He watched intently through the bannister at his parents below, locked in a furious argument, his mother rocking the baby back and forth. He didn't like it when his father shouted and he slapped his hands up against his ears to block out some of the sound. He didn't really know what they were discussing anyway, though the little baby didn't seem to care and silently he laid there, oblivious to the torrent around him.
"What's going on?" Lizzy whispered in his ear.
"Shh," he silenced her severely, his finger pressed tight to his lips as he tried to interpret his parent's squabble. She was only five so he definitely had seniority over her, being six.
"It's another mouth to feed!" he father fumed.
"Oh Frank! He's only little and he's still on milk!"
"But for how much longer?"
"Don't tell me we are on such hard times that we should have to give up our baby…"
"I am putting my foot down Hannah. He will do much better in service than sticking round 'ere and hanging on with the business after me and Francis."
Francis' ears pricked up at the mention of his name. His father was called Francis too, but everyone called him Frank. Francis liked that even though he shared his father's name he could lay claim to one that was actually entirely his. None of his classmates were called Francis. It was a family name and he had to be very proud of it.
"Fran-is where mummy?" his little sister Phyllis asked, also emerging from the nursery and popping her tiny head next to Lizzy's. Phyllis was only two, but she had recently been supplanted as the youngest in their household by the new baby.
Francis's new brother was a squalling, red-skinned little thing that looked to him to be very much like a goblin. He remembered Phyllis when she was born and she always looked like a little doll, but his new brother was noisy and squawked constantly. Francis didn't think he liked him very much. But now he was a bit worried because little John, who was always so loud and unpleasant, was silent beneath his parent's raised voices. Perhaps his father had hurt the little boy. He hoped not. Francis didn't much care for his new brother, but he wouldn't have liked to see him hurt, even if his father didn't want to feed him.
"Lizzy, we shall have to sneak to the kitchen tonight and get some food for John. Father is telling mother not to feed him and I am worried he will be hungry."
"But won't mother give him some milk?" his sister enquired.
"Yes, but when he gets bigger he will need grown-up food and Father said there is not enough. We should start collecting some now so that we can feed him."
"I think that's a silly idea," Lizzy told him with a huff.
"Well you are too fat anyway. You don't want the baby to starve do you?"
"I suppose not," she said glumly.
"Where mummy?" Phyllis asked again, even though she was looking directly at her through the bannister. Francis thought Phyllis may be stupid.
A few weeks later he received a good and proper hiding from Father, he and Lizzy both. They had been collecting food for when John got too big for milk and it had rotted away under the small floorboard in the nursery and caused an unpleasant stink. Francis couldn't sit down properly for days.
"What were you thinking dear one?" his mother had asked him whilst smoothing his hair affectionately after his beating had been served. He had taken Lizzy's punishment too as she was a girl, though her bed time was brought forward a whole hour to compensate.
"Well I do not want John to starve," he explained.
"And why on earth would John starve?" his mother asked him.
"Well Father said we may not have enough money to feed him, so I thought that if we collected a small part of our dinner every day, me and Lizzy, that we could gather enough so he wouldn't be hungry when he got too big for milk."
"And you heard Father say that?"
"Yes. When he was shouting. Is John going to be alright Mama? I don't like it when he cries, but I am his big brother after all."
"And you are a fine big brother to think so generously of John. But you needn't fret. Baby John won't go hungry and we will feed him the same as all of you when he is big enough."
"So we do have enough money to feed him?"
His mother looked worried suddenly and Francis held her hand to try and comfort her, but she smiled warmly at him, her green eyes so pretty and shiny in the lamplight.
"Well when he is older – much older mind you – we will likely have to give him up my dear. Five children is a lot for one family and one household, especially three sons. As parents it is our duty to make sure you all have the best lives you can and the business will be yours one day as you are the eldest. There will be nothing for Emlyn and John to inherit so they need to have different careers. Emlyn will likely go into the army and into your Uncle's regiment, but we cannot impose John on him too, it would not be fair."
"But where will we send him?" Francis enquired warily.
"Well your father recently delivered some coal to a Dragon covert in Scotland and has done a little business there. He has made an acquaintance of the Admiral and they are always looking for recruits there, so Father thinks we should send John to them, so he may train as an Aviator."
"With dragons?"
"Yes dear, with dragons."
"I would be scared to go live with the dragons," Francis told her.
"That is why I was arguing with your father. I think John would be scared too and I don't want him to be scared. I don't want any of my babies to be scared," she told him tenderly, kissing his hand.
"Well I am not a baby anymore," he told her authoritatively. "And when John is bigger I think the dragons will be more scared of him anyway, he screams so loud."
His mother laughed at that and wished him goodnight.