Chapters (100)
- Half Title
- Also By Natalie Fergie
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Contents
- 2011
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- 1908
- Chapter 3
- 1910
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- 1921
- Chapter 31
- 1931
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- 1951
- Chapter 50
- 2011
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- Chapter 68
- Chapter 69
- Chapter 70
- Chapter 71
- Chapter 72
- Chapter 73
- Chapter 74
- Chapter 75
- Chapter 76
- Chapter 77
- 2021
- Chapter 78
- Chapter 79
- Chapter 80
- 2022
- Chapter 81
- Parkin
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- About Embla Books
‘I had thought that this house would be where my wife and I would bring up our family, but according to the doctor we saw this morning, she is quite unwell, and now I am uncertain about almost everything.’ It was somehow easier to tell a complete stranger about his circumstances than it would have been to disclose them to a friend on the golf course.
‘I hope the news isn’t as bad as you fear, sir.’ The man held out his hand, and John grasped it, feeling the man’s callused skin against his own office-smooth fingers.
‘Thank you. Please keep the coat, it may be useful to the lad.’ He judged the plasterer to be a similar build to himself. ‘Or to someone else.’
He looked back at the house, noticing for the first time that someone had chalked a 2 and a 5 in large numbers on the stone lintel above the door. He turned and picked his way back along the uneven road surface of Library Terrace, rubbing his hands together in the brisk air because his leather gloves were in the pockets of the coat that was no longer his, and it would have been churlish to go back and ask for them.
Finlay and Ann would be waiting for him at home. He had no idea how he was going to tell them the news about their mother.
1910
Chapter 4
November 1910
Ursula sat in the silent office. As usual, she was the last person to leave. She liked the edges of the day best; the first moment when the noisy printing presses came to life in the morning, and then the satisfying sight of stacks of leaflets and programmes and catalogues all piled up ready to be shipped out to customers at the close of business. She knew she was going to miss it all.
The company’s keys lay beside her gloves on the desk, next to the bottles of black and red ink. She took a sheet of headed paper from the drawer and threaded it around the typewriter roller, rested her fingers on the keys, looked ahead and began.
Friday, 18th November 1910
Dear All,
I have come to know and respect each one of you since I arrived at Black’s from London three years ago, and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the well-wishes you have expressed today. Your generosity of spirit has warmed me greatly.