The Hanging Noose

Four

Polly had insisted on taking the brother and sister duo back to Small Heath later that evening. She had wanted them to meet the family properly. She had also rung up her niece, Ada, as well as her nephews, telling them all to meet them at the Garrison for eight. She had told Dottie and Micheal what the plans were for the evening, and surprisingly Dottie was excited. Micheal eyed her, knowing it was probably excitement of having some alcohol giving her a buzz rather than the excitement of meeting her family.

At half seven, she had called Dottie down from her bedroom. She had smiled when she saw her daughter, her hair perfectly styled and pinned, her face dotted and smeared with makeup, her lips painted a cherry red colour. She looked stunning, in Polly's opinion.

Polly met her at the bottom of the stairs, grinning at her daughter, who she then had showered with compliments. Micheal had half scoffed as Dottie skipped out of the house, Polly slightly worried on why her daughter was so happy however she put her daughters mood down to her nap earlier on and the news of meeting another cousin.

The ride back to Small Heath wasn't long. Dottie looked out the window in the front passenger seat beside Polly, Polly spoke aimlessly to the pair of siblings, telling them all about her niece and nephews.

When the Bentley was parked, Dottie had jumped out the car, looking up at the large dark pub in front of her. She frowned, looking between Micheal and Polly.

"This is it?" She asks, her opinion being loud and clear through her voice.

Polly locks up the car as she chuckles, "you wait until you're inside."

"It's nothing special," Micheal says to Dottie making her groan, "just a pub."

"With a lot of gold," Polly adds before she takes hold of Dottie's elbow, linking her arm in her daughters arm.

The pair walk in, with Micheal following behind. Dottie had no clue what to expect, however she was surprised when she saw the large chandelier hang from the middle of the ceiling. The large pub is buzzing with people, glowing with conversations and drink. Dottie's surprise deepened when she saw smaller chandeliers hanging above the bar. Polly nudges her elbow softly in to Dottie's side.

"It didn't always look like this," Polly says, noticing how wide Dottie's dark eyes have gone, and how much they had grown when she sets her sight on the amount of alcohol behind the bar.

She goes to walk up, but Polly holds her back with her elbow.

"Shelby's and Gray's don't go up to the bar, love," she says quietly, before letting go of her arm and walking away from the door. She walks swiftly to a door, and waits for Dottie and Micheal, who have stayed by the door until Polly calls out for them, "Dottie, Micheal. I'm here, loves."

Dottie and Micheal both quickly follow Polly in to a small room. A room with a sofa booth lining one wall with tables and a few chairs. Anna notices how the lamps are dim and the window is stained so no one can see in or out. She runs her eyes to the corner of the room, noticing how the wood slightly changes in to a hatch.

Polly shuts the door, then shrugs her coat off and places it on one of the chairs. She taps her knuckle against the wall.

"Do you both drink?" She asks, looking between her children.

"Vodka," Dottie responds, "he doesn't drink."

"Not vodka anyways," grunts Micheal, taking a seat upon the sofa. Dottie falls down next to him as Polly nods and opens up a hatch to the bar.

Immediately, a man, a tall barman, comes up to the hatch. Polly murmurs to the barman as Dottie elbows Micheal's arm.

"Fancy this, isn't it?" She says, "not like the Lion."

Micheal snickers, "nothing is as bad as The Lion, Dots," he says as he watches the barman rush away from Polly. He leans his head down, "what do you think?"

Dottie turns her head, looking at Micheal, "best thing to ever happen," she confirms, nodding her head.

The barman comes back to Polly sign a crystal bottle of amber liquid and a few crystal glasses. She places the four items on the table before she closes the hatch, immediately dismissing the barman.

"You haven't paid," Dottie says, frowning slightly.

Polly looks at Dotty, a smirk dancing it's way on to her lips. "You don't need to pay when you own the pub, love," Polly says before she takes the stopper out of the crystal bottle and begins pouring the amber liquid. She nudges over two glasses before pouring her own.

Dottie lifts the glass up, sniffing it. "That's not vodka."

"It's whiskey, now drink up."

The Shelby brothers had come in not long after the Gray family. They filtered in one by one, with Tommy first, then John, then Arthur, and finally Finn. The youngest Shelby, who stood next to Polly sheepishly, almost like he was trying to hide. Polly had smiled warmly at Finn.

"Finn, this is Dottie, and Micheal," she says in a proud manner.

Finn draws his eyebrows together, "Dottie?" He looks at the older girl, "Dottie?"

"Short for Dorothea," Dottie responds, sitting back on the booth, "I don't mind if you call me Dottie or Thea."

Finn raises an eyebrow, "I prefer Thea."

"Alright then," Dottie responds before Arthur grunts, coming up behind Finn and slamming his hands down on to Finn's shoulders.

"Alright, Finn, you've met Dottie and Micheal, now you can fuck off home."

Finn's frown turns in to frustration. He turns round, glaring at Arthur. "That's not fair, you said if I helped you with business I can drink tonight."

"And you can. Water, at home," Arthur argues back, he flicks off Finn's cap with his fingertips, "until your head is a big bigger, I'm in charge of you. Now go home."

Finn looks behind Arthur to Tommy.

"Go home, Finn," Tommy says, siding with his older brother.

Groaning, Finn turns to Polly, "Aunt Pol, help me out. Say I can stay."

Polly's eyes dart up to Arthur's face before she shakes her head. "Go home, Finn. There's dinner on the side, I made it earlier." She says causing the boy to groan again, sulking.

He glares at Arthur, "fucking wanker," he mutters before he kicks the ground and walks away. Arthur watches through the snug door to make sure he leaves the pub.

When Arthur walks in, he pours himself a generous amount of whiskey in a crystal glass. He lifts it up to his lips, "fucking nuisance, that kid, Tom," he says before downing the amber liquid, "welcome home, Dottie and Micheal."

Tommy nods, "yes, welcome home. Bet you're both glad to be back."