Nothing Will Change

Chapter 46

Rose sat in the front of the van beside Tommy and John. It was nothing like the car they normally drove in, or any car she had ridden in. Wedged beside Tommy, Rose was appreciative she wasn't in the back with the rest of the men, because she wouldn't want to be sat in the open cold. Though suppose they were used to it, as painful as it felt to assume. They had driven to pick up Micheal, who surprised Rose as she was not expecting him to come. But it was nice to have him.

It was the first time Rose had seen Polly's new home. It blended into the other suburban houses the way she didn't, Tudor inspired with so many windows. Polly deserved a house as beautiful as it was, with an open front garden and space for a car. She leaned forward to get a better look, gawking at it like it was a dollhouse. All the dark browns suited Polly, it would match her luxury. As she stared, John slammed his palm on the horn, causing her to jump and send him a look.

Polly was furious, John merely smirking as he sank in his seat. Michael soon followed her out with a satchel over his arm. She hugged and kissed him goodbye, an oxymoron to how Rose often saw her. She even watched as they left, waving a hand to Micheal before going back inside. If Micheal was never taken perhaps that was who she would have always been. If the war never happened she was also certain she wouldn't have had to harden, but then she would never have had control. Beside her Tommy propped his arm up on the window, cigarette in his fingers.

So quickly she got used to the smoke, so quickly it had become something she was close to. It was like a friend, a companion, her guardian as she spoke to Tommy. More and more it gave her confidence, even if it wasn't her lungs it was entering. Maybe it was second hand, which she invited, if it made her closer to Tommy. She'd watch it's whimsical trace up and out of the car, as though it was being shunned, and she almost wished to close the window and be trapped in it. To be trapped in its grey that made her so calm, that made him so calm, and made his voice that much more punctured and deep. Rose licked her lips, wanting to know what it tasted like, if it tasted how it smelt.

She hadn't noticed how long it had been in the car, the trees and pathways all looked the same. It was too bleak for there to be flowers, and she hated that, because her way to pass the time was gone. She'd guess the flowers, guess the trees by their leaves, but they all looked the same so bare. She debated falling asleep, until John pulled over to the side of the road, smoke rising from the bonnet. They rattled to a halt, Tommy heading out quickly to assess the damage. Holding his hand out, he helped her out first, Rose folding her arms.

"She's heating up Curly, take a look," Tommy ordered Curly as he pulled down the back of the van.

"Yeah," Curly nodded and climbed out.

Charlie followed him out to urinate on a bush, Rose grimacing. It had been long enough to where they weren't too worried about how Rose saw them, which made her closer to the family, but also like she was no longer a lady. Catching her eye, Micheal was taking out something from his bag. He placed a bundle of cloth where Charlie sat, unraveling it to reveal a pile of sandwiches. Rose held back a smile.

"She made loads. Do you want one?" He offered.

"What the bloody hell's that?" Arthur questioned.

"Sandwiches," he clarified, "ham, I think. And we've got shrimp paste too. There's tea, but we'll have to take turns cos there's only one cup. What?"

John snagged the bottle and smelt it, all of them grinning at the young man.

"Sandwiches?" Arthur repeated.

"Yeah."

"Polly made bloody sandwiches?"

Even Tommy was smiling, which made Rose warm as he tried to disguise it. It was so comforting having someone apart from Curly who wasn't so hardened. Who was innocent. And Rose loved that Polly only accentuated it.