Freedom - John Shelby

6

A week passed since that night and there had yet to be another date. In fact, the pair had hardly seen each other.

John and Tommy had been in Manchester for a few nights, just coming back that morning and much to Alice's dismay; John said nothing when he finally walked into the kitchen. Everyone was sat eating breakfast, watching the two blood stained men pace across the room. John didn't even give Alice a look of acknowledgment as she smiled up at him.

Arthur and Polly shot each other a seemingly knowing look. He stood up and immediately paced into the office, slamming the door behind him as he did.

"What's going on? Is John okay?" Alice asked Polly with concern.

The older woman could see the budding love and affection Alice had for her nephew, just from looking into her eyes when she said his name. It partially subsided any worries she might've had about the girl breaking his heart in the destructive manner she'd once been known for.

"I'm sure he'll be fine." She nodded with a drag from her cigarette, although she herself was also slightly concerned. It was business that she'd told them not to do and they did it anyway. If something terrible had happened then that was on their conscious and not hers - so she decided not to check immediately, at least not in front of Alice.

The younger woman was fighting every urge inside her body; to shout at Polly, to curse at her, to demand the truth, to run into the office and see for herself. A few years ago it would've been her instant response with no after thought. But alas, things had changed, so she sat in silence and finished her breakfast before promptly leaving to head to The Garrison.

It was a couple hours until opening but there was some cleaning and stock taking that needed doing. And besides, she liked being there. The silent mornings in that pub, sun shining through the tinted windows and all doors locked, had become a therapeutic time for Alice - the only time she was ever really alone.

Counting the till was tedious though this particular morning, her mind racing with angry thoughts of Polly and worried ones for John. His expression was something she'd never seen on him before and she could only assume the worst, thinking perhaps he'd brutally killed someone or seen something awful.

"Or maybe he's found another lady while he was away." The insecure thoughts began to seep in. "Maybe they're gonna kick you out because of it and that's why they all looked at each other funny."

She couldn't help but feel extremely betrayed at the imaginary notion, thinking back to the private things she'd told him and now starting to question if he'd have told anyone the things she said. This was the first time she'd ever doubted his care was true since that night; insecurity and paranoia suddenly seeping in by the gallon. Rationally, she knew that his mood that morning was probably unrelated to her- he did lead a rather tumultuous lifestyle after all. But now that seed had been planted it started to quickly grow, forming into a big, tangly, sharp thorn bush.

It was a few hours of the thorns digging into her brain until she finally gave in and physically reacted, heading to the utensil drawer. There was one particularly sharp knife that she'd desperately wanted to steal, small but with a weighted wooden handle it fit perfectly into her palm when she'd used it to cut lemons once under Harry's watchful eye. She could tell that he would immediately notice if it went missing and definitely know who took it - the answer was stupidly obvious.