All that following week, towards the end of August, Mark called into the Coach and Eight for a drink and a game of pool with Skippy during his friend’s lunch hour. Jo found herself looking forward to their appearance, watching out for them coming through the door with their constant joking chat. She wished that Colin was there too to share in the fun, but his tour of Northern Ireland would not he over until just before Christmas, which seemed an age away.
One afternoon, when she was walking home after three o’clock closing, she found Mark waiting for her on the road up to the flats. He was dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt that accentuated his muscled arms and the darkness of his skin. Jo’s heart skipped a beat.
‘Fancy a walk down the Burn?’ he asked, and she thought he seemed nervous. She hesitated a moment, looking around for a sign of the others, but Mark was alone.
‘Aye, why not?’ she agreed, sensing there was something different happening between them. He grinned with relief and fell into step with her. Descending into the dene, they began to reminisce about their escapades there as children.
‘Reckon you can still climb that tree?’ Mark challenged, nodding towards the vast horse chestnut.
‘Why-aye!’ Jo replied at once, thankful that she had put on dungarees that morning. She reached for the old familiar branches and hauled herself up, scrabbling against the trunk with her chunky sandals and finding it much harder than she had remembered. Mark laughed and gave her a shove from below.
‘You’re not as fit as you used to be,’ he commented, ‘but you’re a cannier shape.’
Jo blushed and took a swipe at him. ‘Just ’cos you’ve got muscles like Popeye.’
‘Glad you’ve noticed,’ Mark grinned, swinging himself up easily beside her.
They sat astride the thick branch, half hidden by rustling leaves, listening to the sound of an ice-cream van jingling in the distance.
‘This takes me back,’ Jo mused, swinging her legs.
‘Aye,’ Mark said softly, ‘some of me happiest times were up here.’ He looked at her with his large dark eyes and Jo was suddenly aware of how close they were sitting, knees touching, hands clasping the same stretch of branch. ‘With you, I mean,’ he added. The smile he gave her was so warm and tender that Jo felt tears prick her eyes.
‘Me too,’ she whispered. Then it happened. Mark leaned across and kissed her gently, tentatively on the lips. In all the years they had been friends, he had never done that before. Deep inside, she felt something hard and bitter melt at his touch, as if the disappointment and shame with which Gordon had filled her was dispelled, and she bent her head and began to cry.
Mark stared in alarm. ‘I’m sorry, Jo…’ he said, bewildered, drawing back. Jo could not speak, but shook her head and stretched out a hand to him, grasping his firm shoulder. He put an arm around her and stroked the hair from her face. ‘Hey, I didn’t mean to spoil things between us.’
‘You haven’t,’ Jo rasped. ‘It’s me − I’m sorry.’
Mark shushed her and held on as she wept against his shoulder. At last he lifted her chin gently. ‘I think we should get down before we fall out of this tree.’ He swung down from the branch first and then helped Jo down. She found herself standing under the tree, clinging on to him. Mark steered her round the trunk and sat her down in its shade, away from the path.
‘I don’t know why I did that,’ he said bashfully. ‘Trying to kiss you. It just seemed right...’
Jo put out a hand and touched his face. ‘I felt it too,’ she said quietly.
‘But you don’t want it to go any further?’ Mark asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Jo said, confused. ‘I’ve never thought of you like that until now.’
Mark gave a rueful smile. ‘I shouldn’t have listened to Marilyn. She thought I might stand a chance with you.’
‘Marilyn’s been talking about me to you?’ Jo said, aghast. ‘What did she say?’
‘Said you’d been hurt by someone recently. That it would do you good to go out with someone who cared for you.’ He gave her one of his penetrating looks. ‘And I do care for you, Jo. I have for a long time. But I don’t think you feel the same. Have I ruined me chances up that tree?’ he asked, with a smile of regret.
Jo was overwhelmed by his words. She took his handsome face between her hands and kissed him back gratefully. ‘You’re so canny,’ she said, smiling at him tearfully. ‘I do care for you, Mark.’
She felt his arms go round her in a tight hug and then they kissed again, a longer, more confident kiss. It filled Jo with tenderness and surprise that their friendship had come to this moment. It was nothing like the intensity she had felt for Gordon, but it soothed her like a balm and she clung on to him afterwards, happy in their new intimacy.
They went for a long walk and then back to the flat, where Jack was making tea. Jo dreaded some tactless comment from her father, knowing he was still wary of Mark since his skinhead days. But after an awkward few minutes, Mark put Jack at his ease, asking after Colin and talking about past voyages. Mark stayed for tea, and by the time Jo had to return to the pub, she was finding it difficult to stop them talking about life at sea.
At the end of the evening, Mark was waiting to walk her home with a bunch of flowers he had picked from Bewick’s garden. They kissed under the stars by the park railings and Jo was amazed to find him so romantic.
‘How many other lasses have had this treatment in other ports?’ she teased.
‘None,’ he declared, then added mischievously, ‘as bonny as you.’
‘I could get used to this,’ she smiled as they walked up the road, arm in arm.
‘Did this other lad not treat you right?’ Mark asked.
Jo tensed. ‘I made a big mistake with him,’ she confessed. ‘I thought I was really in love. But whatever it was, it wasn’t that. I found out afterwards he had another lass all the time he was seeing me. You’ve got more kindness and understanding in your little finger than he’ll ever have.’
‘Who was he?’ Mark asked.
Jo could not look at him as she agonised over whether she should tell him. But she was still too hurt by the affair, and her courage failed her. ‘I don’t want to talk about him anymore,’ she gulped.
She felt him squeeze her tight. ‘Well, whoever he was, he must have been daft to throw you over. But his loss is my gain.’
Jo had a sudden image of Gordon’s mocking smile and wondered uncomfortably what he would think when he heard she was seeing Mark. She imagined he would take a perverse pleasure in knowing he had gone out with her first, and she felt a niggling dread at Mark finding out. She told herself it didn’t matter; Gordon couldn’t hurt either of them with his petty point-scoring, it wouldn’t change the way Mark felt about her. But all the way home she had the uncomfortable feeling that she had missed the right moment to tell him.
She lay awake that night, wondering if she was right to encourage Mark so readily. Was she doing it because she really loved him, or was there an element of wanting to get back at Gordon? she asked herself brutally. Her uncertainty at her motives made her cautious in their courtship, and for a couple of weeks she kept Mark’s ardour in check. She knew he wanted to take their relationship further, and part of her longed for that intimacy too. But she was scared of getting hurt again and guilty that she might in turn hurt Mark if her feelings were not as strong as his. What if her new-found love should fade once he was back at sea, as it had done for Brenda? Was she guilty of using him for a summer fling in the same way as Gordon had used her? she agonised.
Then, one night, Mark took her out for an Indian meal, for he liked exotic food since his travels. They got dressed up and Jo felt there was an edge to their chat, a charged atmosphere that she could not ignore. He walked her back to the flat, but at the doorway she said impulsively, ‘Let’s go for a walk down the Burn.’
They both knew then that it was going to happen, and they hurried, nervousness and excitement gripping them, each unusually silent. It wa
s a windy night and the trees were swaying and moaning in the stiff breeze. Mark laid out his jacket on the damp grass under their chestnut tree, which was already tinged with the yellow of the end of summer. They lay down and embraced, fumbling at each other’s clothes and laughing with embarrassment at their attempts to undress each other. But Mark covered her in kisses and took his time. He was such a tender lover that Jo wanted to weep at the contrast with his brother, then chided herself that she still compared them. She wondered bleakly if she would ever rid herself of thoughts of Gordon, or would he always have a malign hold over her?
Jo clung to Mark, hoping desperately that his caring, loving nature would protect them both from his brother.
‘I love you!’ Mark whispered as he made love to her in the dark.
Jo let the tears flow down her face, thankful for his love. She wanted to say it back, but instead found herself saying, ‘You make me so happy!’
She was filled with relief that this was the moment she could put the affair with Gordon behind her. Mark’s new-found love would make everything right, she determined. She was crying because she was happy, she assured herself. Yet inside, a small, poisonous voice struck at her peace of mind.
‘You’re just fooling yourself,’ it said, ‘and sooner or later you’ll regret this night.’
Chapter Ten
That September was the happiest Jo could remember. She was enjoying her job and helping at the theatre, and looking forward in anticipation to starting college with Marilyn. And to cap it all, she was ‘courting’, as Ivy and her father kept saying. But this time there was no sneaking behind people’s backs like with Gordon. Mark made a fuss of her wherever they went, as if he enjoyed showing her off, and their other friends seemed happy for them too. He made her feel loved and wanted and restored her self-esteem after the trauma of being dumped by Gordon. In return, she wanted to make his leave happy too, and they went everywhere together.
They had days at the coast, borrowing Skippy’s car to visit places, and went to the football together. Unlike her solitary expeditions with Gordon, they often went in a group with their friends, for Mark was sociable and out to have as much fun as they could cram into the final days of his leave.
He was due to join a cargo ship at the end of September, when Jo and Marilyn would be heading for college. They talked of what they would do when they met up at Christmas time, when Colin would be back too. Jo revelled in thoughts of the future and no longer dwelled on the mistakes and heartache of the summer. The nearer October drew, the more impatient she became about becoming a student. She was keen to start her course and go back to her books again, and talked excitedly about the drama she would be doing. Although the thought of leaving Wallsend made her nervous, she felt she was ready to see more of the world.
Mark seemed happy for her and encouraged her desire to become a teacher. ‘I might have paid more attention in class if I’d had a teacher like you,’ he joked.
So she was not prepared for what he had to say on one of their walks along the promenade one chilly late-September day.
‘Will you miss me as much as I’ll miss you?’ he asked, hugging her tight.
‘Of course I will,’ Jo replied.
‘How will I know?’ he pressed.
‘I’ll write to you,’ she smiled, ‘in between all the essays.’ But she could see by his expression that something was worrying him. ‘What’s wrong?’
Mark flushed. ‘It’s just... all those other students − the male ones.’
Jo touched his face affectionately. ‘If I promise not to speak to any other lads, will you be happy?’ she teased.
‘I’d be happier if you agreed to get engaged before you went,’ he blurted out.
Jo stared at him. ‘Engaged?’ she repeated. ‘But we’ve only being going out a month.’ The idea made her flustered.
‘But we’ve known each other since we were bairns, Jo,’ Mark reminded her. ‘I know what I want.’
Jo floundered. ‘But now? I’m at the start of a three-year course; I’m going to be away a lot, and so are you. I don’t think we should be tying ourselves down just yet.’
He looked hurt. ‘I don’t see it as being tied down,’ he protested. I’m sorry you see it that way. I just thought it would show we belonged together.’
He began to walk off. Jo took his arm. ‘We do belong together. But I don’t see that we need to make it so official. I’m going to be nineteen in two days’ time. I don’t want to think about getting wed yet. I want to prove I can make something of myself first − get qualified.’ He looked at her silently. ‘You chose to go away and do something you enjoy, Mark. Why can’t I?’
For a moment his face looked stormy, a deep frown carved between his lively eyes. Then he gave a regretful shrug. ‘Aye, you’re right. I was just being selfish. Course you must gan to college; I never meant to stand in your way.’
It was the nearest they had come to an argument, and Jo put her arms around him, thankful that the subject was dropped and a row averted. Still she was left with an uncomfortable thought: why had she been so panicked by his idea? An engagement would have been a bit sudden, but no one would have been that surprised, since they had been friends for such a long time. She told herself she was just being cautious after the hurt over Gordon, and buried the disloyal thought that she might still feel something for Mark’s older brother.
She agreed to meet Mark the following afternoon, but that night she began to feel unwell and in the early hours of the morning was sick. She struggled to get up for work, but was instantly sick again. Her father, worried at her pasty look and her vomiting, forbade her to get out of bed.
‘It’s a bug,’ Jo groaned, curling up in bed to stem the dizziness and nausea. ‘I’ll be all right by tomorrow.’ She hated the thought of being unwell for her birthday, for Mark had arranged a disco in the room above the pub and invited their friends.
He came round full of concern and wanted to call the doctor, but Jo told them both to stop fussing and leave her alone. Her birthday came and Jo got up, feeling much better, but after half an hour on her feet behind the bar she began to feel strange again. The smoke and the smell of the hot pies on the counter made her want to retch, and she kept having to dive outside for fresh air. Nancy was giving her funny looks, and eventually Ted told Marilyn to take her home.
‘I’m sorry,’ Jo apologised weakly, ‘it must be something I’ve eaten.’
‘Go and have a lie-down before your party,’ said the easy-going landlord as Nancy sniffed her disapproval at being left to serve on her own. Marilyn stayed a while to keep her company, sitting on the end of her bed flicking through a magazine Brenda had left the day before.
‘Do you want me to cancel the party? You’re not going to enjoy it in this condition,’ her friend commented. Jo groaned in disappointment; everything had been going so well up until now, and the party was her big chance to see all her friends before starting college. ‘Mark’s right, you should let the doctor take a look at you.’ Marilyn gave her a sideways glance.
‘What is it?’ Jo asked weakly, knowing by that look that her friend had something to say. Marilyn kept flicking the pages of the magazine nervously. ‘Spit it out,’ Jo said, her green eyes looking like dark pools in her pale face.
‘It was just…well, I was wondering…’ She tossed the magazine down. ‘Oh, nothing. Just make sure you go to the doctor’s. I’m worried about you, that’s all.’
Jo closed her eyes, baffled by her friend’s reticence. ‘Aye, maybes I will.’
The party was cancelled, and after another day of not feeling well, Jo went down to the clinic at the Forum. Dr Samson checked her over, but could find nothing wrong.
‘You may be a touch anaemic,’ he suggested, and took a couple of samples.
The following day, Jo went back to work, finding that she could keep the nausea at bay by eating small amounts regularly. The day after, feeling much better, she went into Newcastle with Marilyn to buy some clothes for coll
ege and a new set of mugs and a teapot for her room. ‘We’ll all go for a final night out next week; make up for not having the party,’ she suggested brightly. On her return, Jack told her that someone from the clinic had been on and wanted her to ring back. He was preoccupied with the thought of Pearl returning in a couple of weeks’ time and was constantly checking her flat and doing small jobs around it, as if being there would make her come back all the quicker.
Jo rang the clinic. ‘Just a minute, Doctor wants a word with you,’ she was told. She hung on, beginning to feel nervous. Eventually Dr Samson answered.
‘You are slightly anaemic,’ he told her, ‘so I’m going to give you iron tablets.’ Jo felt instant relief. Then he added, ‘But the urine test has shown up positive; that’s why you’ve been feeling sick.’
‘What do you mean, positive?’ Jo asked.
He cleared his throat. ‘It means you’re pregnant, Joanne,’ he explained. She gaped at the receiver.
‘Pregnant?’ She began to shake. ‘Are you sure?’ It simply had not occurred to her that she might be. Mark had been so careful.
‘Quite sure,’ he confirmed. ‘It’s showing up strongly, so you must be a good couple of months into the pregnancy. When was your last period?’
Jo struggled to think. She was never regular and could go for weeks without having one. Come to think of it, she had not had one since early in the summer holidays − when she started going out with Gordon. Her heart began to hammer in fright. She and Gordon had not always been so careful. A good couple of months meant that the baby could not be Mark’s. She began to tremble at the implications.
Dr Samson cleared his throat again. ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’
Jo flushed puce. ‘Yes,’ she gulped, deeply embarrassed to be discussing this with the family doctor who had dealt with all her childhood ailments.
‘Good. Have you discussed with him the possibility of you being pregnant?’ he asked matter-of-factly.
‘No,’ Jo said faintly.
THE TYNESIDE SAGAS: Box set of three dramatic and emotional stories: A Handful of Stars, Chasing the Dream and For Love & Glory Page 96
