A FEW NOTES BEFORE YOU START READING.
IF YOU HAVE READ THIS BEFORE I TOOK IT DOWN, THEN YOU WILL MOST SUREDLY NOTICE THAT QUITE A FEW CHANGES HAVE BEEN MADE.
MOST NOTABLY, THE STORY TITLE AND MAIN CHARACTER'S NAME. I CHANGED IT BECAUSE I FELT THAT THEODORA WASN'T WORKING ANYMORE – ANY GRIEVANCES ABOUT THIS MAY BE AIRED IN A POLITE WAY.
IF YOU ARE UNHAPPY WITH WHAT I HAVE DONE WITH THE STORY: THE SIMPLE SOLUTION WOULD BE TO SIMPLY STOP READING AND KEEP ANY RUDE AND HURTFUL COMMENTS TO YOURSELF.
IF YOU DO KEEP READING, THANK YOU SO MUCH.
I DO THIS ENTIRELY ON MY FREE TIME AND TO SATISFY THE SILLY DRAGON-MUSE THAT CLAMBERS ABOUT MY HEAD DEMANDING I FINISH ITS UNINTELLIGIBLE SCRIBBLES. THESE ARE MY OWN PLOTS – BUT ANYTHING THAT YOU DO RECOGNIZE IS ENTIRELY THE PROPERTY OF THE ORIGINAL OWNERS. ALL THE OTHER ORIGINAL CHARACTERS AND PLOT ARE MINE.
I HAVE A TUMBLR DEDICATED TO PEAKY BLINDERS, IF YOU ARE INTERESTED. ( .com)
THAT BEING SAID, I'D LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU ALL THROUGH REVIEWS (OR WHATEVER) AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY WHAT I HAVE DONE.
MUCH LOVE.
Ella shivered slightly as she stepped onto the platform at Duddeston. The late hour made it look like a murder scene before the crime.
Some of her hair had come loose from their pins and fluttered in front of her face. She lifted her carrier higher and exhaled the last of the London air still trapped in her lungs. Her footsteps were determined and she refused to look around despite the paranoia telling her that someone was following her.
The sky was a thick blanket of smog hovering thirty feet or so from the frigid ground; it felt like she'd been trapped in a cage.
Her footsteps echoed sharply around the deserted street, sounding overly loud in her own ears, like the booming heartbeat of a condemned prisoner. She wondered where everyone was but the moment was fleeting and soon she was shaking the thought from her head – she surely didn't want to meet anyone at this late hour.
The pavement, in all its stunning decrepitude, looked as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it, diligently hitting every cement rectangle with enough force to make a network of cracks. The lamppost candles flickered eerily on the pavement and Ella felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
Her knuckles had turned white from the grip on her bag and she swallowed bile as she rounded a corner and suddenly heard noises.
A jabber of unintelligible voices with a rough edge. Her steps slowed and she spotted a group of men ahead. They were joking loudly among themselves, laughing raucously and punching each other's arms. Ella scooted as far to the outside of the pavement as she could.
She fumbled slightly with the clip on her carrier and exhaled with relief when her hand touched the cool metal of the pistol Alfie had forced her to take.
As she got closer to where they were standing, she noticed that they were loitering outside of a pub. Each had a pint in hand and looked as if they'd been there a while.
One of them was walking as if the ground were the deck of a storm-tossed boat. She winced as he lurched and stumbled and then spotted her.
"Oi!" a bony finger raised towards her and the man laughed as Ella slowed and then stopped a few meters from them. "Lads, that's bonny lass, that is!"
His friends cheered and then a cacophony of voices was beckoning her forward – offering their drinks and promises of a good time.
Ella smiled politely and her grip on the pistol tightened. She'd never shot someone before and sent up a quick prayer that the situation didn't change that fact.
She scurried backwards a few paces when a man wearing nothing but pants and suspenders stumbled towards her. She recovered from a stumble and crossed the road, keeping her eyes forward as they yelled out behind her.
She rounded the next corner at a near run and it was much quieter. There were women milling about here, hanging up clothing and Ella breathed a sigh.
Her hand loosened around the gun and she felt around for the scrap of paper her mother had given her before boarding the train.
It was the address of the woman her mother had worked for before marrying her father. Myrtle Lee. Ella wasn't sure if the woman would still be there and hesitated a moment before approaching the nearest low wall.
The house, like all the others, was box-shaped with its front door dead centre, four small windows near each corner and constructed of red brick. A path made from leftover bricks made a shallow S-shape between the gate and the front door. A small rose garden had been planted in front, and although it had obviously once been carefully planned and loved, it was now riddled with weeds.
The woman at the washing line glanced up sharply at Ella's throat clearing. Her messy hair and dirtied skin were a sure sign of rough living – not to mention the worn-out clothes. She was scrawny with an oddly wise look on her face and Ella hesitated again.
"I don't got time for whatever you're tryin' to sell." The woman snapped agitatedly and Ella's face paled.
"Oh, no." she quickly proffered the piece of paper and chewed her lip nervously. "I'm looking for this address. I'm afraid I'm a little lost…"
The woman eyed her and shifted the basket on her hip, snatching the paper and laughing humourlessly. "You're a lot more'n lost. Wrong side of the city, you are. About an hour's walk in those shoes..."
Ella's shoulders sagged and she felt the last couple of days' weight in her bones. She was aware that the woman was staring at her as if she'd lost her mind but she couldn't find it in her to care.
Her shoulders shook with silent sobs and her bag cluttered to the ground. It wasn't the fact that she was on the other side of where she needed to be or that she was tired. She was alone. Alone and utterly terrified that she'd made a mistake by coming here.
She felt a pair of bony arms around her shoulders and someone yelling for a kettle to be boiled and Ella almost laughed. The woman patted her shoulder awkwardly and made soothing noises that Ella was sure weren't meant to sound as patronising as they did.
"We'll get you to where you need to be." The woman whispered and Ella hiccoughed and shook her head. She didn't need the woman's pity. "Oh, come off it. You can spend the night here in Kitty's bed and then we'll get you to Small Heath in the morning."
Ella gasped as the woman shoved something warm against her mouth and choked on the overly sweet tea.
"You owe me for this, Rose." Someone hissed above them and Ella glanced up. The woman glaring down at her was even skinnier than the one next to her but Ella knew she wasn't meek – not in the slightest. "You kick in your sleep and if I wake up bruised tomorrow I'm spitting in your breakfast."
Rose scoffed and heaved herself and Ella up, grabbing the dropped bag and urging Ella to drink the tea she'd been given.
Kitty followed them up the garden path and into the modest house, grumbling under her breath. Rose led her towards the back, past a room with just one sofa and an ancient looking table, and pushed her into a spindly chair in the corner.
Ella's bag was shoved at Kitty with strict instructions to deposit it upstairs. Rose stared at the blonde woman with a pucker between her brows.
"Where're you from, then?"
Ella watched Rose wet a cloth and proffer it to her; she must've smeared mud on her cheeks when she'd wiped at her tears. It wasn't enough to rid her of the grime of travelling but she was grateful nonetheless.
"I'm from up north." Ella sipped at the tea, grimaced and shyly deposited it on the table.
Rose didn't look like she believed a word but Ella ignored the fact. She didn't need to tell her sob story any more than she had to strip naked and dance down the road.
"Kitty's room is across the hall from mine, so if you need anything just knock." Rose motioned her head towards where Kitty had disappeared. "First room on the left."
Ella smiled thankfully and made her way upstairs. Kitty was standing with her arms crossed and watched Ella enter her room with hawk-like eyes.
"Don't touch anything." Was the last thing Ella heard before the door closed behind her.
The morning had faded in like a scene from bad theatre production. The cast stomped about, slamming doors and projecting their voices, then sulking because no-one replied.
Ella watched from the window as wives kissed their husbands and then turned around to yell at barefoot children. The tea that Rose had brought up was, again, too sweet and she'd eyed the cup warily after she found out that Kitty had made it.
Rose had said that one of their neighbours, Mr. Knight, was sending his son into Small Heath for business and that Ella could ride with him.
She donned a fresh dress and growled at her wild hair as she wrestled it into something that resembled neat. Her travelling boots would have to do for the day as well since her nice shoes were being saved.
Kitty had already left for work – at the pub Ella had avoided those men at – and Rose offered her a smile as she came down the stairs. Ella felt embarrassed about her outburst the night before and tried to apologise but Rose waved her off.
They shook hands and words of good luck and that was that.
The Knight's cart was a rickety old thing but Ella was grateful that she didn't have to walk the ten miles without knowing where she was going.
Seth made little conversation after introducing himself but Ella was content to watch Birmingham go by. It was a much different atmosphere during the day.
It was misting slightly but there were still people milling about the streets; greeting each other cordially before crunching on sombrely to wherever they needed to be.
London was much busier during the day and there was a lot of diversity to be seen. Here in Birmingham almost everyone was equally as sombre faced and plodded along as if they had no will other than to exist.
Alfie had always said that London was where dreamers went to die but Birmingham looked like the type of place that no one even dared to dream…
The cart jostled and Ella squealed, clutching her bag to her chest tightly. She'd also grabbed a fistful of Seth's shirt and had to admire his strength for keeping them upright as he wrestled the horse to a standstill.
Ella let go of him, gripped her hat against her head and offered Seth a sheepish smile. "Sorry."
He waved her words off and let go of the reigns as he hopped off to inspect the wheel on his side of the cart. She heard a few colourful curses and sighed dejectedly at her own luck – or lack thereof.
"'s shattered, miss." Seth's head popped up and he looked as apologetic as any stranger could. "But you'll be able to walk comfort'bly from 'ere. A mile to the heart of Small Heath but you're only going s'far as Lower Dartmouth street."
She eyed the road suspiciously and allowed him to help her down, mindful of her skirt. "I suppose it's better than nothing."
She held out her hand with a smile at him and he chuckled as he took it like a gentleman. "We're no more'n a ten-minute walk away. Just go straight down this road and turn left at the end. Straight down until you come to Lower Dartmouth. The bakery's on the left side; can't miss it."
She nodded despite herself and huffed a sigh before setting off towards where he'd pointed. She was attracting a lot of attention from the people she passed on the street.
Women stared at her clothes and men smirked at their own dirty thoughts. She readjusted her hat and cleared her throat after passing a group who all laughed at her discomfort.
She wondered how often these people saw newcomers; Birmingham wasn't so small to evoke so much attention and yet she could feel the stares like nails against her back.
Someone apologised quickly after accidentally shoving roughly against her elbow. Ella turned and noticed a small girl trailing behind the four other boys; sucking on her thumb as her dark hair swung around her waist. She couldn't have been older than five.
The oldest boy – she guessed from his height – held her hand as another boy, with dark hair like hers, listened to him talk. Her angelic little face was grey and pulled into a miserable frown and her dress was torn in three separate places, splattered with mud.
The boy tugged her hand; Ella heard the girl whine. "Come on, Katie, I need to go, hurry up! They're waitin'."
"I'm tired, Finn!" she whined again and Ella's heart wrenched as a few tears dripped at the end of her chin. "Don't wan'o go 'nymore!"
"Katie!"
The girl had yanked her hand away from the boy's and had stopped dead in front of Ella, who promptly swerved to avoid a collision.
"Jesus, Katie!" the younger, dark-haired boy exclaimed, pulling her against his chest as she started to cry. "Sorry, miss, my sister ain't feeling too well. She's been whinin' all day."
Ella waved the boy off and leaned down to look at the girl. "Darling, are you alright?"
"Sorry." The little girl hiccoughed and unfolded herself from her brother's embrace. "Sorry, miss, sorry. Didn't mean to!"
Ella cooed and put a hand against her forehead – warm. "Don't worry about it. I'm supposed to watch where I go; you'd been walking there. Do you have a headache?"
The little girl nodded, frowning at the ground and nibbling on her thumbnail as Ella sighed. She glanced at the boys – two of whom she realised were twins – and then lifted the little girl into her arms. "Would one of you strong boys mind carrying my bag? I'll walk with you to where you need to be."
The oldest boy, Finn, raised a sceptical eyebrow at her and glanced at the other boys. "I was s'posed to drop 'em at the Parlour. Aunt Pol said that someone was gonna come look after 'em."
Ella chewed her lip and nodded. "I'll walk with you."
Finn smiled at her, though it was a bit forced, and turned immediately. He lifted her bag and handed the other handle to the other boy as Katie lay her head against Ella's shoulder.
They were leading her down a smaller road in the opposite direction of where she'd been heading. The twins, adorably fresh faced, walked on either side of her and after a few paces one of them took her free hand and grinned up at her.
"I'm James Shelby." He then pointed to the other one, grinning just as wide. "Jacob's that one. Katie's our sister."
Ella chuckled at him and felt Katie shift against her. "Ella Fitzpatrick. Nice to meet you, Misters Shelby."
Their chests puffed with pride and she noticed Finn eyeing her again before shaking his head and whispering something to the other boy.
"That's Finn and William." Jacob said. He was much quieter than James but his eyes held twice the mischief. "Finn's our uncle."
Ella nodded and noticed the lane that Finn had turned onto was much neater. The houses were all perfectly symmetrical and the sidewalk wasn't as cracked.
Finn stopped in front of a dark door and set her bag down. The windows were all boarded up and she could hear a lot of voices inside. "Here we are. She can walk the bit from here, thank you miss."
She watched him take out a pound and offer it to her. Her face obviously conveyed her surprise because he just sighed, opened her bag and dropped the note into it.
She almost lunged at him but remembered Katie and watched his eyes widen at the pistol atop her clothes before he was turning accusing eyes at her.
"I'm glad to have helped." She gently handed Katie to William, who grunted under the little girl's weight, and reclaimed her bag from Finn; snapping it shut and clutching it to her chest. "Could you please tell me how to get to Lower Dartmouth street from here?"
James jumped forward and tugged at the bottom of her dress excitedly. "We can take you, miss Ella! Jacob and me, we'll take you!"
Finn was shaking his head at them and Ella smiled kindly at the little boy. "I don't want to upset your parents. I can make my own way; but thank you for offering."
The twins' faces fell and Finn pushed them towards the door William had disappeared through before turning back to face her. "Down straight, left and after another five yards a right. Should take you directly."
She nodded at him and she saw his eyes flicker to her bag before he too entered the house. She was sure that he was wondering about the gun but knew better than to ask – she was thankful that he hadn't.