"Well, its better than kicking her out," said Bill, still being helpful.

She was still holding Anne's shoulders and turned her head sharply "Thank.... ye. Bill." Lottie said each word slowly emphasising her dear husband's need to stop being 'helpful'.

Bill's eyebrows knitted together. But he knew well enough how to read his wife's tone. "That's my view anyway," he muttered, and he turned round. Kate's had popped her head around the corner, her dark eyes watching Anne and her mother with sadness. "Come on, Kate, let's give 'em a moment," said Bill, leading his daughter back into the kitchen.

Anne sat on the stairs, curled in on herself. She never openly disobeyed her father and she was terrified of where her defiance would lead. There was no point. She would have to go home in the end. They needed her. She knew her father didn't mean bad. Perhaps if she went home penitent, admitting she had done wrong, and asked for forgiveness, he would calm down and all would be well again. But she couldn't get herself to move or say anything. She felt hot and cold and shivery and nauseous. She drew shaky breaths.

"Anne," Lottie spoke in a soft and soothing tone. "Yer safe, 'ere. Ye can talk to me." Maybe providing gentle and repeated reassurance would make her feel better, feel secure, feel loved.

"I h-have to go home in the end, M-mrs. Blacke..." the girl cried. "I might as well do it now, before I m-make it worse. I'm just being silly... I'm s-sorry..."

In that moment, Lottie had the genesis of an idea. It was an so mad, and yet so loving: To bring Anne Ward into her home and her family.  But she had only the vaguest notion of how to go about it. 

"Kate, dear, come keep Anne company.  I need to talk to yer father."

Closing the door to the kitchen, she spoke to her husband.

"Bill, I want to give that poor dear a home, a real one.  I helped Hannah bathe her as an infant, fer goodness sake; she needs a mother.  I can't stand to see a girl treated so.  The Wards only want that girl fer her money. If ye only saw her buying that uniform of hers, Bill, ye would have been proud. So happy, so beautiful, her back was straight.. We don't know when or if Joe will be back, so we've a spare bed going."

So here it was then. Joe's idiotic behaviour had been the final stroke and his wife had finally lost his mind. Like a mother cat that had lost her kittens, Lottie was desperate to nurse anyone's young.

Bill sat back, sighed and shook his head slowly. "Lottie, we can't do that. The lass has a home of 'er own, whatever Ben Ward may 'ave told 'er in a moment of anger. 'E may be lookin' fer 'er already. We'll talk to 'im in t' mornin'. Ye'r upset about all this stuff with Joe. But 'e'll be back tomorrow, ye'll see, if not tonight."

"Don't ye patronise me, William Blacke! I know she has a 'ome of 'er own, but it's bloody crap. Of course it is, it's run by men. I wouldn't even need to do this if it were halfway decent. You men don't know the first thing about raising a family, what children need. You and your kind couldn't mother your way out of a church knitting circle."

Definitely mad. Bill put his fingers on his brow. "Crap or not, it is her home," he said calmly. "So unless Ben Ward is cruel to his bairns, that's where she should go. We 'ave enough to deal with as it is, Lottie."