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 was aghast; her brother had enjoyed the fight. ‘It’s not a game, Jimmy,’ she cried.

  He gave her a hard look. ‘You don’t have to tell me that. Don’t worry, I’m not ganin’ to hospital again. Next time it’ll be one of the enemy.’

  Before Clara could remonstrate further, there was a knock at the front door.

  ‘I’ll go,’ she said. ‘It might be Clarkie come to fetch me.’

  Clara opened the door and gasped in shock. Reenie stood there, holding a box of chocolates.

  ‘Hello, Clara,’ she said uncertainly.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Clara demanded. ‘Don’t know how you can show your face.’

  Reenie held her look. ‘I heard at the hospital about Jimmy. Wanted to see if he was all right.’

  ‘He is — but no thanks to you and that thug of a brother of yours.’ Clara’s anger spilled out.

  Reenie’s expression tightened. ‘I’m sorry for what happened to your Jimmy — but they were giving as good as they got and more. We were there just to protest - they were spoiling for a fight.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’ Clara was blunt. ‘I’ve seen the way the anti-fascists work — nails in snowballs. And your Benny’s as violent as they come.’

  ‘He’s not a violent man,’ Reenie replied. ‘He’d only use his fists in self-defence. That’s what Frank taught him. Not like Vinnie, who’s training his lads for open warfare.’

  ‘Don’t speak about my husband like that.’ Clara was furious. ‘Vinnie’s a good man who takes care of his lads. He’s done more for the unemployed round here than anyone.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Reenie said, ‘but he’s getting himself mixed up with a bad lot - and so are you.’

  ‘If you mean the BUF, I’m proud to be one of them,’ Clara retorted. ‘And if you really cared about the people round here you’d be supporting us too.’

  Patience called from inside, ‘Clara, who’s at the door? If it’s Clarkie, tell him to come in.’

  ‘It’s not,’ Clara called back. ‘I won’t be a minute.’ She turned back to Reenie and said in a low voice. ‘I think you should go — Mam’s upset enough as it is.’

  ‘What’s happened to you, Clara?’ Reenie said in bewilderment.

  ‘You should ask yourself the same question,’ Clara hissed. ‘I’m not the one starting fights and putting good lads in hospital.’

  Reenie stepped towards her, blue eyes glittering with passion. For a split second they reminded Clara startlingly of Frank’s.

  ‘Do you know where Fascism leads?’ Reenie demanded. ‘Just look what’s happening in Germany and see what it’s doing to working people. Beating them to a pulp on the streets or rounding them up and putting them in concentration camps before executing them.’

  Clara laughed in disbelief. ‘Concentration camps! Don’t be daft. I’ve spoken to Germans and there are no executions going on.’

  ‘Then your German friends are lying,’ Reenie snapped. ‘There isn’t one Socialist leader left in Germany who isn’t dead or in prison or fled into hiding. The Nazis are allowing no opposition. They’re terrorising the country. Hitler has promised to exterminate the Left. The prisons are so full of trade unionists they’ve had to open up these camps.’

  Clara stood with her arms folded, fending off Reenie’s sudden anger. ‘And how do you know that’s not just Bolshie propaganda?’

  ‘I’ll tell you why,’ Reenie hissed at her. ‘Because Frank’s in one!’

  Clara stared at her, nonplussed. ‘Frank?’ she repeated.

  ‘Yes, Frank!’ Reenie cried.

  Clara’s heart thudded in shock. She closed the door behind her and stepped into the dark street. ‘Tell me,’ she said tensely.

  Reenie let out a long sigh. ‘He was in Munich working for my uncle in the Boiler Makers’ Union. One day they were both arrested at the union offices. The building was burned down. My aunt tried for days to find out what had happened to them. Eventually a friend used his contacts in the Nazi party. Both Frank and Uncle Heinrich are in a new camp; Dachau in Bavaria. It is run by a special unit, the SS, known as Blackshirts. They torture the prisoners and the prisoners are forced to make their own manacles and whips. They are allowed no visitors or letters.’ Reenie gulped, her voice almost a whisper. ‘My uncle was to be released, they said. He was found hanging in his cell on the day my aunt went to fetch him. Suicide, they said, but we don’t believe it.’

  Clara’s heart drummed. After a long moment she said, ‘I’m sorry for your family. But how can you know conditions were so bad if they can’t even communicate? Isn’t it just rumours? Maybe Frank isn’t there at all.’

  Reenie looked up sharply. ‘How I wish that were true. A letter was smuggled out. It was written in the summer but only got here last week. A member of the YS brought it to Lillian.’

  Clara’s stomach churned. ‘From Frank?’

  Reenie nodded. ‘It told of the terrible things that were happening. Frank wasn’t asking anything for himself; he wanted us to tell what was going on under the Nazis’ reign of terror.’ Reenie looked at Clara, her eyes bright with tears. ‘We don’t know if Frank’s still alive. We’ve written — Papa’s even written to the Foreign Office — but we’ve heard nothing.’

  Clara put her hand out to Reenie. ‘I can’t believe it,’ she gasped. ‘There must be something you can do for him. He’s English. He shouldn’t be there.’

  Reenie shook her head. ‘Frank was born in Germany and he’s reverted to calling himself Leizmann. His English upbringing might even go against him — not patriotic enough for the Fatherland.’

  ‘Go to the papers,’ Clara said in desperation.

  ‘Lillian doesn’t want us to make a fuss publicly, in case it puts Frank in greater danger.’

  ‘Lillian’s in England?’ Clara frowned. ‘I thought they were going to be married.’

  ‘She never went back to Germany,’ Reenie explained. ‘Frank told her it was too dangerous.’

  Clara felt helpless and confused at Reenie’s sudden revelation. ‘What can I do to help?’

  Reenie’s look was long and sorrowful. ‘Nothing — except stop this obsession with the BUF.’

  Clara’s expression tightened. ‘It’s not an obsession. It’s something Vinnie and I believe in.’ She gazed at her old friend, wanting her to understand. ‘If what you say about the Nazis is really true, then we’re not like them; not at all.’

  Reenie glanced away. ‘We think you’re on the same road — just not as far down it. That’s why we have to break up your meetings. Benny and me — we do it for Frank.’ She held out the chocolates. ‘Here, give them to Jimmy and say we’re sorry for his injuries.’

  Silently, Clara accepted the box and watched her old friend walk quickly away.

  ***

  Vinnie found Clara still arguing with her mother and Jimmy over the box of chocolates. Jimmy was for throwing them on the fire, Patience for letting Clara take them. Clara, badly shaken from Reenie’s revelations, was shouting, ‘It doesn’t matter about the bloody chocolates, it matters about Frank!’

  ‘I don’t believe a word of it,’ Jimmy replied. ‘Load o’ rubbish.’

  ‘Hey, what’s going on?’ Vinnie demanded. ‘Clara, sit down. You shouldn’t be getting in such a state.’ He threw Patience a look of reproach as he guided his wife into a chair. Then he watched Clara as she poured out the story once again, Clarkie and another Blackshirt standing behind him in the doorway.

  ‘Sounds a bit hysterical to me,’ he said evenly. ‘Concentration camps, torture, smuggled letter! Who’s to say it’s not a fake?’

  ‘Exactly,’ Jimmy grunted.

  ‘But what if it’s true?’ Clara cried. ‘There must be some way of finding out what’s happened to him.’ She appealed to her husband. ‘Maybe Herr Braun could find out for us?’

  ‘He lives in Hamburg, lass,’ Vinnie pointed out. ‘Bavaria’s the other end of Germany.’

  ‘There must be somebody who can help,’ Cl
ara persisted. ‘Frank’s an Englishman; they can’t just arrest him and lock him away.’

  ‘He’s German too,’ Patience sniffed.

  ‘And it depends what he’s been up to,’ Vinnie said. ‘If he’s been stirring it like the rest of his family, they may see him as dangerous — an agitator.’

  ‘But you know Frank,’ Clara exclaimed. ‘He’s not violent.’

  Jimmy got up impatiently. ‘Don’t know why you’re making such a fuss about him. It’s not as if he’s family.’

  ‘You used to idolise him,’ Clara reminded her brother.

  ‘That’s when I was a bairn.’ Jimmy was dismissive.

  Vinnie held up his hands. ‘That’s enough. I’ll not have you falling out over this.’ He put a hand on Clara’s shoulder. ‘I’ll have a word with the German consul; he comes to the Thursday Club. Maybe he can make some enquiries.’

  On the way back home, sitting in the back of the car, Clara said, ‘Perhaps we can find out more when we go to Germany. Not just about Frank, but what’s really happening over there — if these camps really exist.’

  ‘Clara,’ Vinnie took her hand, ‘the Rotary trip is a cultural visit, not an excuse for you to write lurid articles for the Tyne Times. Reenie had no right to upset you with such tales. No doubt she’s jealous of your success. You’ve left her behind socially and she doesn’t like it.’

  ‘She wants me to leave the BUF,’ Clara admitted.

  Vinnie was suddenly riled. ‘I knew there’d be a reason behind all this. How dare she try to interfere in your life!’

  ‘She didn’t sway me in the least,’ Clara said stoutly.

  ‘Oh, but she did. She knew just how to play you — telling that sob story about Frank. She knows you’ve always had a soft spot for him.’

  Clara reddened. ‘Don’t be daft.’

  Vinnie leaned close. ‘I know you, Clara. I know you better than anyone. It was obvious you had a girlish crush on the lad. That’s why you’re so upset now, isn’t it?’ Clara’s mouth dried. ‘See, you can’t deny it.’

  ‘Perhaps I did care for him,’ Clara whispered, ‘but that was before I fell in love with you.’

  Vinnie pulled her close and kissed her. ‘If I find out what’s happened to Frank, will you promise me one thing?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Not to see Reenie or her family again. She’s a bad influence on you, lass — and I’ll not have her upsetting you in your condition.’

  Clara hesitated. She did not like to be told whom she could or could not meet. But she had little intention of renewing her friendship with Reenie anyway.

  ‘The Lewises are in the past, as far as I’m concerned,’ she answered.

  ‘Good,’ Vinnie said. ‘Because if you did, I would take that as a mark of disloyalty to me and to the party.’

  His hand resting on hers tightened in a firm grip. No more was said about the matter, but Clara had the feeling, as they sped away from Byfell, that she was severing some deep-rooted tie with her past that could never be repaired.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Clara’s initial fears over Frank’s fate subsided when their enquiries through the German consul resulted in assurances that he was still alive and well and could be released at any time if he undertook not to plot against the German state.

  ‘He is in a camp for the politically misguided,’ the consul’s letter explained. ‘They are given light work to do and conditions are very good. They are encouraged to keep fit and there is even a swimming pool for their use. His family should have no fears about the lenient treatment shown to Herr Leizmann. He remains there for his own good.’

  This was followed shortly after by a short handwritten note from Frank himself, in German. Below was an English translation from the consul. Clara’s hands shook as she read it.

  ‘. . . I am grateful for this chance to write to my family to tell them I am in good health and being well treated. I am learning much about National Socialism and the Fatherland. I am allowed to play my violin. Kindest regards, Frank Leizmann.’

  Clara, relieved that he was alive and well, sent on the information to the Lewises. Vinnie had asked her not to go in person.

  ‘I’ll not have you getting upset again. You’ve done more than enough for that family,’ he said firmly.

  She received a polite letter back from Marta thanking her for her trouble, grateful for news of her son and saying she was welcome to call whenever she wanted. Clara was hurt that it was not Reenie who had bothered to write back. Perhaps she refused to believe that Frank was being well treated. Whatever the reason, her old friend was obviously ungrateful for the action she had taken on her behalf. It had caused tension between her and Vinnie and a reproachful lecture from Cissie when she had returned from Ireland.

  ‘Goodness me, girl! Why are you getting het up about the treatment of a renegade Englishman — a Marxist? If he’s in prison there must be a good reason. Vinnie’s being very long-suffering about all this, if you ask me.’

  Clara was almost glad when Vinnie announced that the Rotarian trip to Germany had been postponed until the spring when the weather would be better. She wanted to put the whole matter behind her. Far better to concentrate on what was happening in their own country. Frank had been foolhardy to go abroad and try to meddle in German politics. As Patience said, they did things differently in Germany and he should have known better. All he had to do was promise not to interfere again and he could come home. In the meantime, it appeared he was being fairly treated.

  By Christmas Clara’s nausea had worn off and they celebrated in their new home with turkey and plum pudding for Patience and Jimmy, and a party for their friends on Boxing Day. At the end of the year they were invited to the Bell-Carrs’ for a New Year’s house party and saw in the start of 1934 with champagne and games of charades.

  There was an air of optimism among their set. There was a small but perceptible up-turn in the economy and Mosley’s party was receiving more mainstream support, with the Daily Mail championing their cause. There was excited talk of Mosley himself coming to address them at a special rally during Race Week at the end of May.

  ‘He wants a big platform and plenty of support,’ Vinnie told them. ‘It’s a grand opportunity for the North to show our loyalty.’

  Clara continued to work hard at the newspaper, ignoring Dolly’s criticism that she was harming the baby and should be putting her feet up. But Vinnie backed his wife, saying she was doing an important job, using her position to advance their cause.

  ‘It’ll be different once the bairn comes,’ he reassured his mother. ‘She’ll stop work then.’

  Privately, Clara saw herself carrying on writing part-time for Jellicoe even after the baby was born. If they employed a nanny as Willa did, she could still cover some of the more interesting stories.

  By February, Clara’s pregnancy was showing and by March she was suddenly large-bellied and enjoying the feel of her baby kicking vigorously inside. Vinnie would lie in bed with his ear to her swollen belly and delight in any sudden movement. He was still making love to her before he went on the trip to Hamburg in April. Clara was tearful at his departure. It had been agreed that the pregnancy was too advanced for her to travel.

  ‘I don’t know how I’ll manage without you for a fortnight,’ she complained.

  ‘Neither do I,’ Vinnie agreed. ‘But Mam’s here to look after you.’

  Clara ignored this. ‘At least we’ve Mosley’s visit and rally to look forward to next month.’

  ‘And the birth of our baby in June,’ Vinnie added. ‘What a terrific summer we’ll have!’

  ‘Terrific?’ Clara giggled. ‘You’re beginning to sound like Alastair.’

  ‘You cheeky madam,’ Vinnie laughed, tickling her until she begged him to stop. ‘I shan’t stop thinking about you and the bairn for one minute till I’m back.’

  Clara knew the two weeks would drag without her husband’s lively presence and the string of social engagements they were used
to attending. Both the Blakes and the Templetons had gone to Germany too and she missed Willa’s company and that of chattering Robert. Despite her advancing pregnancy Clara felt fit and full of energy. Jellicoe and Miss Holt kept asking when she would be giving up work, but Clara insisted on staying on.

  ‘I’d go mad sitting around at home on my own. It’s bad enough in the evenings, watching Dolly knit endless bootees.’

  After four days, Clara packed a suitcase and announced to Dolly that she was going to stay at her mother’s till Vinnie got back.

  ‘It’s a chance for me and Mam to spend some time together, and it’s handier for work.’

  Dolly protested. ‘I don’t know what Vinnie would have to say about this!’

  ‘It’s only for a few days and Mam’ll take good care of me,’ Clara said breezily.

  Patience was delighted, Jimmy less so. ‘Mrs Craven’s making a fuss about it at the hall. Says Vinnie told her to keep an eye on you, but you wouldn’t be told.’

  ‘Well, you’re one of his troops,’ Clara smiled. ‘You can look out for me instead.’

  ‘Clara’s got every right to come and see her mam,’ Patience retorted. ‘Vinnie’s away having a good time, so why shouldn’t we?’

  Twice, Clara drove them to the Paramount in Newcastle, to see Mae West in She Done Him Wrong and Garbo in Queen Christina. They drove to the coast on Saturday afternoon and sat on the promenade eating ice cream.

  ‘Just wait till the baby comes,’ Patience said excitedly. ‘We can bring her down here and push her along the prom this summer.’

  Clara smiled. ‘You think it’s a she? Vinnie’s convinced it’s a boy. Says it’s got a little boxer’s fists.’

  ‘I hope it is a lass,’ Patience said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Cos Vinnie will dote on her the way he does on you.’ Patience gave a small sigh. ‘He’ll be different with a lad — expect him to grow up hard, teach him to use his fists as soon as he can walk.’