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chapter 002 - the thing about polly
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POLLY GRAY ALWAYS HAD A LOVE FOR ELLIE. Polly could recall the happy days when Ben would run around the streets with John, and Ellie would listen to the stories she told while sitting on her lap, a happy smile on her face as the girl's late mother brewed tea or prepared lunch. Even now, nearly a grown woman, Ellie never failed to remind Polly of those days, when the woman had children of her own.
The teenager was a bittersweet reminder of what no longer remained present in Polly's life. Sure, she had practically raised Tom, John and Arthur, but they weren't her children. They could never be her son and daughter, whom she cried for in the dark and loneliest hours of the night. But she persevered, and was always there for the Watson girl after the untimely death of her mother and father.
That's why Ellie wore a relieved look on her face when Polly opened the door to the main Shelby residence (and office), just a few feet away from her own home on Watery Lane. The woman smiled, but then commented, "You'll catch a draft in that old coat. Ought to get a new one."
Ellie looked down at her raggedy old jacket. It was her mother's, and once she had outgrown the one she wore as a small child, this was her only option. Her father couldn't sew or make enough to buy a new one. Besides, she liked wearing it, but Polly had a point; it was worn down, and did little when providing warmth. The teen shrugged. "I suppose. Is Arthur in?"
