Across a summer sea [antikvár]

Chapter One Liverpool, 1910 Nellie jones was flustered. The heat in the tiny kitchen had caused beads of perspiration to break out on her forehead and her normally florid complexion was heightened to an almost turkey-cock red. Strands of greying hair had escaped from the severe knot to which she had that morning confined it. Her small, stout figure was enveloped in a large, unbleached calico apron, which was already stained and creased. 'Why did she have to pick flaming Christmas, that's what I want to know? Haven't we all got enough to do as it is?' 'I thought you were delighted your Violet is getting married at last? Haven't you been adding Lord knows how many decades of the Rosary to your evening prayers that Sam Flaherty would ask her?' Mary McGann smiled as she deftly transferred the rich mixture she had been stirring into the large square greased tin. 'Well, that's the bunloaf ready for the oven,' she finished. Nellie sighed. 'Oh, I am delighted. I've been storming heaven with me prayers. It's just that it's such a busy time.' 'Last night I heard her going into raptures over a fancy three-tier iced wedding cake she saw in Skillicorn's Bakery window,' Maty informed the bride-to-be's mother. Nellie looked annoyed. 'She can go into as many raptures as she wants, she'll make do with the bunloaf and like it. Who does she think her da is? Lord Derby? Iced wedding cakes indeed!' 'Do yer think there's goin' ter be enough ribs 'ere, Nell?' Queenie 1