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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“Yes, very much so, sure and he did. But I swear on the heads of the Blessed Saints, the true reason was the men I was working with. He was never happy about it. They were a hard-drinking lot, violent at times. The huts were not very nice, unsanitary. And all sorts of diseases were catching hold; some gangs had typhus, dysentery and even cholera.”
“So he became worried about yer well-being?”
“Aye, he did. My uncle is the best of men, Finn. I look up to him, respect him.”
“I understand why.…” There was a small pause, and Finn said quietly, “But ye made quite a lot of shillings over half a year. Money. That’s what I be after.”
“I don’t blame ye, Finn. I must admit, I like ter make money. And one day I aim ter build houses, and become a wealthy man. Not just comfortable, with food on me table. Rich.”
Finn stared at him, obviously startled by Blackie’s comments. After a moment, he said, “What a dream ter have.… I hope it comes true.”
Fourteen
Blackie and Finn did one last check of the kitchen, the joinery and the plumbing. They ran the kitchen taps, flushed the modern lavatory installed in a small back room, and then they made sure all the doors closed properly throughout the entire kitchen. Mrs. Wilson had installed a modern gas range for her cook to use and the scullery at the back of the house, with its coppers for the washing and deep enamel sink, had new cupboards as well.
“Well, that’s about it,” Blackie said, after inspecting some hinges on a cupboard door. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s finally finished.” He put his hand on Finn’s arm, and his voice was affectionate when he said, in a quiet tone, “I appreciate yer help. Faith, to be sure, I do. I couldn’t have done it without ye.”
“Ye would’ve,” Finn shot back, “’cos yer ever so clever, Blackie. I’ve learned a lot from ye, and thanks for having me on the job.”
“I’m famished. Let’s go and sit on the steps outside and share the sandwiches Aunt Eileen made.”
Blackie went over to his sack near the sink and took out several packages and two bottles. Showing one to Finn, he said, with a short laugh, “Lemonade. Made by my aunt,” as if he were announcing vintage wine.
Finn laughed with him and, a few moments later, the two young men were sitting on the steps in the sun enjoying their sandwiches filled with thin slices of corned beef and drinking their lemonade.
His mouth full, Blackie asked, “Are ye coming to the Dance Hall on Saturday? I’m planning on that.”