[Arry]

Andwise leaned against Ferdy as he stumbled down the steps of the Inn. His foot caught on the edge of the last one as he stepped down to the graveled path, nearly sending him sprawling. Gil and Ferdy struggled to keep him upright as they maneuvered him to the cart Tomlin had brought round.

‘Here! Give us a hand,’ called Gil, motioning for Tomlin to reach down for the inebriated Hobbit. A bit of tugging from one with a great deal of pushing from the other two and Andwise was deposited in the seat, held up right by Tomlin until Ferdy climbed up to provide support.

His foot, in fact, was on the little step-up when Andwise, in a moment of soon passing clarity, opened one eye. Gazing at the Inn and then down at his son, he pushed Ferdy back, waving him away from the cart with a wobbly motion of his hand. ‘Nay laddie,’ Andwise managed, pulling himself upright in the seat. He pointed his tremulous finger at Gil standing next to his son. ‘Let yer friends here get the old man home.’ He cast a bloodshot eye at Tomlin and Gil, grinning as he did so. ‘Ye won’ mind, will ya laddies?’

‘Of course not!’ they both chimed, wanting to be helpful. ‘But Da,’ began Andwise.

‘Nay . . . nay . . . there’s someone waitin ta hear from ya, now. I’n’t there? The lads’ll get me home fine.’ He waved Ferdy back to the Inn. ‘G’wan now!’

Andwise’s voice trailed off. He was wedged in now between Gil and Tomlin, head resting against Gil’s shoulder, snoring faintly. Tomlin leaned across him and spoke to Ferdy. ‘We’ve got him. Don’t worry, both of us have had to put our Da’s to bed after a night or two of tipping the cup.’ He flicked the reins against the pony’s hindquarters. ‘Hurry,’ Gill called back to Ferdy as the cart rolled down the path. ‘You don’t want Cook handling your business, now do you?’