Gill returned home to find his mother preparing dinner, as she had done every night for as long as he could remember. A pot was hung over the fire filling the air with a familiar sweet smell. His mother, each week, would buy a small chicken from the market, and sparingly use pieces each day. She would slowly boil the thin slices in water with vegetables to form their staple diet of pottage. The vegetables; onions, cabbage, leeks or spinach were grown in their small garden, and she would add, for extra taste, berries, nuts, garlic, or any other herb that she would collect on covert outings to the forest. The food was not extravagant, but Etienne felt comforted by its simplicity, and the family never went hungry. Their usual places had been set at the table, centered by some bread and a chipped clay carafe of water. Dinnertime was seen as an important part of the day for Etienne’s family. It was when they could all sit together and tell stories of their day. On special occasions, birthdays or holidays, Arlette would treat the house to salted pork or even a capon or goose.
“Good evening mother, something smells good,” said Gill as he entered the house. Unfortunately on this night Gill’s pleasure at seeing his mother was lost when he noticed that the table had been set with four places. Gill knew this meant Beni would be joining them. He hated him. He hated the way he spoke to his mother, the way he would tease his uncle. Gill could handle the way he treated him as he could stand up for himself, he didn’t care what Beni thought, but the way he treated his mother and uncle was unfair. For some inexplicable reason his mother felt that having Beni in their house gave them protection and brought in extra, needed money. In truth all he actually did was drink and gamble his money, and bring unwanted unrest to their home. Gill’s mother was a strong woman, a woman of intelligence and dignity; quite how he had attached himself to her life Gill couldn't understand.
“Hello son how was our day?" replied Arlette. "Wash your hands, dinner is almost ready,” Gill made his way over to the bowl of clean water that sat on a small table by the back door and rinsed his hand and face, his posture depicting his annoyance at the unwanted guest due for dinner.
“I’m fine thanks mother,” replied Gill as he dried his face on his tunic. “How about you uncle? How has your day been?”
“I’ve b b been to market with your mother. Sh Sh She sold a dress today.”
Gill’s uncle speech had never developed very well. He would often need to take a few attempts to complete his sentences. He was blessed with the intelligence of his sister, and also her looks, but socially he found it difficult to interact with large groups. This meant he rarely ventured from their home, and would only leave to help his sister on her stool, and tend to their vegetable patch.
“Did you mother? That’s fantastic news, looks like we might be having goose again soon then,” replied Gill, the good news a slight reprieve from the imminent wretchedness that was soon to enter their home.
“I know, ten ducats I got for the dress too,” said Arlette as she continued to stir the pottage, busily flitting from the fire to the table like an expectant moth. “She was a noble lady, very impressed with my stitching. Lived in the castle. Her husband was one of the king’s vassals. Maybe I’ll get that goose for tea tomorrow.”
“You keep your money mother, treat yourself. Nothing could beat your chicken stew anyway,” said Gill as he walked over to his mother, leaning over her shoulder and giving her a kiss on the cheek.
“You are a good boy Gill,” Arlette replied as she turned and gave her son a hug. “Sit yourself down and have your dinner. You’re getting so big I’m going to have to get a bigger plate for you soon.”
The moment was broken by their front door being swung open, pieces of lathe falling off the wall as the wooden door handle embedded itself. Beni came falling through the door, his flushed portly face a clear sign of the amount of wine that he had already consumed. His angry bloodshot eyes an instant warning that he had not come offering well wishes. Beni stumbled over to the fire and bent down to smell the food that was in the pot.
“Pottage again. Is there nothing else you can cook woman?” Arlette turned to look at Gill and gave him a look that he had become used to. It was her, ‘ignore him Gill, I’m fine, he’s drunk again’ look. “Don’t turn your back at me woman,” Beni stumbled across the living room floor in the direction of Arlette falling into the table, knocking the plates to the floor, and Gill’s uncle from his chair. His uncle began picking up the plates and putting them back on the table. “Look at him crawling around the floor like the rat he his,” snarled Beni at Gill.
“Why don’t you leave him alone,” said Gill, the blood in his body beginning to pump around his face, his legs tingling with fear and anticipation, his fists clenched so tight it felt that his fingernails would draw blood on his palms. He had taken about as much as he was going to.
“What’s it got to do with you?” Beni replied as he lunged forward trying to poke Gill in the chest with his finger. Gill moved out of the way quickly and Beni stumbled forward grabbing hold of the wall to regain his footing.
“Leave him alone Beni,” Arlette was trying to calm the situation, but it had already gone beyond the point of reconciliation, “sit down and have your supper.”
“I don’t want to eat this swill, and I certainly don’t want to sit down at a table with you, or any of your pathetic family,” Beni replied spinning around the room pointing at Gill and his mother and uncle.
“Well why don’t you leave then?” said Gill. He wanted this pig out of his family’s house now.
“I told you to keep out of it.” Beni’s angry eyes were getting redder and redder. Gill could sense that he was about to attack. Although Beni had the height and weight advantage, Gill was angry, and he knew he had the speed and could easily get the better of him, especially in the state he was in.
“Please Beni, please sit down,” begged Arlette.
“S s stop Beni your upsetting Arlette,” Sebastian pleaded, as he came to the defence of his elder sister.
Beni turned, disbelief in his eyes that Sebastian should challenge him. “Who do you think you are, you pathetic stuttering little pig? Who are you to tell me what to do?” Beni lunged at Sebastian and graded him around the throat. Arlette tried to pull Beni’s arm from her brother’s neck but he swept her to the ground with his spare hand. Gill had seen enough, he pulled his right arm back and let fly with all the power he had in his body. He caught Beni perfectly on the chin. Beni wasn’t expecting it, and the punch took the red out of his eyes as they rolled back into his head and a tooth flew from his mouth. Gill stood back, his legs shaking at what he had done, and watched as the strength visibly began to leave Beni’s body. He wobbled like a giant oak as a woodcutter takes his final blow to its trunk, and then haplessly Beni fell. As he fell he grappled around aimlessly trying to find something to hold him upright but all he found was the edge of the table on which sat a bowl that Arlette had laid out for supper. His legs finally went and Gill, Sebastian and Arlette watched as he toppled to the floor. What Gill didn’t notice was that Beni had not let go of the bowl on the table, and as he fell he swung the arm round that was holding it and hit Gill across the face. The bowl shattered sending shards of hard clay across the room.
“Gill are you alright, you’ve been cut?” screamed Arlette. Gill slowly raised his hand to his cheek and he could feel a warm trickle of blood from a cut on his cheek. Gill pulled out a chair from the table and sat down. He could taste the thick droplets as they started to run into his mouth. Gill looked down to see Beni sprawled on the floor unconscious.
“I’m fine mother, it is just a cut.”
Arlette took Gill’s face in her hands in order that she could look at the cut more closely, and started to cry. Sebastian stood up from the floor and walked over to Gill and Arlette, he pulled his sister and nephew into his arms. They looked down at the sad heap of a man that lay on the floor by their feet. The relief flooded from them on the crest of their tears.
“Now let’s get rid of this drunkard,” said Gill. Arlette, Sebastian and Gill couldn’t take their eyes off the mess that was laid on their floor for fear that he might move, but Beni’s had meet his match. They began to laugh. They laughed until their cheeks ached, until they had picked Beni up and carried him out of their home, out of their lives. Arlette and Sebastian took a leg each and Gill lifted Beni’s top half. Gill could still smell the sobering odour of alcohol of Beni’s breath as they carried him from the house. They opened their front door and dumped him on the street outside.
The following morning Arlette nervously opened their front door half expecting to see Beni still there lying on the muddy street, but he was gone. Gill smiled at his mother as they stood in the doorway and she smiled back relief and pride visible in her face. For the next week Gill kept a close eye on his mother and uncle. He knew that he had scared Beni off, but also that it wouldn’t be long before he got drunk again and might make the mistake of coming back to his mother’s door, either for reconciliation or retribution. The three of them would go to market together each day, and come home together in the evening. Gill was desperate to get back to his favourite place at his tree, to get a bit of time to himself. After two weeks without any sign of Beni, Arlette said. “Why don’t you go out and spend some time with your friends, we’ll be alright. He’s not coming back.”
Gill begrudgingly agreed, and after they had packed up the market stool for the day, and he had walked them home he made his exit, back to the familiar hole in the city wall.