‘Morning, Mrs Craven,’ she smiled.
‘Clara,’ Mrs Craven rasped in her gravelly voice. ‘Thought you’d forgotten us, or got too grand to be seen round here.’ She winked to show she was teasing, before taking a long draw on her cigarette.
‘Too busy in the shop more like,’ Clara replied.
Dolly Craven coughed. ‘How are your mam and dad? Jimmy tells me nothing — dashes through here like a train — he’s that keen to see the boxing.’
‘Both grand,’ Clara said. ‘Looking forward to the wedding tomorrow. Mam’s had her outfit bought for weeks.’
‘I’ll see you all there then — chance to have a good natter,’ Dolly said, picking a flake of tobacco off the tip of her tongue.
‘Oh, me and Jimmy aren’t ganin’. We’re off down the beach with Reenie.’
Dolly squinted at her through a cloud of smoke. ‘Reenie Lewis?’
‘Aye.’
Dolly flicked ash in the direction of the gym door. ‘Her brother’s in there. Hasn’t been down for years. But Danny’s that popular.’
‘Benny’s here?’ Clara asked in surprise. ‘Didn’t know he boxed.’
She could feel herself colouring under the older woman’s scrutiny. ‘Like him, do you?’ Dolly chuckled as Clara denied it. ‘Anyway, it’s not that little tearaway. The other one.’
‘Frank?’ Clara exclaimed.
‘Don’t sound so surprised. Has a handy pair of fists on him. My Stan used to say he’d make a champion flyweight one day. Gave it up just to play his fiddle and cut lads’ hair. Crying waste if you ask me. You can make a good living at the boxing if you’ve brains as well as brawn - like my Stan and Vinnie. But some lads won’t be told.’
Clara was amazed. Reenie had never talked about Frank being a boxer, but maybe it had been before they had become good friends.
‘Is Jimmy inside?’ she asked quickly. ‘I’ve come to get him.’
Dolly nodded. ‘Not that you’ll be able to drag him away until Danny Watts goes for his dinner.’ She laughed throatily.
It was crowded in the hall. A few young men were hammering punchbags in the corner, but most of them had gathered to watch local hero Watts, sparring in the ring with a training partner. She caught sight of Jimmy standing on a stool next to Frank, their heads close together as Frank made some comment and Jimmy nodded in agreement.
As she moved towards them, Frank looked round at the swinging door and smiled at the sight of her. Clara’s stomach somersaulted. She swallowed and gave a small wave. He beckoned her over. Clara wished she had taken more care over her appearance before coming out, brushed her hair at least. It was stuffy in the hall; she took off her jacket as she crossed the room.
‘Hello, Clara,’ Frank said, making room for her beside them. His tousled hair was still wet from the morning downpour, his chin newly shaven, smelling of soap.
‘I’m not ganin’ home,’ Jimmy said at once. ‘Not till training’s finished.’
Frank grinned at Clara. ‘Won’t be long,’ he assured her.
She nodded, ridiculously tongue-tied. They were standing so close she could feel his shirt sleeve brushing her bare arm, the warmth of him. She gulped and slid him a look.
‘Didn’t know you liked boxing,’ she said.
‘I don’t.’ He smiled, his vivid blue eyes appraising her.
Clara blushed. ‘Mrs Craven said you used to be a canny boxer - could’ve been a champion.’
Frank laughed. ‘She spins a good tale. I used to box a bit, kept myself fit in case there was any bother, but that was all.’
‘Any bother?’ Clara queried.
His face tightened. ‘After the War. Some folks picked on the likes of me parents — for being German. I reckoned learning to use me fists might stop the number of bricks that got hoyed through our shop window on a Saturday night.’
‘That’s terrible. Rennie never said anything.’
‘Hasn’t happened since we moved to Byfell,’ Frank said quietly.
Clara observed him. ‘Still don’t see you as the fighting kind.’
His smile returned quickly. ‘I’m not. But I’ve learned to defend myself.’
Clara could not help noticing the broadness of his chest under the open-necked shirt, the muscular arms. She had never stood this close to him before. She felt almost sick, her heart was banging so fast. She forced herself to look away.
‘So why are you down here the day?’ she asked.
‘Come to see Watts like everyone else — he was me hero when I was a lad.’
Clara forced herself to ask, ‘Will you be playing at the Cairo the morra?’
Jimmy turned round and shushed her. ‘Stop asking questions, our Clara, and let Frank watch.’
Clara blushed deeper. ‘Sorry. I’m always doing that,’ she laughed.
Frank smiled and leaned closer, whispering in her ear, ‘I don’t mind. And yes, I’m playing at the Cairo tomorrow.’
She grinned back, hoping he could not feel her heart knocking in her chest like a hammer. She turned and tried to concentrate on the sparring match, all the time acutely aware of Frank beside her and the tingling sensation left by his lips where they had brushed close to her ear. In front, on his stool, Jimmy was yelling and cheering as loudly as the older boys around him.
Soon it was over and Watts was stepping out of the ring, swamped by young fans who wanted to speak to him. Jimmy hung about on the fringe, ignoring Clara’s attempts to get him to leave.
‘I’ll walk back up the road with you,’ Frank offered. ‘If you come now Jimmy, I’ll let you try on me boxing gloves.’
‘Can I?’ he asked in excitement.
Frank nodded. Coming out of the gym into the foyer again, they ran straight into Vinnie Craven. The boxing hall owner was immaculately dressed in a navy blue suit and stiff collar and tie, with spats above his shiny shoes. His dark hair and thin moustache were well groomed. He was shaking the rain off his trilby hat.
‘Frank, man,’ Vinnie greeted him with a clap on his shoulder. ‘Good to see yer. You all right?’
Frank shook his hand. ‘Aye, canny.’
‘Jimmy lad,’ Vinnie grinned and gave the boy a friendly jab, ‘you picking up some tips from Danny, eh?’
Jimmy nodded and grinned back. ‘I want to stay but me sister says I have to gan home.’
Vinnie pretended to look shocked. He winked at Clara. ‘What a cruel sister you have. Pretty but cruel. We can’t have you leaving without a word with the great man. Haway, and I’ll introduce you. A few minutes won’t hurt, eh, Clara?’
Clara tried to protest. ‘We have to get back for dinner.’
‘It’s raining cats and dogs out there — you’ll get a drenching,’ Vinnie persisted. ‘Tell you what; let Jimmy have a word with Danny and then I’ll run you back in the car. How about that?’
‘Oh, canny!’ cried Jimmy. But Vinnie’s dark eyes were watching Clara, waiting for her agreement.
She nodded, at once excited by the thought of driving through Byfell in a motor car.
‘Grand.’ Vinnie smiled and touched her cheek with casual intimacy. ‘Come with me.’
As he led them back inside the hall, Frank stepped away. ‘Ta-ra then.’ He nodded in farewell. Clara stopped in dismay. She had assumed he would stay too.
‘Aye, ta-ra, Frank.’ Vinnie waved him on as he held the door open for Clara and Jimmy. ‘You’re welcome down here any time.’
Jimmy seemed to have instantly forgotten Frank’s offer of the boxing gloves and was dashing back into the hall without a backward glance. Clara gave Frank a look of apology. He smiled briefly and turned away. Vinnie let the door swing shut and Frank was gone.
Vinnie steered her by the elbow and a moment later both she and Jimmy were being introduced to Danny Watts as Harry Magee’s daughter and son. Danny greeted them kindly. As Jimmy was just standing there in bashful awe, Clara gabbled a good luck for his forthcoming wedding. Then Vinnie was guiding them both away, promising the boxer he would
be back in a few minutes.
Dolly watched in surprise as Vinnie took them out to the car. Clara waved goodbye. It was raining lightly, nothing more, and Clara wondered if the promoter simply liked showing off his car and giving lifts. She did not care, for she was as eager as Jimmy to ride in the Albion. Vinnie held the back door open.
‘You hop in there, bonny lad,’ he told Jimmy. ‘Clara can sit up front with me like a proper lady.’
She felt a ridiculous thrill at his words and the way he held open the door for her with a flourish. She sank on to the soft leather seat, inhaling its expensive smell. There was something else mixed with the leather; Anzora Viola - Vinnie’s hair oil. Her stomach fluttered. Soon he was sitting beside her and starting up the car. Jimmy perched excitedly on the edge of his seat, peering over Clara’s shoulder.
‘It’s just like it is at the pictures,’ Clara blurted out as they picked up speed along the street. ‘All them big cars in London on Pathe News. Eh, I wish Reenie was here an’ all!’
‘Who’s Reenie?’ Vinnie asked in amusement.
‘Me best friend,’ Clara said. ‘Frank Lewis’s sister.’
Just as she said his name, they passed Frank strolling up the street, hands in pockets, collar turned up against the rain. Clara felt a pang of regret and wondered if Vinnie would stop for him. But he just tooted and waved as they sped by.
‘So what do you and Reenie like to do — go dancing?’ Vinnie asked.
Clara laughed self-consciously. ‘Not much chance of that.’
Vinnie glanced at her and for a brief moment put out a hand and touched her knee. ‘We’ll have to change that,’ he declared. ‘Why don’t you bring your friend Reenie along to the wedding party tomorrow? We’re holding it at our place and we’ve hired a band.’
Clara said hastily, ‘Oh, no, we’re not invited to the wedding.’
‘Not invited? Course you’re invited,’ Vinnie cried. ‘I’ve just invited yer.’
‘But me and Jimmy are ganin’ to Whitley Bay with Reenie — it’s all planned,’ Clara explained.
Vinnie laughed. ‘You can go to Whitley any day of the week — it’s not every day you get the chance to go to a posh wedding and dance, is it? And there’ll be plenty for you to eat, Jimmy. We need to fatten you up if you want to be one of me fighters, eh? What’s your favourite food, lad?’
‘Yorkshire puddin’,’Jimmy answered.
‘There’ll be puddings the size of dinner plates.’
‘And will I get to speak to Danny again?’ Jimmy asked eagerly.
‘Speak to him?’ Vinnie laughed. ‘You’ll sit at his table — I’ll make sure you do.’
‘Oh, champion!’ Jimmy cried.
‘No,’ Clara said stubbornly, ‘you can’t. It’s Mam and Dad are invited, not us. They want me to keep you out of harm’s way, Jimmy. That’s kind of you, Mr Craven, but it’s all been arranged.’
Vinnie drove into Tenter Terrace saying nothing and Clara worried she had caused offence. She was rather in awe of him; he was so much older and sophisticated in his expensive clothes. It made her uncomfortable the way he had touched her knee. He pulled up at the kerb outside the shop, turned off the engine and got out. Clara sat there wondering what to do.
‘Spoilsport,’ Jimmy muttered from behind. ‘I want to gan to the weddin’.’
‘You were happy with the beach till two minutes ago,’ Clara replied.
Vinnie was swiftly round to her side and opening the door. She stepped out, aware of him watching her.
‘Ta, Mr Craven, and sorry, you know —’ she said, feeling awkward. ‘It’s just—’
He put a hand on her arm. ‘No need to feel sorry.’ He smiled. ‘I like a lass who knows her own mind.’
She met his gaze. He had very dark eyes. His look was lively, knowing. This was a man who knew about life. She felt a small shiver. Was it excitement or fear that a man of his age should look at her like that, as if she were grown up? Then he stood aside and turned his attention to Jimmy.
‘Never mind, bonny lad.’ He patted his head. ‘You come down the hall any time you want. How about I save a couple of seats for you and your dad at the match next Saturday?’
‘Really?’ Jimmy gasped. Vinnie nodded. ‘Oh, ta very much, Mr Craven. That’d be grand.’
‘Done!’ Vinnie laughed and pushed Jimmy towards his sister.
Just as Clara turned to make for their front door, she saw the strange man. He was standing across the street, trying to shelter in a shop doorway, watching them. She stopped, catching her breath.
‘What’s wrong?’ Vinnie asked at once, following her look.
‘Nothing,’ Clara said quickly.
‘Is it that man?’ he demanded. ‘Do you know him?’
‘No, it’s just — he’s been hanging around here — came in the shop,’ she stuttered.
Jimmy laughed. ‘It’s that Mr Odd-Body again.’
‘He been bothering you?’ Vinnie asked.
The man stepped away from the sheltering porch towards them, raising a hand.
‘He’s coming over here,’ Clara said in alarm.
Vinnie grabbed both her and Jimmy by the arm. ‘Get yourselves indoors out of the rain — I’ll sort him out.’ Clara hesitated. ‘Go on, lass, look after your brother.’
Clara hurried to the door with Jimmy and bundled him inside. She shut the door and they clattered up the stairs to the first floor, running to the sitting-room window to peer out. Patience looked up from reading the newspaper, startled. Jimmy gabbled about the funny man.
‘Mr Craven’s ganin’ to sort him out,’ he cried with glee.
Patience hurried over too, calling to Harry to come out of the kitchen and look. Vinnie was standing in the middle of the street confronting the stranger with a jabbing finger. The man had his hands half raised in a defensive gesture.
‘Just some silly drunk,’ Patience said dismissively.
‘He’s not a drunk,’ Clara protested.
‘How would you know?’ Patience asked.
‘Cos he’s been in the shop,’ Clara confessed.
‘Who has?’ Harry asked, joining them, his face red from cooking in the small hot kitchen.
They pointed out of the window at the confrontation in the street. The old man was standing his ground, arguing back. Vinnie pushed him backwards with the flat of his hands, his voice raised.
‘Looks harmless enough,’ Harry said. ‘What did he want in the shop?’
Clara shrugged, uneasy at the memory. ‘Just asked me what I was called. Didn’t stop to buy anything. I pretended you were in the back — so then he asked to speak to you.’
‘Me?’ Harry demanded.
‘Aye, but luckily Mrs Shaw came in and he scarpered.’
‘Did he say anything else?’
Clara shook her head. ‘Seemed to have difficulty speaking — like he was foreign or something.’
Harry gave her a sharp look. ‘Come away from the window,’ he instructed. ‘Vinnie’s dealing with it. Probably just a beggar.’
‘So you don’t know him?’ Clara asked. ‘Thought maybe it was someone you knew from the Navy who was down on his luck.’
Just at that moment, the old man looked up and saw them staring at him from the window. Patience gave a small gasp, her hand flying to her mouth. Vinnie shoved the man backwards. Caught off guard, he staggered and fell. Vinnie stood over him, but the man scrambled to his feet. He glanced up again, then turned and hurried away.
‘I said come away,’ Harry said more sharply. ‘It’s a fuss about nothing.’
Patience put out a hand, saying tensely, ‘Harry, go and speak to Vincent. Find out what he said.’
Clara was struck by the look that passed between them. Did they know something about this man? Harry left the room without another word and hurried downstairs. Clara wanted to see what he said to Vinnie but her mother stopped her.
‘Do as your father says,’ she said. ‘And the table needs setting.’
The table
was set and the plates of food served up ready on the table before Harry returned upstairs. Patience shot him a look. He shook his head.
‘It was nothing, just like I said.’ He sat down. Patience let out a sigh of relief.
‘Then why did you take so long?’ Clara asked.
He gave her a sharp look, then smiled quickly. ‘Talking about the wedding, my bonny, that’s all.’
‘Mr Craven invited us too,’ Jimmy piped up, ‘but Clara said no.’
‘Did he?’ Patience said in astonishment.
‘He didn’t really mean it,’ Clara was dismissive.
‘Yes he did,’ Jimmy contradicted her. ‘Promised there’d be big Yorkshire puddings and I’d get to sit with Danny Watts and Clara could dance and Reenie could come.’
Patience laughed. ‘Goodness me, what a lot of promises!’
‘It’s all true!’
‘Sounds like a good idea to me,’ Harry said abruptly.
They all stared at him.
‘Harry?’ Patience laughed in disbelief. ‘Clara wants to go to the seaside with Reenie.’
‘It might not be safe,’ he said, ‘and we don’t know what they’ll get up to. Whitley will be packed with strangers from miles around — and they might lose Jimmy in the crowds.’
‘Dad! Course we won’t,’ Clara protested.
Harry cut her off. ‘No, no. Two lasses and a bairn on their own.’
‘We won’t be on our own — Benny’s ganin’ too and he’s no bairn.’ Clara put down her knife and fork.
‘Benny?’ Patience echoed. ‘You never said he was going. He’s as daft as a brush.’
‘That’s settled then,’ Harry decreed. ‘You’re both coming to the wedding.’
‘But what about Reenie?’ Clara asked in dismay.
‘If Vinnie’s invited her then she can come too,’ Harry answered.
Clara pushed away her plate in annoyance.
‘And don’t give me that sulky lip,’ Harry reproved her. ‘It’s for your own good.’
A HANDFUL OF STARS An enthralling story of poverty, passion and survival: one of the Tyneside Sagas Page 3