‘It’ll be business as well as pleasure,’ he told Clara, one autumnal day in October.
She was thrilled at the thought of going abroad with their friends and spent a happy afternoon off work round at Willa’s, playing with Robert and planning their trip.
‘George says we can take Baby too,’ Willa said.
‘I’m not a baby,’ Robert shouted.
‘Course you’re not,’ Clara agreed, ‘you’re a big boy called Robert.’ She gave Willa an amused look and whispered, ‘he’s four years old. You really will have to stop calling him that.’
Robert began marching around the nursery swinging his arms. ‘I want to be like Jimmy,’ he cried.
Clara laughed. ‘You look like a soldier to me.’
‘Yes,’ Robert said gleefully, ‘like Jimmy.’
Clara looked at Willa in surprise. Her friend explained, ‘Well, whenever Vinnie visits George here he’s always got a couple of his men with him. Robert likes Jimmy best because he always slips him a sweetie. I suppose they look like soldiers in their black uniforms and short haircuts, don’t they? Very smart, your brother.’
It had not occurred to Clara. But it was true that Jimmy and some of the other boxing lads were increasingly being called upon to act as bodyguard to Vinnie and, like Vinnie, they shaved the sides of their heads in military fashion. Recently, there had been a couple of scuffles outside Craven Hall after BUF meetings. ‘Riff-raff and drunks,’ Vinnie had dismissed the agitators.
But Patience told her they were greater in number and more menacing than Vinnie let on. Clara had worried about Jimmy, but her mother had shrugged. ‘He’s a big lad now and able to take care of himself; your Vinnie’s taught him that.’ Still, Clara liked to think Vinnie’s Blackshirt strongmen were more for prestige than necessity, a sign of his status as chairman of the local BUF.
So far, the Templetons had not joined Mosley’s party, despite Clara and Cissie’s enthusiastic promotion of the Women’s Section to Willa.
‘George has never joined a political party in his life,’ Willa said, ‘and he doesn’t think I should either.’
‘Do you always do everything your husband wants?’ Cissie had been mocking.
‘I suppose I do,’ Willa had replied sheepishly.
But Cissie was not going on the trip to Germany as she was away in Ireland visiting family and would not be back till the end of the month. While Robert stomped around the upstairs room, Willa gossiped. ‘I think Cissie’s not going because Alastair won’t allow it. He’s so anti-German. The trip to Ireland’s just an excuse.’
Clara defended her friend. ‘I’m sure Cissie would go if she could; she does what she likes as far as I can see. I miss her not being around. And there’s this big meeting with Joyce next week and she’s going to miss that as well. It’s too bad.’ Clara felt unexpectedly tearful. Willa hastily retracted.
‘I didn’t mean to upset you. I think Cissie’s first class too. Are you all right?’
‘Course I am,’ Clara insisted, wondering what was wrong with her. ‘Just a bit tired. I’ve been working late a lot recently.’
George arrived home and Clara left quickly. ‘See you at the Sandford tomorrow night.’
The next day, Clara felt so ill she came back from work early. ‘Must be something I ate at Willa’s,’ she told Vinnie as she lay in bed unable to move without feeling nauseous. ‘I’m so sorry about dinner. And there’s the meeting.’ That evening, before eating at the Sandford Rooms, the Women’s Section were to plan the catering for the meeting with Joyce.
‘You mustn’t worry about that,’ Vinnie told her hastily. ‘I’ll cancel dinner.’
‘But the meeting? Cissie’s not there either,’ Clara fretted.
‘Mam can organise things for you. She knows more about catering than you do anyway,’ he grunted. ‘You take it easy, lass.’
Clara dragged herself into work the following day, ignoring Vinnie’s and Dolly’s protests that she did not look well enough. But she was sick again and Miss Holt sent her home, saying she would deal with Jellicoe. By Saturday, she was feeling no better. Vinnie cancelled a theatre trip and called out the doctor.
Dr Dixon examined Clara under a modesty blanket, asked a few questions and turned to speak to a hovering Vinnie.
‘Your wife isn’t ill, Mr Craven,’ he declared. ‘She’s with child.’
Vinnie and Clara stared at him in disbelief.
‘Clara’s expecting?’ Vinnie gasped. The doctor nodded as he crossed the room.
‘She may feel sick for a few weeks, but it’ll pass.’
Vinnie showed him out. Clara lay feeling light-headed, sick and joyful all at the same time. She was impatient for Vinnie to return. She heard him telling Dolly the news downstairs. Her mother-in-law shrieked with excitement and came rushing upstairs to throw her arms about Clara.
‘That’s the best news I’ve had in years! A baby on the way! My first grandbairn,’ she crowed. ‘And not before time.’
Clara looked pleadingly at Vinnie standing behind Dolly, hands on hips, face beaming.
‘Mam, don’t smother her,’ he joked.
Eventually Dolly’s gush of words stopped and she allowed Vinnie to sit on the bed. Clara held out her arms to him and he pulled her into a joyful embrace.
‘I’m so proud of you,’ he whispered, kissing her tenderly on the forehead.
She longed for Dolly to go so they could revel in the moment alone, but Vinnie’s mother stood eyeing them.
‘Best let Clara get some rest,’ she decreed. ‘We can’t have her rushing around getting over-tired, now can we? You’ll have to put your foot down, Vinnie. And have a word with Jellicoe; can’t have her risking the baby’s health with all those long hours at work.’
Clara gave Vinnie an impatient roll of the eyes, but he ignored the gesture.
‘You’re right, Mam.’ He stood up. ‘I’m going to wrap this lass in cotton wool till my son’s born.’
Clara gave a weak laugh. But Vinnie’s expression was quite serious. Dolly nodded in approval and they left the room together. Clara sank back, her eyes filling with sudden tears. The moment she had yearned for since their marriage had arrived but felt suddenly anti-climactic. She should be sharing it with Vinnie, laughing and planning their future as a family. Yet she felt sick and alone, listening to him retreat downstairs chatting happily to his mother. Disappointment flooded over her. She did not try to hold back the hot tears. At that moment, the person she longed for most was Patience.
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘You’re not going and that’s my last word on it,’ Vinnie said calmly, crossing the bedroom in his black bathrobe.
‘But I’m in the Women’s Section — I’ve a right to go!’ Clara argued. ‘Everyone will be there to hear Joyce. Mabel Blake’s going.’
‘That’s Ted’s decision,’ Vinnie answered, disrobing and reaching into his wardrobe for clean clothes. Clara watched his taut, muscled back in frustration. She was still feeling wretched with nausea and tiredness but was determined not to miss the rally for the London speaker. It was their biggest meeting yet.
‘Well, this is my decision,’ Clara said defiantly, ‘and I want to go. I have to cover it for the paper; I promised Jellicoe.’
Vinnie turned from dressing, and eyed her as he buttoned up his dinner shirt.
‘I would like nothing better than to have my bonny wife at my side for the meeting.’ He winked. ‘But you’re not well. Jellicoe will understand. I’ll get someone else to do a report for him.’
‘And the supper afterwards?’ Clara asked, feeling sick just at the thought of it.
‘Mam will take your place.’
‘I bet she will,’ Clara muttered. ‘She’ll like nothing better than lording it around knowing I’m stuck here at home.’
Vinnie came over and sat on the bed. ‘Don’t be like that, lass. Mothers are the most important people on this earth. Never forget that. You’re going to be one soon and then nothing else will matte
r — not the paper, not the Women’s Section — none of it except bringing up our bairn.’
He kissed her tenderly on the lips. She knew there was nothing she could say to change his mind. Vinnie could be as stubborn as he was charming.
‘Here, help me put in my cufflinks, lass,’ he said, holding up his starched shirt cuffs.
As she did so, Clara said, ‘So you won’t mind me spending the evening at Mam’s — seeing as mothers are that important?’ Vinnie said nothing so she persisted. ’You can drop me off on the way to the hall. Clarkie can run me home.’
‘Clarkie and all the lads will be busy tonight.’ Vinnie said, standing up.
‘All of them?’ Clara queried. When Vinnie turned away and did not answer, she felt the stirrings of alarm. ‘Is there going to be trouble?’
He shrugged. ‘There’s bound to be some who’ll try to spoil it and stop free debate. But nothing to worry about. My lads will keep things orderly.’
‘It won’t be like the London rally, will it?’ Clara asked anxiously. ‘Tell me, Vinnie. Are you putting yourself in danger?’
He laughed off her concerns. ‘Nothing I can’t handle.’ Then he was suddenly serious. ‘But I don’t want my pregnant wife there. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll ring for Clarkie to drive Patience over here and keep you company. But you’re not to try sneaking down to the meeting, do you understand?’
It was the first time Clara had seen her mother since discovering she was pregnant. They embraced tearfully, as Vinnie and Dolly left with Clarkie for the meeting. Mother and daughter spent the evening curled up on the deep sofa in front of the sitting-room fire, listening to Vinnie’s collection of gramophone records. Clara sipped tea while her mother drank sherry.
‘Ginger,’ Patience declared, ‘that’s what you need to stop feeling sick. My mother used to swear by it. I’ll make you some ginger biscuits.’
‘You don’t bake,’ Clara teased.
‘Buy you some then.’ Patience smiled.
‘You’ve never talked about my grandma,’ Clara mused. ‘Did she make you eat ginger when you were expecting me?’
Patience looked reflective. ‘She died when I was twelve. That’s why I went to live at the boarding house in Shields with my aunt. I had no other family. Couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Luckily Harry came along — and you.’ She took Clara’s hand and squeezed it. ‘Everything changed with you. I wanted you to have everything I’d never had — including a brother or sister. A happy family life.’ Her expression darkened. ‘But if life’s taught me anything, it’s that the best-laid plans never work out.’
Clara gripped her mother’s hand. ‘We had a happy family life. You and Dad gave us the best home we could have asked for when we were growing up.’
Patience’s eyes swam with sudden tears. ‘Do you really think that?’
‘Yes, I do.’
Abruptly, Patience seized her in a fierce hug. ‘Oh, lass, you have no idea how much that means to me - I’ve felt so guilty . . .’ She broke down, sobbing into Clara’s shoulder.
Clara held her close. ‘You shouldn’t,’ she crooned. ‘None of what happened was your fault.’ She would not have her mother blaming herself for her father’s infidelity or his weakness for gambling. ‘And it’s all in the past now — we don’t have to talk about any of it ever again.’
Patience croaked, ‘Thank you, pet. You’re right. It’s all in the past.’
They talked late into the evening, Patience regaling Clara with stories about her new neighbours and how impressed they were to hear that her daughter was married to Vinnie Craven and lived in a grand house in Gosforth. Clara talked enthusiastically about their social life and the Women’s Section.
‘Why don’t you join, Mam? Then we can see more of each other. I’m so busy with work and all our other commitments, I don’t have a spare minute to call round. You know I would if I could.’
‘Don’t feel guilty,’ Patience reassured her. ‘I’m that happy to see you doing so well and enjoying your life with Vinnie.’
‘I do.’ Clara was adamant. ‘But I’d be happier still if you joined us in our new party. Vinnie’s going to get things done for hundreds of people — thousands of men on the dole — not just our family.’
‘That’s grand,’ Patience said, ‘but politics isn’t for me. I’m grateful to have the job at the garage. I keep my head down these days. All this marching around with flags and saluting isn’t for me.’
‘It’s more than that,’ Clara laughed. ‘Mosley’s going to change things for ordinary people — the ones in northern cities that the politicians in London have left to rot.’
‘Stop!’ Patience cried. ‘I get enough speech-making from our Jimmy without you getting on your soap box. I’m going to make you more tea.’
By the time she came back, Clara was fast asleep on the sofa. Patience covered her daughter with a rug and went to doze in a chair.
They were both woken by a car in the driveway and raised voices as Vinnie, Dolly and two Blackshirts came clattering into the house. Patience sprang nervously to her feet while Clara roused herself from a deep sleep. As soon as her husband came into the room, she noticed blood spattered on his shirt front.
‘Vinnie! What’s happened?’ she cried, sitting up. ‘You’re hurt.’
‘It’s nothing, lass,’ he assured her, kissing her quickly on the head. ‘There was more trouble at the hall than we’d bargained for.’
‘It was a disgrace,’ Dolly said, as Clarkie helped her into a seat. She looked very shaken. ‘They didn’t give the poor man a chance to speak.’
‘We had to get him away in the end,’ Vinnie said, going swiftly to pour himself a whisky from the decanter on the cocktail cabinet. That alarmed Clara even more, for he hardly ever drank.
‘Didn’t even have his supper,’ Dolly said indignantly. ‘None of us did.’
Clara looked at the carriage clock on the mantelpiece. ‘But it’s gone midnight. Where have you been?’
Dolly launched into a garbled tale. ‘There was fighting in the hall as well as outside — the place is half wrecked — and then the police came. Vinnie’s been down the station — and he took Jimmy to hospital—’
‘Jimmy?’ Patience cried. ‘What’s happened to him?’
‘He got thumped,’ Dolly began, but Vinnie held up his hand to silence her.
‘Don’t go upsetting Clara,’ he ordered. He took a long swig from his glass and crossed the room to sit by his wife. ‘Jimmy’s in hospital,’ he said quietly.
Patience gasped in horror. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘He’s all right,’ Vinnie assured her. ‘They think he’s dislocated his shoulder. He’ll be in overnight. Didn’t want to stay in but the doctor insisted.’
‘My poor bairn,’ Patience cried. ‘I want to see him.’
‘I’ll fetch him home tomorrow,’ Vinnie promised. ‘He’s resting now and they wouldn’t let you in at this hour. He said to tell you he’s champion — knew you’d make a fuss.’
Clara gulped. ‘How did it happen?’
Vinnie looked at her. ‘He was defending the speaker — getting him to his car. Thugs set on him.’
Clarkie spoke up. ‘Gave as good as he got, miss.’
‘Thugs?’ Clara echoed.
‘Commies,’ Vinnie said in disgust.
‘Those Lewises were there in the hall,’ Dolly said accusingly, ‘stirring up trouble from the start. Even that lass Reenie; bold as brass, mouthing off.’
‘Reenie!’ Clara gasped.
Vinnie nodded. ‘I let Benny and Reenie come in — for old times’ sake — for Frank’s sake, cos he was a friend of mine. And I thought it might make them see sense; you once told me Benny admired Mosley.’ His voice turned hard. ‘But they abused my trust and began heckling as soon as Joyce opened his mouth. That’s the sort of people they are, Clara, ignorant and bigoted. They had no intention of listening to what we had to say. We chucked them out and then they caused a riot outside. I’ll
not let them near the hall again; my lads will see to that.’
Clara felt shame for her old friends. How could they have behaved like that? Benny maybe, but not Reenie. Their actions had put Jimmy in hospital. She reached out and touched Vinnie’s arm. ‘I’m so sorry.’
He smiled. ‘You’re not to worry. A few Bolshies aren’t going to stop us. Now do you see why I didn’t want you there?’
Clara nodded. She glanced at her mother. Patience was white-faced, subdued.
‘Don’t worry, Mam,’ Clara said. ‘Vinnie will take care of everything. He’ll look after Jimmy.’
The next day, Jimmy was released from hospital and Vinnie sent Clarkie to collect him and bring him home. That evening, Clara badgered Vinnie to let her see her brother, so he dropped her off for a visit while he went to a Rotary meeting. She found Jimmy eating soup at the kitchen table, his left arm pinned in a sling, the radio playing. Patience hovered over her son, smoking. The ground floor flat was homely. Clara realised guiltily that this was only the second time she had been there since they moved in over a month ago.
Jimmy shrugged off her sympathy. ‘I’m all right. Don’t fuss.’
‘Does it hurt?’ Clara asked, sitting opposite.
‘Not much.’
‘It does,’ Patience contradicted, ‘but he won’t admit it.’
‘And your lip’s swollen.’ Clara was worried.
Jimmy gave her a defiant look. ‘I’ve had worse boxing. It’s what you expect in this job.’
‘But you’re a mechanic, Jimmy,’ Clara pointed out.
‘I’m a Blackshirt; one of Vinnie’s unit,’ he told her proudly. ‘We have to be prepared to fight. “Stand we fast to fight or die!” That’s our motto.’
Clara exchanged glances with her mother. Patience looked tense, but said nothing.
‘Vinnie said Benny and Reenie were there. Was it Benny who attacked you?’ Clara asked.
‘Might have been,’ Jimmy said, unconcerned. ‘There were that many of us scrapping outside, I didn’t see the lad that knocked me down. I felled a couple mesel’ first.’ His eyes glinted with the memory. ‘One of the London lads said next time I should keep a knife handy — cut their belts and braces so they can’t fight back - too busy trying to keep their trousers up!’
THE TYNESIDE SAGAS: Box set of three dramatic and emotional stories: A Handful of Stars, Chasing the Dream and For Love & Glory Page 26
