"No, it's not. I am his wife and therefor I am involved!" She cried out as she followed them into the room. Her arms crossed over her chest and she lifted her chin in defiance. "I will be heard."

Lottie folded her mending and stood up. She too got the first look at this Pearl. Very pretty, Joe had excellent taste. But she wasn't going to tell him that.

"I don't want te be a bad 'ost, Miss. Please 'ave a seat."

Lottie moved into the kitchen, and picked up her rolling pin.

"Yet father's waiting lad..." Lottie snapped.

"Ye will call her Mrs. Blacke, fer she's my wife. Her letter spoke truth. I told 'er we should go up North and be wed. She was alone, and I wanted to provide her with a home, a family, and love. Somethin' this house seems to 'ave forgot.."

Bill looked at Pearl. "Ye may be a princess where ye come from, Miss, but ye won't be makin' demands under this roof, and you!" He turned to Joe. "What do ye even know about marriage, eh? Ye don't even 'ave a job! What are ye thinkin', marryin' a lass when you cannot even support 'er?!"

"I am not a princess! You know nothing of me!" she sat down for some reason, probably because Mrs. Blacke seemed to at least be nicer to her. She looked down, "Joe, there is no use yelling... perhaps we can come back later when everyone has calmed down." She hated it, in fact.

Joe's accusation of an unloving home wounded Lottie deeply. It was only days ago, she had vainly tried to provide Anne Ward - in this very room - with the very love he said was missing. She was insensed, she wanted to batter him.

"If ye are married," she began pushing past all of them and scurrying upstairs to his room. There were clattering noises and the sound of drawers being opened "then you can't stay here. I wouldn't allow it"

Her arms full of clothes, she dashed into her room. There was a new sound, the upstairs window opening.

"Because." Out flung a pair of trousers. "I would hate to not provide..." Shirt and a jacket followed. A flurry of underwear "a lovin' home!" A shoe was hurled at the cobbles. A window slammed closed. A suitcase was thrown down the stairs.

Joe eyes followed his mother upstairs and his brow knit together in that universal state that seemed to question "What are ye doing?"  It was only when the first item of his clothes hit the street below with a soft thud did he realise.

"Mam! Have ye gone mad?" Joe shouted and rushed out into Osway Street. He began to hurriedly gather his things to keep this episode quiet.  That ship had not only sailed, but also sunk.  Joe saw more than one lace curtain flutter, but the more brazen of the neighbours were standing on their steps enjoying the show.

"Lottie?" Bill called out anxiously when Lottie ran upstairs looking and sounding like she was capable of setting the house on fire. "Lottie!" He ran upstairs, but halfway up he met the suitcase coming down. It hit him in the knee, provoking a litany of profanities from Bill.

So much for first impressions... She stared at the hubbub and had the urge to... laugh. If this was the most terrible she would have to deal with, then she would do just fine in Joe's family. She did not laugh, thankfully, she simply schooled her emotions so her face was perfectly neutral. Pearl also knew it was time to keep her mouth shut.

Joe was scurrying about Osway Street gathering his things, his cheeks red from embarrassment, eyes downcast. His arms full of clothes, he piled them on the steps and retrieved the suitcase.

"I'm not doin' yer washin'!" Lottie shouted at him.

"I didn't ask ye te." Joe fired back, roughly folding everything and shoving it in the case. He looked down at his other, 'best' pair of boots scuffed by the cobbles. He'd have to fix them. He apparently had to fix a lot of things. He tied the two separate boots together and set them aside. The suitcase wouldn't close on it's own, so Joe sat on it. It closed with bits of jacket and pants hanging out. Hopefully the latches would hold until they got to wherever he and Pearl were going next.