Anja – ahn-yuh
Bringing goodness. Gracious. Merciful.
Sonja – sown-yuh
Wisdom.
-o-
My mother and father were very lucky. In the mornings they would take tea and in the evenings they would break bread. At night, they would share a bed and dream together. On Sundays they would walk along the edges of the backyard hand in hand. Through the years, they would create four beautiful children with one another. They made a good team; my father was the figurehead and my mother was the support and combined they were the body.
On weekdays my mother would sit in the far corner of my father's office and paint, listening carefully to my father and the business he conducted. Her hazel eyes were sharper than a barber's blade, and no man with half of a brain that did business with the family dared to question her presence.
Her ears were tentative, more persistent than the lapping waves of her homeland. There were times that I would sit by her side, watching her careful strokes or my father's work. Between business meetings my mother would go to my father's side and hold his shoulder securely, murmuring her own thoughts with great urgency.
The only soft spots on my mother were her hands and her heart. She was the sun and the wind at the same time. My father was the harbor.
-o-
When I arrived in Birmingham, one of the first things I did was find the bakery that my sister had written about. A large purse that I slung over my shoulder and a travel bag that was strapped to my chest proved to be mildly cumbersome right up until the very end of my journey. Many eyes followed me from the moment I arrived, but I noticed a seldom few who chose to whisper in my wake.
Speculation about a woman traveling alone by foot, the sun beating down on my black clothes, and the lackluster of my light eyes followed me. I was not in London any longer, a place where I could often go unnoticed in many crowds. I passed tailors, blacksmiths, barbershops, produce stands, and bars before I came across the bakery that was wedged between a butcher and a sweets shop. The display window had three perfectly frosted cakes in front, just as Anja had described. The letter was curled in my hand.
"Sonja, I've known you since the day mother brought you into this world. I hope you trust me when I say you'd love it here. I know decorating has only ever been a hobby for you and that you took dearly to working with father, but I often imagine that it is you who ices the three scrumptious cakes that the kids and I pass every day. Admittedly, they have less attention to detail than you do, but they are still beautiful.
"Anita and Anton gurgle in absolute joy when we pass the brilliantly decorated window, and I stop there with them everyday on our early afternoon walks. I daydream that when they are older, their tiny hands will curl into my skirt, making pleas to stop and pick up sticky buns. "
Why Anja was so committed to those A names, I would never know. Personally, I would have loved to see my niece and nephew named after any of our grandparents. The most fondness for those names I had was that they were both arguably Swedish, like our own names and our mothers, who was a Romani from Sweden herself. Another sentiment I was apprehensive of was the fact that Anja believed I would love it in Birmingham. Looking around me, I saw smoke and mud. London always left a bittersweet taste in my mouth. At the least, Birmingham was quieter.
I had trudged into the bakery after rereading Anja's letter for another time and admiring the window for several minutes. Of the three cakes, only two were decorated. Without any regard to the people who were inhabiting the shop- two men and their wives, four children, and an elderly woman- I put down my bags at an empty table and filed myself into the short line at the counter. My eyes glazed over as I regarded the sugar-topped scones and cinnamon rolls.
"Miss, what can I get for you?"
The woman who asked me had kind brown eyes, aging chestnut hair, and a guarded husband who was evaluating me with mistrust.
Smiling to try to ease the tension, I replied, "May I please have a sticky bun? Also, might I ask how much a three layer cake with plain white frosting is?"
"Well, love, the sticky bun will be seven pennies and the cake would cost you ten shillings without the decorating. Fifteen if you change your mind," she went and grabbed a piece of bakers parchment and plucked up the treat. After quickly procuring the seven pennies, I carefully counted out fifteen shillings on the counter with a click each. The balls of her cheeks wound up in a smile, "So you'll take the full frostin', I suppose. Which one did you have in mind, then?"
I shook my head, "I'm looking for employment. I'd like the plain cake, but I was hoping you'd let me decorate it." The woman behind the counter unsurely looked at her husband, who stepped forward with his head already beginning to shake back and forth. Having been the one to deal with applicants for a position before, I knew the words he was ready to say to me.
"Before you turn me away," I piped in quickly, "I want to make you a deal."
"Sorry, lass. I don't often make deals with strangers," he quipped.
"I don't often ask people to make deals with strangers," I urged.
With crossed arms, he took a step closer to the counter and I. Looking down his nose at me he asked, "Then what's the occasion?"
I bit my lip. Though the truthful words wanted to spill from me, instead I said, "There's no occasion besides desperately being in need of work."
His arms uncrossed and I knew I had won his ear.
"Fine," he relented, "What's your deal?"
"If this cake sells by the end of the day," I began, "You get to keep my fifteen shillings and what you make off the cake, but you give me position in this bakery. If it doesn't sell, I'll take my job hunt elsewhere."
The man frowned through his thick mustache, and watched my shoulders shrug. Keeping my chin up and my eyes steady, I waited patiently before he said, "I'm not cleaning up any mess you make. And neither is Alice."
Nodding I felt my stomach jump at the next chip in his resolve, "I wouldn't expect you to. I also bring my own piping materials."
He was still as I went to my carry on bag and pulled out my apron, made of simple dark blue cotton, and a smaller bag, which held my dying ingredients and my piping tips.
He still did not look convinced. He glanced at his customers, who made a point to look away hurriedly with the exception of the wide-eyed children.
I took him for a traditional man who would take pity on a woman in need and I found myself earnestly saying, "Mister Baker, I've been mourning my father for a week's time. Without him, I've come to Birmingham looking for a new start. I have only just arrived, but I am ready to work. I'll start out on the lowest wage for a place to put my skills to use and a corner to sleep in."
"Robert…" the woman named Alice took her hand and wrapped it loosely around the man's hulking forearm, "Let's give the lass a chance. With Jack married and moved out, things have been different. We have got a bed to spare and work to be done."
"You've got guts, girl," Robert finally said, "You're lucky my wife has taken to you. She's hardheaded herself."
"Marie," I insisted, "Please call me Marie."
"No," he replied, "We won't be getting familiar unless the cake sells." With this, he disappeared through a door before I could respond.
Alice beamed over the counter, "It's why he married me. The hardheaded nature, that is. Now listen, Robbie is sweet. After all, we are bakers. But he is no joker. If you want to work, you've got to sell this cake. You're lucky, because it is only quarter past eight and we'll have many more customers today."
My head nodded many times, "I'll need frosting, a spinning decorating platform, granulated sugar, and a table for my tools if you can spare it."
Right then Robert came back through the door with fresh bread in a basket, "You can have it all, we have a station set up in the back for decorating."
Before he could disappear again, I said, "I was hoping to set up in the front room. Alice said herself that you'll have many more customers today. I've already generated gossip by being a stranger here. Let's set the town ablaze with rumors about my decorating demonstration. It'll give me the best shot at selling."
Robert grunted, but once again disappeared through the doors. When he came back, he had a small wooden table held in one hand and a spinning platform in the other. With a thunk he set the table to the far left of the counter, the platform soon after. Alice ducked out from behind the counter and went to the display window to carefully take out the plain white cake for me.
"Thank you. Thank you both for this chance. I hope to not disappoint," I called after him as he went to grab the frosting and sugar.
Just as four other customers walked through the door for their baked goods, Alice set down the cake on the platform with a wink. Reaching for two small blackboards on miniature easels and blue chalk from my bag, I set to writing two signs.
The first read, "Today's third cake coming to you soon! Come inside to witness its decoration!" It was set in the display window where the plain cake had been.
The second read, "Please stay three paces back as the decorator works." It sat several paces to the side of the table. I then ate my sticky bun, set my bags under the table and out of sight, and washed my hands. Without further delay I set out my bowls, power, and piping tips and got to mixing.
-o-
"So whatcha doing now?"
Looking up from my work, I saw the same four kids from when I arrived still sitting in the bakery.
"Shut up Katie, she's workin!" the oldest boy squawked. The bell above bakery door rang again.
Behind them, a crowd of ten or twelve people had gathered. The bakery bell had been going off frequently through the last hour and many feet had stopped to watch me work. Several of them had baked goods in their hands, much to my anticipation.
"John, don't be such a lummox," the next oldest boy said and put a hand on Katie's head while he held the youngest in his other arm, "It's her birthday."
I smiled at the rowdy kids, using the back of my hand to push a stray hair from my forehead, "Don't worry kids, I can talk and work. No need to squabble."
The boy whose name was John shot back, "We ain't squabblin'!"
I chuckled, "I had two older brothers and an older sister. We used to fight all of the time." Previously I had piped a delicate blue lace pattern halfway up the cake and I was finishing kneading a white fondant. I began rolling it out with my walnut rolling pin.
"I'm going to make a ribbon for the middle of the cake," I took a sharp blade and sliced swiftly, making two perfect lines through the fondant. The boys oo-ed softly. I then reached for my powders, my fingers nimbly dancing over their caps, "What color do you think we should make the sugar on the ribbon, Katie, was it?"
"I like the color pink," she said shyly.
"Of course you'd want that color," John scoffed.
"Pink is as good a color any," I said, putting a small amount of beet powder into a new bowl before pouring some granulated sugar in. I showed the children the contents with a raised brow before tossing it into the air and catching it again three times in a row, "How old are you today?"
"'M four!" she laughed. I grabbed a baking sheet with parchment on it and set it close for use. The bowl with the sugar still was in my grip as I looked playfully at the kids.
Taking up a measured cup of chilled water, I held it out for Katie, "Well, that makes you practically an adult. Why don't you help me and pour this water in?" She did so gladly. I thanked her and took my wooden spoon out of my apron, stirring and pouring the small excess liquid back into the cup.
The sugar was set out to dry on the pan before taking white frosting into a new bowl and putting blueberry juice into it. I made quick work of stirring it up, my eyes watching the street outside the window. The sun hung showing it to be nearing half past ten. The white became a light indigo frosting and I filled my piping bag with the new mixture.
"What're you hummin'? You've been on the same one all day"
I looked back at Katie, "Just something my mom would sing. It's a Swedish ballad about a fisherman and a mermaid." Before their tiny eyes, I began a round lace pattern on the top of the cake, "I've long forgotten the words, I'm afraid."
The tip got clogged and I swiftly began replacing it. The kids stood quietly, their eyes wide and their hands holding biscuits. It was then that I noticed adults in the bakery were looking between myself, the kids, and two men standing near the bakery entrance. They wore nice suits and caps, but I did not let myself get distracted for long. With a new tip, I began to finish the top pattern. The icing fell off the top surface to hang down the high sides of the cake. I made quick of my work, sure to not sacrifice quality for prompt completion.
With the piping complete, I shuffled up the sugar I had dyed pink and laid it out evenly on the table before picking up my prepared fondant with careful hands and laying it over the sugar. The pin pressed the sugar into the fondant with one roll and a wet brush got it ready for application.
Alice came up behind me and spoke into my ear over my shoulder, "Marie, you need to be careful with those children. They're Shelby's and their father and uncle are here in the shop."
The heart in my chest thudded at her severe tone. Still, I smiled at her and spoke softly, "You'll have to fill me in on the town gossip later, after I've sold this cake. I'm good with children." She gave me a look full of warning before going behind the counter once more to handle new customers who came in. They too regarded the two men as if they were contagious, giving them wide berth and keeping their eyes down.
With a flourish, I picked up the ribbon and then gingerly applied it to the cake in the middle. Happy with my masterpiece given the two and a half hour limit I gave myself, I wiped my hands on my apron and turned back toward the crowd with my hands crossed behind my back. Many of the on-lookers brought their hands together to clap. Alice came to stand next to me and even Robert traveled from the back of the bakery to join us. I noted that he begrudgingly was impressed with the cake and when I caught his eye, he nodded his approval. I couldn't help the smug smirk on my face.
After a moment, I brought up my hand, "Thank you for coming and watching me work today. It's been my pleasure to entertain. I'd also like to thank Robert and Alice for allowing me to use space in their lovely bakery for this display. I think they also deserve an applause." The crowd brought their hands together once more. Robert took Alice around the shoulder and they smiled at their customers.
When they wound down, I spoke once more with my hands out in front of me, palms up, "From your response I get the sense that you like the finished product. However!"
My audience waited quietly and I help one hand out to Katie, "The real judge today will be the birthday girl."
"Me?" she pointed at her chest.
"Yes, you," I smiled slightly, "What do you say about the cake, Katie? Do I get passing marks?"
Her tiny finger went to her chin and she stepped close to the table to inspect the cake. I shared a look with the crowd and pulled at the collar of my shirt. A few laughs filled the room. I put my fingers to my lips and looked expectantly at Katie.
"Do I get to taste it?" she asked innocently.
My smile slipped, "If it were my cake to cut, you could have the first piece." A sewing pin could have dropped and deaf ears would hear it. I watched as her chin crumpled and her eyes began to well. Just as her lip started to quiver and her nose watered, her oldest brother puffed up his little chest and got ready to let me have it.
"We'll take it."
The two men, Shelby's as it would seem, had cut through the crowd. They took off their caps one after the other and it became clear that they were very handsome men.
"Dad!" the two boys cried. Katie's tears dried and I watched as she instantly attached herself to the leg of the younger man.
"Do you mean it?" she asked her father.
"'F course," I watched a toothpick roll around in his mouth as he spoke, "Anyfin' for my girl." At the sight, my knees went a little soft and the sides of my eyes prickled.
He straightened up and looked at Robert, who nodded his head and greeted him, "Mister Shelby and Mister Shelby. A good day to the boff of you."
"And a good day to you, Mr. Daniels," the older one said. The crowd that had formed before has almost instantly begun to evaporate once the older Shelby brothers spoke up. Besides the Shelby's, the bakery couple, and myself, only a few others remained. I watched Robert and the younger Shelby man break off to talk price. Alice stuck to her husband's side as if the Shelby would unhinge his jaws and snap up her husband with his teeth.
My eyes wondered to the older Shelby and I was struck with his blue eyes that were watching me. I felt myself flinch, but did not look away before nodding. Then I began to clean my workstation. The heels of his shoes clicked on the bakery hardwood floor under him as he made his way to me.
"That's a proper trade you've got there," his voice was smooth, like churned milk, and gave nothing away.
"Thank you," I replied easily. With all of my dirty supplies in a large bowl to get washed, I plucked up my bag and began packing what I could.
"What brings you to Birmingham?"
"The railroads are quite accessible and trains are mighty," I said lightly without looking up.
He hollowly chuckled, "That is one way to avoid answering a question."
I also laughed, my own matching his, "I'm not dodging your questions, Mister."
"Then why does it seem that way, Miss?"
"Why whould you think something brought me here?" I asked.
He paused and I peaked up at him though my eyelashes. His face hardened, "Perhaps because you ask questions like that. Perhaps because of the how you struck a deal in order to stay in town. Or perhaps because you targeted a Shelby on your first day here." The last point he said in a gravely, threatening way.
My head reeled up toward him in disbelief, my mouth slightly open and my brows furrowed. I stood up straight and aimed my body toward him. Quickly putting two and two together, I pointedly threw my head toward sweet Katie, who was still holding onto her father, before responding lowly, "I may not know anything about how things run around here, or anything about your family. But I do know that why I came to Birmingham is none of your business and that I would never, never target a child."
He nodded, "Now that's an honest answer. You truly don't know how we run Birmingham."
Ice took my fingers and toes, and suddenly I was overcome with the feeling that I was in way over my head.
"The name's Thomas Shelby. That over there is my brother John Shelby. You'd do good to remember whose town you're in."
I reigned in my attitude as best I could, much to the poorly-hidden, smug amusement of Thomas Shelby. The Shelby's were dangerous, that much I understood from the man's words. Still, I kept my chin up and tried not to purse my lips at all.
"My name is Marie. Just Marie is fine, and I hope you realize that any 'targeting' you're seeing is pure coincidence," I added more kindly gathering my dye powders to put them back in their old, rickety wooden box. My eyes traveled between him and the table as I did so, "I also hope you remember that the owners of this establishment are good, innocent people."
He tilted his head back, "Now why would you think I'd wish the Daniels' any harm?" His cool eyes never left my face.
"I recognize a threat when I hear one, even if it is veiled," I said with a tight, closed mouth smile, "I hope you and your family enjoy the cake. Mrs. and Mr. Daniels are quite good from what I hear."
We stared at one another for quite a few moments. I admired his sharp cheekbones and eyelashes. He was a very good-looking man. If it weren't for his suspicious disposition, I could have admitted to myself that I found him to be attractive. He was clearly intelligent, cunning, and protective of his family; all traits that I related to.
Instead, I found myself annoyed that he had come into the shop at all, regardless of the fact that his brother's purchase had earned me a job. It became quiet as Alice, Robert, and the other Shelby's then noticed the tense air between the man and I.
As if waiting for me to break, the Shelby's eyes remained where they were while he mentioned loudly, "I think Marie will make a great addition to your bakery, Mr. and Mrs. Daniels. Do you think you could walk us out, Robert? We need to discuss this month's payment." With that Thomas motioned for the kids to file out. Katie filtered out last, sending me a wave and a smile which I returned. John nodded to Alice and I before clapping Robert on the shoulder and leading him out. Thomas gave me one last look before leaving. The weight of the Shelby's left my shoulders.
The shop went silent, which was odd to me at such a late morning hour.
"You shouldn't have done that," Alice said quietly.
"Done what?" I asked.
"Started with Thomas Shelby."
"I didn't start with him."
"I know a cross face when I see one, and you both were looking stormy. Or as stormy as Thomas Shelby gets before he's slicing someone open or having someone else do it for 'im," her voice got a little higher and her eyes were glued to the door her husband had left through, "The Peaky Blinders demand full respect. They're a violent bunch, Marie."
"You mean they're a gang," I replied.
"Yes, and you just got spotted in their leaders crosshairs," she looked at me severely then before offering me a damp cloth, "Come, let's get you cleaned up and get this cake in a box. They are sending someone to fetch it at four."
-o-
Robert had been gone for a half an hour, which gave me time to clean my mess and for me to help Alice box the cake.
I also had a chance to change out of my clothing, since they had gotten messy despite the apron. All of my mourning clothing got left in London at my father's empty home. All I had with me was the clothing on my back and two other outfits. I opted for my off-white work blouse with a dark red skirt that buttoned from my navel to my ankles.
When Robert returned, he looked tired and ran his hand over his mustache. He hung a sign in the bakery door that read, "Will be Back in 5" before ushering us into the back room. Alice asked him what was wrong several times before he told me the news.
"What do you mean I can't stay with you?" I asked quietly, a deep frown on my face.
Robert looked at me sympathetically for the first time since I met him, "Thomas Shelby said the Peaky Blinders would set you up with a living arrangement. If they don't contact you tonight about yer lodgings, you can stay for the night, but that is all we can offer."
Alice looked grim, "You have to understand that we pay the Shelby's to protect our store. Without their protection, we're weak to the other gangs in the area. They are unkind."
"And the Shelby's are kind?" I quipped.
"Kinder than the others," Robert said in a steely tone, "And they do not offer forgiveness."
I nodded slowly and mumbled, "I knew I shouldn't have even spoken to the devil." Resting my head in my hand, I reevaluated my situation. Anja's letter that lead me to the bakery burned in my skirt pocket.
"I'm surprised you haven't put me out yet," I finally said, "I understand that employing me is now out of the picture. Still, thank you both for today-"
Robert gave a short laugh, "Oh, I never said anything about not employin' ye. Thomas Shelby said I'd be a fool not to hire you, and he'd be right. You brought more people into our bakery today than I ever would have expected. A cake sale to a Shelby is as good as any way to credit our goods. They paid with a pound."
It was shocking to hear that money had been so shamelessly thrown. It just went to show just how wealthy the Shelby's were. And money is power.
But, it went to assure me a job. Looking to Alice to see if it was true, I became elated. She grinned, silently congratulating me. Many thanks spilled from my mouth and I stuck out my hand to shake on it. Though Robert thought it odd, he smacked his hand into mine and sealed the deal.
His face got stern again, "I don't pay slackers though. I'm putting you straight to work."
I saluted him, "Yes, sir!"
"Good, then. Let's get this shop back up again."
I was determined to confront Thomas Shelby about the whole ordeal. If he thought I was paying a large sum to keep lodgings in this town, he must have also thought of me as someone who laid golden eggs. Though I would be inheriting a good sum from my father, I intended on saving a large amount of it for a time when I would have people to take care of. I swore silently to Anja that I would not let her down. No. As soon as it made sense, I would talk to this Thomas Shelby. Who knew, perhaps he would even be of value to me.
-o-
Would you please skim the authors notes?
I hope you've enjoyed the beginning of my newest FF endeavor.
If I ever reach TEN reviews for a chapter before the next one comes out, I will randomly select one reviewer to receive an exclusive preview of the next chapter in their private messages. If you wish to leave a review anonymously, but still wish to be a part of the drawing, include an email with your review in which I can send you the preview.
Reviews are important to writers like myself. Your feedback is invaluable; it will help me improve my work.
This is going to be a Tommy/Original Character story. Please note that I haven't gotten all of John Shelby childrens names. I know one is named Katie (mentioned in season 2 episode 1) and I figured that John was likely to name a John Jr. As I watch season 3 (I JUST FINISHED EPISODE 2, WHAT THE HELL!), I'm going to eagerly watch for their names. I will correct this chapter as the opportunity arrives.
Thank you for your time.
Sincerely,
Rem