Dottie, Polly and Ada were in Small Heath in the back of the betting den when they heard. They had gotten the call from Tommy, a frantic call causing Polly to curse and rip the phone out of the wall.
Either of them didn't process what they were told, allowing Ada to drive them quickly through the city and in to the hospital. When Dottie saw Micheal being carried on a stretcher, she broke down, tears spilling from her eyes. She grasped hold of his hand, walking quickly to match the paces of the nurses and staff carrying him.
"It's alright, Micheal," she says, holding tightly on to his hand as Polly yells behind her.
"Please, can we get some help here? Please!"
"It's all right Michael. It's all right Michael, I'm here. I'm here now, it's okay," Dottie says, paying no attention as the staff members carry Micheal in to a hospital room.
Polly is on the other side of Micheal, running with the stretcher as Micheal breathes heavily, almost gasping out in pain.
Dottie sniffs, covering her mouth as she sees the bullet hole.
The staff wheel the stretcher in to a large room as Polly yells, attracting attention from every other staff member and patient in the room.
"It's alright, Micheal, it's alright, Micheal. I'm here." She says as Micheal bares his teeth.
"It's all right Michael, you're gonna be OK. Don't leave us now, just keep breathing."
Dottie's attention is pulled away from her bruised brother when she hears footsteps. She sees Tommy, once a man full of live now fully empty and alone, walk in to the room. Behind him is two young men with flat caps against their heads.
"No, no, I don't want fucking kids in here, I want soldiers." Polly exclaims, anger imitating from her. She walks round the bed, as her voice grows with anger. "I don't want fucking kids who joined just for the sport."
The peaky boys look at Tommy, almost as if they're asking for his permission to leave. Tommy nods his head, muttering a Go on, go.
"I want men who've served in here." Polly continues, staring deadly at Tommy.
"Alright, Pol." He agrees simply.
Polly flares once more at him as she walks back over to the bed, pushing in between the staff members of the hospital to see Micheal, laying bruised and bloody. Dottie bites her lip to stop her from sobbing. Polly tries to touch Micheal's body, murmuring incoherently.
"Mrs Gray, please."
Tommy walks forward, "Pol, Pol."
"Don't go, don't go..." Polly mutters, her hands shaking as Dottie steps away from the bed, seeing her hands covered in blood.
"He's in good hands." A doctor says, trying to turn Polly away from the bed.
"Polly? Pol? Pol?" Tommy states, finally grasping hold of Polly's attention. She spins on her heels, glaring back at him.
"Fuck those bastards responsible!"
Tommy nods. "All right, let them do their job, all right? Let them do their job, I'll get soldiers. I'll be back. I'll be back."
Polly nods, trying to hold back a sob. She looks back at Dottie, who looks crushed as she stares between the doctors, looking at the bullet wound in Micheal's chest.
Polly walks over to Dottie, pulling her in to her arms. "It's okay, he'll be okay."
—
The Shelby family, mixed with the Gray's, sit and stand around a table in one of the Shelby houses in Small Heath. The doors to the betting den are wide open, allowing a nasty breeze to cool the room. Everyone seems to be on edge, everyone mourning.
YOU ARE READING
The Hanging Noose
Fanfiction1921 a strange man came to the Johnson's family home. He had asked for Dorothea and Micheal to return home, giving their mother a chance. They agreed to go, travelling from Kent to Small Heath, and had agreed to stay together. After all, they had d...
