A Mind to Tear a Soul in Two: Chapter Three

Walking into Charlotte's room, Tommy was unprepared for the sight in front of him. It looked like a bomb had gone off. Looking around there was furniture, glass, blood, and books strewn about. Taking in the mess, the people, and the cacophony of voices, it was all too much.

"...I swear to God if you come at me..."

"...Just hold still..."

"...I'll sit on you if you don't stop it..."

"...He's bringing the whisky..."

"...Get your fucking hands off of me..."

"...It's got to come out..."

"...Watch the shoulder..."

"...I will cram this rag down your throat..."

"...Calm down..."

"...Strangle you in your sleep..."

"Enough! Shut up, all of you! Shut up!" The room went quiet as the words left his mouth, all four faces in the room noticing him standing there for the first time. Each family member froze in place like a photograph.

Polly was standing near the window, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, clearly trying to stave off a headache. Charlotte lay on the floor, John straddling her, arms pinned above her head. Esme had a towel in one hand, his sister's leg in the other, kneeling in a small pool of blood.

"Jesus fucking Christ. What is happening here?" As John, Polly, Esme, and Charlotte all started to speak at the same time, he raised his voice again to be heard over their squabbling, "Esme! Only Esme, answer my question." Charlotte took a breath and started to speak.

"Did I say 'Charlotte answer my question'? No. I said 'Esme'. Shut your mouth, Charlie. Esme, please, go on. Nobody will interrupt you." Waving his arm in a theatrical gesture he urged her to speak.

"Right. Well, obviously she fell and managed to knock over a few things–"

Attempting to interrupt Charlotte started, "But it was–"

Glaring down at her, Tommy cut her off, "I clearly remember telling you to shut it not ten seconds ago."

Glaring back at him she kept her mouth closed and allowed Esme to continue. "Now, as you probably heard, Arthur was able to put her shoulder back into place, so that's good and done. But there's this piece of glass here. I've got to remove it, but she won't stop moving so it keeps bleeding and the cut is getting worse. It's not too bad, it'll only need a few stitches. But it will need stitches. There's a cut on the top of her head, but it doesn't look too serious." Taking a breath she looked around the room, "And other than the mess, I think that's it."

Nodding at her assessment Tommy asked, "What do you need from us?" Taking a second Esme thought to herself before speaking, "I need a knife or scissors to cut this fabric away from her leg. I need some cocaine mixed with a bit of water, to create a paste to numb the cut for stitches. I need that whisky your holding. And honestly, this would all be easier if we weren't all on the floor." As an afterthought, she added, "And if Charlotte would sit still."

Nodding at her instructions, Tommy ordered, "John, why are you sitting on her like that? Get offa her, and help her sit up. She's not some pig that needs wrangling."

Scoffing John tried to explain the situation, "She won't sit still and let Esme work. Keeps trying to go after Arthur."

Pointing a finger at her to get the girl's attention, Tommy told her, "Charlie, stop thrashing around like a child. Besides, Arthur's long gone." Leaning down he handed a bottle of whisky to Charlotte, before passing the other to Esme, "Take this and start drinking."

Taking the bottle of whisky from him, Charlotte looked unsure. "You're gonna wanna start drinking that now."

Brining the bottle to her mouth and taking a drink, Charlotte winced as the burn hit her throat, "This stuff is shit." She complained looking up at him.

"The point is to get you drunk off you ass. Not to enjoy it. I'm not pulling out the good stuff to get my sister toasted. Now keep drinking." Looking to the other occupants in the room he continued on, "Polly, you got scissors in that sewing box there? John, help me get her up and on the bed. Esme, you wanna get that chunk out of her leg before or after we move her?"

Looking up at him from her position on the floor Esme replied, "I need to get it out before you move her. But you gotta be careful of her shoulder — we'll need a sling for that too. And I don't think you'll want her on the bed. Too much blood. The downstairs table would be better."

Grinning at his sister John said, "Looks like you're breaking free one way or another." Grimacing as she continued to take big gulps of the whisky Charlotte questioned, "Esme, is there any way to shut him up? His voice is giving me a headache."

Smiling at Charlotte, Esme pushed her husband out of the way and got back to business. "Can we do this now? When I take this out, I'll wrap this towel around it to stop the bleeding. Then one of you needs to pick her up and carry her down to the table."

Taking the scissors and cutting open Charlotte's trouser leg, Esme instructed Charlotte to lay down and hold still. "Alright, here we go." Pressing down in Charlotte's leg with one hand, she yanked the shard of ceramic out with her other. Then, almost too quickly for anyone to notice, Esme took the second bottle of whisky and poured it over Charlotte's leg.

Charlotte let out a coughing sob and her body spasmed upward, a silent scream leaving her mouth, unable to do much of anything else due to the combination of pain and liquor.

Reaching forward, Esme tied up the gash with a towel and gestured for Tommy to pick up his sister. "Sorry about that, Charlie. I had to make sure it was cleaned. But it's done now, so let's get you up and downstairs so we can finish this." Sitting up in a daze, Charlotte brought the bottle to her lips once more, chugging to numb the pain.

Kneeling by his sister, Tommy announced, "That is probably enough of that." And taking the bottle from her hand he realised that she'd managed to consume three fourths of the bottle, and she'd done so in about five minutes time. He had no doubt that by the time Esme started to stitch her up with a needle, she'd be three sheets to the wind.

Passing the bottle off to Polly, Tommy reached under and picked up his sister. One arm under her knees and the other at her back in a bridal style, he tried not to put too much pressure on the open wound. Holding his sister in his arms he instructed his brother, "John, check the smallest drawer at my desk. You'll see what Esme needs in there."

"What is it?"

"Just look, you'll see what I'm talking about."

John nodded and left. Tommy followed, walking out of the room and toward the stairs, when he realised that Charlotte was shaking in his arms. "You ok there, Charlie?"

Pressing her face into his chest she shook her head.

"I don't wanna do this. It doesn't feel like I need stitches. I can tell. Don't make me do this."

Tommy tried to comfort her, "Don't worry, Charlie, you're not gonna feel a thing. That whisky you drank will make you numb through and through. Just give it another five minutes you'll be so gone you won't remember any of this in the morning."

Setting her on the table Charlotte looked up at him, "That's what Arthur said... He said not to worry that it wasn't gonna hurt. And then it did hurt. It hurt a lot."

"Do I lie to you Charlie? Have I ever lied to you?"

Staring at him blankly she replied, "You told me that the war would be over by Christmas."

It was like a sucker punch to the gut. She knocked the wind outta him with just her words. As Esme and Polly rushed around them in the kitchen, Tommy tried to find an explanation for his sister.

"I know I said that– It's just– I didn't– We thought–" Not knowing how to respond, he found himself rambling.

Taking a breath he pushed on, "I know I said that, Charlie. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I told you that."

Leaning in to her, he kissed the top of her head.

Rushing down the stairs John interrupted, holding out a vial of cocaine in his hand. "Here ya go, Tom."

Smacking his hand away Tommy demand, "Do I look like I need that? Give it to your wife."

Noticing the small blue vial in her brother's hands Charlotte asked, "Is that snow? Why'd you got snow, Tom?"

Trying to hold her alcohol riddled brain together Charlotte knew there was something about cocaine that she was suppose to tell Tommy. Or was it something she wasn't suppose to tell him about? Damn it. She couldn't remember. Thinking hard she barely heard Tommy's response, telling her to mind her own business.

Finally getting the numbing paste finished up, Esme instructed Charlotte, "You go ahead and lie down now Charlie. I just need you to lie flat ok? I'm going to put this paste on your leg and let it sit for a couple of minutes. You hear me?"

Closing her eyes and laying back on the table, Charlotte responded to her sister-in-law, "I hear ya. Lay still. I'm on it. I'm laying. And I'm very still."

She paused for a minute and then started up talking again, "Where'd you learn to be so smart, Esme? How'd you know doctoring? You got everyone, even Tommy, following your orders. That's how I know you're smart."

"Oh, here we go." John muttered under his breath, knowing that the whisky was starting to take over both Charlotte's brain and mouth.

Taking a breath, Charlotte didn't give Esme a chance to answer her questions before rattling on, "You know Ada, right? Our sister. You remember her? She couldn't sit still through one single nursing class before she got bored. Ran out with her friends to do... I don't know... Whatever it is she does when she's not in bed with Freddie."

John and Polly laughed as Tommy tried to get his sister to shut up, "Alright, I think that's probably enough talk about Freddie and Ada. Completely ignoring him as if he hadn't said a word, she went on, "Oh, boy, Ada's gonna be mad at you all... She's gonna be real mad."

Nearly bursting with joy, laughing at his sister's drunken ramblings John asked, "Why's that, Lottie? What's happening that she's got to be mad over?"

Smacking his head, yet wearing a grin across her face, Polly attempted to admonished him, "Don't you encourage her."

Explaining herself, Charlotte started in, "Well, first you cut up the new trousers she got me. Then you go handing me an entire bottle to drink. She's gonna feel left out. I know she will. Ada likes to be part of things. She misses us, I can tell. Can't you tell, Tom? She misses you. I know you're serious businessman, Mr. Tommy Shelby. But I can tell you miss her too. You probably miss her more than–"

Once again interrupting her ramblings, Tommy started in, "Alright Charlie. I think that's enough. Why don't you just relax. Huh?"

Stubborn indigence filled her voice, "Yeah, alright. But I want a story. Like before the war. Tell me a story, Tommy. Tell me one I haven't heard before."

Joining in with a sing song tone John added, "Oh yes, Tommy! Tell us a story!"

Completely unaware of John's joke Charlotte continued, "Tell me a story about Mom. It'll be ok, because I won't remember. So you can't be sad."

Laughing John added, "It's hard to argue with that logic. Just give us a bloody story, Tom. Don't deny the poor girl her last wish. Look at her, lying there, dying, half naked–"

"I'm not naked, stupid! It's only me leg. You've seen a leg before, haven't you?"

Indignant at her name calling, John asked his sister, "Who you calling stupid?"

As Tommy threw a bloody towel across the room to shut his brother up, Esme's voice rang out, "Alright, I think the wound is sufficiently numb. Why don't you boys clear out. We don't need an audience for this."

Reaching over and clinging to Tommy, Charlotte started to panic, "No, no, no, no. I need you to stay, everyone else can go. I need a story."

Relieved for an excuse to avoid telling a story to his sister with an audience, Tommy tried to calm her, "You heard the nurse, Charlie. John and I are just going into the shop to get some work done. You'll be fine here. You got Aunt Pol to take care of ya."

Still clutching his arm she tried to whisper to him, "But Pol is fucking awful at stories." As her "whisper" reached the ears of everyone in the kitchen Polly snorted.

Laughing as she waved for him to sit, she went into the shop with John. Closing one of the doors she told them, "She's not wrong. I'm shit for stories. You stay with her, Thomas."

Watching their aunt walk away, Esme got down to business. Sterilising the needle and thread Esme eyed him before speaking to Charlotte, "Alright, Charlie, I'm gonna start now. Just try to lie there. Alright?"

Nodding at her orders, Charlotte turned her head away from Esme and the sewing needle.

As the needle entered her flesh Charlotte gasped, her eyes went wide, and tears brimmed their edges.

Giving in to his sisters demands, Tommy asked, "Has anyone ever told you about the time Arthur stole a pie to give to the new school teacher?"

Without waiting for her response he continued on to tell the tale of the oldest Shelby brother's attempts to woo the pretty young school teacher. "Obviously Arthur didn't have the brains to impress her with his intelligence, so he decided to knock her stockings off with a homemade pie. Only problem was, Mom had made the pie to take to the minister's house that Sunday. With the beating she gave him once he confessed, you woulda thought that Arthur had damned all our souls to hell — all over one little pie. Worst part was, that teacher didn't even last the year. At some point she found out she was up the duff, and left Birmingham to live with her family in the country."

"Poor Arthur."

"Poor Arthur, my ass. Don't ever feel sorry for that man. He deserves everything that ever came to him."

At this, Esme cleared her throat and announced, "Alright you two, my work here is done." Snipping off the thread used for stitching she told them, "I'll come by later this evening with bandages and salve. You'll need to keep that covered for about a week. I'll check in every now and then to make sure it's healing good. Don't go climbing or running around, it'll rip the stitches, and we'll have to do this all over again."

Thanking his sister-in-law for everything, Tommy readied to scoop up Charlotte to take her back upstairs. "You ready to go back to your room, jailbird?"

Barely able to open her eyes she nodded at him. Pale and sweaty, she was clearly strung out on blood loss, pain, and alcohol. This girl was ready to sleep it all off.

Carrying her back up the stairs and settling her into bed Tommy gave her strict instructions to stay put. No more cleaning, and if she needed anything, just to give a shout. He tried to keep his orders simple enough that she'd remember once the alcohol wore off.

Agreeing to his commands she rolled over and mumbled something into her pillow.

"What's that? You talking to me or the pillow?"

Turning her head she drew out her words as if she were speaking to a child, "I said, Do. You. Wanna. Hear. Something?"

"Sure, make it quick. What do you got to say?" Looking to the folding clock on her table he could see that the day was getting on, and he still had work to take care of.

Removing her face from where she'd planted it in her pillow, she sat up and looked around the floor. "You see a blue book around here? Not for reading. A writing book — like from school." Looking under the bed Tommy grabbed the book in question and handed it to her.

Flipping through the pages looking for something particular she told him, "I've wanted to share this for awhile. But now seems like a good time."

Curiously watching her he asked, "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Because you shared something with me. So I'll share something with you." Nodding as if to finalise her statement she continued, "But you gotta close your eyes. I can't do it with you watching. So just close your eyes, alright?"

"Sure, but what are you on about?"

Exasperated she demanded, "Just close them!"

Closing his eyes he tried to be patient as he heard pages rustling and she cleared her throat.

"Ok, now keep 'em closed. And remember it's better when there's instruments. But don't say anything."

Ever so quietly she started singing, her alto voice breathy but strong.

"Oh, the desert dreams of a river

That will run down to the sea

Like my heart longs for an ocean

To wash down over me."

"Oh, won't you take me from this valley

To that mountain high above?

Oh I will pray, pray, pray

Until I see your smiling face.

I will pray

To the one I love."

Opening his eyes as she sang, her voice gained strength and volume. Hey eyes were closed, the book laying open in her lap, words scribbled across it's pages. Smiling while she continued her song she seemed to be strumming the air as if she were playing a guitar.

Given that not a single person in the Shelby home had ever played, let alone owned a guitar, he thought it seemed unlikely that Charlotte had picked up the instrument somewhere along the way. Pushing his thoughts aside he sat back and continued to watch and listen.

"Oh, the outcast dreams of acceptance,

Just to find pure love's embrace

Like an orphan longs for his mother.

May you hold me in your grace."

"Won't you take me from this valley

To that mountain high above?

Oh I will pray, pray, pray

Until I see your smiling face.

I will pray

To the one I love."

"Won't you take me from this valley

To that mountain high above?

Oh I will pray, pray, pray

Until I see your smiling face.

I will pray

To the one I love."

As she finished the song she opened her eyes, startled to see him staring back at her. "You were suppose to keep your eyes closed."

Apologising he told her, "I'm sorry — I'm no good at following orders. But that was really nice Charlie, where'd you hear that?"

Shaking her head at him, she looked down, flipping through the pages of her school book. "I didn't hear it anywhere. It's mine. I made it. Well, Johnny helped me. But it's mostly mine."

Confused, Tommy asked, "You and John are singing music together?" John wasn't one for singing, he sure as hell couldn't picture the two siblings writing a song together.

Interrupting his thoughts Charlotte drawled, "Johnny. John. NEE. Johnny. Not John. Don't be daft. John Shelby couldn't hold a musical note if his life depended on it."

Still not quite understanding what his sister was telling him, Tommy tried to get more information out of her. "Johnny Dogs? You two are writing music together? When?"

Tossing her book to the ground she laid down, pulled up her quilt, and closed her eyes. "You'd be surprised at the things I do when you're not paying attention."

"I'm sure I would be. Would you care to elaborate?"

"No."

Trying to keep an even tone, he told her, "How about you try, or I'll go hunt down Dogs meself and cut the story outta him."

Still not opening her eyes she responded, "No. Sorry. Can't. Dogs says it's our secret. The whole thing is. You can't be part of it. You and Arthur and John, you always get into everything. This is mine. Only for me. And it's my secret."

"Charlotte..."

"Won't you leave me be now? You got me all drunk, stuck sewing needles in me, and now me head is fuzzy and sleepy."

Well, the drunk girl in front of him did have a point. With nearly an entire bottle of whisky pumping through her, the story she was telling him could easily be equally as true as is was a fabrication of her imagination.

"Alright, I'll leave you be. But you're gonna have to tell me the truth sometime."

Growling at him, he could practically hear her eyes rolling. "Jesus, you're demanding. You know Ada says you weren't like this before."

Stand up to take his leave Tommy told her, "You and I both know Ada says a lot of things, most of them rubbish."

Finally opening her eyes she glared up at him, "Sometimes I don't wanna be one of you. It's hard ya know? Being a Shelby. Ada had the right idea — don't be one of us anymore. She's lucky. And I'm stuck here with you lot."

Not willing to have any kind of argument with a drunk child, Tommy told her, "Maybe you're right. Maybe Ada is the lucky one. But unfortunately for you, you're stuck here with us until I say so. And I'll promise you this, you'll not be getting married any time soon, princess."

Leaving the room he could hear her question softly, "But, did you like it? My song..."

"Of course I did. It was beautiful, both the song and your voice. Now please, Charlie, go to sleep."

A/N: Charlotte's song can be found here: youtube. com \watch?v=btcGAAahSTs (Don't forget to delete the spaces)

I'd also like to apologise for the short length of this chapter. I hated to pull a 'Half-Blood Prince' on you all, but I was actually able to write out the meat of three entire chapters since the last post, and this was a nice button ending before continuing on in our adventures.