In her worry about Joe, there were only so many times Lottie could clean the house.  At least Bill could go work.  But there was one thing to which Lottie could channel her righteous anger, and that was the neglect of poor Anne Ward by her family.  The fiasco in the dress shop had served to underline just how badly that family had failed in their duty of care for such a sweet soul. The threat of a rolling pin had quieted dissent in the Blacke household to providing what Anne Ward lacked. The poor dear seemed to carry the whole emotional weight of her family.  The Wards seemed to have nothing but cockle shells between their ears.

With the battered child’s corset hidden in a basket, Lottie made her way to the Cragg to say her piece to the Wards.

The weather was too poor to go out fishing that morning, but there was always work to be done. Anne was away to her first day as a maid - something Ben seemed even more nervous about than Anne herself -, Bram was at school, Will had been sent out to get supplies, and Ben sat in their home, making a new fishing line. The line had been tarred, the snoods cut, and now he was attaching the hooks to the snoods, moving the work as far away from his face as he could. He didn't have the eyes for this anymore. Still, he worked on steadily as as fast as his old eyes and sore fingers allowed him, quietly singing "Jesus, lover of my soul," to himself, and unaware of the approaching storm and potential encounter with a rolling pin.

Lottie wasn't sure how she would open this conversation but as she got closer, her expression soured. She was not happy. The familiar sights and smells of the Cragg soon appeared.

Being inside, Ben did not see her approach. He move to a different hymn while he worked on.

Lottie saw the odd face she remembered, but did not stop for a friendly chat. She merely marched right up to the Ward's door and knocked loudly. She caught sight of her old home across the yard, but now wasn't the time for rememberances. Lottie knocked again.

Ben looked up rather startled at the aggressive knocking. Not the police again, was it? He put his work down and rose. "Comin' alright!" he shouted when there was another knock.

"Lottie!" he said, all surprised, when he opened the door. "That's been a while. Is everythin' alright? Come in."

"No, Ben Ward, everythin' is not alright." She said loudly barging into the room

"Shame on you!" Lottie fished Anne's old corset from her basket and hurled it to the floor among the fishing parafinalia she too recognised from her youth.

Ben stepped away and looked at the unidentified object on the floor. He closed the door for he suspected there was going to be shouting, though he still wasn't sure what was going on. "What's that?"

"And there's the problem!" Lottie began. Why did she have to explain everything? Men. "That, Ben Ward is a corset! A child's corset, your child Anne's corset. Did ye not know she needed a new one? Ye sent her off ta do women's work in girl's clothes. What kind of a father are ye!?"

Ben slowly walked back to his chair and sat down, frowning. "Eh... Lottie, I had no idea."