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Chapters (71)
  1. Copyright Notice
  2. Dedication
  3. Part One
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Part Two
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Twenty-Four
  29. Twenty-Five
  30. Twenty-Six
  31. Twenty-Seven
  32. Twenty-Eight
  33. Twenty-Nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-One
  36. Thirty-Two
  37. Part Three
  38. Thirty-Three
  39. Thirty-Four
  40. Thirty-Five
  41. Thirty-Six
  42. Thirty-Seven
  43. Thirty-Eight
  44. Thirty-Nine
  45. Forty
  46. Forty-One
  47. Forty-Two
  48. Forty-Three
  49. Forty-Four
  50. Part Four
  51. Forty-Five
  52. Forty-Six
  53. Forty-Seven
  54. Forty-Eight
  55. Forty-Nine
  56. Fifty
  57. Fifty-One
  58. Fifty-Two
  59. Fifty-Three
  60. Part Five
  61. Fifty-Four
  62. Fifty-Five
  63. Fifty-Six
  64. Fifty-Seven
  65. Fifty-Eight
  66. Fifty-Nine
  67. Sixty
  68. Sixty-One
  69. Books by Barbara Taylor Bradford
  70. About the Author
  71. Newsletter Sign-up

“Oh, Uncle Pat! No, no, ye don’t have to buy shirts for me!” Blackie protested, sounding surprised and concerned.

“I do. Your aunt and I didn’t do anything much for your birthday in May—”

“But ye did. Aunt Eileen baked me a lovely cake, and ye had Finn to tea.”

“I wish to give you a present, from us both, Blackie.” Patrick looked at Mr. Pinkerton, and said, “I believe you know my nephew’s size, don’t you?”

“I do indeed. I shall go and fetch a few of my shirts from a new shipment. I won’t be a moment.” The proprietor hurried away intent in his purpose.

Blackie said, “Please, Uncle Pat, ye don’t have to give me shirts. Ye keep a roof over my head and feed me, and I am grateful for that, and my job with ye. On the heads of the Blessed Saints, that be all I am needing from ye and Aunt Eileen, to be sure. That’s the honest truth.”

Leaning closer to Blackie, Patrick said in a low voice, “You actually need a couple of new shirts. You have very few clothes as it is. So please accept this gift.” Patrick chuckled. “Think of it as a necessity, if not a birthday present.”

Blackie nodded, knowing there was no point arguing, and said, “I thank ye, Uncle. I shall buy a pair of combs, which I surely need. I took some shillings out of my nest egg.”

Mr. Pinkerton came back with a pile of folded cotton shirts and laid them out on the counter, along with the matching collars with studs. Blackie looked at them all, realizing, almost immediately, that his uncle was correct. He did need something new, because if he was truthful with himself, he looked very shabby.

He hated to spend the money that he was trying so hard to save on clothes. But he realized that to get on in life he could not look poor, like a laborer. His uncle was a workingman but always neatly turned out, his clothes tidy and darned, well looked after.

And Blackie wanted even more from life than his uncle Pat. He was hungry for a bigger life. To build the houses he dreamed of, using the ideas that filled his mind. Big MONEY. That’s what he needed. He would work harder than ever to get it. It was the secret to life.

Sixteen

Eileen greeted them with a big smile when they arrived at the bakery. She had her hat and coat on ready to go; the bakery was full of customers on Saturday mornings, but by midday it was empty, the shelves bare. Everyone had bought up Eileen’s Saturday specials and gone home to enjoy them.

Blackie loved the smell of the shop … baking bread mingled with the aroma of sponge cake and cream buns, and his favorite apple pie.