Souvent me Souviens (Work in Progress)

Chapter 2

     Polly pattered away to find a pair of towels. Facing Tom, Granny said, "you're lucky she went back for you after everything she's been put through, Mr. Lynn." A sliver of soft-heartedness slipped out when she added, "and I suppose it's no more than you deserve, given everything you've likely been put through by Her." She turned to Leslie. "And you're one of Her's too, I take it?"

     "Eh?"

     "Mrs. Leroy's."

     "Oh," Leslie blushed, "er - I think she's given me up."

     Granny scoffed at that last bit. Polly returned, wringing out her long, silver-fair hair with a large towel. She had a second towel hung over her arm, which she leaned into Tom. Tom took the towel and likewise began to dry his own ash-blonde head. Polly went up to her room to go change.

     "I had better find a change of clothes for you as well," Granny said to Tom.

     "I'll just be here," Tom said. He sort of stamped in place for awhile and tucked his hands under his armpits, with the towel draped over his head. Polly returned wearing her thickest jumper and jogging pants. She smiled a bit at the sight of him.

     "You're laughing at me," Tom said.

     "No I'm not," she replied, but she couldn't keep the giggle out of her voice.

     "You do look rather pathetic," Leslie said pleasantly.

     "I'm well aware," said Tom. He couldn't keep the giggle out of his voice either. Polly was greatly tempted to hold Tom just now, but instead she settled close beside him and tried not to smile too much as she gazed up at his profile. Granny came back with a battered looking box.

     "Something in there's bound to fit," Granny said as she passed Tom the box.

     "Thank you," said Tom as he left to go change. When he got back, he was wearing a very old-fashioned pair of trousers and a rather Edwardian-looking cardigan. Polly imagined it might have been the sort of thing her grandfather might have worn, before Laurel got him. His name had been Thomas, too.

     "Would anyone like biscuits?" Polly offered politely. With all the things to be resolved, Polly was not sure where to start. Thankfully, Granny cut through the niceties as efficiently as ever.

     "I think you ought to discuss that picture with Mr. Lynn first, young lady" Granny pointed out. Fire and Hemlock; the first of two photographs pertaining to Thomas that Polly had come to possess. The other was a portrait depicting a teenage Thomas Lynn that Polly had stolen.

     "There's nothing to discuss," Tom spoke up, "I gave it you, Polly, so it's yours by right."

     "And I can give it right back," Polly said. "It's your soul that's in it. I can't own you, Tom. I won't."

     "But Laurel does," Tom went on. Polly was not so sure about that, but before she could think why, her attention was drawn to the sound of knocking at the door. The Dumas Quartet had arrived. Granny let them in. Ann, Ed, and Sam, with viola and violins still in hand, strode past Granny with shy hellos and waves - except for Ed, who was not shy.

     "Polly's grandmother! We meet at last," Ed smiled and held out his hand.

     "And you are?" Granny asked as she shook his hand.

     "Edward Davies, ma'am," he nodded towards Sam, "the other violin is Samuel Rensky, and that's-"

     "Ann Abraham, viola," Ann herself cut in.