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
“Fancy that.… I’ve never heard of it,” Blackie answered. “But I do see how practical it is.” Putting down his tea, he leaned forward; focusing his eyes on her, he said, “I’ve a confession ter make ter ye, love.”
Laura sat up straighter, a look of alarm settling on her face. “What kind of confession?” she asked, her voice suddenly worried.
“I kept a secret from ye, lass, and it was real stupid of me, faith and it was. So now I shall tell ye. Is that all right?”
Laura simply nodded, wondering what on earth he had been keeping from her. Could it be another woman? She hoped not. She sat rather tensely in the chair, expecting the worst.
Blackie said in a quiet tone, “I took a job once, some time ago, and it was only for the money. Ye see, I wanted to build me nest egg, and I couldn’t resist the offer. It were ten shillings a day, and—”
“But there’s nothing wrong with that,” Laura interrupted, filling with relief.
“No, there wasn’t,” Blackie said. “Let me just tell ye, Laura, and don’t interrupt me, or it’ll never get told.” He stared at her intently.
She nodded and sat back in her chair, remained silent.
Blackie commenced. “The money meant everything. But the hours were difficult, hard to keep from dawn ’til dusk. The job had ter be rushed ter meet the deadline, so the manager of the building came to me. He said, ‘In at four o’clock every morning, and finish at five o’clock. Five other builders to help ye. Ye’ll be the foreman and ye’ll live in lodgings in Leeds. No time for traveling home.’”
Blackie paused, took a sip of tea and went on with his story. “All that was no problem for me. I’m strong; long hours don’t bother me. But the lodging house did. It was in the Bank, the Ham Shank. The most dangerous place there is in Leeds. Still an’ all, I risked it. I wanted the work—it were good building experience, more than Uncle Pat could offer at the time. And for the money, ye see. Work building the last top floor. An office building it were, near Briggate. And tough ter do, but we made it.…”
Again Blackie paused, and as Laura started to speak, Blackie held up his hand. “Not quite finished yet, love. I lied to Uncle Pat. I didn’t dare tell him about the job, and living in the Ham Shank, so I told him I had a chance to go ter London, to stay with Tommy O’Hara, my old friend from Ireland. A little break from work, a short holiday, and he agreed. Ye see, I knew Tommy had gone back ter Galway to see his sister, so I was safe … in lying, I mean.”