The Hanging Noose

Twenty-Five

Eliza was busy playing with her cousins. Her squeals were heard throughout the house as Charlie, Tommy and Grace's boy, Karl, Ada's boy, and Bobby, one of John and Esme's boys. The giggles and squealing could be heard throughout the manor, the padding of each child's feet hitting the floors could be heard in each room, and the relaxing sigh of their parents could be heard in a small dining room, where Dottie, Ada and Esme whilst Grace waltz around the small room with a small glass decanter in her hand. She leans over the table, filling up the women's glasses and filling up her own before she takes a seat.

"So Reggie," Ada starts, her glass in front of her. "He didn't write to you? Not once?"

Dottie shakes her head, downing her drink in one as Esme scoffs.

"Fucking men," she grunts, "I swear to fuck, the world would be so much better run by women."

Dottie nods, half agreeing as Grace goes to pick up the decanter. She shakes her head.
"No, no more, thanks."

Frowning, Ada hesitates, before she speaks, "no more? Is this the same Dottie who drank the Garrison empty with Arthur?"

"I can't do that anymore, Ada. I've got a little girl to think about—"

Grace chuckles, a light-hearted sound irrupting from her mouth. "We've got maids, Dottie. The maids can look after Eliza, they look after Charles when Tommy and I can't."

Dottie tilts her head, frowning slightly as she looks down at her empty glass.

"Besides, I'm sure Eliza will pass out tonight. Charles certainly will, it's been a while since a girl has chased him round the house. Esme's girls are too old for that."

"I didn't hear the end of it last time," Esme grumbles causing Dottie to frown.

"The last time?"

"When we're all together, the kids go mental," Esme explains, "you've got Katie and Martha, the oldest two, and then Charlie, the youngest, and he loves playing with the girls, but they hate running around, prefer playing with their dolls."

"They won't allow Charlie to touch their dolls," Grace says with a small smile on her face, "says his fingers are always sticky, no matter how many times we wipe his hands."

"Ah," Dottie says, lifting her head with a small smile, "Eliza's like that. No matter how many times I clean her, I turn around and she's dirty, or she's pulled her hair out, or she's got some food down her. Does my heading."

Ada chuckles.

"One Sunday after church, I turned my back to talk to the pastor, and she went to play in the fields with the other kids. Came back and her Sunday dress was ripped, ruined beyond belief. Rosemary did—"
Dottie stops talk, feeling slightly lightheaded. She shakes away the thoughts, trying to remain calm. She goes to open her mouth to speak when she hears car tyres squeak against the stones and pebbles of the path. Her curiosity gets the better of her. She finds herself standing at the window, looking down at a black car.

Dottie watches by the window, moving the curtains out of the way, to take a look at whoever arrived. She can see Tommy welcoming the person. Her breath stops when she's Reggie's face. Her stomach drops as he looks up at the house.

"Reggie's here." She announces, walking out of the room without anyone else's voices coming to light. She walks through the manor, following the giggles and squeals of the children.

She finds the children in a spare bedroom upstairs. She creeps in, finding Eliza giggling with Charlie as Karl shows them a game.

"Is everyone alright in here?" Dottie asks quietly, stepping further in to the room.