It Was Only Supposed to Be Business

Polly's Words

Trigger warning: Mentions of abuse.

With Charles Darcy lurking throughgh alleys and gutters, waiting to find me with my guard down, Small Heath, the barbaric land of Birmingham, became my safe spot. My heart longed to be home, in my own room and bed, but my disturbed brother Jack was still in town, acting as if he owned the dusty streets of Yardley. My mother advised me to stay with the Blinders, primarily since she had heard that Jack had become a member of the nasty Sabini Gang. I didn't know what that meant or who Sabini was, but Polly said I was to avoid Jack at all costs.

Most days, I didn't comprehend why or how I got out of bed. The hard morning rain would pelt the window, and the smog and fog would blur the buildings and industries in the distance. I spent my mornings quiet and alone in Tommy's room, watching my tea get cold with no motivation to drink it. I felt as if my head was screwed on backwards, and I only wanted to creep back into the comforting sheets of Tommy's bed and pull them over my head, but I didn't. Every morning, Polly banged on my door with a list of simple tasks for me to do in the betting den. Of course, I didn't want to let down the woman that took me into her home and offered me her protection.

"Adeline! Did you count this right?" Polly asked as she waved me over into her office. I didn't think I had made a mistake, but all morning, my mind was a nest of frazzled wires, and I couldn't untangle them. A cup of tea, a swig of whiskey, or a fresh cigarette could not help me escape the fog and chaos in my head.

"Uhh, I can't be certain," I fumbled, rapidly twisting the ring on my index finger. I knew if Polly wanted to speak to me in private, it wasn't good news. I had seen her take charge of the family business and put the men in their place. She would rip me to shreds if these numbers were wrong.

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again," I quickly stammered, hoping she would forgive me and let me go, but it was wishful thinking. The moment Polly's dark eyes met mine, my throat closed, and I felt like a nervous recruit standing in front of a military captain. Polly scanned my eyes for an answer- an explanation rather than an apology, but I didn't have one. The wires in my head felt like they had caught on fire. I couldn't find other words or expressions to offer her. Just as I thought she was about to give me the boot, she sat me down, noticing the defeat on my face. With the door firmly shut, Polly's words slightly drifted down a road I didn't want to take.

"You know, Adeline, my hapless fate brought me to a man like Charles Darcy," Polly began, keeping her voice soft and low. I felt my eyebrows lift with surprise. I hadn't expected her to share something so personal, yet her tone told me that this man brought her much pain. I wanted to apologize, but instead, I sunk into my chair, trying to grasp every word that escaped her lips.

"He forced himself upon me to feel big and strong," I tried to wrap my head around the image her words were painting in my head, but all I saw was Charles hovering over me, making me feel small and weak. It was like I was forced against the wall again with his hands bound to my neck. If it weren't for the roars of the betters in the den, I would have relived the entire moment.

"What are you saying, Polly?" I mumbled, keeping my eyes plastered in my trembling lap. Even though I wanted to meet her eyes with mine, I wouldn't dare look at her with the agonizing tears in my vision. Polly was an integral member of the Shelby Family, and tears were kept out of business and the betting den.

"I'm saying, I, too, was once made to feel small and weak." The instant the words small and weak hit the air, my eyes trailed to her face. I was suddenly brave enough to face her dead in the eyes and let my pain unmask itself. What she was saying was starting to click in my head.

"Give me your hands, Adeline." I didn't have a choice. Before I knew it, Polly clasped my hands in hers and closed her eyes. I didn't question what she was doing. With a few deep breaths, it was as if she travelled into every nook and cranny of my mind and saw my entire life before her eyes. Whatever she saw and felt was enough for her to glare at me with an unsettling and alarming look. Was there something wrong with me? What was it that she saw or felt in me?