During the last few weeks ever since he had been engaged on the decoration of the drawing-room, Owen had been so absorbed in his work that he had no time for other things. Of course, all he was paid for was the time he actually worked, but really every waking moment of his time was given to the task. Now that it was finished he felt something like one aroused from a dream to the stern realities and terrors of life. By the end of next week, the inside of the house and part of the outside would be finished, and as far as he knew the firm had nothing else to do at present. Most of the other employers in the town were in the same plight, and it would be of no use to apply even to such of them as had something to do, for they were not likely to take on a fresh man while some of their regular hands were idle.
For the last month he had forgotten that he was ill; he had forgotten that when the work at “The Cave” was finished he would have to stand off with the rest of the hands. In brief, he had forgotten for the time being that, like the majority of his fellow workmen, he was on the brink of destitution, and that a few weeks of unemployment or idleness meant starvation. As far as illness was concerned, he was even worse off than most others, for the greater number of them were members of some sick benefit club, but Owen’s ill-health rendered him ineligible for membership of such societies.
As he walked homewards after being paid, feeling unutterably depressed and weary, he began once more to think of the future; and the more he thought of it the more dreadful it appeared. Even looking at it in the best possible light—supposing he did not fall too ill to work, or lose his employment from some other cause—what was there to live for? He had been working all this week. These few coins that he held in his hand were the result, and he laughed bitterly as he thought of all they had to try to do with this money, and of all that would have to be left undone.
As he turned the corner of Kerk Street he saw Frankie coming to meet him, and the boy catching sight of him at the same moment began running and leapt into his arms with a joyous whoop.
“Mother told me to tell you to buy something for dinner before you come home, because there’s nothing in the house.”
“Did she tell you what I was to get?”
“She did tell me something, but I forget what it was. But I know she said to get anything you like if you couldn’t get what she told me to tell you.”
“Well, we’ll go and see what we can find,” said Owen.
“If I were you, I’d get a tin of salmon or some eggs and bacon,” suggested Frankie as he skipped along holding his father’s hand. “We don’t want anything that’s a lot of trouble to cook, you know, because Mum’s not very well today.”
“Is she up?”