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

Clara clung on. ‘She has to have her food mashed or stewed else she chokes. Stewed apple’s her favourite. And she doesn’t like being left alone for too long. You will pick her up, won’t you? She likes a cuddle — but not too tight. And she can’t sleep in the dark; she needs a light on. She makes a lot of noise, but it’s not always crying, it’s as if she’s trying to sing — but she hates loud noises — shouting or banging . . .’

  ‘Clara, hand her over,’ Vinnie said firmly. The nurse smiled and held out her arms.

  ‘No, I want to put her in her cot myself,’ Clara said. Holding Sarah, she turned towards Vinnie. ‘Say goodbye to your dad, little pet.’ She waited for him to kiss his daughter or say something, but Vinnie just stood there embarrassed, staring beyond them to the high window and the world outside. Sarah struggled restlessly in her arms, grunting softly.

  Heart hammering, Clara kissed her daughter’s soft forehead and smoothed back her dark hair. ‘Goodbye, little one,’ she whispered tearfully and laid her down on the starched sheet. Sarah jerked her arms wildly, her grunting becoming more urgent. Somehow she knew she was being left behind. Clara leaned over and held her hand.

  ‘She’ll be fine,’ the nurse said encouragingly. ‘Best not to make a fuss.’

  Vinnie took Clara by the arm and pulled her away. ‘We’ll be back here the week after next,’ he reminded her. ‘It’ll be no time at all.’

  Clara let go. Sarah strained round, her brown eyes fixed on her mother. Vinnie guided her firmly up the ward. Clara was shaking, swallowing down sobs. Sarah began flailing her arms about, hit the bars and started to wail. Clara halted and looked round. Vinnie stopped her rushing back to Sarah’s cot.

  ‘You’re making this ten times worse,’ he hissed. ‘Just leave her to settle in. She’ll be champion the minute we’ve gone.’

  As he hauled Clara away, the sound of her daughter’s screaming cut through her like a blade. She knew Sarah would not stop crying. Without her to pick her up, she would carry on till she was scarlet in the face and completely exhausted. An orderly unlocked the door, ushered them through and locked it behind them. The howling grew fainter. Swiftly Vinnie marched her out of the building and into the blustery outdoors.

  Gulping for air, Clara rushed over to the nearest tree, bent over and heaved up her breakfast. Vinnie stood over her in concern, his customary handkerchief at the ready. He rubbed her back.

  ‘Haway, lass, you mustn’t upset yourself. Is it the baby making you sick?’

  She took his handkerchief and held it to her mouth, unable to answer.

  They drove back to town in silence. As they neared Newcastle, Vinnie began to whistle ‘Smoke Gets in your Eyes’. Clara burst into tears. Quickly he put a hand on her knee.

  ‘You’ll feel better for a cry,’ he soothed her. ‘We’ve done the right thing, Clara. It may not feel like it right this minute, but it will do soon.’ He squeezed her knee. ‘Just me and you again,’ he smiled. ‘Be like old times.’ Then he rested his hand gently on her stomach. ‘Until the nipper comes along.’

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Clara tried to be positive about what they had done. It was for Sarah’s benefit. She would be surrounded by professionals who would know how best to help her, and Clara herself, freed from the worry that her own care was inadequate, would be able to love her unreservedly — like a proper mother, she thought. It would also help mend her frayed marriage. Between the suspicion and tension following the attack on the Lewises and their rows over Sarah, her relationship with Vinnie had come under increasing strain. She longed to recapture their loving intimacy.

  When he was away from the house, he rang several times a day to speak to her, to make sure she was all right.

  ‘Don’t want you fretting on your own,’ he said.

  ‘I’m not on my own,’ she reminded him, ‘I’ve got your mother and the Shadow.’ This was her nickname for Jimmy.

  ‘Good,’ Vinnie chuckled. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

  But she was often in bed by the time he returned and he would protest that she had not waited to dine with him. She dared not tell him that her days were achingly long and empty without their daughter to look after. Going to bed was an attempt to shorten their tedium.

  ‘Sorry, I was tired,’ Clara said, although she lay awake half the night, listening out for Sarah’s crying. Sometimes she heard a noise that was so like the child’s wailing that she sprang from bed and rushed into the darkened nursery, only to find it was the call of a neighbouring cat prowling across the roof. Staring at the empty cot in the moonlight made her wince with pain. Only the thought of the new baby kept at bay her feelings of loss over Sarah. Placing her hands on her belly, which had yet to swell, Clara murmured encouragement to her unborn.

  ‘Please be all right. Please be everything Vinnie wants.’

  When she returned to bed, Vinnie would sleepily throw a protective arm about her. But as she snuggled into his hold, he would stop her exploring hand. He had imposed the same rule of abstinence as in the latter stages of her pregnancy with Sarah. There would be no lovemaking until after the baby was safely born.

  The days dragged until the Saturday when Vinnie had promised to take her up to Gilead.

  ‘I’m sorry, lass, but this promoter’s coming up from London specially and I have to gan into town,’ he told her two days before.

  ‘Vinnie, you promised!’ she cried in disbelief.

  ‘We can gan up next week — half day Wednesday,’ he promised.

  ‘I can’t wait till then!’ Clara protested.

  ‘The lass isn’t ganin’ to be any the wiser,’ he said shortly.

  ‘But I am,’ Clara said, ‘and I want to see her on Saturday. If you can’t take me, I’ll drive up there myself.’

  ‘No you won’t.’ Vinnie was firm. ‘Not in your condition.’

  ‘Please, Vinnie. You said we could visit every fortnight. Let Jimmy take me.’

  Vinnie relented. ‘All right, but only if Jimmy does all the driving — and you don’t go over-tiring yourself or getting in a state.’

  Clara got Jimmy up early on the Saturday morning, as excited as if she was on a Sunday school trip, and packed a picnic. Her brother grumbled at the early start but seemed quite amenable to the idea of a jaunt into the countryside and the chance to give the car a good run out. However, he baulked at her suggestion that he should go into the hospital with her, so he waited outside while she went through the lengthy process of signing in and being escorted to the ward. Sarah could be taken out for two hours around the grounds.

  ‘She must be back for dinner time at twelve,’ the matron told her.

  ‘But I’ve brought a picnic,’ Clara explained.

  Matron shook her head. ‘It’s important she sticks to her regime, otherwise she becomes distressed.’

  Clara bristled at the way the woman spoke about her daughter as if she knew her better than she did, but bit her tongue for fear of being prevented from seeing Sarah.

  Her daughter lay in the cot, exactly as she had left her. Clara’s heart squeezed with longing. Sarah was gazing at the sunlight peeping in at the high window, making her usual snuffling noises. Clara leaned over her. Sarah jerked round. Her eyes were unfocused for a moment, then something in them changed; a spark of recognition? Sarah’s upper body began to writhe and her mouth opened to let out a high-pitched squeal.

  Clara laughed. ‘Yes, it’s Mammy!’ She reached down and seized the small girl, swinging her out of the cot. Sarah threw her arms about and grunted in delight. Clara kissed her fiercely and hugged her so tightly, Sarah began to scream.

  ‘Mrs Craven,’ the matron chided, ’you mustn’t disturb the other children.’

  Clara apologised and hurried out after the orderly, unable to keep her own sobbing quiet. She and Jimmy pushed Sarah around in a hospital pram, her brother hauling the pram up the steeper pathways between the thick rhododendron bushes. It was spitting with rain, but they stopped under a sheltering willow tree, spread out
a rug and laid Sarah between them. Bashfully, Jimmy tickled his niece under the chin and she let out a shriek. He recoiled. Clara was quick to reassure him. ‘Don’t be shy of her — she likes that.’

  ‘Does she?’ he asked dubiously.

  ‘Honest.’ Clara laughed.

  Jimmy tickled her again and Sarah let out a noise like steam in a kettle. He laughed. ‘She’s a funny ’un.’

  Clara inspected her daughter. She seemed healthy enough, even if her hospital clothes felt a bit hard and starched. She propped Sarah up between her knees and fed her some stewed apple she had brought for their picnic.

  ‘Don’t tell Matron, eh, bonny lass? Or we’ll both be in trouble.’

  Jimmy watched her. ‘Why do you bother speaking to her when she can’t understand a word?’

  Clara kissed the top of Sarah’s head. ‘Maybe not the words but she understands the meaning behind them.’ He looked puzzled. ‘From the sound of my voice, she knows I’m speaking to her — and she knows I love her. That’s what matters, isn’t it?’

  Jimmy shrugged. ‘Suppose so.’

  A nurse met them at the entrance to Sarah’s block. ‘Matron doesn’t want you taking her back to the ward,’ she said with a look of apology.

  Clara kissed her daughter a swift goodbye and hurried away, knowing that to look back would only prolong the agony. She cried quietly for most of the drive home. She was grateful that Jimmy did not whistle or try to coax her out of her sadness with false promises that she would soon feel better, as Vinnie had.

  She was supposed to be meeting Vinnie at the Sandford Rooms for dinner that evening, but she told Dolly to ring him and say she was unwell and went straight to bed. She lay listening to the sound of children playing in a neighbouring garden, clutching a clump of dark hair that she had snipped from Sarah’s head that morning. If she pressed it to her nose she could capture a faint smell of her daughter.

  Vinnie was cross with her for missing the dinner with their friends, but when she said she was feeling sick with the baby, he was quickly mollified.

  The next week dragged, worse than the one before, Clara knowing there would be no visit to Gilead at the end of it. She knew the emptiness would not last once their second baby was born, but that day stretched a long six months away. She would go mad if all she had in her life was those brief precious hours with Sarah, once a fortnight.

  ‘Go and visit Willa or Mabel,’ Vinnie suggested when she complained of having nothing to do.

  ‘I can’t do that every day,’ Clara said restlessly, ‘and they’ve got their boys to look after.’

  ‘And so will you soon.’ Vinnie grinned.

  ‘Not soon enough,’ Clara answered. ‘Why don’t we go to the pictures? We used to go two or three times a week. Just you and me, Vinnie? Sneak off work and go to the matinee.’

  ‘I’d like nothing better,’ he said, ‘but I haven’t got the time. Get Jimmy to take you, lass.’

  Finally, frustrated at her idleness, Clara confronted her husband.

  ‘I want to go back to work, Vinnie. At least for a couple of months.’

  ‘Work?’ he said sharply.’ For Jellicoe?’

  ‘Just part time,’ Clara bargained, ‘the odd feature — keep my hand in.’

  He gave her a stormy look. ‘No, never! You’re not working for him again. I can’t believe you’re even asking after what happened with Sarah.’

  ‘That wasn’t his fault,’ Clara insisted. ‘I badgered him to let me cover the rally.’

  ‘It makes no difference. You’re not going back to that paper — or any paper for that matter. Your job is being my wife.’

  Clara was filled with frustration. ‘Then let me work for you! Anything; I could help Mam with the paperwork at the garage, or down at the hall.’

  He shook his head in incomprehension. ‘I’ve slaved for years to give you all you’ve ever wanted — this house, a car, dinners out, posh friends. What you want to gan working for? That’s what working-class lasses have to do. You’ve left all that behind; we’ve left it behind. How do you think it would look, you ganin’ to work for me like a common clerk, like I can’t afford to keep you properly?’

  ‘Cissie works for the Women’s Section,’ Clara retorted, ‘and no one calls her a common clerk.’

  ‘That’s different,’ Vinnie said. ‘She’s doing political work, supporting her husband. She doesn’t do the menial jobs; she raises funds from her rich friends.’ He eyed her. ‘If you must do something, why don’t you do charity work like Willa and Cissie? That would look good among our supporters — raising money for veterans or something.’ He nodded in approval at his idea. ‘I’ll have a word with George about it.’

  Clara turned from him in disappointment. She did not want to attend endless luncheons or hold ‘at homes’ with the same small group of people they always met. The more she thought about her old life as a reporter, the more she hankered to be out and about, meeting new people and hearing their stories. But Vinnie would never allow it.

  She resigned herself to joining in Willa’s charity work. August came and the next visit to Gilead. This time Vinnie came with her, but vetoed any idea of a leisurely walk and a picnic in the grounds. Clara had barely an hour with her daughter, sitting with her on a bench outside the children’s block while Vinnie paced up and down, pulling out his pocket watch on its gold chain every five minutes.

  She determined that next time she would take Jimmy again. Vinnie showed not the slightest interest in Sarah and Clara hid her resentment with difficulty.

  A few days later, Vinnie came home grinning with news.

  ‘I’ve got something that’ll cheer you up,’ he said. ‘No more being bored for my wife.’

  ‘What?’ Clara asked, intrigued.

  ‘We’re going to go to Germany with the British Legion! The Bell-Carrs are organising it and they’ve asked us to come too. How about that?’

  ‘When?’ Clara gasped.

  ‘End of August,’ Vinnie announced. ‘We’ll visit the Brauns in Hamburg so I can do a bit of business. Then a few days touring afterwards with the Bell-Carrs.’

  ‘How long for?’ Clara asked.

  ‘Fortnight.’ Vinnie beamed. ‘Always said I’d take you abroad one day, didn’t I? Well now’s your chance.’

  Clara’s first thought was that she would miss one of her visits to Gilead. But she tried not to show her reluctance. The Clara of old would have seized the chance to travel. Why was she so unsure?

  ‘It sounds grand,’ she said cautiously, ‘but I’m not sure I should be travelling while I’m expecting.’

  ‘I’ll take good care of you,’ Vinnie assured her. ‘Nothing too strenuous. Cissie will look after you when I’ve got trade meetings. I hate the thought of going away and leaving you at home. I want you with me, Clara.’

  Clara was encouraged by his tender words. Perhaps this would be just the time they needed to bring them closer together again.

  ‘Do we have to travel with the Bell-Carrs?’ she asked. ‘It would be so nice just to be the two of us together.’

  Vinnie looked at her in astonishment. ‘It’s thanks to them we’re going,’ he told her. ‘We wouldn’t be invited without them.’

  Clara determined to throw herself into the holiday with as much enthusiasm as possible. She enlisted Willa’s help in a shopping trip, Vinnie insisting she must have new clothes for the visit. Clara confided in her friend that she was pregnant again. Willa was delighted.

  ‘Oh, I’m thrilled! It makes up for—’ She broke off, blushing. ‘Well, you know what I mean.’ She squeezed her arm. ‘It’s wonderful news. I bet Vinnie’s over the moon.’

  ‘Yes, he is,’ Clara admitted.

  Jimmy collected them both with the shopping and took Clara home. She was upstairs laying out her new clothes to show Vinnie later when it happened without warning. She felt sudden stomach gripes and rushed to the bathroom. To her horror she was bleeding. She stayed there for several stunned minutes. What did this mean? Was s
he losing the baby?

  ‘Please don’t let me lose the bairn!’

  She cried out to Dolly for help. Her mother-in-law sent Jimmy for Dr Dixon and ordered Clara to bed. She lay there, trying not to move, willing the nightmare to vanish. After examining her, the doctor said, ‘I’m sorry, but you’re probably going to miscarry. All you can do is wait and see. If the bleeding gets much worse, call me again.’

  By the time Vinnie came home, Clara was bleeding continuously.

  ‘Why did no one tell me earlier!’ he shouted.

  ‘Because there’s nothing you can do about it,’ Dolly said with a pitying look.

  The doctor rang for an ambulance. ‘Given your wife’s earlier complications, it’s best if this is handled in hospital.’

  ‘What will they do?’ Vinnie demanded. ‘Can they save the bairn?’

  Dr Dixon shook his head. ‘This is for your wife’s safety.’

  Clara watched them all mutely: Vinnie’s angry face, Dolly’s tight-lipped frown, the doctor’s resigned expression. Only Jimmy, hovering in the doorway, was looking at her with sorrow.

  Later, lying alone in the hospital bed in the early hours, Clara let her tears come. The weight of failure was suffocating. It was then that she realised how much she had relied upon this baby to fill the void in her life; a void created by Sarah’s absence, by Vinnie’s preoccupation with work and his own political advancement, by her enforced idleness. She had yearned for this baby as the key to making her life vibrant and fulfilling once more.

  Early the next morning she was taken away to the operating theatre and put into merciful oblivion. When she awoke, she was back on the ward and told it was all over. She should go home and recuperate for a few days. It was Jimmy who came and collected her. Vinnie was at work. Patience came to see her and sat holding her hand while Clara wept.

  ‘You’ll try again,’ her mother tried to console her.

  ‘I wanted that baby!’ Clara cried angrily. ‘I don’t want some far-off, try-again baby.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Oh, Mam,’ Clara said in despair. ‘How can I bear the emptiness?’