It was Friday evening and Harry sat in the yard, studying a cart that had a wheel to be mended. His wife had managed to find the money box and now lay sleeping next to their bed. He needed help to lift the cart and could have asked any of the children, but it was Claude who was out, and so Harry rather sat here getting worked up over the fact that his eldest son was not there to help, than ask anyone else.

Claude made his way up the walkway to his house, annoyed by his one break being destroyed by Mr Ward. Why was it so hard to understand that he didn't want to get married? No girl had ever given him the interest in it being a possibility, especially Rose. Nothing against her, but she was more of annoying sister.

Walking through the gate, he noticed his father siting in a cart causing him to pause in his step for a moment. Bugger...

"Father" he said upon approach.

Harry stood up. He had waited long. "Where have you been? This cart needs fixin' before t' mornin' and it's almost dark."

"I'll do it" he responded, keeping the annoyance from his voice. It's not like he started working before he sun had risen or anything. "I was talking to Mr Ward" he answered the question while heading for his toolbox.

"Oh you were in the pub, weren't you?" He accused. He wasn't quite done yet. "What you think yer doin' ? I need ye to lift the cart."

“Mr Ward doesn’t drink” he replied but otherwise silently went and lifted the cart.

Content warning: verbal abuse

Harry knelt down to inspect the wheel, but he barely paid attention. Nor did he listen to Claude. "Goin' after yer worthless mother, you..."

Claude said nothing, instead shallowing the lump in his throat and lifting the cart slightly higher.

"Harry studied the cart. "Higher."

Claude gritted his teeth and lifted it higher once more.