The Hanging Noose

Sixty-One

—

Tommy and Arthur strut in to the Garrison from the Garrison's office. An unimpressed look on Tommy's face as Polly breathes out.

Polly asks, looking between her nephews, "are you armed?"

"Yeah." Tommy answers

Arthur follows suit, "yeah."

"Would you please consider putting your weapons behind the bar in case feelings begin to run high?" Polly suggests next, lifting her chin as her eyes focus on Arthur.

"Behind the bar, Pol, eh? Behind my own bar, yeah?" Arthur questions, digging in to his blazer pocket. He pulls out his pistol, and empties the chamber on to the table. "I prefer it there."

"Thomas?"

Arthur grunts as he pulls a chair from the table. Tommy obeys Polly's wishes, placing the gun on to the bar.

"I had a dream..." he says, leaning against the bar, "about a black cat last night, Pol. A black cat dream means there is a traitor close by. It was you who taught me that."

Polly stares at him, a cigarette between her fingers. "Black cat can mean lots of things." She responds dismissively, "can mean you're hurting yourself. Betraying yourself. Are you seeing things, Thomas?"

A car drives up to the Garrison.

"Yes, I am." Tommy responds, pulling a tin of cigarettes out from his blazer pocket.  "Yes, I am. Very clearly." He adds, placing a cigarette up to his lips, "coming from every fucking direction." He finishes, lighting the cigarette.

Polly doesn't respond, instead she walks to the window, seeing Dottie's car. She then walks to the door, opening it with a creak. Micheal and Gina follow behind Polly, and Dottie follows them.

"Tommy." Micheal starts, "I'd like to introduce you to my wife. I would also like to, er, say something."

"Sit down, Michael." Tommy orders, his eyes lingering on Micheal as Dottie crosses behind the bar.

Arthur turns his head, nodding at Dottie. A signal to pour him a drink as well as her own.

"I betrayed you." Micheal states, still standing.

"Michael!" Polly scolds.

"But only in my heart," Micheal adds, "there was a time, in America, and there was a lot of money in that bank.
And I wondered if I could... I could leave, move to California. Someone said I should invest in pictures. Hollywood. But Gina stopped me. Gina said—"

Dottie slides across a glass to Arthur, who nods his head at her as Tommy interrupts Micheal.

"I told you to sit down, Michael."

Dottie leans against the bar, the glass in one hand. Her eyes go to Polly, who's sat down with an unimpressed expression. She pushes herself back, allowing room for Micheal to sit down, to which he does, with Gina still standing behind him.

"Now, tell me what happened on that ship in Belfast harbour."

"On the journey back from New York,
we got married. But we needed to find a witness. A purser. He was from Belfast. We got friendly."

"What happened when the ship docked?"

"This purser had friends who ran a
whiskey distillery in County Tyrone. They wanted a way of getting their stuff into America. So I said, "OK, invite them aboard. When they came in, I realised that they didn't make whiskey. They were Scottish. From Glasgow. Couldn't understand a fucking word they were saying. They started swearing, so I asked Gina to leave. That was when they started talking
about you, Tom. They said that Tommy Shelby was a spent force, that politics had got to him, that he was spent in the head, that now was a good time to move in and did I want to be part of it."

Dottie stares at Micheal, her eyes burning in to his.

"They knew about the money we lost
in America. They said that you were going to blame me. That you had a bullet with my name on it."

You fucking better not, Thomas, Dottie thinks, eyeing up Tommy from behind.

"What did you say, Michael?" Tommy asks simply.

"I didn't have time to say anything. Coppers came on board. Well, I thought they were coppers. They, er..."

"They were IRA." Tommy finishes.

"Exactly." Micheal stares up at Tommy, waiting for Tommy to speak.

"And the first men from Glasgow?"

"The IRA commander said the men
from Glasgow were called Billy Boys." Micheal adds as Arthur scoffs.

"Fucking Billy Boys."

"I don't know who the fuck Billy Boys are."

"They run every man in every coalmine, on every shipyard east of Glasgow. Ties with Belfast, UVF. Protestant razor gang. They also dabble in politics. You know, muscle for fascist rallies." Arthur explains.

"But you did no deal, Michael?" Polly urges, looking at Tommy, "you didn't even know who they were?" She looks back at Micheal as Gina turns.

"I was too busy looking forward to giving you the good news. The reason Gina and I got married on the ship was because Gina is pregnant. You're going to be a grandmother."

Dottie watches carefully as Micheal takes hold of Gina's hand and Polly freezes, her mouth slightly parted. She turns her head, looking at Dottie, then to Tommy.

"OK, Michael. I believe you. Welcome home. Congratulations. Just remember... your unborn child has witnessed what you said."

"Thomas!"

"And it will be born according to—"

Micheal springs up, "you fuck!"

Arthur is quick to step in between him and Tommy, pushing him back as Polly stands up. "Where the fuck are you going, hmm? Are you fucking mad, hmm?"

Micheal stares directly at Dottie, his eyes burning in to hers. Her fingers itch at her neck, unsure of how to help her brother.

"You are free to fucking leave, Michael." Arthur reminds him, his voice gravely.

"You fucking bastard." Micheal spits out.

"But you're not free, Michael, are you?
You lost this company a lot of money. I told you to sell but you held on, and now I want you to pay me back
what you owe me. There is work you can do, there are risks you can take. We were close before. Now I want you closer still."

Dottie breathes out, feeling her chest tighten.

"Michael, honey." Gina steps forward, twisting herself to be in Micheal's arms, "look at your cousin. He's in trouble, huh? He needs you." She says, almost in a seductive manner. "Come on, baby, let's go."

Micheal doesn't say anything else as he takes Gina's hand and leaves with her. Polly glares at Tommy before she also leaves, and Dottie hangs her head, breathing out.

"Fucking cheek of her, eh?" Arthur grunts as a car begins to rev outside.

Tommy sighs, scratching at his forehead, "Dottie... you disobeyed my orders."

Dottie lifts up her head, "I weren't going to let him stay in a hotel," Dottie responds, walking around the bar to the tables. She crosses her arms over her chest.
"He's my baby brother."

"He's a traitor, Dots," Tommy responds back, "he lost us a lot of money."

"Money is just money, Tommy," Dottie states, "I'm not depriving my girls of spending time with their uncle."

Tommy shakes his head, grunting, "you're too soft, you know that, Dots?"

"Don't you think I already know that?" Dottie replies back, "if I wasn't so soft, I wouldn't have gone through half the things that has happened."

Arthur clears his throat, "erm, Dots, let me drive you home. By the looks of it, Micheal's taken your car."

"No, Arthur, Dottie's with you to meet Billy tonight. We need a feminine face around."