Chapters (71)
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Part One
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Part Two
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Part Three
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Part Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Part Five
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Books by Barbara Taylor Bradford
- About the Author
- Newsletter Sign-up
At one moment, Patrick said, “We’re lucky to have a carriage to ourselves—because it’s Thursday. The weekends are a trial. Too many folk traveling, rushing about.”
“Is that why ye changed the day, Uncle?”
“It is. I didn’t want us to have to push and shove our way through the crowds,” Patrick explained. “Tiresome.”
“I hadn’t realized how big the docks would be in Liverpool,” Blackie said, with wonder in his voice. “And so many boats. It astonished me.”
“Ships,” Patrick corrected. “You can put a boat on a ship, but you can’t put a ship on a boat. It’s the smaller of the two. Remember that.”
Blackie nodded. “I will.… Where are they sailing off to?”
“All over the world … India, Africa, America and even the South American countries. Long voyages, sure and they are, but we’ve always been the people of seagoing islands.” Patrick smiled at Blackie. “And perhaps that’s because we are islanders, surrounded by the sea, and we want to see the world.”
“Mum told me ye were in the Royal Navy when ye were young, sixteen, she said.”
“I was,” Patrick answered.
“Did ye like being a sailor on a big ship, Uncle Pat?”
“Oh aye, I did. What a life! I enjoyed every moment I was at sea, and I still miss it sometimes, even now at my age.”
“Mam said ye joined the navy the year before I was born, so ye can’t be that old now,” Blackie observed, swift as usual with a comeback.
Patrick gave him a long, hard look, then said, “I’m thirty, lad, and I thought you knew that.”
Blackie shook his head, and after a moment he said, “Ye don’t look it. Ye are still a young spalpeen, Uncle.”
Patrick laughed. “If only, Blackie, if only.” The laughter stayed; he looked pleased.
“So why did ye leave the Royal Navy if ye liked it so much?”
“Love,” Patrick murmured, a soft look slipping onto his face. “I fell in love with your aunt Eileen. And after a few years, the loneliness, when I was at sea, got to her. She wanted me with her.”
“And so ye left because of her.”
“Only too true, and why so many questions, my lad?” Patrick probed. He hadn’t expected this inquisition.
“I like to know about people,” was the boy’s fast response.
“Don’t we all.” Patrick chuckled, still amused. “It’s a natural trait of the human being.… We’re all nosey, curious about other people’s lives.”
“I suppose,” Blackie answered, wondering if his uncle was annoyed with him for pestering. He didn’t seem to be. But Blackie decided to keep quiet, and settled back against the seat.