1919.
Cora Jane Grayson is the classiest tease on the streets of Small Heath, Birmingham. However, the woman in black and diamonds, finds herself guilty by association when a new Chief Inspector comes over from Ireland and finds her family ties to t...
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The front door slammed as Cora entered her run down apartment. The walls were grimy, the sink was deep and dirty and the floorboards were uneven. But it was a roof over her head.
It would also aggravate her mother to her wits end that a daughter of hers be in such a place. Although, Cora didn't doubt she'd already done that by moving from London to Birmingham.
Red shoes dumped by the door. She pulled the pins out of her hair, blonde curls falling down her back.
Walking through the kitchen living room, Cora dragged her bare feet to the bathroom to bath filled with cold water.
Slipping off the red attire, she slipped her body into the cold water without care for the temperature or the cleanliness of the liquid.
She sat there for an hour, but it her tired state could've been two, pouring water over her shoulders and knee with her hands until she considered herself 'cleaned' for the previous night.
She sat at the kitchen table pondering her thoughts. A warm cuppa, with a splash of milk and teaspoon of sugar, in her hand with slips taken every few minutes. A copy of Hamlet open on the table but sitting at the same page as it was 2 days ago.
Cora had a black leather bound book sitting in front of her with numerous names, money, dates and mathematics scribbled onto the lines, the use of pen clear as errors were neatly scored out. She sat there for hours, after breaking from her daydream, scribbling down the information until there was a knock on the front door.
Slamming the book closed, Cora pulled herself from the breaking seat. She opened the chipped black door, to be welcomed to the form of a woman who looked to be around a similar age to her uncles and was... well dressed.
"Can I help you?" Cora asked with her London accent prominent as she eyed the woman and her clothes.
"Cora Grayson?" The woman asked as she looked the young woman up down, noticing the loose purple dress fitting the girl by a black belt firmly around her waist that was masked a purple cardigan matching the dress. This standard of material was not the material you would see around this part of Small Heath. Cora nodded, a stern expression present on her face.
"I'm Polly Gray. Your mother asked me to find you."
