"John! I came as soon as I heard. Everyone's been talking about the fire…. Please tell me everyone's alright."
Lizzie entered the hallway in a panicked whirlwind that nearly knocked John off his feet. He had just reached for his cap and coat on the hook, preparing to head to the Peaky Blinder's stomping grounds to rally up the boys. Arthur, in a fiery burst of enthusiasm and family loyalty, was already out the door, lurching forward. John knew he had to catch up with him quickly, make sure he didn't hurt himself.
"Everyone's fine. We're safe," John said, stumbling backwards as she flung her arms around him in a smothering hug and practically fell into him as she buried her head in his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, I'm just… so glad you're safe." She bit her bottom lip, looking up at him with tear filled eyes.
She always looks so sad.
He didn't want her to be sad. He wanted to make her smile. He used to be able to, when they were going steady and he planned to marry her. In fact, he hadn't been this close to her since the races, and even then they weren't THIS close.
Then Tommy decided to play games and make her sell herself.
John knew she was a prostitute. He wasn't naive, but he knew she'd been trying to quit and Tommy had dragged her back down into it, saying it was for the business. John wouldn't forgive him for that.
"It's fine, Lizzie." He raised his hand on an impulse, was about to cup her face with it, then awkwardly patted her back instead. He saw a red flush creep up from the base of her neck to her cheeks. John felt his own face grow warm. It was awkward because of what they once were to each other, because of Esme, and because of all the silent promises he had made to Lizzie in his mind. Now that she was here and he was holding her… it made all those promises seem very real, so real he could reach out and touch them.
Kiss her.
The impulse popped into his head. It would have been easy to give into that impulse in an instant, if he hadn't thought of Esme and the kids, and his family, the fire, and Arthur who was now hollering outside for him to hurry up.
"I've got to go… business," he said, clearing his throat, trying to form a coherent sentence.
"Oh." She nodded and pulled back.
"It's good to see you," he blurted out. She nodded and lowered her eyes down to the floor. He felt like a fool and a brute, being so callous. He couldn't leave her like that.
So he kissed her gently on the cheek. Her eyes flew to his face, startled. Her lips parted and she looked questioningly at him. Her face reddened even more and in that moment with her eyes shining and her face a light shade of pink, she looked beautiful.
"You're staying here, It's not safe out there."
"John… What exactly…"
" You're staying here," John repeated, cutting her off because he did not want to explain to her the trouble his family was in.
"The kids'll like that." He rubbed her arms. " Sound like a plan yeah?" He said a few more words, not quite sure what he was trying to convey as he continued to think about kissing her on her lips and running his hands through her hair, like he used to.
"My things," she protested, looking towards the door.
"No Lizzie," he said. "None of it's important."
There was a pause as their eyes remained locked on each other.
I should have married you.
"JOHN!"
John was jolted back to the present by Arthur's booming voice.
"Coming!" he hollered. He turned back to Lizzie, this time cupping her chin in his hand. "I've got to go," he said, lowering his voice so only the two of them could hear. "I'll be back and I'll explain everything. Just stay here and I'll be back before you know it."
"John, you're scaring me."
"I'll be back," he said before stepping away from her. She held onto his arm.
"Lizzie, I've got to…"
The words died on his lips as she kissed him on the mouth with an intensity that shocked him. They stood there for what seemed like a blink of an eye to John as she broke away from him, looking horrified.
"John, I'm sorry… You're a married man.."
"You tramp!"
John swung around to see Esme, eyes burning, nostrils flared, looking completely livid. Lizzie shrank away from him.
"Don't you talk to her like that!" John said, collecting himself and defending Lizzie who looked like she was about to cry again.
"You just had to throw yourself at him… he's MY husband. You're disgusting."
"You're one to talk," John interjected, moving in front of Lizzie as Esme closed the space between them.
"John, I'm your wife."
"God Esme, you're a bloody hypocrite," he turned away from her and looked at Lizzie.
"Lizzie, find a guest room."
"She can't stay here," Esme protested.
"This isn't your house," John retorted. "Anyone who is family can stay, and Lizzie's family."
"Your precious Lizzie's set on destroying our marriage."
John stared at her. Where was this coming from? Since when did she care about their marriage?
She doesn't. She's just jealous. She wanted to sink her claws into him as well as any other man she took a fancy to and she would only let them go on her terms.
Esme moved closer to them, eyes blazing as she moved closer into John's personal space.
"You're a filthy whore," she spat, glaring at Lizzie, who cringed at the words. John struck her without thinking. The slap resounded the room and he came back to himself and realized what he'd done.
"You don't get to speak to her like that, you hear me? You don't have any right," his voice was shaking. He didn't beat women. He didn't beat his wife. She was still his wife by law. Yet he couldn't let her speak that way to Lizzie. He was the one who had kissed her first. She hadn't thrown herself at him and she had looked incredibly guilty.
Esme raised a hand to her cheek, a mortified expression crossing her face, before she turned and walked briskly down the hall.
"Esme," he called.
"I should go," Lizzie muttered, looking away from him.
"No, I meant what I said. I'm sorry…"
"You should be apologizing to your wife, John."
"Just… just stay here. You don't have to see her. There're rooms everywhere. Just…. Stay please."
He pleaded with her. Reluctantly, she agreed.
He put his hand on the doorknob and paused, looking back at her.
"Lizzie, you know me.. I'm not like that." He wasn't a brute. He wasn't perfect, He wasn't a saint, and every once in a while he got his hands dirty for the business, but he wasn't an animal.
"I know, John," she said, her voice low before she turned away from him.
John opened the door and was met by a red faced Arthur on the doorstep.
"What the hell are you doing?"
John pushed past him, feeling rotten to the core as he forced himself to think about business and not the problem he had just created for himself.
