Unbroken

By Gail Barron

Some ties are so strong, they can't be broken...
How much of life depends on luck, on chance encounters, even on your genetic make-up? And when things start to go wrong, who can you rely on?
This thrilling debut, set in Edinburgh and Newcastle, spans several decades and is a fast-paced, heart-warming story of love and loss.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gail Barron
• Release date: Nov 27, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310788277

Book preview

Unbroken

by Gail Barron

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 Gail Barron

PART ONE

Chapter One

The bright autumn sun was low in the western sky and she shielded her eyes from its dazzling rays as she left the doctor's surgery. She looked around in despair as she walked slowly down the litter strewn concrete ramp towards the road. The surgery was adjacent to a run-down shopping centre situated right in the middle of a 1960s’ council housing estate. The cheaply constructed shops had not weathered the last 25 years very well at all. Orange runnels of rusty water stained the pock-marked grey slabs of concrete which housed the shops.

Most of these were empty and boarded up now; only three remained – a Post Office/greetings card shop, a small Kwik-Save supermarket and the betting shop. The latter of these, the 'bookies', did by far the briskest business. All of the shop windows were covered over with rusty security wire giving it a look of a prison block. It was a depressing sight and did little to lift her low spirits as she walked on with head down and stooped shoulders. Even the brilliant sunshine could not cheer her as the news she had just received weighed heavily on her mind.

Further on she passed another ugly building, 'The Runnymede', which had a boxy, featureless exterior that didn't improve at all on passing through the battered red painted door. The pub, which was referred to locally as 'The Mede', along with the Bookies, was kept busy in the daytime now, as well as the evenings. Men who would normally have been working were now unemployed and at a loose end. They were unaccustomed to having so much spare time after years of full time working. The majority of their time and money was spent on drinking and betting as there was little to look forward to in their bleak future.

Desolation had swept over the area like smoke from a funeral pyre. Unemployment had soared in the wake of the Thatcher Government's butchery of industry, both in the public and private sectors. As casualties of redundancy rose, many skilled workers had been forced to leave their families and homes in search of work. Those who did leave often ended up in poorly paid, unskilled jobs that barely covered the cost of living away from home. These moves were mostly counter-productive as any extra cash was needed to travel back home to see their loved ones. Unfortunately, she had seen first-hand how unemployment could rip a family apart.

Her friend Julie had told her that after a few months of her husband going to work in London, his visits back home become less frequent. It became more and more difficult to maintain any semblance of family life. Tragically she had seen Julie's family break apart even though their marriage had been solid before her husband lost his job. Julie was not the only casualty of unemployment that she knew of personally, but despite this she didn't always feel lucky to have her own man at home.

It seemed ironic that her husband was still here when she probably would have welcomed the split at the moment. Her marriage was hanging by a thread as the arguments, mainly about money, were just about a daily occurrence. She couldn't bear to see the way Dave was sinking lower and lower into a state of apathy. She tried to be positive and encouraging, but despite this he just couldn't seem to shake off the feeling of hopelessness after losing his job.

These days, Dave spent far too much time and money wallowing in self-pity in the Mede while she tried to hold their small family together. The alcohol never improved his temper either; most nights she felt like she was treading on eggshells. Each night she waited on tenterhooks, until he passed out into a drunken sleep, snoring like a pig and smelling like a brewery, then she could breathe a sigh of relief. Things were no better the morning after as, hung-over and grumpy, he would be unwilling to discuss their problems. Whenever she tried to talk to him it inevitably ended up in a huge argument and he would storm out to the Mede taking the last of their money with him.

She was startled from her thoughts by someone shouting 'Hello' to her from the other side of the road. Old Mr Bruce was walking with his ancient, grizzled terrier Jess across the balding, dried out grass towards her. The little dog had rheumy eyes, which looked sadly up at her, and a wiry black coat now streaked with grey.

You were miles away, he said in a quavery, thin voice. Penny for your thoughts, he added with a twinkle in his faded blue eyes.

They're not even worth that, she joked half-heartedly and tried to smile through her gloomy mood. Anyway how are you doing? Are your knees still bothering you? she asked to deflect the attention from herself in case he should notice her misery. Aye, still giving me gyp, but there are many far worse off than me, so I'm not complaining.

I know you're not a moaner, but you should let others help instead of being so stubborn. I could walk Jess a few times every week, especially with the cold weather coming.

No lass, I like to get out and about whenever I can; it makes me feel better than being indoors. I would go stir crazy if I couldn't get out and there will come a day when that's the case, but for now I look forward to my walks.

Well the offer is there if you ever need it and I'm sure Elaine would help out too. How is she, by the way?

Aye, she's grand, she has another bairn on the way – did you know?

No that's great news, that will be four now. They should keep you on your toes, never mind walking the dog!

Then with a cheery smile to take the edge off her voice she said, I have to get off now, it's nearly three o'clock; Clare will be coming out of nursery school soon. You take care now and say Hi to Elaine for me when you next see her. He gave her an oddly military half-salute, half-wave as they parted company, then she watched him and his old dog limp along the road, around the corner and out of sight. Tom was the father of her old school pal Elaine – a hint of a smile briefly flitted across her face as she remembered the things they used to get up to together as youngsters. Those were the days, she mused when she had nothing to worry about except the occasional spot on her chin and whether or not some boy she fancied would ever look her way.

Those days seemed a million years ago – but in reality it was only nine years since she had left high school at the age of sixteen. Most of her friends were still in the area, also married and with kids, but she saw little of them. Looking back she had to admit to herself that it was her own fault that she had lost contact with most of them. It had happened gradually soon after she had first started going out with Dave. She had dropped her friends one by one, until she eventually realised that she had no one left. In retrospect she could see that it was probably due to Dave's possessiveness and jealousy – he didn't like any of her pals, in fact he even seemed to resent the time she spent with her family.

She had been very close to her Aunt Mary when growing up and regularly stayed there if her own parents were having a night out. But then Mary had moved to Newcastle because of her husband’s job two years ago. She had missed her terribly in the beginning and when Mary first moved there were many invitations to go and visit her new home. These had gradually died off until the only contact between the two women now was Christmas and birthday cards. She would have liked to take the trip down to Newcastle but there never seemed the right time or, more recently, no spare cash for holidays. In hindsight, she should have made more of an effort to maintain her independence and now she wished to God she had. It would be great to be able to confide in someone she trusted about her problems, especially this news she had just been given – which seemed to be the very last thing her marriage needed right now.

She trudged up the hill, flanked on each side by run-down, uncared for houses and the weight of the world appeared to rest upon her bowed shoulders. Like ants, she and the other mothers gradually converged in a ragged line, making their way from other parts of the estate, all heading in one direction – the school. She nodded 'Hi' to someone she knew but wasn't in the mood to strike up a conversation with anyone today. She reached the school gates which were made up of white, diagonal planks of wood and there she waited, standing to one side, apart from the scattered, chattering groups. The sound of the women reminded her of clucking hens in a farmyard; some were tutting and moaning to each other, whereas others were laughing at a joke – the punchline brought about much screeching and cackling which seemed to tear right into her nerves. Her mind was going around and around in circles as she struggled to come to terms with what the doctor had just told her – she was pregnant again.

She already knew that another baby was on the way but the doctor’s test had turned the fear into reality. Missed periods and an undeniable rounded belly, which at five months on her slim frame was noticeable now. In retrospect, she realised that a bout of gastroenteritis just after her birthday must have been responsible. The sickness had made her throw up most of what she had eaten for nearly three days, including her contraceptive pill, she guessed. She had continued taking her Pill until she finally had to admit to herself that she might be pregnant. This had worried her a lot in case taking the Pill had damaged the baby, but the doctor had assured her it was probably OK. He told her, matter of factly, with no sympathy in his voice whatsoever, that there was nothing they could do about it now anyway. He seemed genuinely irritated that he had to deal with people who could not appear to take control of their own lives.

What rotten luck she thought to fall pregnant now when money was so tight. It was ironic really as their sex life was almost non-existent these days. Sex was definitely not high up on the agenda, what with all the arguing and tension. However, she had discovered that it was a useful way to get Dave to calm down when he was in a drunken temper and he inevitably dropped off to sleep immediately afterwards.

She cursed her bad luck again as an extra mouth to feed was the very last thing they needed. Also, the additional strain on their already shaky marriage might push them to breaking point. She already had enough on her plate trying to shield their young daughter Clare from the worst of Dave's temper. She always tried to make sure that the little girl was in bed early and, luckily, Clare was a very sound sleeper and nothing, save an earthquake, would disturb her. Clare was a naturally happy and outgoing little girl and, at the moment, it seemed that she was the only ray of sunshine in her mother's otherwise miserable, colourless life. She thanked her lucky stars that Clare was still too young, at four years, to see what was really happening at home. It hadn't always been like this as she remembered back to when Clare was born. She recalled how Dave, once he had gotten over the initial shock, had been a great husband to her during that pregnancy.

Dave had treated her like a queen then and couldn't do enough for her –nothing was too much trouble. She remembered one night he had gone out in a terrible snow storm to buy ice cream from the corner shop just to satisfy her craving. He had looked after her well, making sure she never lifted anything heavy, cooking her healthy meals and generally spoiling her. When the baby arrived he had been the proudest father as he showed off his little princess to the world. Things had been better back then and she had always felt that their small family was strong – it didn't matter if she had no close friends and her family weren't always made to feel welcome. She had a husband who adored her and the most gorgeous little girl in the whole world. Life had been good and, even though they didn't have much money to spare for treats and the like, they were happy.

The rot had started to set in when Dave lost his job at the local bottling factory where they produced all sorts of non-alcoholic, fizzy drinks. He had escaped the first wave of redundancies and they had breathed a big sigh of relief. However, six months later a letter was handed over with his weekly wages – they were both stunned to read that the factory was now closing down completely. It was a massive blow to the Scottish economy as thousands of jobs would be lost – in the plant itself, retailing and with the distribution of the drinks. At a local level, it was a devastating to many people on the estate who relied upon the factory as their only source of income. Many local men and quite a few women had worked there all their lives. Dave had started the job at sixteen as soon as he had left school. Barely scraping through his final exams, he had come away with only three CSEs. He had held no hopes of a high flying career and considered himself lucky to have landed the unskilled job at all.

The pay was poor in 1974 when he first started, well below the national average of £85 per week, but enough to keep a single lad, who lived at home, in beer money. He had never been very ambitious and settled into the life quickly without looking to the future much beyond where he would go to drink the following Friday night. He only gave his mum £10 a week board which meant that the rest of his wage was his own. Dave was very particular about his appearance, he always looked clean and smart – this was one of the things that had caught her eye all those years ago. He had startling blue eyes and auburn hair with a natural wave to it. His striking good looks made him popular with all the girls and he had a cheeky, flirty way of talking to females. Women of all ages responded to it – from toddlers to pensioners, Dave could charm them all. He loved the attention and always had a different girl at his side every time she'd seen him around the estate.

Dave was two years older than her; he seemed much more worldly with his trendy clothes and his air of confidence. She couldn't believe her luck when he finally turned his attention to her. It happened during the long, hot summer of 1976; she had only just left school and was working in fashion at a department store in Edinburgh. Every morning, as she waited for her bus, he would walk nonchalantly by, whistling, on his way to work at the factory. Even though he was only going to work, he always looked immaculate; he also appeared to be perpetually carefree and happy. A right 'Jack the Lad' – full of himself and far too cocky she thought while she watched him converge with other workers heading towards the factory. Some days he would look her way and throw her a wink or a cheeky smile which would brighten her day. But she was young and naïve, easily embarrassed by his attentions and she felt sure the other people at the bus stop could see her burning cheeks so would hastily look away from him.

One night, some months later, she was walking home from the bus stop, on a chilly Thursday evening in November after late night closing. She felt weary and grubby from her long day on the shop floor of ladies lingerie – 9 in the morning until 7 at night was a killer. She was looking forward to getting home and taking off her high heels, then having a long, hot soak in a bubble bath. There was a cold wind blowing down from the North which cut through her thin, black jacket like a knife. She had pulled her green woollen hat down in an attempt to keep her ears warm – a very unflattering look but she was beyond caring at this hour; besides it was dark anyway and no one would see her.

She heard footsteps from behind and all of a sudden he was there alongside of her, with his dazzling smile saying through a white cloud of breath, Hiya, a bit nippy out tonight, isn't it? She couldn't speak, the words just wouldn't come out, she was frozen to the spot, but he just stood in front of her blocking her progress, smiling and waiting. Cat got your tongue? he had said insolently, while he looked her up and down in a way that made her feel warm and mushy inside. She eventually managed to stutter, I know it's freezing and I've just finished work, she added lamely as she surreptitiously pulled her hat off and held it behind her back. You work somewhere in town I guess as I have just watched you get off that bus. Although the wind was icy her cheeks and ears were no longer cold as a blush raced up from her neck to set her face aflame.

Once she had gotten over the initial surprise of the encounter, she started to relax a little and the colour in her cheeks subsided slightly. Together they began walking slowly, all the while she was extremely conscious of his presence beside her. I work in that big department store near the station, I've been there for a few months now. She was reluctant to tell him she actually worked in lingerie selling knickers and bras. Aye, I know the one, don't go there much myself, I prefer the smaller boutiques – they have trendier stuff, don't you think?

Yeah, I suppose so, but I get a staff discount so I do get some things there. She couldn't stop staring into his eyes as she spoke.

So, do you fancy coming out one night then? he asked without a shred of doubt that the offer would be turned down.

She was far too naive to play hard to get and quickly answered, Okay, great, where will I meet you?

Say Saturday night about seven, at that bus stop and we will go in to town for a drink and take it from there.

Okay, I'll be there, she managed to reply just before they reached The Mede and he swiftly ducked into the doorway, giving her a twinkly smile which made her melt inside. See you at seven on Saturday, Jenny – her heart soared: he knew her name!

Left standing in the cold street alone, she felt stunned and couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. Before the meeting, she had felt shattered after a long day at work, but now she was walking on air. She couldn't believe her bad luck to have bumped into him tonight of all nights – Why couldn't it have been another time when she was dressed and made-up, ready for a night out with her pals she groaned inwardly. She had little experience with boys, but she was a very pretty girl and it was only shyness that had stopped her dating before. All the tiredness had now left her body as she approached her own front door barely able to suppress the smile on her glowing face.

One date led to another and soon they were courting properly, seeing each other most nights of the week and weekends too. She had been swept off her feet and enjoyed being seen out with Dave – he was so good-looking and popular, a real catch. However, she never felt completely secure in their relationship; every Friday night he would go out with the boys and she quickly discovered that he didn't like being quizzed about what he got up to when she wasn't with him. Looking back now she should have seen the warning signs of his bad temper. He would fly into a rage if she asked him where he had been and who with. He never ever lifted his hand to hit her but the ferocity of his shouting would really scare her – so much so that she soon refrained from asking him at all. On the other hand, Dave always wanted to know what she was doing, where she was going and who with. Being naïve she had taken it as a compliment, at first, and thought he must really care for her – but eventually she began to feel stifled by his persistent questioning.

After a while 'not asking' became an established pattern that she couldn't seem to break out of without fear of incurring the wrath of his anger. She didn't have the confidence to stand up to him or the support of any close friends of her own to help her to see what was happening. She was young and inexperienced in relationships, so she couldn't see that his behaviour was all about controlling her. In the beginning she didn't realise that the sexual side of the relationship wasn't what it should be either. Dave was quite a selfish and insistent lover, and although she enjoyed being close to him, he seemed to care little about her feelings. She often felt too scared of losing him to ever refuse him, even though she wasn't in the mood for sex some days.

However, over time, she had slowly learned the best way to take her own pleasure and was pleased to see that Dave responded even more ardently when she did this. They experimented and grew together until sex was something she looked forward to as much as he did, whenever they got the opportunity. They didn't always use a condom and she was too shy to go to the clinic to get the Pill. Eventually, they pushed their luck too far and she fell pregnant. When she had first told him, Dave went berserk; the ranting and raving had really terrified her. He made her feel that it was all her fault and she soon broke down in tears as he continued to yell. Eventually he had stormed off and left her standing alone in the park by the bench where she had broken the news. Shell shocked and extremely upset she had wandered around for a while in a daze, not knowing what to do or who to turn to. She had gone home and straight up to her bedroom to avoid questions from her parents; there she had lain awake half of the night paralysed with fear.

The next day dawned and he was there, at the bus stop, with a cheap bunch of flowers and sincere apologies. To cut a long story short she had forgiven him and they had a hastily arranged registry office marriage. Neither family were exactly over the moon about the situation but in these parts it was a fairly standard way of dealing with an unplanned pregnancy. They had lived with his parents at first and put their names down on the Council house waiting list. Because there was a baby on the way, they didn't have to wait too long and soon moved into the first floor Council flat where they still lived today.

She was startled from her reminiscing by the harsh, brassy clanging of the school bell and looked up towards the double doors which were disgorging noisy children. It was the same school that she herself had attended until the age of eleven. She still