THE TYNESIDE SAGAS: Box set of three dramatic and emotional stories: A Handful of Stars, Chasing the Dream and For Love & Glory

by Janet MacLeod Trotter

  ‘It’s a great honour, you know,’ she said, hovering over her daughter, smoking frantically. ‘Don’t go saying anything cheeky to put him off.’

  ‘Mam,’ Clara cried, ‘it’s just a trip to the pictures. He means nothing by it.’

  ‘Still, Vinnie Craven showing my daughter some attention.’ Patience preened. ‘That’ll make the neighbours sit up - all the Mrs Laidlaws and the Mrs Shaws of the world who think they’re above us since we lost the shop.’

  Clara shot her mother a worried look. ‘Don’t hang your hopes on anything, Mam. Like I said, there’s nothing in it.’

  ‘You and Vinnie, eh?’ She smiled and blew out smoke.

  Vinnie came promptly at six to collect her, dressed in a smart suit with a lilac shirt and dark tie. His hair was immaculately styled and she could tell from the smoothness of his chin that he had just been shaved and had his moustache trimmed. He smelt of expensive soap and cologne. His smile and bow of the head made her insides flutter. She sank into the leather car seat, clasping her hands to stop them shaking. Vinnie did all the talking. He parked outside Fenwick’s prestigious department store on Northumberland Street and guided her inside.

  The tea rooms were full of chattering well-dressed customers. Clara tried not to stare. She had no idea the place was so popular. There was certainly money in some quarters of Newcastle. They were shown to a reserved table in the corner, near to a concert band. With a pang, Clara thought of Frank and how he would love to be playing like this, instead of scratching a living trying to sell second-hand books to people with no money.

  ‘What’s wrong, Clara?’ Vinnie disturbed her thoughts. ‘You’re very quiet.’

  She forced a smile. ‘Nothing. I’m just taking it all in.’

  ‘You’re off duty,’ he chided. ‘Relax, Miss Tyne Times.’

  She gave him a guilty glance. ‘Actually, I’m not. I said I’d do a piece on the new cinema.’

  Vinnie let out a loud laugh that made people glance over. ‘I should have guessed. And here I was thinking Miss Magee was here because of me, not old Jellicoe.’

  Clara smirked. ‘Well, Greta Garbo first. Then you and Mr Jellicoe.’

  He leaned across and grasped her hand. ‘As long as I come before Jellicoe.’ He grinned.

  To Clara’s consternation, he held on to her hand until the waitress came to take their order. She wanted to pull away, yet part of her thrilled at his easy possessiveness in front of the other diners. The way he gazed across at her made her feel desirable and it was a heady feeling.

  Vinnie ordered fish pie and peas for them both, followed by a huge glass of ice cream and fruit for Clara and a pot of tea. He watched her scrape the bottom of the glass with a long spoon.

  ‘They won’t need to clean that,’ he teased. ‘Have another one.’

  Clara sat back in contentment. ‘That was heaven. Couldn’t manage any more.’

  Vinnie paid and they made for the entrance. A voice stopped them.

  ‘Hello over there! It’s Clara, isn’t it?’ A dark-haired woman in a yellow hat and dress put out a hand as they passed. She was sitting with a red-haired man and an older woman in uniform with a small boy on her knee.

  ‘Mrs Templeton!’ Clara exclaimed. ‘How nice to see you.’

  ‘You’ve never got in touch,’ she said reproachfully.

  ‘I’ve just written to you.’ Clara smiled. ‘How’s that for coincidence?’

  Willa introduced her husband, nanny and son. Clara said bashfully, ‘And this is Mr Craven — er — a family friend.’

  ‘Vincent,’ Vinnie said at once, grasping the hand of George Templeton.

  ‘George,’ he said in reply.

  ‘Templeton’s the engineers?’ Vinnie asked.

  George nodded. ‘And are you anything to do with Craven’s boxing hall?’

  ‘The very one.’ Vinnie grinned. ‘Do you like boxing?’

  ‘Oh, George is mad about any sport,’ Willa cried.

  ‘You must come as my guests,’ Vinnie offered at once, ‘both of you.’

  ‘Willa won’t be interested,’ George snorted, ‘but I’d be happy to.’

  ‘Of course I’m interested,’ Willa declared. ‘I’ve never been inside a boxing hall. I think it would be fascinating. Clara, do you go and watch?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ she admitted. ‘I cover fights for the paper.’

  ‘Clara’s a journalist, darling,’ Willa told her husband.

  ‘So be careful what you say,’ Vinnie winked. ‘She misses nothing.’

  They parted, the women agreeing to meet up soon. As they walked down to Pilgrim Street, Vinnie took her arm in his. ‘Here I am trying to impress you, and you’re the one with friends in high society. You are full of surprises, Miss Magee. How do you know Mrs Templeton?’

  ‘We met at a League of Health and Beauty meeting. It was my first try at journalism. I may have given Mrs Templeton the impression I was already working for the Tyne Times,’ Clara grinned.

  ‘You certainly left an impression,’ Vinnie said admiringly, ‘but that doesn’t surprise me at all.’

  Clara was enchanted by the vast Paramount cinema with its art deco interior, sweeping staircase, plush carpets and row upon row of velvet-upholstered seating. It was like stepping into a Hollywood film set. Vinnie bought the biggest box of chocolates they had and escorted her to the front of the balcony. So captivated was she that Clara forgot to take any notes until the film was over and they were joining the throng of people leaving the cinema. Outside it was still light and she felt disorientated, as if stepping back from another world. Still wrapped in the emotion of the story’s climax, she chattered about the film to prolong the experience.

  On the drive back, Clara fell silent as the afterglow of her evening of luxury began to fade. The familiar terraces and shabby high street of Byfell closed about her once more. As they passed the town hall, Clara glanced away, a stab of guilt reminding her that she had failed to meet up with Benny. She would make time to see him tomorrow and explain. But the thought was like a chilly draught. How could she admit that she had had one of the best evenings of her life?

  She glanced over at Vinnie’s angular profile and felt sudden panic. What was she doing with this older man? It would come to no good. He was well known for his philandering and no doubt saw her as an easy conquest. By the time they pulled into Minto Street, Clara had decided that she must encourage Vinnie no further.

  As soon as they stopped outside the flat, Clara had the door open.

  ‘Thanks for taking me, Mr Craven. I’ve had a grand time.’

  Vinnie reached across and stopped her. ‘Me too, Clara.’

  He took her hand, raised it to his lips and kissed it. She was acutely aware of how rough and callused her hand must feel. The hand of a drudge. For all her journalistic ambitions, she was still a cleaner for Max and a maid-of-all-work for her melancholic mother. She snatched her hand away.

  ‘Should’ve worn gloves,’ she joked. ‘I must taste of carbolic soap.’

  ‘Don’t be ashamed of working hands,’ Vinnie said. ‘They’re beautiful.’

  She climbed out quickly before he could walk her to the door or make a further assignation. The kiss, however gentlemanly, had unnerved her. It implied something greater than casual friendship. Clara rushed inside without looking back. On the stairs, she heard him driving away with a toot of his horn.

  Her heart was still hammering when she entered the flat. Patience and Jimmy both rose to greet her.

  ‘How was your evening, pet?’ Patience asked anxiously.

  ‘Canny—’

  ‘He’s been arrested,’ Jimmy said excitedly. ‘There was a big punch-up.’

  ‘Clara doesn’t want to be bothered with all that now,’ Patience said, trying to hide her agitation. ‘I want to hear about her night out.’

  Clara stared from one to the other. Her stomach lurched with dread. ‘Who’s been arrested? Tell me.’

  ‘Benny,’ Jimmy answered. ‘The police
came. Him and two others got nicked at that union meetin’. I saw it all.’

  ‘What were you doing there?’ Clara gasped. Jimmy shrugged.

  ‘It’s just as well you didn’t go,’ Patience said. ‘You could’ve got hurt.’

  ‘Was Benny hurt?’

  ‘Got a bloody mouth,’ Jimmy said.

  Clara turned round at once and made for the door.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ her mother asked querulously.

  ‘To Reenie’s — see what’s happening.’

  ‘You can’t!’ Patience cried. Clara hesitated.

  ‘Tell her, Mam,’ Jimmy muttered.

  Patience fumbled for a half-smoked cigarette, smouldering on a saucer. She inhaled deeply. ‘Benny came round earlier,’ she said, not meeting Clara’s look.

  Clara’s heart lurched. ‘Did you tell him where I was?’

  ‘He already knew,’ Jimmy answered. ‘Vinnie went round to Lewis’s for a shave and trim. Told Benny he was taking you to the pictures.’

  Patience faced her. ‘He came round here shouting his head off, demanding to see you. I told him he was too late and to stop bothering you. The things he said about Vinnie don’t bear repeating. I told you that lad was nothing but trouble.’

  Feeling faint, Clara clutched a chair and sat down. ‘I should’ve been there,’ she groaned. ‘This is all my fault.’

  ‘No it’s not,’ Patience said, coming to put an arm about her. ‘If anyone deserved a trip to the pictures it was you, pet. You’re not responsible for Benny’s losing his head over the matter. It’s not as if you were properly courting. And now you’ve got Vinnie—’

  ‘I haven’t got him,’ Clara said angrily, shaking her off. ‘I’m not such a fool as to be taken in by a film and a fancy box of chocolates. He’s done that for plenty of lasses.’

  ‘You’re different,’ Patience said stoutly. ‘Dolly says so and she should know. She’s seen them come and go.’

  ‘Aye, our Clara,’ Jimmy agreed. ‘He’s always asking me questions about you.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Cos he sees you’ve got breeding,’ Patience said proudly, ‘no matter what your circumstances. He knows you’re going to make something of yourself.’

  Clara covered her face in her hands. She did not know what to think.

  ‘What of Benny’s family?’ she whispered. ‘Were any of them there at the meeting?’

  ‘I saw Frank,’ Jimmy answered. ‘I think he was trying to calm it down. Didn’t see him after.’

  Clara bit her lip. What would Frank think of her now? She could not bear the thought of his disapproval. It would be worse than Benny’s anger.

  ‘How did the fighting start?’

  ‘What does it matter?’ Patience sighed. ‘What’s done is done.’

  ‘I want to know,’ Clara insisted.

  Jimmy said, ‘Some of the husbands and fathers of the lasses what work at the factory turned up. Didn’t like their women being told what to do. Chased the speakers. Benny wouldn’t shut his gob.’

  Clara groaned. How like Benny.

  ‘Nothing you can do about it tonight,’ Patience pointed out. ‘Come to bed. I want to hear all about your evening.’

  Clara could not sleep. She worried about Benny in a police cell and about what had happened to Frank. She dreaded to think what Reenie and her parents now thought of her for going out with Vinnie. Vinnie Craven! He had deliberately provoked Benny by going to Lewis’s for a shave. She would have sharp words with him when she saw him next. But however much she tossed and turned with her tortured thoughts, she ended up blaming herself.

  Early the next day, Clara went up to the police station. PC Hobson told her that Benny was to be held over the weekend and appear before magistrates on Monday morning. To Clara’s relief, Frank was not one of the other men arrested.

  ‘I warned you to keep that lad out of trouble,’ the constable frowned.

  ‘Can I see him?’ Clara asked.

  ‘Best not to. Let him cool off, eh?’

  She went round to Max’s flat and caught him on his way out. He saw the state she was in and pulled her inside. She explained everything.

  ‘Can you do anything for Benny?’ she pleaded.

  ‘I’ll go up to the station now,’ Max promised. ‘See what he’s charged with.’ He gave her a strange look. Finally, he asked, ‘How well do you know Vincent Craven?’

  Clara blushed. ‘He’s just a friend of the family. He and Dad were close.’

  ‘Be careful,’ Max said quietly. ‘He can be very charming, but he uses people. I’ve seen it in his business dealings. And I’m told he’s a bit of a ladies’ man.’

  ‘I’m not one of his ladies,’ Clara retorted, ‘so don’t worry about me.’

  Clara stayed away from the Lewises until closing time, knowing they would be especially busy without Benny and no doubt trying to put on a brave face. The news of the fight and arrests was all over town. There were rumours that it had been a co-ordinated attack; men had been paid to break up the meeting. Others said it was a setup by the Communists to reflect badly on Craven’s factory and treatment of the workers.

  Heart hammering, Clara knocked at the Lewises’ door. Frank was sweeping up and answered. Clara’s throat dried.

  ‘Do you want to come in?’ he asked kindly. She nodded. ‘You know about Benny then?’ He closed the door behind her. She nodded again and swallowed hard.

  ‘I’m sorry. How is he?’

  ‘Max came round and told us he’s all right. Sobered up.’

  ‘He’d been drinking?’ Clara gasped.

  Frank gave her a penetrating look. ‘He was upset before the meeting.’

  ‘Who is it?’ Marta called down the stairs.

  ‘Clara,’ Frank called back.

  There was a silence, then, ‘Clara, are you hungry?’

  Tears stung her eyes. How could Benny’s mother be so forgiving? Her chin trembled as she went to the stairs and looked up.

  ‘No thank you, Mrs Lewis. I just came to say how sorry I was about Benny.’

  ‘Come up,’ Marta insisted. ‘We drink tea, ja?’

  Upstairs, Reenie was bolting down a meal of bacon and egg before going to work. She was not so charitable.

  ‘I heard it was Vinnie’s men who started it,’ she said indignantly. ‘He’s that scared of his workers joining the union.’

  ‘That’s a bit far-fetched,’ Clara countered. ‘I’ve seen round the factory and the lasses don’t look put upon to me.’

  Reenie’s look was disdainful. ‘He’s really turned your head, hasn’t he? Just one trip to the pictures and—’

  ‘Reenie,’ Frank chided, ‘leave the lass be. You can see she’s worried about our Benny.’

  ‘Is she?’ Reenie was disbelieving. ‘Got a funny way of showing it.’

  ‘Don’t listen to her, Clara,’ Marta said, pushing a cup of tea towards her. ‘She is being the loyal sister.’

  ‘Just as well someone is,’ Reenie muttered.

  Clara put down her cup, stung by her friend’s barbed comments. ‘I didn’t start the fight and I didn’t put Benny in the cells! I never even said I’d go to his meeting. I got the chance to see Garbo at the flicks and I took it. Bet you’d have done the same given half a chance, Reenie.’

  Reenie flushed. ‘If I was courting I wouldn’t have gone out with another man behind his back.’

  Clara sprang up, indignant. ‘Me and Benny aren’t courting. We fall out more often than Laurel and Hardy.’ She saw the look of dismay on Marta’s face. ‘I’m really sorry, Mrs Lewis. I like Benny a lot, but there’s nothing serious between us. Benny knows that even if Reenie can’t see it.’

  Reenie rose too. ‘Just go, Clara, before your big gob says any more.’

  Clara hurried downstairs, swallowing tears. She had made things ten times worse by coming. She had never seen Reenie so angry. Footsteps followed her down. Frank unbolted the door for her.

  ‘Clara,’ he said gently, p
utting a hand on her shoulder, ‘Reenie’s upset. She doesn’t really blame you. She just thinks the world of our Benny and wants you to as well.’

  Clara felt herself shaking under his touch. ‘But she’s right,’ she whispered unhappily, ‘it is my fault. I should have told Benny long ago I don’t love him — not in the way he wants.’

  Slowly, Frank pulled Clara round to face him. He lifted her chin. Her heart banged erratically like a caged bird.

  ‘You must put Benny out of his misery, Clara,’ he chided gently. She nodded, swallowing down tears. How could she admit her guilty secret; that she had gone out with Benny so she could see more of Frank? He would think even less of her. The warmth of Frank’s hand burned into her shoulder. ‘Tell me,’ he asked, ‘do you love someone else?’

  Her eyes widened in shock. Had Frank guessed all along how she felt about him? She trembled under his touch. She wanted nothing more than to be enfolded in his arms and never let go. But she could not do it, not with Benny incarcerated at the police station. She had betrayed him once already.

  ‘Clara?’ he prompted, his voice a deep vibration between them.

  She swallowed hard. ‘Yes, I love another man,’ she whispered, her large eyes pleading with him to understand.

  At that moment, Reenie came clattering downstairs and interrupted.

  ‘Still here?’ she said frostily.

  Clara jumped back guiltily. ‘I’m going.’

  ‘Goodbye, Clara,’ Frank said, turning away.

  ‘Goodbye,’ she choked. As she hurried out, the word echoed in her head. It sounded so final.

  Chapter Seventeen

  As Saturday evening wore on, Clara’s unhappiness at what she had done and at her impotence to help Benny fanned into anger against Vinnie. She stormed down to Craven Hall.

  ‘He’s dining out,’ Clarkie told her. ‘Rotary Club. Do you want to leave a message, miss?’

  Clara let out a sigh of frustration. ‘No. No message.’

  She trailed home. Her mother was in bed; Jimmy was minding cars for Clarkie. Staggering upstairs with the tin bath from the yard, she boiled up a large pan of water and had a shallow wash. One day she would live again in a house with a proper bath and plumbing and hot running water. She dried her hair with a threadbare towel and pulled on her mother’s old kimono. Tiptoeing into the bedroom, she fetched her diary from its box under the bed and returned to the main room to write it up. She had written nothing for three days. Two hours later, she was still writing.