Mary Olivier: A Life · Book IV · Chapter XX · Chapter 20 12

“Roddy, I wish you’d go and see where your father is.”

Roddy looked up from his sketchbook. He had filled it with pictures of cavalry on plunging chargers, trains of artillery rushing into battle, sailing ships in heavy seas.

Roddy’s mind was possessed by images of danger and adventure.

He flourished off the last wave of battle-smoke, and shut the sketchbook with a snap.

Mamma knew perfectly well where Papa was. Roddy knew. Catty and Maggie the cook knew. Everybody in the village knew. Regularly, about six o’clock in the evening, he shuffled out of the house and along the High Row to the Buck Hotel, and towards dinnertime Roddy had to go and bring him back. Everybody knew what he went for.

He would have to hold Papa tight by the arm and lead him over the cobblestones. They would pass the long bench at the corner under the Kendals’ wall; and Mr. Oldshaw, the banker, and Mr. Horn, the grocer, and Mr. Acroyd, the shoemaker, would be sitting there talking to Mr. Belk, who was justice of the peace. And they would see Papa. The young men squatting on the flagstones outside the “Farmer’s Arms” and the “King’s Head” would see him. And Papa would stiffen and draw himself up, trying to look dignified and sober.

When he was very bad Mamma would cry, quietly, all through dinnertime. But she would never admit that he went to the Buck Hotel. He had just gone off nobody knew where and Roddy had got to find him.

August, September and October passed.