She was later than usual. School and her additional teaching instruction had finished over an hour ago. Kate closed the door behind herself quietly. She didn't want her mother to come greet her and see her. She had wiped her tears, but she knew her eyes were probably still red and she knew she could burst into tears again any second. 

She slipped up the stairs as quietly and swiftly as she could.

Lottie heard the door close. It was a small house, and their was precious little Lottie didn't hear where her home was concerned. Contrary to popular belief, this was her castle. It was too early for Bill and who knew where Joe was?

"Ruth? Is that ye?" No answer. Therefore by a process of elimination that even the Whitby police could manage, Lottie worked out that it was Kate who had arrived.

"Kate? Kate? Why don't you come and say 'ello to yer mam?"

Kate had just closed her bedroom door behind her and burst into tears again when she heard her mother call up the stairs. "I have so much work to do, mam!" she croaked, failing to keep her voice as steady as she wanted.

Lottie heard her daughter's muffled reply and to a mother's ears it sounded not quite right. Thank eons of motherly instinct passed down from woman to woman through the generations, or just fifteen years dealing with her daughter. Lottie had known when things were wrong with Kate when she still nursed her years before as a tot, so she knew when things were wrong now.

"Kate? Ye alright?" she asked halfway up the stairs.

Kate could hear her mother come up the stairs. Her mother knew.

She had wanted to hide her tears, because her mother had so much on her mind already. Kate didn't want to add to her worry or sorrow. She'd rather cry silently in her room and pretend all was fine. But she also wanted her mother's comfort, and now that her mother came up the stairs that desire won.

She opened her door. "Oh mam," she sobbed, reaching out for a hug.

The door opened and Lottie's heart ached as her youngest threw herself at her in desperate need of comfort. the tears, the puffy eyes, the reedy desperation in her voice.

"Oh Kate dear, what's the matter?" Lottie's arms gratefully accepted her offspring and she wrapped them around the girl's slight frame to protect her own. Lottie squeezed everso. Explanations would come shortly, but the girl needed love above all things in that moment.

Kate cried in her mother's arm for a moment, and then, still hugging her mother, she began: I... I went to see Anne, to see if she was alright. But she said..." A new flood of tears. Kate tried to compose herself enough to speak. "She said we can't be friends anymore."

Lottie drew breath sharply at the news. Kate and Anne were very good friends, their friendship went back a long way.

"There, there. It's alright." Lottie drew her daughter's head to her chest and stroked her hair. The dark curls were fine, if not slightly tangled. Lottie was trying to soothe the initial pain and shock with kind words and gentle gestures.

"Anne said ye couldn't be friends now?" Lottie scowled deeply "That doesn't sound like 'er.. ye two are like peas in a pod. Yer sure?"

Kate sniffed and tied to squeeze her arm in between her mother and herself to dry her tears. "'er father won't allow it. She's not to talk to me or come over anymore," she cried.

"Well I never.." If ever there were a man whose opinions or orders Lottie did not care for in the slightest, it was now Ben Ward. That man could take his edict, drop it into the deep part of the ocean, and practise fishing for it. Bill Blacke had at least earned the right for his opinion to be considered, before Lottie would decide what to do next herself.

"He's got no right to say that. Ye and she can see each other." Lottie said sharply. Yet, in her mind's eye, the memory of that man cuffing that poor child around the head replayed with terrible clarity. "But, we must be careful. We don't want Anne to get hurt. Her father has a temper. I love that poor dear as much as ye. I want to help her. What can we do?"