‘We are beaten daily,’ he said dispassionately. ‘They are putting the sacks over our heads to muffle the cries.’ He held up his wrists. ‘We work ten hours every day. We are making our own manacles for in the cells and we make the whips that they beat us with. That is our work.’
He went on to describe further terrible punishments, made all the more shocking by his quiet delivery of the routine and casual cruelties. The prisoners were put on half-rations and tortured with burning cigarettes, their feet lacerated with wet towels. Well-known Communists were beaten to death. When he opened his shirt to show them the welts and burn marks that scarred his body, the audience gasped in shock.
He touched his head. ‘But the worst torture is in the mind. They say we can write letters, but they do not send them. They do not give us letters from our families. They say no one writes to us because we are traitors to the Fatherland and our families hate us. We must become Nazis like them. We do not know what to think any more. Some men, they go mad. What is there to live for? They hang themselves.’
Clara reached for Reenie’s hand and held it. This man could have been Frank. It was unbearable to think of him suffering in this way. She gulped back her own tears as Reenie’s hand squeezed hers for comfort. The refugee told how he had escaped by creeping under a delivery van while the driver was bartering cigarettes with a guard and clinging on to the underside while he drove out of the camp.
They gave the refugee a standing ovation when he left the stage. Afterwards, Benny pushed his way through to speak to him, Reenie following. Had he come across their brother, Frank Leizmann? Clara could hardly keep from weeping when the man shook his head sadly and said he had not met anyone of that name. Subdued, they left the hall.
Clara tried to lift their spirits. ‘Just because he never knew Frank doesn’t mean that he’s. . .’ She hesitated.
‘Dead?’ Reenie finished for her, her eyes glittering with pain. ‘Why can no one bring themselves to say it?’
‘Because it’s too terrible,’ Clara whispered.
Benny looked at her, his dark eyes haunted. ‘Now do you believe what’s going on in Germany? Or is this all Red propaganda like your husband says?’
Clara winced, but held his look. ‘I have to believe it,’ she answered quietly. ‘I’ve seen the marks on that man’s body.’
They stood mutely, locked in their own thoughts, as the crowds around them ebbed away into the night. Clara said suddenly, ‘I don’t want to go straight home.’
They went round the corner to a cafe run by Italians that stayed open late serving hot drinks and ice cream, and ordered a pot of tea. The place was full and the atmosphere jovial. To Clara’s alarm, Lillian was there with a group of friends and they squeezed on to their table. Lillian’s look was hostile. ‘Surprised to see you here, Mrs Craven.’ She almost spat out the name.
Reenie quickly avoided embarrassment by introducing Clara to the others as a former member of the YS rambling group. Benny fell immediately to talking about the meeting, Reenie telling Lillian how they had asked the refugee about Frank.
Lillian reached across the table and touched Reenie’s arm. ‘We have to accept that Frank’s gone. We’ll go mad otherwise.’
Clara asked, ‘How can you be sure? Isn’t there the slightest possibility he’s alive?’
Lillian’s eyes narrowed as she answered in a bitter tone, ‘Frank and I were going to be married. He was to follow me back here once he’d helped his uncle. But his uncle was murdered and Frank arrested. If Frank had ever been released, he would have come home to me. Apart from that one letter he was forced to write from the camp, we’ve heard nothing.’ She looked at Clara with dislike. ‘Probably drawing attention to Frank like that was the worst possible thing,’ she accused her. ‘The Nazis had to silence him.’
It had never occurred to Clara that her actions might have put Frank in further danger. She was too guilt-ridden to speak.
After an awkward pause, Benny swiftly turned the conversation to Spain. Clara sat back and listened. It seemed a lifetime since she had been in such a place, sipping strong tea and listening to Reenie and Benny putting the world to rights. Despite Lillian’s animosity, she was glad to be there rather than at home. It was so refreshing to hear them debating; to see the women as animated as the men and the men listening to what they had to say. How trivial the conversation of her new friends was in contrast. They could talk endlessly about school uniforms, unreliable servants or the price of decorating their homes. Even the Women’s Section, which was confined to squabbles over catering for the men in the BUF, was now moribund.
It was with reluctance that Clara walked back to her car, offering Reenie and Benny a lift home to prolong her time with them. Benny was impressed she could drive.
‘But do you still walk anywhere or take the tram?’ Reenie asked.
‘No, our Clara’s too grand for that,’ Benny teased.
‘I’m not allowed—’ Clara stopped herself, blushing at her meek words.
Reenie got out of the car. ‘While the cat’s away, the mice can play,’ she said. ‘I’ve got Sunday off. Why don’t you come hiking with us?’
Clara stared in alarm. How could she manage to escape for a whole Sunday? Yet she yearned to walk in the countryside with them.
‘I’m not very fit these days,’ she said cautiously.
‘We can take it steady,’ Benny encouraged her. ‘Or you can drive your car and we’ll walk alongside — talk to you through the window.’
Clara snorted with sudden laughter. ‘I’d like to come. Let me pick you up.’
Reenie smiled. ‘Eight o’clock. Come for breakfast and let Mam fill you with pancakes.’
Clara drove home, singing to herself. She caught her breath at the sound. She had not sung a note since Sarah went away. She carried on, sobbing and singing at the top of her voice, feeling more alive than she had done in months.
Chapter 34
By the end of Vinnie’s first week away, Clara was in open defiance of Dolly and Jimmy. Dolly had her followed. ‘You lied to your own brother about visiting the Templetons. You’ve been seeing them German riff-raff,’ she said in disgust. ‘It’s got to stop.’
After Clara disappeared all day to walk with the Lewises, Dolly ordered Jimmy to confiscate the car keys.
‘He’ll not drive you up to Gilead on Saturday if you don’t toe the line,’ she threatened.
But Clara had had the best day for an age, walking along the river at Hexham, and she had promised Reenie and Benny she would do it again soon. They had made her laugh and talk more in those few hours than she had in the past year with Vinnie.
‘There’s no harm in it,’ she told her mother-in-law, ‘and you can’t stop me.’
‘We’ll see about that,’ Dolly said.
Clara continued to visit the Lewises, taking the tram into town on her own. Dolly retaliated by refusing to give Clara any of the allowance Vinnie had left for his mother to dole out to Clara when she needed it. Patience was hauled up to Gosforth to have words with her daughter.
‘Please, Clara, just do as they ask. I couldn’t cope if we had to go back to the way we lived before. If Vinnie threw you out—’
‘Don’t be daft,’ Clara cried, ‘he’s never going to do that. He prides himself on our model marriage,’ she said in self-mockery. ‘It’s good for his image. All he needs is the blond, blue-eyed children.’
‘You mustn’t speak like that.’ Patience was shocked at her bitter tone. ‘I thought you were happy with Vinnie.’
Clara glanced away. She could not explain how this brief separation had made her see things quite differently.
‘Don’t do anything rash,’ Patience fretted. ‘He’ll take it out on us somehow. I’ll lose my job, or Jimmy’ll get the sack.’
Clara looked at her mother more closely. When had she grown so thin and drawn-faced? She heard the fear in her mother’s voice and recognised it. Vinnie might as well have been there in the room with them; even the thoug
ht of him cowed them both. Clara went and held her mother.
‘I’ll look after you, I promise.’
It was only when Clarkie was summoned to talk to her that Clara realised the trouble she was in. Dressed in Blackshirt uniform, Vinnie s right-hand man ushered her into the sitting room as if he owned the place and told the others to leave.
‘Sit down, Mrs Craven,’ he smiled. When she continued to stand, he settled himself into Vinnie’s armchair by the marble fireplace. He got straight to the point.
‘Don’t want the boss to hear of you fraternising with the enemy, do you, Mrs Craven? He’d be right upset. And you’d hate something to happen to the Lewises because of it, wouldn’t you?’
Clara was shocked. ‘Like what? Their shop smashed up and Benny put in hospital again?’
‘Now that’s just being hysterical,’ he said, as if speaking to a child. ‘Vinnie would never allow some’at like that, would he?’
Clara glared at Clarkie as he lolled in his boss’s chair, quite at ease. He was mocking her and trying to scare her with threats against the Lewises. It made her almost certain he must have had something to do with the original attack. The thought sickened her.
‘Get out of Vinnie’s chair,’ she told him. ‘I’ll not be bullied by the likes of you.’
‘Temper, temper,’ he goaded, getting up slowly and sauntering towards her. He swept her with a predatory look, the sort she used to see in Vinnie’s eyes. ‘Remember you weren’t always so high and mighty. Harry Magee was a drunk and a laughing stock. If you hadn’t been so bonny — and willing,’ he mocked, ‘you Magees would be in the poorhouse.’
Clara gasped in shock. She raised her hand to slap his insolent face, but Clarkie caught it and gripped her hard.
‘Don’t think you’re any better than me,’ he hissed. ‘We all have our price, Mrs Craven. You gave Vinnie what he wanted, just like we all do — if we know which side our bread’s buttered. But cross him, and you could be back in the gutter the morra.’
Clara struggled to release his iron grip. ‘How dare you! We were never in the gutter!’
Clarkie smiled to see her riled. ‘You don’t know how close you were, Mrs Craven,’ he sneered.
‘What do you mean by that?’ she demanded.
‘Vinnie’s like God over us. We do what he asks and he looks after us. Your job is to be a good wife and give him bairns. My job is to protect him — even from his nearest and dearest, if I think they’re harming him. And I’ll gan to any lengths to do it.’
He released her hand and walked out of the room. She stood rubbing the red finger marks on her wrist, gulping for breath. Clarkie was a ruthless bully and he frightened her. But it was Vinnie who gave the orders. Clarkie would never have spoken to her so brutally if he had not been sure that Vinnie would back him up. The thought made her blood run cold. She dreaded her husband’s return.
Badly shaken, Clara sought out Jimmy. ‘Run me into town. I’m supposed to be meeting Reenie today. I need to explain that I can’t go round to hers anymore.’
Reluctantly he agreed. ‘This is the last time, mind.’
When she explained to her friend in the cafe, Reenie laughed in disbelief. ‘Don’t be so dramatic.’
‘I’m serious. I’m being watched all the time.’ She glanced around nervously. ‘One of Vinnie’s bully boys has threatened me about seeing your family. I don’t want to bring trouble to your door again.’
Reenie grabbed her arm. ‘What sort of people are you mixed up with, Clara?’ she cried. ‘You can’t let them rule your life like this.’
‘It’s not just a matter of my life,’ Clara said unhappily, ‘it’s Mam and Jimmy too. I’m scared. I have to be more careful. We can still meet up in town now and again.’
Reenie shook her head in bewilderment. ‘How did it ever come to this? You of all people, Clara. You used to stand up to anyone.’
Clara’s head sagged. ‘It’s been different ever since having Sarah,’ she admitted painfully. ‘I lost all my confidence. I should have taken care of her, but I wasn’t up to it. It pulled the rug from under my feet good and proper. I haven’t got the fight to take on Vinnie.’
Reenie sighed and gave her a hug. ‘I wish I could help more.’
‘You have.’ Clara smiled. ‘Just knowing you’re my friend again means that much. I don’t feel so alone anymore.’
‘Oh, Clara, I’ve missed our being friends! I wish you and Benny could’ve . . .’
Clara glanced away. Reenie said more briskly, ‘You need something to take your mind off your troubles, something you can really care about. Why don’t you start writing again?’
Clara returned her look. ‘I did think about it, but Vinnie wouldn’t let me.’
Reenie let out an impatient breath. ‘I’m sick of hearing you say that; you’re like a stuck gramophone record! Write something and send it to Jellicoe.’
Before they parted, both agreed they would meet at the Italian cafe once a week on a Saturday morning when Clara went into town to have her hair done. If Reenie was working she would leave a message there.
Clara had a sleepless night, turning over Reenie’s words. In the early hours she got up, went to her dressing table and pulled out her old diary for 1934. She had stopped writing it after Sarah’s birth and she tore out some empty pages. She began to write about the meeting at the City Hall, describing the moving testament of the German refugee. The words came pouring out as if the article was writing itself. Tired at last, Clara shoved it in a drawer and went to bed.
When she awoke, Clara’s first thought was to tear up the article and throw it on the fire. But having reread it, she decided to write it up neatly, addressed it to Jellicoe and pushed it into her pocket.
‘I’m going for a walk round the block,’ she told Jimmy. ‘You can follow me like a spy if you want.’
He flushed. ‘If you’re more than half an hour, I’m coming looking for you,’ he said and skulked back into the kitchen.
Clara posted the letter in the pillar box two streets away before her nerve failed. She had asked Jellicoe not to use her name, but even so was shaken with nerves at the thought of Vinnie finding out.
Three days before Vinnie’s return, Dolly walked into her bedroom waving a letter.
‘What you been sending that editor?’ she demanded.
Clara’s heart thumped. ‘You’ve been opening my mail!’ She dashed forward and snatched the letter.
Dolly sneered. ‘He doesn’t want it, anyway.’
Clara read the stark letter of rejection. There was no personal message. It could have come from a complete stranger. She felt a wave of disappointment.
‘Not surprised,’ Dolly said. ‘My Vinnie’s told him he’s not to give you any work.’
Clara’s jaw dropped open. ‘He can’t tell Jellicoe what to do.’
Dolly snorted, ‘Course he can. Why do you think that man gave you a job in the first place? Only ’cos my Vinnie asked him to — said he’d pay well for advertising the boxing if he took you on full time. Don’t you remember getting a pay rise for doing nothing?’
Clara’s head reeled. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she gasped.
Dolly laughed. ‘Do you really think a proper newspaper would have taken on a lass like you without any training if Vinnie hadn’t given them a back-hander? More fool you,’ she said and walked out.
***
The day before Vinnie came home, Jimmy drove Clara and Patience up to Gilead to see Sarah. It was raining, so they sat with her in the chapel, Sarah’s shrieks echoing around the vaulted ceiling. Patience made attempts to chatter, but soon lapsed into silence. On the way back to the ward, they passed the imposing stone-built swimming baths.
‘Let’s have a nose in,’ Patience suggested.
But the doors were locked. On returning to the children’s wing, Clara asked the matron about the hydrotherapy Sarah had been promised.
‘The Board can’t afford it,’ she said. ‘The pool was built before the Great War
— money was no object then. We do our best for the inmates,’ she said stiffly, ‘within our limited means.’
‘Of course you do,’ Clara said quickly, not meaning to criticise. But she left feeling more depressed than before. She hated the way Sarah had been referred to as an inmate, as if she were imprisoned. But then, that’s what it amounted to. Her daughter was hidden away behind locked doors. Clara sat in the back of the Austin, holding her mother’s hand. Her life was as proscribed as Sarah’s was. She tried to stem the panic that welled up inside at the thought of Vinnie’s return. Her brief taste of freedom was over.
Chapter 35
At first Vinnie would not believe that Clara had been seeing the Lewises again. But Dolly was quick to ruin his homecoming with tales of Clara’s misdeeds.
‘Bare-faced lies she told us. You’ll have to have words with her,’ Dolly nagged. ‘She wouldn’t be stopped.’
Vinnie s retribution was swift. Jimmy was banished back to Patience’s for allowing Clara to drive the car and demoted to car minding outside Craven Hall.
‘If you need to gan out anywhere, Clarkie will drive you,’ Vinnie commanded.
‘Not him!’ Clara protested.
‘It’s for your own protection,’ Vinnie told her. ‘We’ve had death threats at the BUF and you’ve shown you can’t be trusted on your own.’ There was a new contempt in his voice that really frightened Clara.
He demanded to know the contents of the article she had sent to Jellicoe. Clara, thinking he would find out anyway, told him the truth. Vinnie went white with fury.
‘Not only did you go to a Bolshie meeting, but you tried to get it in the papers!’ he fumed. ‘Are you trying to ruin me, you stupid little bitch?’
Clara recoiled. He had never sworn at her before. She wanted to tell him about the German refugee but knew he was beyond listening.
Vinnie stood over her. ‘From now on, you do as I say. I’ll not have my wife making a fool of me.’ His look was hard, calculating. ‘Don’t make me regret weddin’ you, Clara.’
A HANDFUL OF STARS An enthralling story of poverty, passion and survival: one of the Tyneside Sagas Page 37