The Hanging Noose

Thirty-Five

Dottie clings on to Grace like a lifeline.

Grace begins to sing. A sweet and soft melody. An Irish song that Dottie knows. It brings her back to calmness, back to life almost.

"In a neat little town they called Belfast
Apprentice to trade I was bound
And the many an hour's sweet happiness
Have I spent in that neat little town."

Dottie's breathing begins to regulate as Grace continues, looking at the wall and rubbing Dottie's back.

"A sad misfortune came over me
Which caused me to stray from the land
Far away from me friends and relations."

Grace breathes out, noticing the stillness taking over Dottie. She looks down, seeing Dottie stare up at her with large doe like eyes. She reminds her of a deer, a stray and scared deer.

"Betrayed by the black velvet band
Her eyes they shown like diamonds
I thought her the queen of the land
And her hair, it hung over her shoulder
Tied up with a black velvet band."

Dottie continues to stare at Grace with almost a vacant expression. Grace pushes aside her stray strands of hair.

"Are you alright, Dottie?" She asks, her eyes travelling over every feature.

"My mother use to sing that to me. Well not my mother, Rosemary. She use to sing that."

Grace hums.

"Whenever we were crying, she use to sing that. She said it's a lullaby. She use to sing it to Eliza... I use to sing it to her, to make her sleep. Reggie hated it, said I was filling her head with nonsense."

"You sung it as a lullaby?"

"Mhm." Dottie nods, "she use to fall asleep almost straight away... I use to sit up at night watching her making sure he didn't do anything to her..." Dottie rants, stopping to wipe her cheek.
"I hate him, you know. He took me when I was this strong woman and made me crazy. I hate him with all my life, I really do."

Grace gives her a small smile. "That's how I feel with Clive."

"Men, they're fucking horrible, aren't they?"

Grace, almost trying to stifle a laugh, nods, "you wait until you find the right one. My Tommy wouldn't do anything to hurt me."

"Yes, but your Tommy has also killed."

Grinning, Grace responds, "so have you, yet here I am."

Dottie freezes for a slightly second, before she slaps Grace's upper arm.
"Oi. Self defence don't count."

"Oh believe me it does," Grace remarks back, "listen, I'm holding a charity ball, Thomas had left me in charge of everything and it's too much. Would you help?"

"Of course. When is it?"

"Next Wednesday, but come over tomorrow. We can start planning it."

—

Dottie threw herself in to Grace's charity ball. She had Micheal or Polly drive her every day to Arrow House, not that either one of them minded, it meant Dottie was focusing on the future, rather than the past. Plus, Eliza loved being with Charlie. The two were similar ages, and were always giggling together in the corner. If the corner went quiet, Dottie and Grace knew there would be trouble awaiting for them.

Dottie and Grace got on extremely well. As well as both experiencing an abusive partner, they also bonded on the ways they both grew up. Grace grew up on the outskirts of a village, she's the youngest of seven boys. She wasn't allowed to follow the boys out to work, nor was she allowed to be around when her father had his business associates around for dinner. Grace grew up in her mother's presence, although being a daddy's girl at heart. When her mother died, she took care of the house, taking on her mother's role. It was only when Grace's father died, did she start to work, moving away from Galway slightly and finding work in several different pubs.

Dottie found her fascinating. She had lived through so many lives. She told Dottie all about her childhood from growing up in a small town in Galway to eventually moving to New York with her first husband.

Dottie felt she resonated a lot with Grace, they had similar upbringings, and similar pasts, so it was easy for Dottie to totally emerge herself in Grace's fancy organising.

It was long until it was the following Wednesday. It was the first day since Grace's wedding to Tommy that Dottie put an effort in to her outfit, curling and styling her hair, smearing red lipstick over her lips, decorating her dark eyes with dark eyeshadow and liner.

Her dress, one Polly's mother had stolen in years prior, clung to Dottie's every curve, accentuating her waist and her breasts. The stain dress sways beneath her feet, she holds up the thin material to walk down the stairs, careful of the many petticoats underneath the dress. She felt like a princess, with Polly's diamonds littering around her neck and hanging from her ears.

"You look stunning, my girl," Polly gleams, wearing an equally stunning dress. A nude one that compliments her skin.

"Wait until you see the little monkey," Dottie gushes, she turns her head round, "Eliza."

Eliza follows her mothers voice, walking down the stairs in a small black and gold dress. One Rosemary, unknowingly to Polly, had made Eliza when the pair were staying with her.

Polly grins, picking up Eliza and spinning her.

"Nana!" Eliza cries as Polly sways, hugging the girl tight.

"You look so beautiful, my darling!"

"That's right," Dottie purrs, stepping to the bottom of the steps, "but no doubt you'll change later, won't you? Mary will be looking after you and Charlie tonight, sweetheart."

Eliza tilts her head, "Charlie?"

"Yes, your bestest friend," Dottie grins.

Eliza looks behind Polly to Micheal. She kicks her legs out. Dottie frowns, watching silently.

"Let's go, Uncle Mickey! Let's go, let's go!"