❝ PICKET FENCE! ❞ → GRAY ✓

→ ii.iv

Act Two, Scene Four

→ ❝ squeeze the trigger, henry! ❞

             "Where's Tommy?" Carol asked, sniffing and brushing down the front of her frock as she walked into the Big Room. Polly and John were sat on separate sofas, reading different newspapers. "I need to talk to him, do you know where he is?"

             "Carol, uh," John cleared his throat and itched the end of his nose. He rose from his seat and stepped towards the girl, who looked at him with tired and puzzled eyes, "I'm sorry about, you know, about what I said before. I didn't mean it, I didn't know what I was saying. I'm really sorry."

             Carol shook the confusion from her head, giving forgiveness for something she had forgotten had even happened. She didn't know what John was apologising for. "Yeah, it's alright." Her attention turned to Polly who was watching the girl over the rim of her teacup. "Polly, where's Tommy? It's important."

             The older woman pretended not to notice Carol's puffy cheeks and red eyes that were both much more prominent than a half hour ago. She had enough wisdom and common sense to not need to ask questions, "Carol, love, Tommy's gone to Wales. He said he'll be back in three days, you can talk to him then."

             In her head, Carol was trying to convince herself that three days wasn't a long time. Three days was how long it would take to get from Sheffield to London by foot. Three days was a weekend and a half. Three days was how long it would take for her to completely lose her mind.

             The day passed smoothly, and Michael had only tried to talk to Carol seven times. The young girl spent the majority of her time with Karl, attempting to put on a puppet show for him. The child had gotten bored of her awful puppeteering rather quickly and had started to throw things at her, causing Carol to give up and play toy soldiers with him all morning instead. She wished Charles was still at home (she would never forgive Tommy for leaving her without so much as Charlie), for he always seemed to enjoy the puppet shows, even if he did always clap and laugh at the wrong parts or when she and Michael would get mixed up and tangle their puppet strings together.

             God, why did everything always have to come back to Michael? Not being able to keep her mind off him for so little as an hour made her blood boil, she needed to be independent from him but the thought of losing him forever was almost too much to bear.

             Giving up completely on Karl after lunch, Carol decided to curl up on an armchair in front of the fire in the library and read a new book with a slice of lemon cake at her close side. Tommy had purchased all the books in a rather interesting series about witches and a green kingdom and an American girl with silver shoes, and she was currently reading the first installment, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. She could relate vaguely to Dorothy, and wondered how she managed to remain so sane after finding out the Wonderful Wizard wasn't so wonderful after all.

             "Dinner's ready," Polly had interrupted Carol before she could pick up the second book, knocking on the door and popping her head into the library. "We're all waiting for you."

             The remaining family decided to gather together for their evening meal, but Carol's mind was relatively absent. She couldn't remember what anyone was talking about or how many times Michael had tried to catch her attention from across the table, but she could remember kicking her peas around her plate with her fork and making them swim through a cheese sauce lake. Dessert went similarly, and ended with Carol leaving her meringue untouched on her plate. Servants came and went, and it wasn't long before Carol was sat with Ada and Polly discussing communism while the elder men had disappeared to God knew where.