The Hanging Noose

Thirty-Two

Dottie sits between Micheal and Polly at a long table. She leans back, seeing Arthur check his pocket watch beside a blonde woman.

"Tommy had us all in the kitchens earlier," Micheal says under his breath to Dottie.

She turns her head towards Micheal, leaning her ear in.

"He's adamant on no fighting, and no snow," Micheal adds. He then hesitates, "he said to watch you. He said you may be going through stuff. Mentally, you know."

Shaking her head, Dottie replies. "No, I'm fine. Now what the fuck is Arthur doing? He's sitting there huffing and puffing. Look!"

Micheal leans his head back, seeing Arthur grunt about something. Arthur checks back at his watch as the blonde woman speaks. Her voice rich, sophisticated. Far from what the Shelby's accents hold.

"You're the best man, Arthur. Go and find them," she instructs.

Dottie raises her eyebrows, expecting Arthur to grunt back with an argument, however he nods, clearing his throat and standing up. As he walks past Dottie, Dottie grabs his sleeve, yanking him down to her lips.

"He's upstairs with Grace," she mutters, "knock first, yeah?"

Arthur nods, "alright, thanks cousin."

Cousin? Dottie thinks as she releases his sleeve. Cousin. When has he ever called her cousin? Just cousin? Baby cousin, sure. But just cousin?

Dottie watches as Arthur struts out the door, past where Ada is talking politics to a man in a red uniform and past where John is cackling at another soldier.

Lizzie, a close friend, of Tommy's, looks around the table, as Polly begins to pour some wine in to a glass. She looks at Polly, sitting on the other side of Polly.

Lizzie bows her head, talking quietly and quickly to Polly. "Polly, I told you he was looking over. He's coming. He bloody is."

Polly looks up briefly. Her face slightly drops. "Fuck. Wrong one."

Dottie watches as Polly glances at a dark haired man. The same dark haired man Dottie caught staring at Polly earlier on.

A man from Grace's side of the family stands up, he makes his way over to where the three Gray's are sitting.

"What do vou mean wrong one? How many are there?" Lizzie hisses, trying to contain her smile.

Lizzie smirks at Polly as Dottie narrows her eyes, she moves closer to her mum as the man approaches Polly.

"Two giving me the eye. I like the other one. He looks harmless." Polly replies almost in a disappointed tone. She looks back at the dark haired man, Lizzie follows her sight before Polly pulls away her eyes.

"It must be that bloody lipstick Tommy brought you back from New York." Lizzie replies simply.

A tall man comes to Polly's chair and bows slightly. He has a stiff posture, and beefy eyes. He ignores Dottie and Lizzie.

"Madam, I couldn't help noticing you are unaccompanied. I also am alone. May I join you?" He asks in a thick Eastern European accent.

Lizzie and Polly stifle.

Dottie frowns, not really sure on why they are laughing. Micheal taps her arm but she elbows the air, a clear sign to leave her alone.

Lizzie with a smirk turns to the man. "Actually we are now issuing vouchers for Polly's time. Ten shillings an hour."

Dottie's stomach churns. She remembers seeing a man in her dreams last night. One with beady eyes, only she took it as Reggie.

The man frowns slight, but he bows again and sits down. He smiles at Lizzie and offers his hand.
"Anton Kaledin. Military attache. Enchanted to meet you."