Polly and Ada sat in Ada's living room, both purposefully ignoring the others circumstance. Polly didn't listen for the crying of a child she hadn't seen in a year or question her nieces company. In turn Ada didn't question the bruises on her aunts neck.
"Remember the words you told me when I was pregnant with Karl?" Ada said to break the silence.
"You're a whore, babies a bastard. I remember." Polly replied without eye contact.
"Same words I guess. 'Cept your boy is a jailbird. . .But there's still no words for the man who takes without permission."
"All my boys are jailbirds, some just never get caught." joked Polly, forced laughter masking her discomfort.
Ada smiled, enduring her brothers antics was a shared burden they bore.
"Your man stayed. Fucking senseless death, but he stayed. More than most Shelby women can say. And Karl is no more of a bastard than Tommy." Polly continued, talk of her family bringing a smile to her face.
"Tommy's always been a bastard." Ada laughed, Interrupted by the doorbell.
"Speak of the devil."
Polly's eyes narrowed, she knew when she was being handled.
"You called Tommy?" she asked, incredulous.
But Ada was already at the door, letting her brother in. Their greeting forced and formal, brought together by duty more than love.
Tommy strolled into the living room, and saw that Polly looked like hell, but she didn't need to hear that.
It was easy to forget how small Polly could be, Tommy noticed that the day he came back from France. He had remembered the puffed up woman who saw him and Arthur off with a bottle of brandy and packed lunches. But on his first night home, once Ada and Finn were tucked up in bed, he saw her deflate. Tired and alone, she looked just the same now and once again Tommy remembered he wasn't the only one fighting a war.
Ada excused herself, giving to two space.
"Found yourself in the horrors ey Pol?" Tommy asked with a lightness in his voice that could never match his heavy eyes.
"I drank too much." admitted Polly, her hand stressfully massaging her temple.
"No you didn't, come on. I'll drive you home."
The two made their way to the car in silence. Once inside Polly reached straight for the smoke box and immediately lit herself a cigarette. The drive to Polly's home was long and quiet, she didn't feel like talking and Thomas was not the kind of man to push.
Once they arrived at Polly's house, Polly went straight upstairs to change. Leaving Tommy downstairs with the maid. He told her to busy herself and leave them be.
"Tea?" he offered
"You drink tea with women and children. Brandy is for business" Polly looked slighted, and more than a little ashamed
"This isn't business Pol" Tommy told her, as serious as he was loving.
She took her seat in the corner of the sofa, slumping her forehead into her hand.
Tommy sat across from Polly, eyes piercing as ever.
"It's okay when it's us, right Pol? When it's Arthur or John people die and god forbid it's Ada or Finn. But we take our blows for this family" Tommy said. Both reassuring and asking for reassurance.
"Do you remember the old house? When we shared a yard with the Lee's, You probably don't, you were so young" Polly reminisced, desperate to escape eye contact and the impending conversation.
"It had one bed and the rats were bigger than Ada. I remember." followed Tommy
"Yeah that's the one., The rats were bigger than you." Polly agreed
"One of the older Lee boy's threw you into The Cut once. You's were fighting, probably something stupid. And when we fished you out you know what you said?" continued Polly.
Tommy lit a cigarette, and offered one to his aunt which she took.
"What did I say Polly?" he asked intensely.
"You smiled that fucking get away with murder smile you still fucking have, and told me you were glad they pushed you in because John was too little to push them back. That was the first time I looked at you and saw you just like your mum." she sighed some kind of relief.
"Me and Arthur threw Walter Lee into The Cut the next week." Tommy said, with that same smile cracking through the serious look.
"I never knew that." Polly matched his look with knowing eyes. She always knew.
They were silent a while after that, at some point Tommy moved from his seat across from her to sitting at his aunt's side. She lay her head on his shoulder as he had often done when he was young.
"You know this wasn't right don't you Pol? This wasn't right," Tommy told her.
"No Thomas, No I don't." she admitted.
"Say the words he dies tonight. I mean that. Any role he could play in any plan is not worth your hurt." promised Tommy, sincerity bleeding through every word.
Polly perked up at that. Strength and a plan brewing in her mind. She squeezed tightly on her nephews knee.
"He dies tomorrow. . . My hand." Polly swore.
Tommy squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "Don't fuck with The Peaky Blinders."