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
“Here I am, me darlin’ Emma, bearing a few gifts for the wee bairn.”
It was true. His arms were full of packages, which he put down on the kitchen table, before taking off his topcoat.
“Blackie! You’re early. I didn’t expect to see you so soon!” she exclaimed.
“Well, ye knows I can’t resist the new addition to our little family. So I came galloping over without giving it a thought.”
“I’m glad you did. Just go and take a peek at her, sleeping peacefully. A perfect little girl, Blackie.”
“Aye and sure she is. For doesn’t she take after her beautiful mother?” He strode over to look at the baby in the cradle, smiled and then headed for the table. “Come on, Emma, come and look at the bits and pieces I picked up for Tinker Bell.”
Standing up, Emma joined him, and asked, “And where did ‘Tinker Bell’ come from all of a sudden?”
“I think I heard it’s a name in a play. But I took a liking ter it, sure and I did, and I be thinking it was a sweet name for a wee bairn I now know.”
As he spoke, he began to unwrap the presents. “Help me, mavourneen.”
Emma tore the paper off one parcel and discovered a pink wool coat trimmed with pink ribbon. “Oh, Blackie, it’s lovely. Thank you.”
“And here’s the matching bonnet and a little pair of booties. I hope they’ll fit the wee mite. I had to be guessing the sizes.”
“They’re perfect, Blackie, but you should not be spending your money on … Tinker Bell.” She smiled as she used his name for her daughter. “You should be saving it to build that house of yours in Harrogate.”
“Ah, by God, I will do that one day; on the heads of the Blessed Saints, I will do that. But me and me uncle Pat are doing well; sure and I can spare a few bob for Tinker Bell.…” He paused and handed her the last parcel.
Emma opened it and found a fluffy white lamb in her hands. “Blackie, thank you again; you’re spoiling her already. She can cuddle this.”
“She deserves a toy, ye knows.”
Moving to the kitchen, Emma took the kettle, filled it with water and put it to the stove. “I’ll make us a cup of tea. Are you hungry, Blackie? Do you want something to eat?”
“Ah, no, mavourneen. Tea will be just fine.” He began to pick up the paper and threw it onto the fire. “Tinker Bell has to have a real name, ye knows. So, Emma, what are you going ter call her?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she answered quietly, and stood waiting for the kettle to boil, suddenly looking plaintive. After filling the teapot, she sat down at the table, waiting for the tea to mash.