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Back A Man of Honour Save as PDF
Chapters (73)
  1. Cover
  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. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  70. Keep Reading …
  71. About the Author
  72. Also by Barbara Taylor Bradford
  73. About the Publisher

Blackie sat at the desk in his bedroom, painstakingly writing letters. He had promised to let his cousins know he had arrived safely, as well as Mrs O’Malley and Cook.

In her thoughtful way, Siobhan had given him a packet of notepaper and envelopes when he was packing to leave, plus a sixpenny bit ‘for the stamps’, she had explained.

Once the short letters were finished, notes really, he sat back in the chair, glancing around the room. It was small, there were no two ways about that, but he could not get over the wonderful thing of the privacy … he didn’t have to share it. And despite its small size, it had plenty of space for his few clothes, his only possessions, except for his book about the Tudors, given to him by Father O’Donovan before he had left North Kerry. He truly treasured that.

During their walk around Upper Armley, earlier in the day, Patrick had pointed out Armley Library and told him how he could get a library card so that he could take out books to read. Blackie, with his usual string of questions, knew all about the library system in a few minutes. He couldn’t wait to join. The thought of shelves filled with hundreds of books thrilled him no end. He was certain he would find some about architecture and engineering, history and maybe even building work. He couldn’t get enough of them.

He felt full for once and relaxed. Walking across the room in two strides, he lay down on the bed, sighing with pleasure at the feeling of comfort this gave him. He was warm enough and he couldn’t believe his luck.

Well, here he was at last, in Leeds with Uncle Pat, and all set and ready to go. On Monday morning. He was happy. Work appealed to him. He enjoyed being busy, and he knew he was lucky to have a relative who was willing to take him into his business as an apprentice and also let him share his home.

Although the house on Town Street was small and simply furnished, it was neat and clean, and had an air of welcome about it.

He had a lot of admiration for his uncle, not only for the things he had done and had achieved, but also the way he carried himself, his good manners and his inherent kindness. In certain ways he reminded Blackie of his mother. This was partially to do with his colouring, the blond-reddish hair, and his handsome looks … Blackie thought his mother had been a female copy of Uncle Pat. He knew he got his Black Irish looks from his father’s side of the family, not the Kennedys. Thinking of his mother provoked a familiar wave of grief: he was alone in the world. But now he had his uncle and this new chance at a better life.