Oh Henry!

Chapter Ten. Destination Unknown.

Chapter Ten 

Destination Unknown 

I knew something was wrong when my Dad didn't arrive in time for supper that Friday evening. Friday was payday and it was the one day of the week when he insisted that the whole family eat the evening meal together. Invariably, after dessert on such occasions, he would reach into the upper pocket of his overalls, remove his pay packet, and waft it theatrically in the air. 

"Now what have we here?" 

He then would stand and walk imperiously around the table. 

"One shilling for Henry; and the silver coin would be placed alongside my empty pudding dish. 

"A threepenny bit for you Marie." She would get a shilling when she started school. 

"And three pounds fifteen shillings for you, Mum." 

The amounts never varied and I never knew if there was any money left in the envelope. Dad revelled in this little piece of ceremonial. Something must have happened for him to miss. 

"I wouldn't worry too much, son. Maybe something big has come up at the shipyard. They may be behind schedule and Dad has been asked to work a bit of overtime."  

I wasn't convinced. Mum had that anxious look about her. 

As usual after supper, I linked up with Rev and P.C. and joined the older boys for an exhausting game of "relevo." This lasted until the nine o'clock curfew. A steaming bowl of bread and hot milk, sweetened with a little sugar, awaited my return, but still there was no Dad.  

I had been dozing fitfully for about an hour, when I heard the backyard door slam. I rushed to my window, and saw my father staggering down the path to the kitchen door. There was a brief silence. The thick stonewalls of the house partially muffled the sounds from downstairs but not enough to hide the increasing noise as an argument festered. I had never known my parents to have a harsh word. Now they were literally screaming at each other. Suddenly there was a loud crash as if furniture had been overturned, and then the sound of breaking china. This was enough to bring Marie scurrying to my room. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she jumped into bed beside me. Together we huddled under the eiderdown, listening to the rampage below. Together we waited for the storm to subside. Eventually it did, to the sound of uncontrolled sobbing and the murmurs of an apologetic father.  

The next morning, Marie and I, normally early birds, did not attempt to go downstairs, fearful of what we might encounter. However, the bedroom door eventually squeaked open and the tear stained face of mother peered around the edge. 

"Henry, Marie, it's time to get up now. Dad's waiting for you in the kitchen. He has something to tell you." 

I had never seen my father looking so terrible or so sombre. His face was ashen, dark rings circled his eyes and his scanty hair was completely dishevelled.  

"I've been given the sack." 

There was a pause. 

"Do you know what that means, Henry?" 

I knew what a sack was, but I could think of no obvious reason why such an item would be given as a gift, so I shook my head. 

"It means I have lost my job. Do you know what that means?" 

"No more pocket money," I gulped. 

"No money for anything, Henry. Nothing until I find another job."