Finding Friends on Beamer Street

Sheila Riley

Description

The start of a series from Sheila Riley, bestselling author of the Reckoner's Row saga series!

Liverpool 1921
Pregnant, Mary Jane Starlings secret wedding to Paddy Redfern ends in disaster when her fiancé is murdered on the way to the church. Paddy’s wayward twin ‘Red’ intercepts Mary Jane and warns that they must flee Ireland for fear of reprisals from her family, never to return.
Too young and terrified to question Red’s motives, Mary Jane, is hurriedly escorted to Liverpool where she quickly discovers Red’s good Samaritan act is a sham when he abandons her homeless and destitute.
However, strength, fortitude and good luck save her when she catches the eye of reclusive Cal Everdine and is befriended by Molly Hayward’s lovable family.
But Mary Jane still has to live with the overbearing guilt of the secrets she holds.
Will she ever be able to follow her dreams and reconcile her past?

A brand-new series, set around Liverpool Docks, by bestselling author Sheila Riley

Sujets

• Policier & Thriller
• Policier
• 20th Century
• World Literature
• Modern
• Historical
• HISTORY
• Women
• Inglaterra
• Friendship
• Historical romance
• Modern history
• General officer
• Historical fiction
• Woman
• The Women
• General
• Sagas
• Romance
• England
• Obermodern-Zutzendorf
• Saga
• Liverpool
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 16 novembre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781804832769
• Langue: English

Extrait

FINDING FRIENDS ON BEAMER STREET


SHEILA RILEY
CONTENTS



Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33


More From Sheila Riley

About the Author

Also by Sheila Riley

Sixpence Stories

About Boldwood Books
PROLOGUE
CASHALREE – IRELAND, JULY 1921

‘Shaving on a Friday! Are you in court, Paddy?’ Christie ‘Red’ Redfern focused on his twin brother with blurry, beer-soaked eyes and gave a mirthless laugh.
‘You know your own tricks best, Red,’ answered Paddy, soaping his chin. ‘I am in no humour for you today.’
‘For sure.’ Red shrugged his shoulders and scowled, his head thumping, he could well do without Paddy’s pontificating. Older by just half an hour, Paddy never failed to remind him by word or deed that he was The Chosen One . Ever eager to show him the error of his ways. Red thought of the trips he made to Liverpool when he could do whatever he liked away from Paddy’s scrutiny and constant nagging.
‘Have you fed the pigs?’ Paddy’s reflection glared through the rust-speckled mirror.
‘It’s done,’ Red replied with a definite nod of his head . Well, it will be when I get me head on straight. What a blinding night that was.
‘What time did you get in?’
Here we go again . Red sighed deeply, unable to recall the exact time, maybe around dawn. ‘Not late.’ Red was desperate to put his head on the pillow and sleep. Depending on how you look at it. I was home very early – but not on the same day I went out . He decided not to share this information with Paddy. He looked as happy as a man going to the gallows. Still drunk, the thought made Red want to giggle. Nevertheless, Saint Paddy would not approve, so he remained as straight-faced as he could. Paddy was an eejit. Working all the hours sent. He was good for a few bob, though, when times were hard, and friends were few.
‘It’s about time you pulled your weight, Red, I won’t always be here.’
‘I don’t know why you put so much work into the place, it isn’t even ours.’
‘No, the farm isn’t ours . But it could be,’ Paddy answered through the mirror.
‘Sure, why would I be after breaking my back for such little reward?’ When I can tap a mug like you.
‘Instead of drinking every penny, you could save up, like me.’
‘Well, seeing as you’re so flush, could you see your way clear to—’ His head bobbed like a cork on water, his hazy eyes wide and expectant.
‘I’m not lending you another penny!’ Paddy cut his brother’s begging request mid-sentence. Ever since they were born, Red had depended on his twin’s generous nature.
Red scowled, pulling down the peak of the cap he had worn from the night before, his corduroy trousers and shirt crumpled, he had missed some badly needed sleep rehearsing what he would say to Paddy, to whom, he had conveniently forgotten, he still owed money. His refusal was like a smack in the kisser, for sure!
‘C’mon, Paddy, it’s only for a few days.’ He tried not to sound desperate as he eyed the determined jut of Paddy’s jaw through the mirror.
Slowly, tantalisingly, Paddy drew a long streak of soap and stubble from the side of his face with an open razor, saying nothing, building up Red’s hope.
‘Sure, you’ll get it back by next Friday. It’s only a loan. Seven measly days.’ Red tugged the cotton loops on the blue candlewick bedspread until there was a bald patch. ‘I’ll even pay you interest. How’s that?’
‘That’s good of you,’ Paddy said ruefully, dimming Red’s hopes.
Sitting on the end of the double bed he shared with his twin brother, Red was silent as his foot impatiently tapped the bare floorboards. It would not do to rush Paddy into a decision. He liked his bit of power, and Red was usually happy to oblige. But today, he was in a hurry. He had to pay Dinny O’Mara. Although, he knew if he sounded anxious, Paddy would make him wait until the very last minute before giving him the money he so desperately needed. The last minute is here , Paddy and you are my only chance of staying attached to my kneecaps .
‘You want to buck your ideas up.’ Paddy said through a face half full of lather.
I’ll keep it in mind, Father Christmas . Red’s thoughts were as sour as the taste in his mouth. He did not voice his thoughts, obviously. Instead, he went for a repentant expression, nodding his head in all the right places. ‘I know. You’re right, Paddy. And I will.’
‘You’ve got to get a grip of yourself, lay off the drink,’ Paddy told him. ‘Come in at a respectable hour, and stay away from the rebels.’
‘This’ll be the last time, Paddy. Honest t’ God.’ He wanted to knock Paddy’s patronising block off so much.
‘You say that every time.’
Fer Jaysus’ sake! Will yer leave me with a bit of dignity! Red raked stubby fingers through thick black hair. D’you want me to get down on bended knees? Do ya? Red knew he had to keep his paper dry. Once he had the money, he could tell Paddy exactly what he thought, but until then, he would have to play the penitent, apologetic game.
‘Well, you’re out of luck this time, Red, I am sorry.’
‘What!’ A small explosion went off inside Red’s head. He checked it. Paddy was serious. Red glared at his brother through the mirror, leaning over the washbowl. Paddy’s expression was one of determined concentration. An expression that told Red he had closed the subject. It was over. Done with. Red felt the anger swell inside him, his temples throbbing. He had to sit here and listen to Paddy spouting rubbish about him saving for a future, and the bastard wasn’t going to lend him the money after all!
‘There’s no end to it, Red,’ Paddy said, waggling his razor in the water to remove the thick white suds. ‘My money feels like it’s on an elastic band. Back and forth, I’m losing track.’
You are loving this . Red knew he could not blow; Paddy might just change his mind. He tried another tack. ‘I wouldn’t ask, Pad, but you see…’ Red would play on his brother’s protective nature. ‘I owe Dinny O’Mara, and he wants his money today.’
‘Then he will have to want,’ Paddy said, calm as you like, ‘because I haven’t got it to lend you.’ He turned his cheek and slid the open razor down the other side.
‘C’mon, Paddy, you know as well as I do, O’Mara’s not a man you can say no to.’ Red glared at the back of his brother’s head. Paddy wouldn’t deny him now, surely?
‘That’s a pity, Red, but I have not got the money.’
‘What d’you mean you haven’t got it? You’re loaded!’ Red swallowed the volcanic anger rising inside of him. Paddy was being awkward. He wondered if he should mention what he saw his twin brother and Mary Jane Starling doing in the hayloft… He decided against it and would drop that bombshell only if matters got desperate and Paddy dug his size twelves in.
‘I was loaded, Red, but that was before.’
‘Before what?’ Red’s curiosity tempered the rising anger he found hard to quell.
‘Before I bought a couple of boat tickets and decided to go to church.’ Paddy looked smug as he continued shaving.
‘I hope you’ll say one for me while you’re there.’ If Dinny O’Mara got hold of him, he was going to need all the prayers he could get.
‘I’m not going to mass; I went to the early one this morning.’ Paddy’s voice held a note of admonishment ‘But you wouldn’t know that because you weren’t home.’
‘So why are you going?’ Red ignored the slight, but he knew confession was not until tomorrow.
‘Because, brother, I’m getting married.’
So, that’s what the boat tickets were for. A honeymoon!
‘Mary Jane?’ Her name came out like a gasp of air.
Through the looking glass, Paddy stretched his neck, pressing soapy lips together while making little upward swipes to his chin with the lethal-looking razor.
‘Jaysus!’ Red’s voice was hang-over hoarse. He could not believe it. ‘Mary Jane?’ Slowly he shook his head.
‘Just a quiet ceremony.’
‘I’m happy for you.’ You bastard. Mary Jane was the most beautiful girl in all of Cashalree, if not the whole of Ireland. Did Paddy have any more grenades to throw? First the money, then Mary Jane! The girl he had set his sight on years ago. ‘When are you going to marry her?’
‘Half an hour,’ Paddy answered succinctly. ‘I want you to be my best man.’
‘Are you mad?’ Red could not keep the astonishment from his voice. ‘Do her brothers know?’ Mary Jane had three older, very protective, well-respected brothers who would not take kindly to losing the only woman of the house.
Watching Paddy finish his shave, softly whistling as he dried his cut-throat razor on the towel around his neck, Red knew Paddy was taunting him. The low, arrogant whistle told Red he was the loser.
However, he wouldn’t be if he opened his mouth, would he? Red knew what they had been getting up to. He had followed them into the barn, and what he saw had confirmed his suspicions. Nevertheless, from that moment on, he knew no peace. Thoughts of Mary Jane tormented him day and night. In his dreams, it was not Paddy enjoying her soft silken flesh and seductive curves, Mary Jane was not making passionate love to his brother – she was with him. The dreams were driving him mad. Goading him. Tormenting him. Reminding him, he was second best. Why else would he drink strong beer and whisky every night? It was all Paddy’s fault. Once again, Paddy had landed on his feet. Paddy, his father’s golden boy. The chosen one. The second bloody coming of Christ!
‘Too slow to get out of your own road…’ Paddy’s words rang in his head.
‘Not like your brother, the first-born.’ Dar had said, more than once. Paddy was akin to royalty in their parents’ eyes.
‘Have you told Dar?’ This, he had to see. Their father