Polly's Boys

Harsh Truths

" Move aside you selfish brat! You and I are going to talk!" Polly Gray roughly shoved her son into his own door frame as she stormed in like a hurricane. Devlin rolled his eyes and stepped aside, allowing her to walk briskly into his office. At least she wasn't going to take him to task out in the open foyer. He noticed the maids slowly dusting, head tilted listening.

"Get back to work." He grumbled out as he rounded the corner shaking his head. He'd had a few busy days at work. He had been trying to avoid adding more to his growing list of problems. Alfie Solomons. Darbini Sabini and Thomas Shelby seemed to be coming out of the woodwork with nothing but theatrical problems to his empire.

"Come on in, mum. Make yourself at home. I'm doing well, thanks for asking." He sarcastically talked to himself as he walked into his office. She stood by his desk clearly looking over his documents. Her energy filled the room buzzing like a hornet. She was clearly still upset about his brother's imprisonment.

Devlin had never sat in jail or prison for anything. He had a knack or a streak of good luck, depending on who told his story, for not getting caught. It was a good problem to have.

"I have been calling for days, don't you dare tell me your phone doesn't work." Her heels clicked loudly on the marble tiles in his office. He rolled his eyes. He'd already had a headache today. His mother looked put together in a fashionable coat, dress and hat. He saw a flash of pain marr her lovely features. It was a mask.

"I don't. The phone line is messed up. I'm waiting for the phone company to come out and replace the cable. Go out back and look at the box. Something to do with a grounding wire." Devlin lit a cigarette and watched her approach him like a crazed dog. She didn't believe him. He was telling the truth though, well partially. He had tampered with it intentionally to get a few days worth of peace.

A swift smack and dull pain filled his head. She'd slapped him upside the head with her bag. It was heavy and stiff as if she was carrying paperwork or bricks within it's satin confines.

"What the hell woman!" He raised his hands to defend himself from an upcoming onslaught of assaults from the woman who'd given birth to him. "Will you fucking stop!?" He managed to grab her arm and twist her. Her back was firmly against his chest as his long strong arms wrapped around her. She stilled almost instantly. The dam finally broke however, a harsh sob wracked her thin frame causing him to brace himself to keep her from falling to her knees.

He cursed softly. Had he spoken to her a few days ago, she wouldn't have gotten this far in her rage. "Mum, we're gonna walk to the couch,alright. I'll ring for some tea, you can talk.." He gently pulled his arms back a bit but kept them strong so she could brace against him as she walked.

This wasn't right. Something else had happened. She was acting strangely and walking in a stiff manner. He could feel the anger with himself and whoever hurt her kindling and cracking in his chest ready to consume.

He managed to arrange her comfortably on his red velvet settee and rang the maids bell. A girl spilled in from the door quickly and curtsied.

"I need some hot tea, biscuits and little sandwiches please." He ordered calmly.He was sitting on his heels looking up at her. She was a mess. His hand was shaking holding hers. She looked like she hadn't slept in days. Dark circles rimmed her chocolate brown orbs. Her hair was a mess under her hat. He'd been right, it was a facade.

He felt horrible being so selfish. She needed him and he'd dropped the ball.

"You and I need to talk....something happened when I asked for Michael's release. I can't...I can't tell Tommy or Ada." Her voice rose and cracked. He could tell she had a lump in her throat. One was starting to form in his throat constricting his breathing.