"Yer a good daughter." Lottie said hugging her youngest. Right now Kate was the favourite child. "Yer sweet, kind, helpful, and ye support yer family. Even if they are foolish. No, never lose that."

Kate hugged her mother, but although she was glad with the praise, she felt bad about being compared. She wished that her siblings were good.

"Dad's out lookin' fer Joe." she tried to comfort her mother further. It wasn't exactly the words her father had used, but she didn't care to repeat those.

"Good." At least he wasn't sitting downstairs waiting for someone to feed him or draw him a bath, like some overgrown babe, but Lottie kept that particular thought to herself.

Kate smiled. "I'll go finish me lesson fer tomorrow. But tell me if ye need owt. I'm sure da' and Joe will be home soon." And with those comforting words, she left.

But neither Bill nor Joe returned home soon. Bill did finally return, a few hours later, smelling of beer and smoke.

Lottie smiled at her daughter and sent her on her way. When she heard the key in the lock, Lottie moved quickly to the top of the stairs. It was only Bill.

"No luck with Joe then?" she asked. It'd be too easy for him to be in the bar at the Red Lion but, she kept that thought to herself too.

"No..." Bill muttered. "E's not back yet, then?" He leaned against the wall.

"No. Maybe he really has gone up to Scarborough or Teeside to look fer work?"

"E would 'ave told us." He sat down on the stairs. "I tried t' police station. At least 'e wasn't there."

But then, if Joe had been in a brothel while a man got shot, he could be anywhere doing anything right now.

Unsure of what to do with herself, Lottie came downstairs and started to tidy up. Kate, bless her, had cleaned up most of the debris from Lottie's earlier fit of peak, leaving Lottie to potter. She opened the tiny draw of a salvaged end table that served as a place to store important odds and ends. Buttons to be sewn, threadlets, a handy pencil, etc. There were also a few personal treasures too: a small round painting, about the size of a tea saucer, of a girl in a meadow - very pastoral. Lottie moved it aside, there was Elias' sailing knife from Saint-e-a-go or so Lottie remembered. Joe was very fond of that knife. Lottie recalled having to prevent baby Joe from playing with it countless times.