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☾ 𝑇𝑊𝐸𝑁𝑇𝑌 𝑇𝑊𝑂
Settling in with her mother and brother had been easy. They talked of anything, of what the sea was like crashing on Australia's beaches, their favourite foods and drink and even how different their lives had been when all three had been apart. But no matter how much she loved her time in Small Heath with her family, Anna couldn't ignore the dark cloud that was cast over their home- she walked into it every time she crossed the threshold.
Something had happened, she'd gathered as much from Michael's reluctance to spend time alone in the house without her there. But the nature of the event in question, Anna didn't have the faintest of ideas about what it could have been. Polly refused to talk of anything before she had come that didn't have to do with Anna directly, and as the days flew by, evidence of Polly Gray's self warranted seclusion would resurface, blaringly obvious to Anna's watching eyes.
Michael would come and go as often as he pleased. He always wore a navy suit, the expensive kind she'd seen the first time they'd greeted, so she knew he had to be important in some way. Each time he walked into the house, a smile on his face, his shoulders would tense and Polly would insist they do something 'worthwhile'.
"Come on. Michael will drive us to the house in Sutton. We could go out for a day somewhere, take the car and a picnic," Polly said, leaning forward to grip her hands happily. "What do you think?"
Anna couldn't help but smile. Her mother loved to talk about her home as if it were a third child. There was something about that building, she'd said, that made her believe that things were meant to be. Anna herself had felt that before, so she could do nothing but agree.
"I'd love to," she said, gripping her hands as her mother did.
Polly was on her feet instantly, slipping around the coffee table and into the kitchen, her strong voice echoing against the red walls. In the time since Anna had returned home, she'd straightened herself out noticeably. Even Anna could see.
"Brilliant. Grab your coat. You did have a coat, didn't you?" she said, turning to shout up the stairs. "Michael?"
Michael slipped through the doorway, hands in his pockets, face grimacing.
"I'm here mum," he snapped, the hint of an eye roll behind his bothered look.
"Don't whine," Polly said as she bustled across the kitchen, packing left over sandwiches into a wicker basket.
"Calm down, will you?" Michael said, taking the basket from her, before she could swing it from the bench.
Polly scowled for a moment. "Sorry, I'm just excited," she said, pausing again, releasing a smile. "Don't you remember when you first saw the house? Good god, you had to order the maid around for me, I didn't like to do it. Not in the proper way at least."
