The boy's rudeness made Bill's nostril's flare. At least Lottie supported him at last. "No," he said sharply. "Ye should have tended to her, and then groveled to the snotty prat, and then you would've still had yer job!"

"I grovel to no man." Joe said defiantly.

"Well, then you're in for a tough life!" William snapped.

"Better that than no life!" Joe shouted.

Lottie snapped. "Both of ye, stop." she shouted loudly.

"Joe. Sit." That was not a request. "And You-" she pointed a serving spoon in the direction of her husband. "Sit." she commanded him. He was her husband, but she controlled the purse strings, the soup ladle, and the lock on the front door.

Bill opened his mouth, but his wife was quicker. He wanted to tell her he didn't take orders from her - even though he often did - but she waved that spoon at him rather dangerously, and so he pulled a chair out rather noisily and sat down with a surly expression, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yer a bloody disgrace!" he told his son.

"Good. If yer finished arguing like fish gutters, yer'll listen to me." Lottie put her hands on her hips, the spoon pointing skyward like a weapon.

"Joe, yer an idiot. Not for standin' up for the lass, of that you can be proud. No, but for fillin' up with liquor. I mean, honestly. If ye had just come home and told me, it would 'ave been alright. Instead I have to hear... it... in court from the bloody magistrate. My son in the dock! The shame of it! John was willful, but you..."

she wagged her spoon.

"Get drunk once more young man, and you will never set foot in this house again. I promise ye."

Without waiting to see if her son agreed or understood, she turned her anger toward her husband.

"And you... 'a bloody disgrace'.. you of all people, William Blacke, can talk about being a disgrace. You were a young man once, and you did a lot worse than get pickled like a herrin'. I know. Show some compassion, if you're able, and stand up fer yerself and others against what ye know to be wrong."

She breathed out and smoothed out her apron. Her eyes darted between the two men daring either of them to say a word other than "yes mam or yes dear."

"Now, who wants some tea?"

He had learned that his son had been sacked and gotten in trouble with the law. He had revisited the inside of a cell. He had barely slept, and then he had been in that court room that made him sick to the stomach. He had been on edge even before this argument had started, and Lottie's mere hint at what she didn't say was the spark that set off the dynamite. 

"Don't!" he thundered and he rose with such force that his chair fell back, while he slammed his hand down on the table.

He had told her once, because she had to know, and but had not accepted any questions about details and had told her never to mention it or ask about it again. This mere hint in front of Joe...

He breathed heavily. He was furious and yet ashamed of his own reaction. He turned and marched out of the room, fled the house.

Still reeling from the outburst, Lottie's face twisted into anger.

"Away with ye!" she shouted at the disappearing figure of her husband. She threw her spoon after him to hasten his departure. It clattered against the wall. This seemed to drain her and she slumped down into a chair.

Bewilderment and confusion at what had just happened paralysed Joe, but the sight of his mother slumped in a chair, snapped him back to the present and in to action. Rising gently from his chair, he made his way to crouch at her side.

"Mam, I'm sorry. I truly am." he said quietly. It was too early to ask for forgiveness. He ran a hand across her apron. He looked across and Kate had magically reappeared.

"Here's your spoon" she said softly, offering up the implement like a culinary olive branch.