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

  ‘What have you been up to?’ Jo asked Pearl.

  ‘Don’t go all defensive,’ Pearl warned. ‘Norma’s an old friend of mine and I just thought you two should get together − make the peace. She seemed keen on the idea; she’s inviting us round one morning if you want.’

  ‘Why should I?’ Jo said indignantly. ‘She turned her back on Mark years ago. What sort of mother would do that to her own son?’

  ‘A frightened one,’ Pearl answered. ‘I know what she did was wrong, but she really believed Mark would be safer with Ivy than with her. It broke her heart to do it.’

  ‘I don’t believe that!’ Jo cried. ‘She rejected him just like Mark’s dad and brother have done. She didn’t have to stay with that bully.’

  Pearl gave her a pleading look. ‘I know it looks that way, and I don’t understand myself why Norma hangs on with Matty. Goodness knows, I’ve tried to make her see sense. But he has a hold over her – emotional and financial. I think the thought of leaving him frightens her more than staying. But that doesn’t mean she should be denied the chance to see Mark wed and to be a grandmother to your baby, does it?’

  Jo felt suddenly churlish to deny her aunt’s request. Norma was to be pitied, living on in that loveless house with men who despised her. She was weak rather than malicious for not standing up for her younger son.

  ‘What about Mark’s dad?’ she countered. ‘He won’t approve.’

  ‘No, he doesn’t,’ Pearl admitted. ‘But this would be for Norma. She’s sticking her neck out for Mark for once. Please, Joanne.’

  ‘Only if Mark agrees. I won’t do anything to hurt him,’ Jo insisted. ‘If he doesn’t want me to see his mam, then I won’t.’

  But to her surprise, Mark did not dismiss the idea. ‘Maybe Pearl has a point. Nana’s always trying to get me to make it up with Mam. But I’ve never seen why I should make the effort when she doesn’t,’ he defended himself.

  Jo was quick to support him. ‘I don’t blame you in the least. I’ll not go if you think it’s a bad idea.’ But as she searched his troubled face, she felt instinctively that he wanted to find some way back to the mother who had abandoned him.

  ‘Well, going round for a cup of coffee isn’t doing any harm, I suppose,’ he said tentatively.

  Jo was filled with dread at the thought of going to the Duggans’, but this was something she could do for Mark and she buried her own reluctance.

  She chose a time to go with Pearl when she knew Matty and Gordon would be out at work, for she had no intention of seeing them. Making amends with Norma was one thing; forgiving Matty for his abuse of Mark or Gordon for his treatment of her was quite another. The house was a neat semi in a long row of similar houses with small front gardens and lots of lacy net curtains to screen the interiors from prying eyes.

  Norma welcomed them in with a nervous smile and apologies about the weather, as if the rain were her fault. Jo let the older women chatter on while she sipped at a weak tea, nauseous at the smell of coffee in the spotless sitting room. She gazed around at the plush velvet suite, the reproduction furniture and the myriad ornaments and wondered if Norma thought it had all been worth it; this ordered, comfortable house, instead of poverty and precarious living with her youngest son.

  ‘Joanne?’ Pearl was demanding her attention. ‘Norma was asking after Mark.’

  Jo saw Mark’s mother shredding a paper serviette in her lap as she waited.

  ‘He’s well.’ Jo forced herself to smile. ‘Loving his new job. He’s down to Durham today with a house move. And he’s really pleased about the baby coming.’

  Norma gave a trembling smile and to Jo’s alarm looked on the verge of tears. ‘So am I,’ she confessed. ‘I hope you’ll let me help out when the time comes − in any way. I’d like to make up for…’ She faltered.

  A moment later she was in floods of tears. Pearl went to her and put a comforting arm about her shoulders. ‘I’m sorry, Joanne,’ Norma sobbed. ‘I know I’ve been a t-terrible mam. P-please let me try and be a good grandma.’

  Pearl looked across appealingly. Jo put down her cup and reached over to touch Norma’s arm. ‘It’s not me you should be saying this to,’ she told her gently, ‘it’s Mark.’

  ‘I know,’ she wept, clutching at Jo’s hand. ‘I want to…’

  Just then there was the sound of a key in the lock and the front door opened and banged shut. They all jumped. Jo looked at the door in horror as it swung open bringing a blast of cold air. Gordon stood staring at them, nonplussed.

  ‘Oh, it’s only you.’ Norma breathed a sigh of relief. But Jo’s heart was hammering painfully. She felt her throat drying in fear. His long hair was tousled in the wind, his face as leanly handsome as ever. His brown eyes narrowed in suspicion, then a small smile lifted his sensual lips as he recognised her. She sensed the danger in that smile and her heart turned cold.

  ‘I didn’t expect you back for your dinner,’ Norma said, trying to compose herself.

  ‘Obviously,’ Gordon commented. ‘I forgot me bait.’

  ‘You remember Pearl and Joanne, don’t you?’ his mother said, fidgeting nervously.

  ‘Oh, aye,’ he smiled, ‘I remember.’ He gave Jo a mocking look and she glanced away, her cheeks burning. ‘I hear you’re to be congratulated,’ he persisted. Jo nodded, forcing a smile. ‘Childhood sweethearts, eh? And a baby on the way, Mam says.’

  ‘Gordon!’ Norma protested weakly.

  ‘Sorry, am I not supposed to know?’ he asked.

  Pearl was looking between them, rather puzzled. ‘Half of Wallsend seems to,’ her aunt intercepted. ‘But Jo and Mark are very happy about it − we all are; now we’ve had time to get used to the idea. So you’ll be Uncle Gordon, how does that suit you?’

  Gordon shrugged. ‘I can’t see me having much to do with Mark’s bairn,’ he answered. Then he gave Jo one of his appraising looks. ‘So when’s it due?’

  She felt faint and her pulse raced uncomfortably as she forced herself to answer as casually as possible. ‘In the spring,’ she said, deliberately vague.

  ‘Early May, isn’t it, pet?’ Pearl queried. Jo nodded, knowing it for a lie.

  Gordon gave her a sardonic smile before heading for the kitchen. ‘Good luck,’ he called over his shoulder, in a tone that said he couldn’t care less. Shortly afterwards he banged out of the door again and was gone, leaving Jo shaking from the encounter.

  Pearl noticed. ‘You don’t look well, pet.’

  ‘I’m still not over the queasy bit.’ Jo pulled a face. ‘I’ll have a lie-down before going into work.’

  Pearl and Norma fussed over her and Jo was thankful to leave the Duggans’ house and the atmosphere of tense claustrophobia that she sensed. ‘I don’t know how she stands it there,’ she said afterwards to Pearl, gulping in the cold autumnal air.

  ‘No, I could see you were upset,’ Pearl said with a scrutinising look. ‘Is there anything you want to talk about?’ Jo shook her head. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have taken you,’ Pearl worried.

  ‘No,’ Jo assured her, ‘it’s not your fault. It’s just the pregnancy making me feel funny, that’s all.’

  She was glad her aunt did not question her further, but she could not throw off her feeling of disquiet about Gordon. She felt odd for the rest of the day and rang in sick to work. Mark came rushing round to see her, but she could not begin to tell him what preyed on her mind. She slept badly, images of Gordon’s threatening smile haunting her in the dark hours. In the morning things seemed better and her fears receded. Why should Gordon want to cause trouble between her and Mark? she reasoned. If he boasted of their affair, he would be wrecking his relationship with Barbara too. Besides, he did not know the baby was his and not Mark’s, and from his attitude she knew he would not care.

  Still, at times anxiety would seize her and spoil her anticipation of the future. It would leave her feeling sick and wretched, making her distant and preoccupied.

  Mark was baffled by her moods, but put it d
own to being pregnant. He seemed as relieved as she was when Marilyn returned from college one weekend in November to go for the dress fitting. She, Jo and Brenda had a happy day out in Newcastle, trying on the dresses, going for lunch and looking round the shops. The wedding was only a month away and Jo’s excitement grew daily. She and Mark had taken a six-month lease on a flat on Hedley Street, just off the high street. They had already started to collect pieces of equipment for the baby: a pram that had been advertised in the corner shop and a high chair from a second-hand baby shop. Jo had decided all the clothes must be new and she could not resist dragging her friends into Mothercare to browse. But Marilyn was bubbling over with her experiences at college and Jo felt a stab of envy at the freedom and challenges she was describing.

  ‘Never mind the course and the communal kitchens,’ Brenda said, tiring of the monologue. ‘What about the lads?’

  ‘Canny,’ Marilyn smirked. ‘I’ve been out with three already.’

  ‘Three? Eeh, I bet you haven’t told that to your mam!’ Brenda exclaimed.

  ‘No, and neither will you,’ Marilyn laughed.

  Eventually they headed home, Jo feeling exhausted but glad of the day out.

  At the pub that evening, Marilyn was given a royal welcome by Ted and there was a party atmosphere, until Gordon walked in. Jo got a shock, because his band were not booked to play and she knew he usually kept away from the Coach and Eight when Mark was back on leave. But now, of course, Mark was never away, so they were bound to bump into each other sometime. Jo wished anxiously that it had not been in front of her.

  ‘Look what the cat dragged in,’ Mark muttered. The two brothers scowled at each other with hardly a word exchanged.

  ‘Haven’t seen you in here for weeks, Gordon lad,’ Ted grunted at him. ‘Pint, is it?’

  ‘Aye,’ Gordon nodded, ignoring the others.

  Ted served Gordon quickly, but he hung around at the bar, making Jo feel increasingly nervous. She realised after several minutes that he was quite drunk.

  As no one else was speaking to him, Ted said, ‘So where’s the beautiful Barbara tonight?’

  Gordon grunted. ‘Not with me.’ He took a long gulp of his pint. ‘Finished with her. Wanted to get married, silly tart,’ he slurred. Jo’s heart thumped in dread, suddenly realising the danger of the situation. She tried to move off to the other end of the bar, but Gordon called her back.

  ‘So when am I getting my invite to the wedding of the year?’ he sneered.

  ‘You’re not,’ Mark said shortly and turned his back. This inflamed his brother, who pulled at Mark’s shoulder.

  ‘Don’t turn your back on me, you toe-rag! Mam thinks she’s going,’ he slurred. ‘Ever since little copperhead here went tappy-lappying round to see her. Cosy little scene I interrupted. Can’t wait to be a grandma. Isn’t that right, Jo-Jo?’

  Jo’s heart was pounding; she felt hot and cold at the same time.

  ‘Don’t speak to her like that!’ Mark rounded on him.

  ‘Mark, it doesn’t matter...’ Jo began. She exchanged a look of alarm with Marilyn, but her friend could only watch helplessly as the argument escalated in seconds.

  ‘Like what?’ Gordon said, thrusting his face at Mark’s. Mark pushed him away, but Gordon persisted, eager to rile him. ‘Like I know her too well?’ He turned and focused drunken eyes on Jo, reminding her of Matty. ‘But I do, don’t I? We’re old friends, aren’t we, Jo-Jo?’

  Mark looked furious. ‘Stay away from her,’ he threatened, grabbing Gordon by his leather jacket.

  ‘Steady, lads,’ Ted tried to calm them.

  But Gordon laughed savagely. ‘Stay away?’ he derided. ‘I couldn’t keep her off me half the summer!’

  Jo felt her head reel. Sickness and faintness gripped her. ‘Leave us alone!’ she gasped.

  ‘Right little raver, weren’t you, Jo-Jo?’ he taunted. Mark’s face changed from anger to horror as Gordon’s words sank in. He looked at Jo in disbelief. Everyone around had fallen silent. ‘All summer,’ Gordon repeated, sloshing his drink at them, ‘couldn’t get enough of me…’

  ‘Tell me it isn’t true?’ Mark rasped. ‘Jo! Say it wasn’t him!’

  She would have given anything to be able to reassure him, to stop him looking at her with that angry hurt in his eyes. But all she could do was stare back in total humiliation as Gordon shouted. ‘Aye, it was me! I had her first. She’s probably carrying my bastard, not yours!’

  A howl tore out of Mark, and in an instant he had head-butted his brother. Gordon crashed to the floor. Skippy intervened to pull Mark away as people backed off in panic, but Mark shrugged him off and turned to glare accusingly at Jo. ‘Why didn’t you tell me it was him?’ he demanded furiously. ‘You should’ve told me it was him!’

  ‘Get him out,’ Ted ordered, grim-faced. ‘I’ll deal with Gordon.’ As the landlord went round to haul Gordon to his feet, Skippy pushed Mark to the door. Jo gripped the counter to stop herself collapsing to her knees.

  Everyone was staring at her as if it was all her doing. Marilyn came to her rescue.

  ‘Jo?’ she said in concern. ‘Are you all right?’ Jo shook her head. ‘I’ll get you out of here. Brenda, you take over until I come back.’ Marilyn rushed round to support her friend and steered her into a back room. Jo crumpled onto an upturned crate and began to shake violently.

  ‘I hate him!’ she said, grinding her teeth. ‘He’s ruined everything. I should have told Mark the whole story…’ She looked agonised. ‘Why didn’t I have the courage to tell him?’ she wailed.

  ‘Gordon was drunk. Mark might just think he was winding him up,’ Marilyn said, but neither girl believed it. Grabbing Jo’s knitted jacket, she chivvied her along. ‘Come on, I’ll get you home.’

  They went for a bus, but none came, so they just kept walking until they arrived exhausted at the block of flats.

  ‘I can’t face me dad,’ Jo pleaded, her face swollen from crying.

  ‘Pearl’s then,’ Marilyn said, and bundled Jo into the lift. To their relief, Pearl was in on her own, watching TV, and saw at once her niece’s distress. Jo was almost hysterical as she tried to explain, but Pearl hushed and calmed her. She put her to bed in the tiny second bedroom, the one that, years ago, she had promised to Mark had he come to live there with his mother. Jo lay on the bed, unable to undress, feeling drained and ill. Pearl covered her with an eiderdown, and she was aware of Marilyn telling Pearl what had happened, then she must have fallen asleep. When she woke, disorientated in the dark, there was no sound of voices beyond the open door.

  Jo turned over and gasped in pain. She felt as if her insides were gripped by a vice. She wanted to scream, but no sound came. Crawling out from under the cover, she fumbled towards the door. The door to the sitting room was ajar and she glimpsed Pearl curled up asleep on the sofa. She staggered into the bathroom and switched on the light. Her image in the mirror was ghostly, gaunt and pale, her eyes ringed like a panda’s from mascara and tears.

  Images of the terrible scene in the pub rose up and tortured her: Mark’s aghast, accusing face, Gordon’s leering one. Jo covered her face in fear as pain stabbed like needles between her legs again. She crouched down on the floor, doubled up in agony. Pearl must have removed her skirt, because she saw at once what was happening. Her pants were soaked in blood.

  For a long moment, Jo stared in confusion. Then terror filled her very being.

  ‘Please God, no!’ she cried out. ‘Please don’t let me lose the baby!’ Then she started to scream like a wild animal. ‘Pearl! Oh, no, please… Auntie Pearl, help me!’

  Chapter Twelve

  By the time the ambulance came to fetch her, Jo knew the worst was happening. Pearl had tried to calm her and make her lie still on the bed, but blood was seeping everywhere. The more her stomach cramps eased, the more her womb seemed to spill out its contents onto Pearl’s pink nylon sheets. Jo squeezed her eyes tight shut and willed it all to stop, terrified of moving or looking at the me
ss.

  Of all the worries that had plagued her since discovering herself pregnant, losing the baby had never entered her head. Now fear gripped her at the thought. She realised just how much she wanted it − wanted it with a passion even if it was Gordon’s baby. She had day-dreamed of pushing a pram round the park; the pram she had already bought, and of being a mother. How she yearned to be a mother! she realised. Her life had been turned upside down: she had given up college and a teaching career for the baby, while Mark had given up his life at sea…Oh, Mark! Jo thought in an agony of guilt, remembering the furious hurt on his face that evening. What would become of them now?

  Hot tears squeezed from beneath her clenched eyelids as she thought of her fiancé. She wished that he was with her now, holding her in his comforting arms. But after the scene in the pub, he might never want to hold her again.

  She could hear Pearl speaking in a low, urgent voice to the ambulancemen. ‘She’s miscarrying. Do what you can for her, please.’

  Within minutes they had bundled her in blankets and lifted her from the bed on to a collapsible metal chair. Jo was too embarrassed to look them in the face as they wheeled her to the lift. She looked pleadingly at Pearl, frightened of going alone.

  ‘Please come with me,’ she whispered.

  ‘Of course. But what about your father?’ Pearl asked, hesitating.

  Jo shook her head in panic. ‘I can’t face him yet.’ Pearl nodded and took Jo’s hand.

  But Jack had been roused by the noise of lifts and seen the ambulance waiting outside the flats. When the grim party emerged from the opening doors, he went pale with shock. ‘What the… Joanne!’ he cried. She burst into tears and Pearl quickly explained, while Jo was manoeuvred into the ambulance.

  Pulling on his overcoat over his pyjamas, Jack jumped into the back with her. She braced herself for fretful questions, but his look was full of compassion. He sat stroking his daughter’s hair and repeating. ‘Don’t worry, your dad’s here,’ and Jo clung to him, grateful for his presence, yet full of dread at him finding out her guilty secret.