Blackie O’Neill stood in the middle of Mrs Wilson’s kitchen, his eyes focused on the white ceiling. He felt a sudden rush of pride – it gleamed, almost sparkled. Perfect, he thought. It truly was.

His gaze settled on the windows on the opposite side of the room. He was glad Mrs Wilson had agreed to his suggestion to make them larger; they balanced the new glass window at the end of the kitchen, which overlooked the garden.

What a problem that huge piece of glass had been to handle and to get into the wall. His uncle had been worried about the idea. But Blackie had been determined, had asked around until he had quickly found men who were the most experienced glaziers, recommended by the manager of the glassworks. And now Mrs Wilson’s old, run-down kitchen had brilliant daylight, and something unheard of in these parts: a window so large it was almost a glass wall. A faint smile flickered on his mouth. His own invention, plucked from his imagination. He felt proud.

He looked down at the floor and couldn’t help admiring it also. A pattern of black-and-white tiles, with the larger white tiles placed to look like a diamond shape, each one surrounded on four sides by black tiles, shaped like narrow bricks.

Unexpectedly Blackie frowned. What was that odd black mark near the wall of glass? A slash of black on a white tile! What was it?

He hurried across the room, the frown intact. He almost slipped, since he had yellow dusters tied around his boots to protect the floor. Instantly, he slowed down and moved more carefully.

It was soot. But from where? The fireplace? Certainly, there was nowhere else to look.

The fire was out, since it was a warm summer day. Puzzled, he shook his head and walked to the kitchen door, looked outside.

Finn was sitting on the stone steps that led to the driveway, smoking a cigarette. He looked up when he saw Blackie, then jumped up when he saw the dour expression on his face.

‘What’s up?’ he asked, walking forward, climbing the steps. ‘Ye look as if ye’ve lost a pound and found a penny.’

Blackie couldn’t help laughing. Finn was full of old sayings and phrases. He’d never known anyone quite like him, and those odd expressions were on the tip of his tongue constantly.

‘I’ve found soot! Bloody soot on the floor!’

‘From the flue,’ Finn muttered. ‘I’d better get a cloth to clean it off.’

‘There’s a clean cloth in one of the drawers,’ Blackie replied, and turned to go back inside. Then he noticed the two yellow dusters on the top step, and motioned to them. ‘Don’t forget to put the dusters on, Finn.’

‘Would I ever dare to forget? Ye’d have me guts for garters.’