Like a Horse Made of Air

Change is in the Air

 There's something surreal about moving through the Shelby's home and shop. Wren would think it has to do with being in the space inhabited by notorious people she's heard whispers of for years. She supposes it is a little bit that. Mostly it's that something else inside of her—that knowing—which is fairly vibrating like a struck tuning fork. She'd call it a headache, but there's no pain with the tension.

Making it back into the shop she spots the woman she's looking for stood off talking to someone. She waits for Polly Grey to finish before approaching her.

"Mrs. Grey," she starts politely when she's close enough to speak normally and catches the other woman's eye. "If you ha—"

The older woman interrupts, "oh please, Polly will do. You're family now after all. Agreeing to take on a man like Tommy deserves it's privileges."

She guesses he had told his aunt after all. Not that she thought he'd lied, but confirmation is nice.

It's rude of her to just interrupt someone like that. And she doesn't much like that little quip about Tommy, either. She isn't impressed. Polly is Tommy's family, though, so she pulls on her "Customer Service" mask and gets on with it.

"Thank you, Polly," she smiles. "I was thinking of making dinner tonight, a thank you and introduction if you will, and I thought it best if I spoke to you before I made any plans. I understand you've been the sole woman of the house for awhile now and didn't want to step on any toes."

"Well you are a polite one, aren't you?" Polly smiles back at her. "Fear not for me toes, Dear. It's a lot of work keeping this house. I would welcome the break."

"Tommy needs to be here, so I'll be around to help," she tells the older woman. "Just let me know what you'd like me to take on and maybe we can lighten the load a bit."

"You can take on Tommy's house for a start," Polly launches right into it bluntly. "I've me own, Arthur's, and John's to deal with. Apparently, Tommy's going to have you helping with the books, which is something I cover too. You really licensed?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Wren replies simply.

"That'll be useful then," Polly muses. "I'll be kind enough to warn you, meals are a big affair in the Shelby house. They all end up here over the course of the day, so they all tend to eat here too. Plan for ten—eleven now with you—at the table. You sure you want to take that on?"

"I was thinking bigger actually. Get the men and their families together and have a sit down around some good food. I enjoy cooking," Wren answers honestly, that something nudging at her that she ought to push for this. "It's just hard to see much point in the effort when it's just me. Feeding half of Small Heath will be a good excuse to dust off Gram's recipes."

"Take that too then," Polly says as she lights up a cigarette. "I can cook, but it's a necessity not a pleasure."

"Glad to help," Wren reaffirms. "When will they be expecting dinner?"

"Anywhere between six to ten," Polly shrugs. "I don't always have time to keep to a set schedule. So they wait for me to cook, they get takeaway, or they make do with what they make themselves."

That would explain why Tommy couldn't tell her when dinner would be, "I'll see what I can manage then."

"Good luck," the older woman offers blandly. "You're going to need it."

Wren takes her leave then heading out into Small Heath.

Her Grandpa had business in properties and horses before his health started failing and he sold them all to his business partner. She'd been trained in that business from a fairly young age. It's where her knowledge of accounting came from; Grandpa had been licensed in it too. She's going to have to completely restructure her priorities as well as her schedule to accommodate everything she's suddenly responsible for. It's worth it though, she refuses to regret her choices.