{"id":261131,"date":"2026-07-13T18:09:12","date_gmt":"2026-07-13T15:09:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/from-clare-to-here-katie-flynn\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T18:09:12","modified_gmt":"2026-07-13T15:09:12","slug":"from-clare-to-here-katie-flynn","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/from-clare-to-here-katie-flynn\/","title":{"rendered":"From Clare To Here – Katie Flynn"},"content":{"rendered":"
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I’ll come wit’ you\/ Conn insisted. He took her arm. ‘Shall we run, alanna? I can see you’re worried to death.’ They arrived, panting, in Dally Court to find com- plete bedlam. The tenement in which she had been born and raised was a great, still smoking pile of bricks.<\/p>\n

Neighbours were digging around, moving bricks, calling . . . and bodies were laid out in a neat row over by the next block. Maggie stood very still, clutching her throat, then recognised one of the searchers. ‘Patsy!’ she called. ‘Patsy, it’s me, Maggie McVeigh. What’s happened?<\/p>\n

Where’s . . . where’s me family?’ Patsy Craven came over to her. His face was black, save for two white trails which ran from either eye. He was crying. ‘Maggie? Sure an’ ’tis yourself,’ he said brokenly. ‘They’re dead, all of ’em. Not one saved so far … Biddy’s gone, Carrie, your mam . . .’ Maggie said, panting, ‘I don’t believe you! You’re coddin’ me!’ and broke free from Conn’s restraining arm. She ran across to where the bodies had been laid and fell to her knees, gabbling a prayer as she did so.<\/p>\n

And saw for herself. Biddy, her face smooth and calm but her body hideously broken. Carrie, the same. Clodagh, the same. Her mother, the same. Maggie gave a terrible scream and began to say it was all her fault, that if only she’d agreed to live at home . . . A voice, gentle, persuasive, was in her ear, an arm was around her waist.<\/p>\n

‘Come along now, there’s no good in talkin’ like that. Come on. I’m goin’ to tek you home, you can’t do no good here. Dear God, your hands is like ice . . . here, put this on.’ Something warm was thrown round her shoulders and the arm around her waist steadied her, then began to lead her away. She made no effort to break free, she just kept crying and saying over and over: ‘If only I’d come home!<\/p>\n

If only I’d been with them I could have warned them . . . Oh, if only I’d been livin’ at home!’<\/p>\n

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happened, thought Ellen ruefully as they climbed back aboard the train. They had kissed and she had a shrewd feeling that such a kiss should have changed their relationship in some way, made them more . . . well, perhaps more aware was the closest she could get. And it hadn’t. She was still fonder of Tolly than anyone else she knew, but she understood, at last, that she must wait and let him find out just what it was he wanted.<\/p>\n

If it was her . . . oh, how marvellous that would be! But if it wasn’t, she would have to learn to live with it. They reached the Pier Head when the street lamps were all being lit and went back to Heyworth Street on the first tram to come along. Then Tolly saw her to her door, saying a very sweet goodnight to her on the pavement, and when, at the last minute, he caught her shoulders and kissed her brow, she smiled up at him and tried to pretend that the chaste salute was all she had ever expected from him.<\/p>\n

‘Thanks for a lovely evening. Tolly,’ she said as she let herself into the house. ‘See you tomorrer.’ Katie Flynn has lived in the northwest for over thirty years. A compulsive writer, she started with short stories and articles, many of which were broadcast on Radio Mersey. Her series of books based around Liverpool during the early parts of this century have won a tremendous following, and she is currently working on her seventh.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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