Y O U R C R U C I B L E
"May you be in heaven a full half hour before the devil knows you're dead."
Lottie Thorne, sister of the notorious Freddie Thorne, is counted as part of the Shelby family. And her loyalty is...
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"you okay?"
Later that evening, Polly and Lottie sat at the kitchen table, drinking their coffee, talking every so often, but comfortable in their silence. Finn suddenly ran in and grabbed their portrait of the King. Lottie looked at him curiously. "Finn, what are you doing?" She asked.
"Tommy said we're having a fire on Watery Lane," he explained and then he rushed back out of the room.
Lottie looked up at Polly. "Right," she muttered as the two women then stood to make their way over.
The fire was large with multiple portraits of the king already in flames, a crowd formed around it, cheering as they threw them in. "Can I ask why?" Lottie said to John.
He opened his mouth to answer when someone pushed between them. "Coming through," they said. "Move back for us, please, folks," they instructed.
Lottie and John stepped away along with the others, whilst making sure she was still in earshot of what they were saying.
"You're Mr Shelby?" The man said.
"I am," Tommy nodded.
"You said I would be protected," he stated.
He nodded. "You're protected."
"What's going on?" The man asked.
"There are some things I want you to write down," Tommy instructed. "Now, first of all, it's not that people around here are disloyal to the king. It's the opposite. You see, we don't want our beloved king looking down and seeing the things that are being done to us. So, we are taking down his pictures."
"But why are you burning them?" The man stuttered.
"We went through hell for our king," he said simply. "Walked through the flames of war. Write all this down. And now we're being attacked in our own homes. These new coppers over from Belfast, breaking into our homes and interfering with our women. We don't think our king would want to see that happening. So, we are lighting fires to raise the alarm."
"May I ask you, in what capacity do you speak?"
Tommy shook his head. "No capacity. I'm an ordinary man. I won gallantry medals at the Somme. I want you to write in your paper what's going on here. Go on, go."
