Claude sat at the pub below the room he was renting enjoying a needed meal after a day of traveling. It was hard for him to believe he was back in this town. After the first three months away he had basically decided never to return. But the consistent letters from his family made it impossible to forget. But he had promised himself never to return to that house. He had saved hopefully enough to find a small cabin somewhere, or a bit of land where he could build one.

His eyes kept drifting to the door, worried his father would make an unwanted appearance. But he was fairly sure the man was banned from this place... not that it had ever stopped him from trying. He had not told his family he was coming home and planned to keep it that way for as long as possible to avoid the confrontation with his father over his disappearance and lack of sending the man any of the income he made while he was away. The injury with his hand was probably the best thing that could have happened. After half a month of not being about to work because of it and the anger of that fact building within his father over it, Claude had jumped on a train and went looking for work he could do. After a while, in which time he almost succumbed to hunger, he found a man who took him in and trained him in finer furniture making. It was hard a first with his hand, but his skills kept the man interested and soon he was learning more about the task. And making a fair amount of money for it.

The man had no sons, and Claude had been invited to stay and take over the business. And he had been all so tempted.

But he had to sort out his own family first.

A Longbottom did enter the pub, but it wasn't Claude's father but Ruth, his little sister.

But if he didn't recognize her at once, he could not be blamed. Her dress was clearly a mended something-teenth-hand version of a wealthy woman's dress that had been fashionable twenty years ago. It wasn't very revealing, but on what was clearly a poor young woman, it was suggestive enough. Her black curls were up in a half bun and fell down over her shoulder. There were many strands of hair purposely left untied framing her face.

She did not order a drink, but walked further into the pub in Claude's direction. Her dark eyes had passed over him, but she had given no sign of recognition. As she walked, her hips swayed, bringing out her curves more clearly. She cast coy glances at men here and there. One of them shouted something vulgar at her, but rather than taking offence, she slipped into the seat next to him and began talking to him quietly. Her knee frequently touched his.