"Kitchen. Now." Lottie ordered. She pointed with her hand, the other holding a small lamp that cast a tiny pool of warm white light on her flowing red hair and cheap nightdress. Assuming compliance with her order, she followed her husband and closed the door behind her. No sense in waking the entire house.. yet.

"Sit." Another command. Right.

"William Patrick Blacke. Ye are a feckin' disgrace.. fallin' back on yer criminal past I see - No, I'm not finished yet.. I know ye fought Angus McCloed, the Sargeant told me yesterday," Lottie snarled. She circled the outskirts of the room like some sort of wild animal cornering its prey. She pounced. It was just unfortunate that it was her husband. Still he signed up for this when he married her.

"Yer a grown bloody man near 50 year old... Ye should know better. brawlin' in the street. Joe or John I'd expect this from, but ye.." Lottie roared, veering away from her husband. Everyone was up now. Probably most of Osway Street heard too "Yer all brainless kids' tryin' ta prove whose tougher or whose got the biggest prick!" She thundered. Spitle flew from her mouth.

"Fer Gawd's sake is there not a man in this family who isn't a complete feckin' idiot!?" She raged, unleashing her fury on her husband. "First Joe, then ye.. I gaurentee whatever John does'll land him on the front bloody page of the gazette. When will ye pillicocks stop and think about us!? Me and Pearl and Kate and Ruth. Ye stupid, selfish, bastards. All of ye."