Chapter 14

Arabella briefly appeared to rally. Although still in a coma she was starting to respond to lights and sounds. The doctors began to make cautiously optimistic noises. However, it did not last. On the ninth day following the shooting infection set in.

Although appearing totally calm Tommy lost what little remained of his reason. Having given instructions to Polly and Michael in respect of the legitimate side of the family business he called an irritated Arthur and John into his office. Brushing aside John's angry demands to know why family meetings no long include the whole family he told them his plans for Vicente Changretta.

'You told me that the last of Changretta's men said that he was intending to take an immigrant ship to New York', he said coolly. Arthur and John nodded.

'Aye Tommy', said Arthur. 'We had it confirmed by at least two of them and Betty Kitchen said that her people had heard the same when they were chasing down the last of them in the Black Country.

'Well I have contacts', Tommy continued. 'People in Cunard based at Liverpool. The next ship for New York sails Saturday and they say Changretta's party is booked to travel. My contacts can get you up to the point of departure. I want you to go there and pick him up.' He ground out his cigarette 'Bring him to me - alive. I want to do it myself.'

You said the 'Changretta party'. Who's he got travelling with him?' Arthur asked.

'His wife.' Tommy replied tonelessly.

'You what?' John said in surprise. 'His wife? What do we do about her?'

'Just put a bullet in her and bring him to me.' Arthur and John exchanged horrified glances.

'Tommy, are you serious? John said shocked. 'We don't do women. You know that. This would make us no better than the eyeties. Anyway Mrs Changretta was a teacher at our school. She was kind to us when everybody else just treated us like Pikey bastards.'

'She's a good woman, Tom.' Arthur added heavily. 'A really good woman.'

'Arabella was a good woman… is a good woman.' Tommy hissed. 'That didn't stop one of the Changretta bastards from shooting her.' He rested his clenched fists on the desk in front of him and then gave a deep sigh. In a chillingly cold voice he continued. 'Anyway not to worry, if Audrey Changretta is such a good woman, then she'll go to Heaven won't she, eh, Arthur?'

'Tommy we can't just…', John tried again but Tommy cut him off with a wave of his hand. He passed over a list of instructions to Arthur.

'Just do what's on the list boys and nothing else. Then burn it.' He stood up, bringing the meeting to a close. 'Right, that's it. You can go.' As if they were no longer there he turned his back and strode over to the window.

Seeing that John was about lose his temper, Arthur laid a calming hand on his brother's shoulder. 'Come on, John. Let's go downstairs and get a drink.' Shaking him off, John stormed from the room. Giving Tommy a despairing glance Arthur followed him.

When the door closed, Tommy slowly turned and retook his seat. He rubbed his hands over his face trying to wipe away the fog of exhaustion. He felt heartsick and broken. He knew that Arabella would be horrified if she found out what he had done in her name. In his mind he could almost hear her denunciation of him as a monster but he didn't care. As long as she was alive to denounce him, and the world was rid of those that could try to harm her again, he would do whatever it took.

He knew he had to get back to the hospital but he could not bear to see his wife wasting away before his eyes; the fever was melting the flesh from her bones. He desperately needed sleep too but that had been hard to come by over the last few weeks – opium was the only thing that could give him the release he needed but he was terrified of the dreams that would come with it.

Polly entered the room a few moments later. She'd just fought down a rebellion in the kitchen using a call to family unity and was steaming for a fight but, taking in the sight of the broken man before her, the words died in her throat.

'For god's sake Tommy you need to take better care of yourself', she said instead, the concern evident in her voice. 'You'll do her no good if you end up in hospital yourself.'

Tommy looked up at her dazedly.

'I'll bring you some food', she said gently, resting a consoling hand on his cheek. 'Then you can clean yourself up and get your head down for a bit. You know the doctors said that they wouldn't have any news on the outcome of the phage treatment until tonight at the earliest and her father's with her. They'll call if there are any changes and there are plenty of people here to drive you whenever you need it.'

Tommy nodded his acquiescence dully, recognising the voice of authority. Sometime later he picked his way through a bowl of stew and then took a bath. He couldn't remember the last time he had changed his clothes let alone washed. Realising that he was on the verge of cracking up he decided that sleep was worth the risk of nightmares. He found his opium pipe and enough old resin to knock him out. As he drew in the smoke he felt sick. If Arabella died he knew that he would be at rock bottom again and this time he couldn't see a way back that left him with his soul intact.

When the nightmares came they were both horribly familiar and yet terribly changed. Again he was in the tunnels hearing the knocking of the German sappers. They finally broke through, as they almost always did, but this time they were led by Arabella terrified and confused to find herself in the hands of the enemy. She came for him gun drawn ready to shoot him down. He couldn't make her understand that he loved her and only wanted to help her. He forced her back. Then a spot of red bloomed on her belly. She looked up confused and met his eye; it was as if she saw him for the first time. He woke up crying.