"Then you never truly knew me at all, Mister Shelby."
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"It's New Market tomorrow. Third busiest day of the year."
After an intense family meeting about the expansion of the business reaching new corners of England, Thomas and Polly had separated from everyone else to have their own little chat. Although, it seemed Polly was the only one asking the necessary questions which the Shelby leader had answered to each one calmly.
Sitting down at her desk, the Gray woman focused on the papers sat in front of her unfinished. Whilst Tommy stood by a safe trying on multiple accounts to get it open. Twisting the dial between his fingers, he voiced, "I have eighteen staff."
"Who you trust with two hundred quid takings?" Polly questioned without lifting her head from the work in front of her. Hearing a struggle from the right of her, she barely gave her nephew her attention as she nonchalantly quipped, "Oh, I changed the combination."
Stopping his movements, Tommy lifted his head in exasperation. Heaving a sigh, he waited for the dreadful conversation to begin. Resting his forearms against the top of the safe, Polly continued her writing as she questioned in a slow drawl, "So, what's going on, Thomas?"
The Gray woman knew her nephew. She knew he was keeping secrets about earlier events that had taken place that day. After finding a piece of Lettie's hat amongst the ash, Polly felt fear like no other. Of course she had, Lettie was a part of her family.
So when Thomas had informed her that the Morelli woman was in one piece she was more than relieved to hear that news.
Polly had maybe thought that was the reason he seemed so closed off. After months of not seeing each other since Lettie had went to America, Polly had noticed a change in Thomas' behavior. Although, that could have been the number one reason, the matriarch of the Shelby family knew there was more. When it comes to Thomas Shelby, there was always more.
Once again, Tommy was not having it. Not even paying any regards to her question, he simply stated with no stutter, "Give me the combination, Polly."
Not getting any response from his aunt, he sighed again before walking to stop and stand in front of the table she resided behind. Placing his fists on top of the table, Tommy forced out, "Polly. Give me the combination."
Standing her ground, Polly continued writing in a fast motion paying no mind to the impatient man a few feet from her. Seeing as though he was getting no where in the chat, Thomas stood up straight, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets. So, to get this show on the road, he started with the truth, "What happened to the pub is Irish business," Polly stopped her writing, and lifted her head to listen intently to his words, "We're in a situation where, for everyone's safety, it's best if some things remain undisclosed."
