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Today was the day that Polly-Anna Wallace turned fourteen.
For her, it was just another summers day where her plans were nonexistent and work wasn't a priority. To say she was at a loss on what to do with her day was an understatement. She hadn't had a full day to herself in what felt like a lifetime. Had she been a normal teenaged girl of the era, she'd be off with some boy, gallivanting the streets of Small Heath with nothing but adventure on her mind.
But Polly-Anna was far from normal.
Instead, she had the desire to pop down to the church, just to watch the birds in the courtyard perch on-top of the cherry trees. Maybe she'd even take her sketch book with her, or one of Amber-Jacks beginner books so she could get used to seeing words on pages.
The church courtyard had been a place where Polly-Anna seemed to flock during the summer months. It almost felt like she could become anyone she needed to be between the pillars, and sometimes she'd sit by her mother's grave. For no particular reason, other than to feel closer to her.
"Anna!" A booming voice called out from the cloakroom just past the kitchen.
Polly-Anna decided to ignore Amber-Jacks calls. For once, she could manage on her own, there was a step stool inside of the cloakroom too- so it wasn't as though the girl couldn't reach anything. Having come to the conclusion the previous night that she did far too much for the girl, she decided to take a reluctant step back. One day, she wouldn't be there to help her with her every need.
She, of course, hoped for that day to be so far into the future that it wasn't necessary to picture it, but God had plans for all living things on earth and that included Polly-Anna. Once those plans were in motion, nothing could come between them, no matter how many gypsy witches were involved.
"Polly-Anna, PLEASE!" The youngest Wallace shouted once more, causing the elder to rather aggressively get up off of her seat and head towards the source of the ungodly screech.
With a huff and a sigh, she carefully pulled the door open, only to reveal a rather entangled Amber-Jack who had gotten one arm stuck in a fancy; yet fake, set of pearls and the other firmly in a jacket that was still hung up. Though, in her little hands, there was a plain little box. The exterior gave nothing away but the look on the girls face was enough to tell a thousand words.
Before untangling her from the mess she had somehow created, she placed one hand on the door frame whilst the other pulled at the chain of pearls.
"First thing we've learned from this experience?" "Shout you by your full name?" Amber replied without missing a beat.
That girl was magnificent at missing the obvious, but that had ran in the family for generations. Something else she was magnificent at alongside that, was being able to miss the cues that were almost handed to her on a silver platter.
