Next he took out two packets of sandwiches and again gave one to his nephew. ‘Sliced ham, the best I could do,’ he said, removing the greaseproof paper wrapping.

Blackie thanked him, and said, ‘I’m ravenous …’ He paused, and added, ‘But then I always am.’

‘I know. None of us gets enough nourishing food. When did you last eat, Blackie?’

‘Yesterday. A packet of bread and cheese Siobhan gave me. Same the day before.’

Patrick sighed, thinking of the state of the country – not only of Ireland, but England as well. The greatest empire in the world. The rich lived off the fat of the land whilst the poor had to manage on the scraps carelessly thrown to them. Would there never be a change for the better? There were moments when he thought about entering politics, wondering if he could bring about change. But generally he dismissed it before the idea, the thought of it, took hold. He preferred to make money.

Hard work had never bothered him; he went at it with drive, determination and enthusiasm. He sensed the same ambition in his nephew, which was why he had brought him to Leeds, to better himself, to give Blackie a chance to make some good money.

Somebody had once said that money was the source of all evil. In his opinion, it was the source of good health and a secure life. He would somehow manage to dodge the so-called evil.

There was a companionable silence between the two of them as they ate the ham sandwiches and drank the water, and the train rolled on to the north.

At one moment, Patrick said, ‘We’re lucky to have a carriage to ourselves – because it’s Thursday. The weekends are a trial. Too many folk travelling, rushing about.’

‘Is that why ye changed the day, Uncle?’

‘It is. I didn’t want us to have to push and shove our way through the crowds,’ Patrick explained. ‘Tiresome.’

‘I hadn’t realized how big the docks would be in Liverpool,’ Blackie said, with wonder in his voice. ‘And so many boats. It astonished me.’

‘Ships,’ Patrick corrected. ‘You can put a boat on a ship, but you can’t put a ship on a boat. It’s the smaller of the two. Remember that.’

Blackie nodded. ‘I will … where are they sailing off to?’

‘All over the world – India, Africa, America, and even the South American countries. Long voyages, sure and they are, but we’ve always been the people of seagoing islands.’ Patrick smiled at Blackie. ‘And perhaps that’s because we are islanders, surrounded by the sea, and we want to see the world.’

‘Mum told me ye were in the Royal Navy when ye were young – sixteen, she said.’

‘I was,’ Patrick answered.

‘Did ye like being a sailor on a big ship, Uncle Pat?’