‘You’re too thin,’ he said. ‘You should start eating more.’
Clara felt exposed and tried to shrug back into the dressing gown. Vinnie stopped her.
‘I still want you, lass,’ he insisted. ‘I’ll always want you.’ He pulled her down on to the hearth rug and began kissing her urgently. Clara glanced anxiously towards the door.
‘What if someone comes in?’
‘What if they do?’ Vinnie laughed. ‘We’re man and wife — we’ve every right.’
He swiftly discarded the rest of his clothes and straddled her. He loomed above, muscular and roused.
‘Not so quickly,’ Clara whispered, pressing her hands to his torso.
‘I can’t wait,’ Vinnie hissed, kissing her impatiently and grasping her hair.
Moments later he was entering her. Clara gasped in pain as he writhed on top, shuddering with pleasure. Then it was over and he was drawing back.
‘Oh, lass, that was grand,’ he groaned, rolling off. He lay regaining his breath, a hand resting possessively on her thigh.
Clara said nothing, shocked by the speed at which he had relieved his arousal. She could feel a burn mark on her lower back from where he had pinned her to the rug. She was sore inside. She felt indignant. There had been none of the gentle, erotic foreplay on which Vinnie prided himself and which used to make her desire him to distraction. But this was quite the opposite. It was almost as if he were angry with her for something.
The next minute, he was standing up. ‘Haway, go and have your bath,’ he ordered. ‘We mustn’t be late for dinner.’
Clara scrambled up, pulled on the dressing gown and hurried from the bedroom. In the steamy, chilly bathroom she sat hunched in the bath and scrubbed herself vigorously. The savage lovemaking left her feeling unclean; she wanted to wash it away. By the time she returned to the bedroom, she had convinced herself that there was nothing malicious in Vinnie’s action. He was exuberant about the weekend, over-excited, and it had made him too hasty in their intercourse.
The rest of the evening passed pleasantly enough and Vinnie hovered near her attentively, as if he was loath to let her out of his sight or earshot. After dinner, the men retired to the billiard room to smoke cigars and talk politics. Clara went to bed, longing for a night of uninterrupted sleep. She was woken by the sound of the telephone ringing and jerked awake in alarm. Something must have happened to Sarah! Vinnie had not yet come to bed. Clara rushed out on to the landing and peered over the banisters. Below she could hear the rumble of a man’s voice. The short conversation ended. There was the click of the receiver being replaced and a man crossed the hallway below. It was Vinnie.
She hissed his name. He looked up, startled.
‘What’s wrong?’ she called down.
Swiftly Vinnie mounted the stairs. ‘What you doing wandering around in your nightie?’ he said in amusement.
‘Has something happened to Sarah?’ Clara asked in agitation.
‘No, course not,’ Vinnie assured her.
‘Then who was ringing you?’ she asked in confusion.
‘Jimmy,’ he said at once. ‘I asked him to ring — let me know that everything was canny at your mam’s with our Sarah. And she’s grand — sleeping like a top.’
Clara looked at him in amazement. ‘You asked Jimmy to do that? Why didn’t you tell me?’
Vinnie smiled fondly. ‘I didn’t want you fretting all evening waiting for the telephone call, did I?’
She felt a rush of gratitude towards him. Sometimes he amazed her with his care and concern for her. Now he had shown that he really did care for Sarah too. ‘Thanks Vinnie.’ She smiled, kissing his cheek. ‘That was very thoughtful.’
He looked her over. ‘Think I’ll come to bed now, an’ all.’
‘What about the billiards?’ Clara reminded him.
‘I’ve just let Alastair win,’ he grinned. ‘They’ll not miss me.’
He followed her back to the bedroom. Warming up under the bedclothes, Vinnie made love to Clara again, this time more languorously. Afterwards, Clara lay encircled in his arms listening to his regular breathing. She had misjudged him. He was still the loving, passionate Vinnie with whom she had fallen in love. The sleep of exhaustion overcame her.
***
It was late on Sunday evening when they returned to Tyneside and, although they had arranged with Patience to collect Sarah in the morning, Clara wanted to go straight round to her mother’s. Vinnie persuaded her against it.
‘No point waking the bairn and having to settle her twice,’ he reasoned.
Once home, Clara slept badly and clock-watched through the night. Unable to sleep, she got up before dawn and drove herself down to Glanton Terrace. It was the first time she had driven since having the baby and she was nervous. Gripping the steering wheel, she crawled down Byfell High Street and turned down Tenter Terrace. Passing her old home, she peered at it in the dark.
Clara did a double take and stalled the car. The Lewises’ shop front was gone. The large window was boarded over, the red and white barber’s sign broken. When had they closed? And where had they gone? Fancy neither Vinnie nor Patience mentioning it. A delivery van hooted behind and Clara drove on.
She found Patience feeding Sarah an early morning bottle, and rushed to embrace them both.
‘What are you doing here so soon?’ Patience said in a fluster. ‘Does Vinnie know?’
‘No, but I’ll be back before he needs to leave for work.’ Clara smiled, plucking Sarah from her mother’s hold and giving her a hug. Sarah jerked in her arms. Clara buried her nose in the baby’s neck, breathing in her soft, milky smell. ‘How’s she been?’
‘Champion,’ Patience replied. ‘But I can see why you get so tired. She doesn’t sleep much, does she?’
‘That’s not what Jimmy said,’ Clara laughed dryly. ‘Sleeping like a top, he told Vinnie. Still, it was nice of our Jimmy to ring and let us know she was fine.’
‘Did he?’ Patience frowned. She stretched and got up. Crossing the room to the fire, she lit a cigarette in its embers. ‘He never said.’ She inhaled deeply. She seemed tense.
‘Well he did — Saturday night — late on,’ Clara said. ‘Must have gone down the street to telephone.’
Patience blew out smoke and did not answer. She stared into the dark street.
‘What’s wrong, Mam?’ Clara asked, rocking Sarah on her shoulder.
Her mother hesitated. ‘Did you speak to Jimmy?’
‘No,’ Clara admitted, ‘but Vinnie did. I heard him.’
Patience turned, her look anxious. ‘Jimmy wasn’t here on Saturday night.’
Chapter Thirty
Clara was unnerved by her mother’s look. ‘If Jimmy wasn’t here on Saturday night, where was he?’
‘He slept at Clarkie’s,’ Patience said tensely, ’or so he said.’
Clara was baffled. ‘But the phone call — was he just making it up about Sarah?’
Patience turned and faced her. ‘Or Vinnie was.’
‘Why should he do that?’ Clara was disbelieving.
Patience stubbed out her cigarette, her look haggard. ‘There was trouble on Saturday night, big trouble. The Lewises’ hairdresser’s was smashed up. Benny was badly beaten.’
Clara’s legs buckled in shock. She sat down, aghast. ‘How badly?’ she whispered.
Patience said tightly, ‘Whoever did it put him in hospital. Police came round early Sunday morning looking for Jimmy.’
Clara exclaimed, ‘Not our Jimmy! They can’t think . . . ?’
Patience went on in a bleak voice, ‘Took him down the police station and questioned him for hours — and Clarkie and half a dozen others. They let them go, but said they had to stay around Byfell till they’d finished their inquiries.’
‘Where’s Jimmy? In his room?’ Clara demanded, standing again. ‘I’ll have it out with him.’
‘He’s not here,’ Patience said. ‘We had a row about it — I told him if he had anything to do wi
th the attack or knew anyone who had, he must tell the police.’
‘What did he say?’
‘I thought he would deny it, but he gave me such a mouthful.’ Patience trembled. ‘Said, why was I sticking up for scum like Benny Lewis — specially after what happened to you? Clara, I think Jimmy was mixed up in it.’
‘Oh, Mam!’ Clara gasped. ‘Our Jimmy wouldn’t harm the Lewises.’
Patience’s look was harrowed. ‘I know I’ve said some bad things about that family — about Benny — but that doesn’t mean it’s right to attack them. I feel ashamed to think my lad could have done such a thing.’
‘We don’t know that, Mam,’ Clara insisted. ‘I’ll get Vinnie to talk to him.’
Patience said dully, ‘No doubt they’ll want to question Vinnie too.’
Clara stared at her. ‘Vinnie? Whatever for? He wasn’t even in town.’
Patience gave her a pitying look. ‘Cos he’s in charge of those lads, that’s why. He might not have been there, but he gives them their orders. You know our Jimmy would walk through fire for that husband of yours.’
Clara was shocked by her mother’s bitter tone. She had never talked about Vinnie like that before.
‘Vinnie’s no thug!’ Clara protested. ‘It’s no secret that he doesn’t like the Lewises, but he fights them fair and square at political meetings. He would never order their shop to be smashed up, let alone Benny beaten up. Never!’
Sarah began a sudden wailing at Clara’s agitation.
‘Here, give her to me,’ Patience said. Taking her from Clara’s trembling hold, she laid her on the floor and grabbed a homemade toy — a string laced with silver cigarette paper and bottle tops. She swung it over Sarah’s squalling red face.
Swiftly, the baby calmed down, mesmerised by the swinging string glinting in the lamplight.
Clara kneeled down beside her mother, asking awkwardly, ‘You don’t really think Jimmy had anything to do with such a thing?’
Patience sighed. ‘I don’t know any more. He’s that secretive about where he goes and what he does. I’m the last person he’d tell.’
Clara persisted. ‘But Vinnie? I can’t believe you’d even suspect him of something so horrible.’
‘Then why did Jimmy ring him at Hoxton Hall?’ Patience challenged her. ‘It was nothing to do with Sarah.’
Clara frowned. ‘If Jimmy thought he was in trouble, he’d turn to Vinnie first, wouldn’t he? Vinnie just told me it was about Sarah to stop me worrying over Jimmy.’ She grew defiant in Vinnie’s defence. ‘He’s a good man — you’ve said so yourself a dozen times.’
‘I know,’ Patience said. ‘And he is good — to his own kind.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Clara asked accusingly.
Patience met Clara’s angry look. ‘Vinnie has a hard streak too — ruthless even.’
Clara went crimson. She jumped up. ‘I’m not staying to hear my husband insulted,’ she said fiercely. When she reached for Sarah, Patience caught her hand.
‘Don’t be angry with me,’ she pleaded.
Clara snatched her hand away, glaring. ‘Then tell me why you think Vinnie’s capable of such a thing.’
Patience’s voice shook. ‘He once did us a favour — got rid of someone who was pestering your father. Harry was frightened — we both were. He asked Vinnie to get him to go away — because he knew that was the sort of thing Vinnie could arrange.’
Clara’s heart went cold. ‘What do you mean, arrange?’
Patience swallowed. ‘Vinnie has contacts -— men who hang around on the fringes of the boxing hall ready to do anything for a bit pay. Your father asked him to pay the man off — not to harm him — just give him some money and frighten him off a bit. Harry gave Vinnie money to do it.’
Clara asked in bewilderment. ‘Why didn’t Dad just give the man the money himself?’
Patience stared into her lap. ‘Cos he knew this man would not be bought off easily — he would need a bit of extra persuasion — the kind Vinnie could give. I encouraged him to go to Vinnie. That man—’
‘It was the foreigner, wasn’t it?’ Clara said in sudden realisation. ‘You’re —talking about that tramp.’ Patience nodded slowly. Clara gulped. ‘So — what happened to him?’
Her mother’s chin trembled. ‘I don’t know. But we never saw him again — not once.’
‘He must have taken the money and gone, the way you wanted,’ Clara exclaimed.
‘That’s what I kept telling your father,’ Patience said tearfully, ‘but he wouldn’t let it rest. Kept badgering Vinnie to tell him. In the end Vinnie said he’d never hear from the man again; he’d seen to it, good and proper.’
‘What are you saying?’ Clara demanded. ‘That Vinnie’s a murderer?’
Patience met her look.
‘My God!’ Clara gasped. ‘You are, aren’t you?’
Her mother shook her head. ‘I didn’t believe it, but your father was full of guilt; it tore him apart. That’s when the drinking and gambling really started. Harry was trying to forget, but he never could . . .’
‘You could though,’ Clara said in a tight, accusing voice.
Silent tears ran down her mother’s cheeks. ‘As far as I was concerned, Vinnie had done us a favour. That man was threatening my husband, my family. I’d have done anything to protect them; anything short of murder. I still couldn’t imagine Vinnie being capable of such a thing. But with this attack on Benny Lewis, it’s brought it all back.’
Clara was stunned. She refused to believe her husband could organise such violence. Yet a worm of doubt wriggled in her mind. He had been furious about Benny’s recent successes in disrupting his organisation. He had talked of teaching the Lewises a lesson. Fear clutched her insides. She had stoked up his fury, reminding him of Benny’s part in the May street fighting.
‘Dear God,’ she whispered, ‘I encouraged him to blame Benny for Sarah’s premature birth. If Vinnie’s behind this, I’m guilty too.’
Patience seized her hand again. ‘No you’re not! None of this has anything to do with you. Vinnie and Jimmy are getting in too deep in this fascist business — too ready to use their fists.’
Clara pulled away. ‘And I’m a part of it too,’ she said bitterly. ‘I’ve glorified the BUF in newspaper articles and marched as proudly as any of them. Now you tell me that my husband’s been a thug all along. Why did you not tell me any of this before?’ she said angrily. ‘Why wait till I was married? You encouraged me to marry him!’
Patience brusquely wiped her tears. ‘And for good reason. Vinnie was offering security and luxury beyond anything I could ever offer. Can you imagine how terrible it is to lose your husband, your livelihood, and see your children suffer because of it? These are dark days. Vinnie was offering a hand out of the nightmare — for all of us. And he loves you like no other. Whatever he may or may not have done to that foreigner, I know he would never hurt you or Sarah in a million years.’
Clara glared at her mother in disbelief. ‘And that makes it all right?’
‘No,’ Patience was defensive, ‘but I’ll always put my bairns first whatever. You’re a mother now; I bet there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for Sarah.’
Clara snatched her baby from the floor. Sarah cried out, startled. ‘Then why tell me your nasty suspicions about Vinnie?’ Clara said hotly. ‘Cos that’s all they are. You don’t know what happened to that foreigner and you don’t know about Benny.’
She plonked the wailing Sarah into her carrycot and swiftly gathered up her things. Why had she listened to her mother’s wild accusations? Patience hated to admit that Harry had lost all his money through his own weakness for drink and gambling, so she had to blame it on someone else.
‘I’m sorry. You’re right,’ Patience said, pacing after her. ‘Please don’t be angry. I should never have said—’
‘Thank you for looking after Sarah,’ Clara said curtly. ‘I have to get back home.’
‘Please don’t tell V
innie what I said about him.’
Clara’s look was impatient. ‘I’m not likely to, am I?’
‘Let me carry the baby,’ her mother said, trying to make amends. Clara bundled everything into the car and left without another word. Dawn appeared like a red gash downriver as she drove past the Lewises’ forlorn shop front. She did not want to look but could not stop herself. Small shards of broken glass still glinted in the early morning light like scattered diamonds. Upstairs, the curtains were drawn against the world.
Clara felt a stab of pity as she thought of Marta and Oscar hiding behind them, worrying over Benny. How was Reenie coping? What news did they have of Frank? Clara flushed with guilt that she did not know, had actively stayed away from them and hardened her heart towards her old friends. What sort of selfish person had she become?
Abruptly, she parked the car and knocked on the Lewises’ front door. Nobody answered. She tried again.
There was only silence. Clara turned in frustration. Of course the family would be wary of any callers. They were all the more vulnerable without Benny there to defend them. She turned back to the car where Sarah lay still crying. As she did so, a curtain flicked back at the bay window above. She glanced up and it dropped back at once. Shame flooded her. They would not want to see her. She was Vinnie’s wife, one of the fascist elite of Byfell and therefore their enemy. Clara hurried to the car.
‘Clara,’ a voice called quietly behind her. She turned to see Marta peering out from the half-closed front door. ‘Come, come.’ She beckoned her back.
Clara’s heart lifted. ‘I have the baby with me . . .’
‘Ja! I hear her,’ Marta said. ‘Bring her up.’
Clara was hit by a mix of emotions as she entered her old flat. It was still painted in her mother’s beloved browns and beiges, yet it was not her home. There were books everywhere — the remnants of Frank’s bookstall perhaps — and it smelled different, of Marta’s German cooking and Oscar’s pipe smoke.
Oscar was sitting in his vest at a table in the window, unshaven and haggard. Clara was shocked by how much he had aged. He stood up politely.
THE TYNESIDE SAGAS: Box set of three dramatic and emotional stories: A Handful of Stars, Chasing the Dream and For Love & Glory Page 32
