Elizabeth stepped out of the car and onto the dusty road. This was it - her new adventure.
It had taken her a while to admit to herself that living back home with her mother was no longer acceptable. After the war Elizabeth couldn't seem to shake the feeling of boredom.
Pain, yes, there was a great deal of pain to be avoided as well. Every street corner turned, every pavement she had walked with him, for each step she took since the day he died,
her heart grew heavier. The only rational decision would be to the town was not good enough for her, though leaving the country would have to do.
And now, now she was here. Birmingham was at her feet, for whatever carmic reasons, and she was ready to fulfill the promise she had once
made to a wounded was no reason to uphold it, really. She was quite sure the soldier had forgotten her the moment he set foot
on British soil, the second he saw his family again. Nontheless, she felt obligated to uphold her end of the bargain.
The man who had escorted Elizabeth from London led her down the dusty road and inn an alley where he directed her to the second floor of an old factory building, now turned into a guest house.
She exhaled as she closed the door on the man. The room was small, but seemed entirely appropriate for a new position in the city. Elizabeth was to be the new town teacher. Temporary of course, as all inn her life seemed to be. In a couple of days, when she had settled inn she would continue her mission to find the wounded soldier. A man by the name of Shelby.
"Hello there, love, can I help you with anything?" the old man behind the counter asked her as she approached him. He had a humble appearance, wise eyes and a wrinkled sad smile.
"Just this, sir", Elizabeth pointed at her basket. "And perhaps your assistance in finding an old friend of mine" she continued. The man looked up and smiled curiously. "By the name of Thomas Shelby".
The old man stiffened. "What business does a nice lady like yourself have with a Shelby?" he inquired. The warm smile was now replaced by a strict, nearly angered expression.
"I'm sorry, Sir, but do you know where I'd find him?" she insisted. She didn't travel all this way to be shot down by an angry, old man.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll take the next train back to where you came from and forget about Thomas Shelby", he said.
"I'm sure I can find the information I desire elsewhere, thank you Sir", she turned and started towards the door.
"The Garrison" the old man called. "You'll find what you're looking for at the Garrison".
"And where is that?" Elizabeth asked.
"You'll see it when you see it, eh", he waved her away.
Elizabeth asked around at another little shop thinking perhaps she would find out why the old man had reacted the way he did. But it seemed that was the appropriate reaction to hearing the Shelby name.
Upon finding out who the wounded soldier was, what he was, she thought her old self would run for the hills, but things had changed. She was no longer insecure in her independent actions, though she was sure the soldier would have no reason to treat her badly. Afterall, he had invited her himself.
Walking along the main road in Small Heath, Elizabeth set eyes on a building. A grand, decorated house in the midst of battered down, dirty brick buildings. On the left wall she saw a small green board which read "The Garrison tavern".
A group of men whistled and called when she entered the ignored the noises as she stepped confidently towards the bar.
"Is there a man by the name of Thomas Shelby present?" she asked the barman. The barman opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a harsh voice.
"What business you got with Tommy?" a tall, slender man asked. "He done you over or something?" the man laughed as he wiped his moustache.
"It seems everyone I've met in this city is curious of my interests in Mr. Shelby" Elizabeth answered. "Do you know where I can find him?".
"Tommy's out of town. Should be back by nightfall, but you're more then welcome to join me for drink while you wait" the man grinned.
"That's quite alright, I'll come back tomorrow".
Arthur lifted his cap as token of respect as the lady walked out the door. "We don't get many Americans in here now do we boys?" he said to John and the gang.
Tommy came back late that night. There had been some trouble in London, and he'd had to sort it out with Solomons before returning to Birmingham.
"Arthur, has there been any trouble" he asked as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. He didn't expect there to be, but there's never knowing what will happen in this city.
"Define trouble" Arthur laughed. John chuckled at his brothers puzzled look.
"There was a girl in here. Asking about you. An American" Arthur explained.
"What did she want?" Tommy asked. He hadn't had an American girl. Never had. Quite frankly there were few Americans to be found in these parts. Least of all decent ones.
"Didn't say. Said she'd be back tomorrow" John filled inn. "Oh and Tommy, she was a fine one this one" he chuckled as the toothpick between his lips vibrated.
The next morning Elizabeth made her way to the location at which she was to teach music. There were only a handful of children, well-groomed, no doubt the offspring of
the richer kinds of the city. A first lesson in Gershwin should be sufficient for now.
Saddened, Elizabeth had to admit she had expected more children, not only the privileged. She had hoped to make a real difference, to be meaningful, again.
"Hey precious, I'll make you smile" a man cornered her as she walked down the alley towards the Garrison. His breath reaked of whiskey and cigarettes.
"Get your hands off me" she yelled as he pulled at her dress.
"We're only just getting started, darling", he grinned as he pushed her against the cold brick wall.
Elizabeth mustered what courage she had and kneed him before pulling the gun from her purse. "If you ever touch me again I will blow your fucking brains out" she spat.
The man wasn't frightened, actually he smiled. He didn't seem sure that Elizabeth would pull the trigger, she wasn't quite sure herself. He looked out the alley, and stiffened suddenly.
Slowly he backed away while cursing under his breath. Elizabeth turned to see what had scared him, but there was nothing in sight. She stepped out of the alley and spotted a tall man dressed in a gray suit and cap walking into the Garrison. Perhaps it was the man she had spoken to in the Garrison yesterday.
She made her way to the pub.
"There she is" the moustached man from last night called. He grinned as he held is drink up towards Elizabeth. She smiled and nodded towards him.
"You're in luck today, love. Tommy just walked in himself" he said and nodded towards the backroom. "I'm sure he'll be out shortly".
Arthur stood up and walked unsteadily towards the back door. "The girl from last night, she's back. Asking for you again I presume" he grinned.
Tommy walked towards the bar, unfazed by the knowledge that a stranger had been singled him out. "I hear there's someone here to see me" he said to the barman.
"God help her" the barman muttered as he nodded towards Elizabeth. Tommy turned to the sight of a beautiful woman. Her eyes were sad, but sparkled with a hint of hope.
Fingering the dark scarf loosely wrapped around her frame she stepped towards him. Her dark curls bounced with each step, and Tommy felt slightly joyed at her innocence.
"Mr. Shelby" she smiled. The man standing in front of her was not the same broken boy she knew. His face was emotionless yet stern, curious yet utterly unamused.
"It's nice to see you" Elizabeth started. His blue eyes piercing hers, and his gaze making her feel a sadness she thought she'd forgotten.
"Is it?" he asked. There were very few who would sincerely greet him. He was curious. The woman looked familiar, but he couldn't seem to place her.
"I was hoping perhaps we could talk privately?" she inquired. Tommy led her in to the backroom as he requested two glasses and a bottle from the barman.
"My brother, Arthur said you'd been asking for me" Tommy raised an eyebrow. Elizabeth sighed at how cold he seemed, she recognized a certain boredom in his expression.
He was definetaly not like the man she had once met, and that was in war for christ sake.
"Yes, I'm Elizabeth Sweezey, you can call me Lizzy" Elizabeth introduced herself.
"I'd rather not" Tommy laughed. He'd no idea who she was, but he was sure she didn't deserve the association he had with that nick-name.
"I'm the new temp for the school at George road" she explained.
"Good for you, these children deserve a decent teacher" he cracked the slightest smile. "I'm afraid I'm still not aware though, what is it I can do for you?" he asked.
"Well, to be quite frank I don't really know. I was invited, surely you wouldn't remember, it's been a few years now. It looks like you've done well for yourself. I'm glad" her melancholic eyes watered, before she sniffed away the threathning tears.
For a split second his expression revealed pure confusion, before it was composed, back to the cold lifeless look. Elizabeth found herself
wondering whether her conviction of safety in the midst of this city was false. War had changed her, sure, but it had certainly changed him as well.
Suddenly, she rose from her seat. "Perhaps this was a mistake. I shouldn't have imposed" she whispered as she hurried towards the exit.
Tommy spent the evening contemplating whether or not he should look for Elizabeth. Clearly she knew him - but how? He was sure she wasn't a copper, though he didn't have the best track-record in that area. She didn't look like a copper though, certainly didn't fight like one. If she'd been a copper surely she would have shot the man in the alley.
Tommy recollected the slight shake she wore while pointing the gun insecurely at the drunk. It angered him that the man thought he could get away with treating a beautiful,civilized lady like Elizabeth in that manner - but it didn't suprise him. This city was filled with disgust and Tommy was sure it was his own fault.
It was a long night for Tommy, but it ended like it always did, with him falling asleep next to the dying glow of his pipe.
"He's been shot. In the abdomen. Quickly, he's bleeding, he's barely concious" the man shouted.
"What's your name? Tell me. I know you can hear me. Tell me, what's your name soldier?" a soft, but slightly frantic voice called.
Tommy opened his eyes. It was all blurry, and the pain, the fucking pain.
"There you are, soldier can you tell me your name?" she asked again.
"T-tommy. Tommy Sh- oh fuck. Tommy Shelby" he cried.
"Don't look down Tommy" the nurse ordered. "Look at me, look at me" she pulled his face up. "Tell me about yourself".
"I c-can't. I can't fucking breathe"
"Yes, you can Tommy. Look at me. Tell me who's waiting for you back home? I'm sure you have a pretty girl" the nurse tugged at the bullet.
"I haven't. Arrrgh"
"A family? You've got any brothers or sisters? Hey, Tommy, don't fall asleep, look at me Tommy" the nurse yelled.
"I- I've got a baby brother"
"What's his name?"
"Finn" he answered.
"Good, that's a good name. Think of Finn, Tommy. He needs his brother. And I need you to stay awake" the nurse cried.
"Tommy, TOMMY, stay the fuck awake" she shouted. In the midst of all the pain, he felt like laughing when he heard her curse.
He hadn't expected it. Those foul words didn't seem to fit her peaceful face.
"What- what do you do?" he inquired.
"You mean, when I'm not patching you boys up?" she laughed. Tommy tried to smile.
"I sing" she said. "What do you do?"
"I drink"
The nurse laughed "As I'm sure I will too, if I get out of here".
"Sing for me" he ordered "'I'll stay awake".
The young nurse smiled as she started a tune. She sang louder when she started sewing him up, so to cover up his muffled cries.
"You got to make me a promise, promise to me, you'll dream, dream a little dream of me" the nurse finished as she sewed the last stitch.
"There. Congratulations, soldier. You made it through" she sighed.
"You've got to make me a promise.. Promise to me" he echoed "you'll come sing for us in Birmingham, once we get out".
"If you stay awake for the next hour, I promise I'll visit you when this is all over" she smiled.
Tommy shot up from his bed. The sheets were drenched in sweat, and his breathe was rigid. For the first time years, it wasn't a nightmare. Not entirely at least.