The Hanging Noose

Forty-Six

Dottie and Polly sat in silence as they watched Eliza and Florence play by the small and bare Christmas tree. They knock a ball towards each other, giggling together. When Florence starts to yawn, Isiah announces he should take them home, allowing Dottie and Polly to have some time together. Some much needed time together.

Dottie walked Isiah and the two children out of the back garden, kissing Eliza and Florence's cheeks before waving at them ad they waved back through the kitchen window.

Once child free, Dottie grabs a plastic bag from the kitchen and makes her way to the front room. She begins to pick up the empty glass bottles and decanters. She picks up the small empty foil packets, seeing the remaining white powder linger on the ridges. She then picks up the empty and used tablet trays from the prison, throwing them in the bag. The card Isiah had picked up lays on the coffee table, almost mocking Dottie.

"What's a black hand, Mum?"

Polly shakes her head dismissively. "One of the girls must have painted it for me," she says, trying to ignore the pointing look Dottie throws at her. "Stop looking at me like that! Im fine!"

"You're not fine, Mum," Dottie argues back, seeing the empty whiskey bottles dotted around the front room, she drops one in the plastic bag. "Let me help you—"

"You can hardly help yourself, Dottie! How are you meant to help me?" Polly argues back, her words slicing Dottie's heart.

Dottie pauses. She blinks at Polly, who rolls her head to the back of the sofa.

"You know, I sit in here, and I see her over there. Your sister. She says to go to her."

Dottie drops the plastic bag on the floor. She rushes over to her mum, crawling beside her and wrapping her arms around her.

"She's all I see."

"You can't go with her," Dottie responds in a soft and quiet voice, "you've got to stay here, for me and for your granddaughters. You can't leave us, Mama."

Dottie buries her head in to Polly's side.

Polly lets out a sigh, her eyes shut.

"I won't let you leave, I swear."

—

Dottie had slept over at Polly's, like she had promised. She had slept in Polly's large bed, cuddling in to her as Polly mumbled in her dead sleep. Dottie awoke a few times during the night, making sure Polly was still alive.

In the morning, Dottie had dressed herself in Polly's clothes, draping her old dressing gown over her clothes to protect herself from the Christmas chill. Polly was suffering from an exhausted hangover, with her limbs feeling heavy and her head rolling, so Dottie helped Polly to dress as well, before cleaning the house, knowing Ada was coming round for Christmas.

Once the house was cleaner than normal, Dottie had moved the letters and post to the coffee table in front of the couch, making it easier for Polly to read them when she wanted to. Next, she began to move around the presents, noticing some of the boxes have been tampered with.

"I'm sure our Florence is part dog," Dottie mutters under her breath. She turns her head, and holds up the box. "Eh, look what Florence did. Scratching at the paper."

Polly jolts her eyes up, sitting on the edge of the sofa with her head in her hands.
"Oh Thea love, get me a drink, will you?"

Dottie nods, silently moving the present to being back under the tree, and stands up. She goes to head for the kitchen; however Polly clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth.