Nothing Will Change

Chapter 11

Rose stood outside 6 Watery Lane with a muted green dress on and a brown coat over the top. She hadn't chosen to dress as an inverted tree, but anything brighter would have brought too much attention to herself as she ventured down the street to the Shelby home. Having her fist raised and her bag clutched at her side, Rose contemplated how long is too long for her to wait before she knocked. It got dark so fast in Birmingham, and it would only get darker the longer she waited, so biting the insides of her cheeks, she knocked.

The door swung open and she was met with Polly above her, a brown cigarette between her lips as she looked her up and down. Eyes lined in kohl like they always appeared to be, curly hair of the night pinned away from her face, Rose had decided beauty had been awarded differently for the Shelby's. Everyone else had been given it reluctantly, as the gods clearly only wanted to save it for the rulers of the town. It suited them in a way it couldn't for Rose or anyone who didn't hold the weight of the name. Mystery with a sense of power.

"Great you're here," Polly smiled lightly as she pulled her cigarette away from her lips, "I hope you brought your sketchbook."

"Of course," Rose tugged it out her bag and Polly opened the door wider for her to enter. She was hit with the largest array of autumn colours, that she would never have assumed it was spring that was their favourite season. Greens and oranges and reds in small clutter along the shelves, Rose took off her coat and found herself to blend in with the walls. It smelled of cigarettes and herbal tea, Rose picturing Tommy but also the leaves that had scorched to make the details on the wallpaper. She resisted the urge to run her finger across it as she followed Polly into the kitchen. 

On the table waited the nicest china plates Rose had seen since she arrived in Small Heath, Polly shutting the door to her right before Rose could see what was on the other side. It was pleasant to see a tea cup being held in Polly's hands over a bottle of whiskey, Rose sitting down as she was invited to. The dark liquid rushed into her cup and it reminded Rose of the same deep copper that fell from the glass, but the tea leaves that came with it wiped away the vision in her mind. With her sketchbook now in her lap, Rose sipped the cup of tea as Polly examined her.

Suppose she did not get enough time when they met with Ada, because now Rose felt the lazars of her eyes pinpointed harsher on her person than they did those weeks ago. Rose was a piece of pointalism and Polly was staring trying to understand what the painting made out, her gaze dropping to the tea cup as though she was eager for Rose to finish it. There had not been one word uttered in several minutes, Polly taking her time from eyeing her hair, to the pink of her lips to the way her dress sat modestly but just enough to show her collar bones. Rose felt her to be her biggest critic if she was to be a painting, as no regular observer would look at her as deeply as Polly was.

"Let's have a look then," she held out her hand, and Rose was not sure if her hand leaned more towards the teacup or her sketchbook. Stretching across the table, she passed the book over, Polly leaning back as she nestled it on her lap. It was then Rose noticed there was no food on the hob waiting to be served. It was then she impatiently dragged her eyes from one spot to the next as she began to realize why she was there. Another interrogation. Tommy still had to find out about her. She knew about them, but what did they know about Rose Martin?

"These are... Incredible," Polly sounded shocked and Rose played with her fingers. Leaving the book open on a certain page, Polly placed the book to one side and sat forward in her seat again, "Thomas went to see you today, after you went to Ada's wedding."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know about... I'm sorry," her voice trailed off as she thought of ways to apologize that would be worthy of Polly Gray.

Shaking her head, Polly sat up to find her teacup still sat full, "it's alright, women should stick up for other women. Drink up, it'll help your nerves."