The Hanging Noose

Eleven

Reggie was the one to drive Dottie home. Not Arthur. Not the cousin who promised her mother he would have her home.

Dottie closes the door, loudly, alerting everyone of her presence. She shrugs of her coat, hanging it up on the nearest coat rail. Polly rushes to the front of the house, sighing when she sees Dottie.

"Where have you been?" Polly asks, a glass of whiskey in one of her hands.

"Isn't it a little bit early to be drinking, Mum?" Dottie asks back, leaning down to take of her shoes.

Polly stares at her as she unclips her shoes. "Mind your tone with me, missy."

Dottie rolls her eyes, lifting her feet up from her shoes and standing barefoot in front of her mum. "What do you want me to say? You know I was with Arthur last night."

Raising an eyebrow, Polly places a hand on her hip. "I know you weren't. Arthur called, he said you had gone off, he lost you, he said."

"Well Arthur's dramatic," Dottie responds back, "I didn't go off, I was in the pub—"

"Where did you sleep?" Polly fires, her eyes running over her daughters opinion, her dishevelled hair and her smeared off makeup. "Hell if you slept at Arthur's or the Tommy's."

Dottie doesn't answer.

"Do you know how worried I was?" Polly exclaims, "you have no idea, do you? I lost you once when you was six, and to find out you're missing. Again. Do you know how anxious I've been? Eh?"

"Mum—"

Polly steps back, "you're selfish, you know that, Dottie."

Dottie raises her eyebrows and scoffs, "me? Selfish? Everything I do is for Micheal or for you—"

Polly holds up her hand, silencing her daughter. "I want to know his name."

Dottie freezes.

"I want to know his name, Dorothea."

"Who?"

"Don't play dumb," Polly argues back, "the man who dropped you off. The man who you ran away with last night."

"Mum, are you hearing yourself?" Dottie questions back, her frustration growing in her, "I didn't run away last night. You said I could go out with Arthur, you agreed it. I didn't want to go, I was quite happy staying here, but you said—"

Micheal runs down the stairs, coming between his sister and his mum. "Eh, eh. What the fuck is going on in here?"

Polly raises her chin, almost like a stubborn child does. "Your sister ran off last night."

Dottie lets out a frustrated sigh. "I didn't, I was with Arthur—"

Micheal raises an eyebrow.

"That's it," Dottie says, wiping her hands. "I'm done having this conversation," she responds. She pushes past Micheal and goes to walk past Polly, however Polly wraps a hand around her wrist, gently stopping her.

"I was so worried," Polly says quietly, "don't you understand that?"

Dottie tilts her head, "of course I do, but you was the one to say I could go with Arthur."

"Arthur called me this morning. He said no one knew where you was. The last time any one saw you was when you was dancing," Polly replies. She drops her whiskey on to the staircase pillar and lifts her hand up to Dottie's cheek.
"I thought you had left," she adds in a small and sad voice.

"I'm not leaving you," Dottie confirms, "not now, not ever."

"Then where was you, Dots?" Polly further asks, prying in to her daughters love life. "Who is he?"

Dottie looks at her mother, her eyes large just like they were when Polly first held Dottie. The screaming child who refused to be away from her mother.

"If I tell you... you'll tell them, and they'll cut him," Dottie says quietly.

Polly hums, "right... go and have a bath, and get dressed. You reek. Ada's coming round."

—

Ada watches carefully as Dottie enters the room. Her hair is wet, her face free of any makeup. She has a pair of slippers situated on her feet, and she's draped in a dressing gown. Micheal glares at her.

"Fucking hell," he groans, noticing the bags laying under her eyes, "could have made a bit of an effort, Dots."

Dottie rolls her eyes, going in to the alcohol cabinet. She grasps hold a glass before looking at Ada and Polly.
"Would you like anything?"

"Bit early, isn't it?" Polly retorts, raising an eyebrow.

Dottie grumbles in response, "take that as a fucking no," she mutters, pouring herself a glass of vodka. She places the large vodka decanter down on to the shelf. She then takes a seat on the sofa, curling up her leg beneath her.

"Hello, Dottie," Ada retorts, a small smirk upon her lips, "how are you? I hear you went missing last night."

Dottie sighs, "for the last time, I didn't go missing. I was simply—"

"With a bloke?" She asks, leaning forward slightly.

Micheal huffs, "I don't want to listen to this. Not about my sister."

With a small smirk, Polly retorts back, "well then, you know where the door is, Micheal. I suggest you leave now. With Ada, no stone will be left unturned."

Micheal huffs again, wiping his hands on his legs before standing up and walking off, slightly annoyed. Dottie watches him, frowning. Her attention goes back to Ada when he shuts the door behind him.

"I understand," Ada promptly says, "when I first started seeing Freddie, I told no one. Didn't even tell you, Pol, did I?" She leans forward, lowering her voice, "I won't tell anyone."

Dottie takes a minute to think. She then sits back.

"We want to know you're safe," Polly adds, sensing her daughter's uncomfortableness.

"I met him last night," Dottie hesitantly says, "he says he works with your brothers. He's sweet."

Polly raises an eyebrow, she reaches out, taking hold of her daughters hand.

"Arthur threatened him," Dottie adds.

Ada scoffs, "fucking Arthur. Of course he did. Can't stand to see anyone but his brothers happy." Ada leans forward, and takes hold of the glass of vodka in front of Dottie. She picks it up, and swallows it in one mouthful.
"Do what you want, Dottie. The boys won't learn, either way. They'll only accept him once he marries you."

Dottie almost chokes. "Marriage? Marriage?! Ada, I met him last night. For the first time. No way am I marrying him!"

Ada hums, lifting her chin up. "We'll see."

"No, we won't see! I'm not marrying him," Dottie argues back, "I may never see him again anyways."

Ada raises an eyebrow, "hmm."

Shaking her head, Dottie sighs before looking at Polly. "Can't you control your niece?"

"Ada? Control?" Polly half scoffs, "Ada use to climb out of the window every night to see her beloved Freddie."

"Polly! You knew about that?" Ada exclaims, her eyes wide.

Polly smirks, "Ada, love, I know about everything."

Ada shakes her head.

"She use to also sneak some of her brothers whiskey, use to sell it to some poor suckers."

"Polly!"

"And use to steal her brothers guns. Use to hide them round the house, then blame Finn," Polly continues.

Dottie snickers.

"Polly, what the fuck?" Ada exclaims, "how do you know all of this?"

Polly's smirk widens. "You should know this. I know everything, for I'm Polly Gray."