enchanted
chapter 30, a family united.

•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

Rory, Freya and Michael were eventually joined by the rest of the family and when John walked in and saw his daughter sitting at the table with a pot of jam and a loaf of bread, he raised his eyebrows.

"Hungry, are we?" he teased.

Rory pointed her bread knife at him, "Well, considering neither you or mum gave me time to eat this morning, yes I am hungry."

"We gave you time you just wanted extra sleep, you really live up to your name," John laughed and watched Ada set Karl to play with his toys. 

As she stood, she addressed the family, "The thing is, we all naturally came in here, where the servants eat".

Rory rolled her eyes. "Do you have to make everything political?" she asked as her dad sat next to her.

"Oh, it's nothing to do with politics, Ada," John said, looking at the new bruise on Rory's wrist, pulling her wrist closer to him giving her a questioning look. "It's fucking freezing up in the big room."

"John, mind your language in front of Karl," Polly said.

"Ada, we're in the servant's quarters because it's where the fucking booze is kept," Arthur replied.

"And food, lots of food," Rory added, pulling her sleeve back down again and ignoring her dad giving a look to Freya and Lottie.

"Arthur, find better words," Polly sighed.

"Hey, Pol, does swearing in Gypsy count?" John asked.

"There's no reason for us to be speaking worker or shelter in any case," Polly said, and the Shelby's burst into cheers. Polly sighed, "I'm just saying, there is no need."

"When she's drunk, my wife can't speak fucking English," John said.

Rory nodded and hummed, "I can't made head nor tail of what she's saying so I just nod along and smile."

"John! " Polly shouted, pointing the knife towards Karl and now Rory who had decided to sit on the floor with him after she'd finished eating.

"Did you even chew any of that?" Arthur asked the girl, sitting on the floor who pointed to her mouth as still chewing.

"Fucking right," Arthur agreed.

Michael appeared in the kitchens, and a silence fell over the family. Polly looked at her son, "You dealt with it?"

"Incentives, no threats," Michael said. "Implied consequences without specific reference to physical harm."

"That's why young Michael is the boss," Arthur said slowly. "He knows better words, right, Pol?"

"Since when was I your boss, Arthur?" Michael asked.

"First the boss meets you," John said. "Then the workers meet you".

"When did either of you do a day's work?" Finn asked. 

Rory laughed rolling her eyes when she knew what her dad and uncle were going to say, "Here he goes with the whole in the old days."

"In the old days, Finn," Arthur said, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. "Family meetings used to be all of us, together."

"Arthur, shut up," Polly sighed.

"Now, me and John..." Arthur said, swirling his whiskey round in the glass. "We're just fucking bin men whose duty it is to obey," he held up his glass to make a toast. "Ms Changretta."

"Arthur, shut up," Polly repeated gently. "Finn, go and get us cigars and take Rory and your sister with you." 

Rory stayed seated on the floor with Karl being too nosey to leave. "So what are we gonna do all night, eh?" John asked. "Climb fucking trees?"

"John, stop swearing in front of Karl," Polly scolded, pointing Karl.

"Yeah," Ada agreed. "And who said you're staying the night?"

"Uncle Tom said I am," Rory told her aunt watching the woman close her eyes.

"Yes I know, Ro."

"Good luck, she's murder to get up, she sleeps like the dead now. A lot worse than when she was younger," John chuckled, shaking his head.

"You know I can still hear you right? Just because you have cloth ears."

"I know what we can do," Arthur spoke up. "We get the guns out, John. We go outside and we shoot some fucking pheasants. That's what the bosses do, isn't it?"

"Yeah," John laughed.

"Fuck off, Arthur," Michael whispered.

Arthur leaned back in his chair, "Fuck you just say to me?"

"I didn't ask for separate meetings today, alright?" Michael said.

"No. No, what the fuck did you just say?" Arthur growled. "Cause I didn't fucking hear you right."

"Arthur, calm down. Michael shut up," Rory told them sternly pushing Arthur from Michael while John pushed Michael back. As they were literally forehead to forehead and looked about ready to start throwing punches.

Michael turned to Arthur. "I didn't ask for separate meetings today, alright?"

"What part of "Michael shut up" don't you bloody understand. It means shut your mouth and stop talking," Rory said, glaring at him.

"Fucking pheasant!" Karl exclaimed, and everyone froze.

Rory and Freya burst out laughing as Ada walked over to her son. "Karl. You can't say things like that."

"Now look what you've done," Polly said sternly.

"Alright, brothers," Arthur chuckled, putting his arms around Michael and John. "It's just the fucking whiskey talking."

"I don't ask to be protected, alright?" Michael whispered.

"For christ's sake, shut the fuck up," Rory snapped. "You're pissing me off now."

"Right, shut up," Pol snapped. "The four of you. Sit down. Sit down." The boys and Rory all sat down at the table. "Look around you. And look at this house. Look where we are. And look how far we've come. I think it's about time we all started acting in a way more appropriate to our station. We're none of us bin men anymore, Arthur. Tommy needs us all together. I'd like to propose a toast," Polly said, holding up a bottle. "It's a family united that shall never be defeated."

Footsteps echoed through the kitchens, and Finn burst through the doorway, out of breath, "Tommy's gone. Swear to God, he's in a wagon with Johnny Dogs."

"Shit," Polly swore, as the Shelby family headed upstairs.

"This is what he does, now," Arthur sighed, shrugging on his jacket.

They reached the front of the house only to see Tommy riding away down the driveway in a horse-drawn wagon. Rory watched as John and Arthur gave up trying to chase him, and said, "Don't know why they thought that would help. He's not coming back is he?"

"It said he'll be back in Birmingham in three days," Ada said, looking at the note left by Tommy on the dresser in the hall.

"Didn't he used to sleep outside when he was a kid? He used to tell my stories when I was younger to help me sleep," Rory asked and both Pol and Ada nodded.

"Let him go," Polly sighed. "The important thing is, if he says he'll be back, he'll be back. Come on, let's go light a fire in the big room. Let's go drink whiskey." Polly glanced back at the boys, "With water."