The Hanging Noose

Six

After several whiskeys, Polly had pulled the decanter away from Micheal, barring him from any more alcohol. She had tried to do the same to Dottie, who had swatted her hand away.

"Mum! Don't be so pristine," she slurs, half sitting on the booth half leaning against Micheal's chest.

"You're drunk, love," Polly says, trying to take away the bottle again, only for Dottie to grab hold of the large bottom of the crystal decanter.

"I'm fine."

"Dots," Micheal says, steadying his voice, "have some water," he says, pouring some water from the whiskey mug in front of them in to an empty and clean glass, "you don't want a hangover tomorrow."

Dottie frowns, looking up at Micheal, "what's happening tomorrow?"

Micheal looks at Polly as Dottie brings her hand up to Micheal's chin, grasping hold of his chin and moving his head back in her direction.

"What's happening tomorrow?" She asks again, blinking rapidly.

"We're going to a museum," Micheal responds, "Mums taking us."

Dottie frowns, "a— a museum? That's all? That's why I—" she hiccups, covering her mouth with her hand. "For fuck sake," she mutters, she looks around to Tommy, "where's the toilet?"

Tommy stands up, "I'll take you."

Her frown deepens, "I don't need you to—" she stops talking when yawns, half burping as well. She stands up, slightly swaying to Micheal steadies her, "take me then." She orders.

Tommy stands and holds out his arm for a swaying Dottie to hold. He looks back as he opens the door, raising his eyebrow at Polly before he leads her away from the snug. He walks her through the pub, trying to ignore some of the looks some punters gave him and Dottie, and walks her in to the women's toilet.

"Do you need help?" He asks, opening a cubicle door.

She shakes her head, "no. I'll meet you... outside after," she says, hiccuping once more as she closes the cubicle door.

Tommy doesn't move for a moment. He waits until he can hear the sound of her hiccuping once more. Goosebumps line his skin when he hears her begin to heave. He steps out of the women's toilet, and stands at the bar, ordering himself a whiskey while he waits for his cousin.

Back in the snug, no more than a one minute walk, Micheal sighs, rubbing his forehead.

"Sorry about that," he says, "Dottie gets a little aggressive when she drinks."

Arthur leans back on the booth, a cigarette between his fingers. "Just like Uncle Joseph."

"Who's Joseph?"

Polly clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, glaring at Arthur, who places his cigarette between his lips and holds his hands up.

"Pol's husband," Ada answers, looking at Micheal, "your dad."

Micheal nods.

Polly turns her head back to Micheal, "when he was drunk, he became loud, aggressive even."

"Dottie's loud when she's sober," Micheal responds, as if he's trying to stick up for his sister, "she doesn't mean to be aggressive, well she's not really aggressive. Just boisterous. Says what she's thinking."

Polly nods.

"She seems sweet," Ada says, "even when I met her as a barmaid. She was sweet then."

Micheal shrugs, "she can be. Other times she's a fucker." He frowns, "actually she's always a fucker, just more when she's drunk. She'll come back, either pissed off, wanting more alcohol or crying. Guarantee it."

Ada leans forward. "Crying?"

"She's always crying," Micheal replies nodding, "whether she's sober or drunk. If she's not crying, then somethings wrong."

Ada nods again, crossing her left leg over her right knee. "Polly told me you've ridden horses."

Micheal nods again, "I do. We use to have several horses back in the village," he explains, "we had a bay mare."

"Does Dottie ride?"

"No. She was never allowed."

Ada raises an eyebrow before looking at Polly, nudging her elbow in to Polly's arm. "You'll have to teach her, Pol."

"Mum says you have a little boy," Micheal says, trying to ignore the pointing look in Polly's eyes, "Karl, is it?"

Ada fondly smiles, "he's. He's a little rascal, but yes."

"Is he your only one?"

Nodding, Ada goes to respond when John talks. "I've got a few."

"You have?"

"He had nearly enough for a football team," Ada remarks, smirking slightly, "him and Esme can't keep their hands of each other, like two horny teenagers."

John shrugs in response, "when you've got a body like this, would you want to keep your hands of it, Ada?" He grunts, "exactly."

"I would prefer if you didn't include me in your sex life," Ada retorts making John scoff.

"Are communists allowed to have sexual relations?" John asks, slightly smirking.

Ada tilts her head, "fuck off."

In the toilet cubicle, Dottie wipes her mouth, flushing the toilet with her other hand. She unlocks the door, abs washes her hands clean before stepping out of the women's toilet. She looks around for Tommy, peering her head round a darkening corner leading in to an office space. As she begins to take a step towards it, she's pushed back, nudged by a stranger.

"Shit, sorry," the stranger says, his voice deep and husky. He places his hands on Dottie's upper arms, leaning his head down, "you alright, love? You're swaying."

Dottie frowns, looking up at the man. He's not much taller than her, with piercing hazel eyes and dark skin. He smirks at Dottie, his eyes soft however.

"Where's Tommy?" She asks, making him frown.

"Tommy? Tommy Shelby?"

She nods, "he's my cousin—" she hiccups, staring at the man in front of her.

"Alright, love, come with me, we'll find him," he says, wrapping his arm around her waist as if to steady her.

She freezes, "I don't want to sleep with you."

The man raises an eyebrow, "trust me, I don't want to sleep with you either."
He remarks making Dottie frown, "come on, let's find Tommy, shall we?"

Dottie shakes her head, twisting her head to look at him. "I'm Dottie."

"I'm Isiah, now come on, let's get you to Tommy."

Isiah did as he promised to the drunk girl. He had walked carrying most of Dottie's weight over to the bar, where Tommy was sitting with a whiskey in his hand. Tommy had thanked him, patting him on his shoulder before taking hold of Dottie. Dottie swayed, almost falling, so Tommy whisked her in to his arms, carrying her back to the snug. On the short journey, she had rested her head against his chest, listening to the beating sound of his heart.

Once back at the snug, the young girl had quickly fallen asleep. He kicked the door open, causing all attention to fall on to him.

"Pol, she needs to go home," Tommy says, stepping in to the room and closing the door shut with his foot, "lucky enough Isiah was the one to find her."

Polly nods, standing up, "Micheal, come on," she orders.

Micheal instantly stands up, walking over to Tommy to take hold of his sister, who wakes up and smiles up at Micheal.

"Go back to sleep, Thea," Micheal says softly, kissing her forehead, "you're safe, don't worry."