‘That’s it, girls,’ Don called out, breaking the mood. ‘Very good, both of you. Laura, you are a natural.’
Julie and Anne blew her kisses as they went out for their shoot. Julie was dressed as a nurse, in a ridiculously short striped uniform and black stockings. Anne was presumably the patient in a skimpy dress and very high heels.
‘Wasn’t so bad, was it?’ Katy said as they got dressed in their own clothes. ‘Don was right, you are a natural. I got the idea you even enjoyed it.’
Laura got up from the bed and paced up and down her cell like a caged animal. Remembering that first shoot was bad enough, but she certainly didn’t want to recall all the far worse ones that came afterwards. Where did all her modesty and dignity go? Why was money so important to her?
11
As Laura looked back at the second half of 1975, and ’76 and ’77, she found much of it was blank to her. That, she supposed, was because she spent so much of it out of her head on coke, speed or alcohol. There weren’t that many entirely straight days, and those there were she almost wished she couldn’t remember because they were invariably days of reckoning.
How odd it was that while she could vividly recall people taking her to task for her behaviour, it never had the effect of sobering her up for long.
The shock and horror she felt that first day in the Glasgow studio fizzled out pretty quickly. The other ‘models’ as they liked to call themselves, whether male or female, were all in it for the same reason. Money.
The very first time she worked with a man had been scary and embarrassing. She’d assumed that he had to be some kind of oversexed pervert, but he disarmed her by telling her that he got an erection whenever he took his clothes off, and that it had nothing to do with seeing her or any female body. He went on to say that he never dared go into a communal changing room after sport for that reason.
Maybe he was unique, but all the men were seasoned performers: as one casually put it one day, ‘I always rise to the occasion.’ They were in the main quite sleazy, many of rather low intellect, and not one of them would she ever want to go on a date with. Yet mostly they were kind and polite, and some were very funny. As long as they could both distance themselves from what they were doing and remember it was only acting, not the real thing, then it wasn’t so bad.
With each successive session it became easier and easier, eventually getting to the point where she saw it all as a bit of a laugh. In fact she got so blasé, and so good at it, that the other girls nicknamed her ‘The Blue Queen’.
Yet it was clear to her now that whilst losing the ability to be shocked, she also lost all her values and principles. Money was the only thing that counted to her; dignity and self-respect flew out the window.
During the summer holiday of ’75 Laura had driven down to London with Barney to stay with Meggie and Ivy. It made Laura proud to see how well Meggie was doing with her houses. She didn’t have the capital to think big like Jackie. She just bought one place at a time, renovated it, sold it on quickly and then bought another. But she was making an excellent living. She was equally proud of Ivy too, for she had qualified as a bookkeeper, and ran the office in a building supplies office.
They were thrilled to have their big sister and nephew staying with them, and they took a break from their work and had days out in Brighton and Hastings and went to London Zoo, the Tower of London and on a boat trip up the Thames.
Neither of her sisters asked Laura any probing questions about how she was managing. She supposed her good clothes and general confidence spoke for themselves, and of course they’d grown up believing she was a winner.
Jackie wasn’t quite such a pushover. When Laura met her to take Barney for a day out to Southend, she grilled Laura remorselessly, not just about what she was doing for a living, but who she was staying with in London. As Barney had mentioned Meggie and Ivy several times, Laura passed them off as two friends she’d made at the casino, who had now moved to London. It felt like the very worst kind of betrayal of her generous, hard-working sisters, for in her heart Laura wanted to boast about how clever and resourceful they were.
She told Jackie the same story she’d told Meggie and Ivy, that she worked part-time in a dress shop, but she did admit that the modelling she did on the side was the glamour kind. Yet that was only because she felt that her friend might possibly see her pictures in one of the pin-up magazines as men on building sites were likely to leave them lying around.
To be fair to Jackie she was amused by this, certainly not horrified. But then she was in a very mellow mood because Barney was with them. He was five now, and a real boy, boisterous, funny and full of enthusiasm for everything from football to creepy-crawlies. But he was loving and demonstrative, still happy to be cuddled by anyone, and as he was so well and happy Jackie had no reason to be concerned about him.
Jackie hardly mentioned Stuart, apart from to say he was her best worker, and she didn’t divulge if he was seeing anyone, whether he ever spoke about Laura, or even where he lived. But then, she didn’t ask whether Laura had anyone special in her life either, and Laura got the idea that was because she’d rather not know, out of loyalty to Stuart.
By Christmas of that year Laura had moved out of Caledonian Crescent and into a spacious two-bedroom flat in Albany Street. The house was built in Georgian times, just like the old tenement, but that was the only similarity. Albany Street was one of the wide, gracious streets in the New Town, the houses built for wealthy people who had the whole house, with servants in the attic rooms and their horses in the mews at the back. Laura’s first-floor flat had a beautiful marble fireplace, elaborate plaster cornices, high ceilings and shiny walnut doors. The carpets and curtains came with the lease, but there was no furniture, and the day she and Barney moved in they danced around the empty flat laughing and singing at the joy of having so much space.
Yet on Christmas Day she did have a really bad stab of guilt at what she had to do to be able to meet the high rent, furnish the flat, and shower Barney with presents. It came when she was helping him set up his new electric train set on his bedroom floor.
It was the afternoon, already getting dark, and Barney had insisted on putting on the new pyjamas Jackie had sent him. They were dark blue and fleecy lined, with a picture of Bert and Ernie from
Sesame Street
across the chest.
‘This train is the best present ever, Mummy,’ he said, crawling round the track to her to give her a hug. ‘I wish Stuie was here to play with it too. Does he know we’ve moved? If he doesn’t he won’t know where to find us when he comes back.’
Up till then she’d been so happy. They had a big Christmas tree in the lounge, all decked out in red and gold decorations and lights, and the heady smell of pine was everywhere. She’d hung Barney’s stocking on the mantelpiece, and although they had the luxury of central heating, she’d even lit a real fire before he woke to make everything extra special and cosy. They hadn’t got much furniture yet, but that hadn’t mattered; their beds, a settee and the television were enough for now.
But Barney’s innocent remark cut her to the quick. He hadn’t mentioned Stuart for weeks and she thought he’d forgotten all about him.
She hugged him tightly so he wouldn’t see the tears welling up in her eyes. Last Christmas Stuart had played with him most of the day, and all the neighbours on the stair had come in for a drink or two and the flat had been noisy and crowded. This year Barney had twice as many presents, and although there had been no visitors, and no one but her to share his excitement as he opened his stocking, she had thought that was enough to make a five-year-old completely happy and he wouldn’t remember how it had been the previous year.
‘Stuie’s working for Auntie Jackie in London now,’ she said, the lump in her throat making it hard to speak. ‘Maybe you’ll see him again when you’re big enough to go and stay with her. I don’t think he’ll ever come back to Edinburgh.’
Barney looked up at her, his big dark eyes sad and thoughtful. ‘I should have asked Father Christmas to make him come back. That would have been an even better present than the train set. He could have done it, couldn’t he?’
‘I don’t think so, Barney,’ she said softly. ‘Even all the elves that work for Father Christmas couldn’t make Stuie love Mummy enough to come and visit.’
‘Could Auntie Jackie make him come back?’
‘No, Barney. Besides, she needs him to fix up her houses. But when you can write really well, you can write a letter to Stuie yourself. I’ll put it in with my letter to Auntie Jackie.’
Jackie had sent a Christmas parcel to them at their old address in Caledonian Crescent. Luckily it arrived the day before they moved out. There was a big box of Lego for Barney, along with the pyjamas, and there had been a letter for Laura enclosed in the parcel.
I expect Barney will think pyjamas are a boring present, but I saw them while in the States and I thought they’d keep him cosy through the winter. I know things must be tougher for you than you let on in the summer, so I’m enclosing a cheque rather than sending a present for you. I worry about you, especially as I hardly ever hear from you. I expect that is because you don’t want to admit how bad things are in case I tell Stuart. But I promise I’d never divulge anything you
tell me, and you must promise me that you will come to me if you ever need help. You will always be my dearest friend, no matter what. Spend at least part of the money on something nice for yourself, and my wish for the New Year for you is that you find happiness again. Hug Barney for me. I couldn’t believe how grown up he’d become, and it made me feel quite tearful to think he’s beginning to read and do sums. I so much want to see him again soon. Please write or phone, I miss you both so much
.
My love, Jackie
The cheque was for £500, and it made Laura feel ashamed that her old friend imagined they were sitting in a cold, miserable flat with no Christmas cheer, and no prospects either. She hadn’t rung Jackie or written to her since the holiday in London during the summer.
She knew she must write back now and thank her for the money, but she was worried that Jackie might tell Stuart she’d moved, and if she mentioned where the new flat was, he’d be suspicious about how she could afford to live in such a smart area.
Soon after Christmas, she did write, but once again she lied to her friend. She used the excuse of working full-time at the dress shop as why she hadn’t been in touch, and said a friend helped her out by collecting Barney from school. Thanking her for the cheque, she said it couldn’t have come at a better time as she’d been offered a new flat with a bedroom for Barney but until the cheque came, she couldn’t raise the deposit for it. Now, thanks to her friend’s generosity, they had moved in, and she hoped Jackie would come and see her next time she came up to Scotland. She added truthfully that it had been a very difficult year, but she thought that things were finally improving.
She wished she hadn’t been forced to tell Jackie more lies, but if she was to admit the whole truth about how she was living, Jackie would be afraid for Barney and she might even think he’d be better off with his father.
For a short while after Christmas Laura did seriously study the Situations Vacant column in the newspaper with the intention of getting a job so she could stop the photographic work. But although she thought perhaps she could become a company rep, or go back to promotions work, any jobs offered didn’t pay enough.
Sometimes when she was alone in the early evening with Barney, helping him with his reading and sums, she’d look down at his earnest little face, see all that beautiful innocence, and feel very ashamed of the life she led when she was away from him.
Yet she could always justify it.
He was loved, well fed and clothed, she was there every day to collect him from school, and every weekend was spent with him alone. She didn’t ever have men friends around the flat. In fact she hadn’t got any, for apart from not going anywhere to meet a man she’d like to go out with, she saw enough of male bodies at work to put her off the idea. Robbie had lost interest in her now he had her where he wanted her. She only saw him occasionally if he came to the studio. All in all, she believed Barney wasn’t affected in any way by how she made the money to keep them both.
But by the spring of ’76 when Barney turned six, he was affected. It began by her being occasionally late to collect him from school. Once or twice it was because she was held up in traffic, but more often it was because she’d gone for a drink with Katy or one of the other girls after a session, and she’d been having such a good time she forgot about her son.
After she’d been severely reprimanded by his teacher, and warned that it wasn’t to happen again, Laura paid Fiona, the mother of one of her son’s classmates, to take him home with her if she didn’t arrive in time. Fiona had three small children and her husband was away in Birmingham working, and sometimes didn’t send any money home for them, so she was glad of the money Laura paid her.
But as spring turned to summer, what began as an occasional hour or two after school gradually stepped up to almost every time she worked in Glasgow.
Laura had told Fiona that she did modelling for a catalogue company. Fiona believed this implicitly, for she was a real ‘wee wifie’; short, plump and plain, with no knowledge about anything beyond the perimeters of her home and family. To her, tall, slender Laura from London, who always dressed in the height of fashion and had her own car, was as exotic as a film star. If Laura told her she was late because they’d done a fashion shoot in Dumfries or even the Highlands she got excited about it and said one more child in the house made no difference at all to her.
One Friday at the start of July, Laura arrived at the studio in the morning to find she and Katy were to work with Craig and Pete that day. Pete, a big hunky blond guy from Manchester, was a good sort, a little thick, but good-natured. Craig, however, a redheaded Glaswegian, she found completely repellent. He was short and very muscular, but he had flaky skin, bad breath and he always smelled sweaty.