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
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“Tomorrow, I thought I should take you around Upper Armley, show you the neighborhood. Then on Saturday, we can take the tram into Leeds. How does that sound, lad?”
Blackie sat up. “I’d like that, Uncle Pat, and certainly the visit to Leeds … the great metropolis! I’ve dreamed of going there ever since the chance of living with you both was talked about, on the heads of the Blessed Saints, I swear I have.”
“We are happy to have you,” Eileen said, meaning every word. She was well aware Patrick had always wanted a son. A small sigh was smothered as she thought of her two miscarriages, her inability to give her husband the children he had craved. A wonderful, loving man whom she adored, and who filled her heart with joy.
Unexpectedly, Eileen remembered something and sat up straighter in her chair, “Oh goodness, Pat! I forgot to tell you—”
“What did you forget?” he asked mildly.
“The message from Mrs. Burton. She has another job for you, the windows over her garden. The sashes have gone.”
“Oh, to be sure, I don’t want to go back there again. I’ve had it with that house. Do you have the note?”
Eileen said, “She didn’t send a note. She sent her housekeeper, Jeannie Gregson, who explained about the windows.”
Patrick stiffened and looked at Eileen swiftly, but she had not noticed. He attempted to keep a bland expression when he said, “I suppose I shall have to go around there, but it can wait until Monday. I want us all to enjoy Blackie’s first weekend here.”
Patrick Kennedy was unable to fall asleep. He lay on his right side, wide awake, staring at the window. The message from Mrs. Burton had surprised him, filled him with alarm. Mrs. Burton herself was a fine woman and a good customer. It was her housekeeper, Jeannie Gregson, he could not abide and hoped never to see again.
She had come after him, thrown herself at him from the first moment they had met. He considered her to be vulgar, wanton and dangerous, and had always avoided contact with her when working at the house.
Yet there were moments when she would, suddenly, be right next to him, brushing up against him, touching his shoulder or his arm, offering him tea, water, a glass of beer. As if he would actually drink on the job in his client’s house. The woman was a fool.
When he knew she was not aware of his presence nearby, he watched her, in particular her behavior with the other men employed by Mrs. Burton. Jeannie Gregson was not the same with them. She was remote and had no interest. It was him she was after. So, therefore, he must avoid her at all costs.