They can all hear how the house is cracking, wherever the sound may be coming from. It is now quite still round the table. The arrow polisher dare not say a word. He can see that the children are outraged about Mary’s father. Mary is their closest companion at school, so he can imagine what it has been like at school today. He had not known about this. It tells him yet again that he is not in the know, that he is excluded because of his work.

Frank turns back to him, savage with grief for Mary, for whom he has such affection: ‘So you don’t hear anything! What are you made of, Father?’

Freda is frightened by her brother’s anger but she can say nothing, only look imploringly at Frank to get him to stop, which he understands and lets himself be persuaded.

The arrow polisher says fumblingly, ‘That’s bad news.’

He realizes how impossible it must sound in their ears, quite worthless. He gets up quickly. ‘Thank you, Freda.’

He must try to look as if he cannot swallow another mouthful. Perhaps it’s true too. And it is effective. Frank and Freda look at each other enquiringly.

This is an outburst. Normally Frank and Freda just look at their father, unable to speak about their worries. They cannot attack him and complain about his work. They have been used to accepting things from him since they were small, used to his concern for them and for their security and welfare. He worked hard at an office for as many years as they can remember, bringing home all his earnings to Mother, bringing food and clothing and special presents for their few celebrations, without forgetting once.

Nothing had stood between them.

But then, when the darkness fell and the gilded arrows began streaming through everything – then things changed in this home too. Frank and Freda could not understand why. Their father came home one day and told them that he had been given a new and much better paid job: he was going to polish the shining arrows and signposts that had been put up.

Frank and Freda’s hearts sank. They were old enough to pick up all the gossip: what you ought to do and what you ought not to do, if you belonged to the house.

Frank asked, astounded, ‘Are you going to polish the arrows for them?’

‘Yes!’ he replied, his eyes glowing after the conversation he had just had with the gilded people.

‘But nobody will do that,’ said Frank. ‘I’ve often heard them say so.’

‘I have too,’ said Freda. ‘Everyone at school says so. The teachers say so as well. Nobody is to do that, they say…’

‘That’s why I’m going to do it,’ interrupted her father proudly. ‘Because no one should let himself be threatened and pushed around by stupid assertions it’s the fashion to toss about. That could very likely destroy the house. Such antagonism! We’d do better to collaborate a little and get to know one another. That’s what I’m in favour of, whatever it costs me. I want to do something for the house. And now I’ve been given the opportunity, since I’ve agreed to polish arrows.’