“You don’t drink, Mother,” Albert replied vehemently. “And you’ve got worries just like he has and, anyway, if you did drink, you wouldn’t yell at me like he does. I do all the work I can, and more, and still he never stops complaining that this isn’t done and that isn’t done. He complains every time I take Joey out in the evening. He doesn’t even want me to go off bell-ringing once a week. It’s not reasonable, Mother.”

“I know that, Albert,” his mother said more gently now, taking both his hands in hers. “But you must try to see the good in him. He’s a good man—he really is. You remember him that way, too, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mother. I remember him like that,” Albert acknowledged, “but […] Joey works for his living now and he has to have time off to enjoy himself, just like I do.”