𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄 ᵖᵉᵃᵏʸ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵈᵉʳˢ

𝟎𝟖, too young for this

VIII. 1919

    "I didn't fucking do it !" She shouted back, hitting her hands on the table.

"How the fuck are we meant to believe you?" John spoke. What the fuck? She thought. "There is a warrant for your fucking arrest. You will hang. Dead. Do you understand that? Or are you too fucking stupid to get that through your thick skull, eh?" He spoke loudly.

It hurt that he thought she would do it. And stupid, last time she checked she didn't have four kids before the age of twenty-one.

"John" Polly hissed.

She had just woken up and went down to the kitchen being met with a hungover John, who was no in the mood for anything. She didn't even know how it started but now they were screaming at each other. Polly had come in from wherever awhile ago to stop the shouting but nothing could stop them as they fought. Arthur was just as hungover but left as soon as Vivian entered, already knowing the events that were about to take place.

"What Pol, she's a kid. She needs to understand what she did will get her killed." John snapped at their aunt. His face was as red as a tomato and he was out of breath, breathing heavily after each rant.

"She is a kid and you think she would kill a man. She's your baby sister." Pol snapped back at her nephew, pointing at her niece.

Vivian was shocked at John's word, but did not show the emotion on her face. She looked him dead in the eye when she spoke.

They walked into the all-too-familiar pub, and made their way into the snug. When she walked in she saw John, twirling a toothpick in his mouth and fidgeting with his hands, and Arthur.

John eyes filled with disappointment and anger at the sight of her. They hadn't spoken in a while, not since their last fight.

"All right John, there's only one man- no," Tom stopped, declining Arthur's offer, " There's only one man guarding the house." Vivian sat on the couch beside Arthur, as Polly sat in front of her and Tom behind John. "What's troubling ya?"

"Right," John cleared his throat. Vivian could already tell he was nervous and there was a small bit of her that found it funny, but remained still. "Polly, y'know what it's been like, since Martha died-" he spoke with small pauses, not meeting Polly's eyes. John didn't often talk of Martha, if ever.

"God takes the best first." Polly said, placing her hand on his. Martha was kind, and Polly treated her like a daughter and Martha treated Ada and Vivian like sisters. She was thoughtful and caring, and to Polly's pleasure, helpful.

"Truth is . . . my kids have been running bloody rings around me. Running barefoot with the dogs until all hours." He spoke still fidgeting with his hands. It was true, the kids were always full of energy. She loved her nieces and nephews but they are definitely a handful at times. Vivian didn't know what to say and didn't know what John was going to say. Looking at Arthur, he was thinking the same.

"Pol, give him ten bob for some shoes, Vivian, mind the kids later. Is that it, John?" Tom ordered. Vivian getting stuck minding the kids, seeing them for an hour or two a day was tiring enough.

"Tommy, it would be better to do this without you." Polly spoke sternly to him, almost raising her voice. Tom just huffed, throwing his box of matches on the small bar he leaned on. He was already sick of the little meeting or whatever it was, so were Arthur and Vivian to be fair. Vivian was playing with a small rubber band she forgot she had, pulling it and twisting it around her fingers, bored out of her mind, "Now what's your point?"