Tommy barely had time to dress properly. He had reached for his suit jacket and shrugged into it from the back of the chair in his study where he had left it. He had urged Frances to keep quiet to Charlotte and James. He did not want them to get their hopes up until he knew for certain what had happened. Frances had asked him if he should be driving, but he had stated that he would be fine. As soon as he had parked the car, he removed his cap and stuffed it into his pocket, rushing into the hospital. He made his way to the private room where his wife was, looking to the men he had placed on the door. They nodded to him and he barely acknowledged them.
Slipping into her room, he almost thought that he would see her wide awake and sat up. But she was still flat on her back. Her hair was still fanned around her head and her eyes firmly closed. Tommy felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as he moved closer to her and the doctor that had been knelt by her side moved to his feet.
"Mr Shelby," he greeted him.
"What is it?" Tommy demanded from the man. "I thought she was awake?"
"Mr Shelby," the doctor sighed and Tommy sat down on the chair next to Elizabeth's bed, a hand moving to hers. "I warned you that we would not know anything and that what happened could simply have been a spasm…it might not have been a sign."
"But what 'appened?" Tommy demanded from him.
"A nurse was in here with her this morning," he spoke. "She saw her hand twitch. It can be a common occurrence with patients that are unconscious. She…well…sometimes it can be a sign and sometimes it might not be."
"It's a sign," Tommy whispered. He nodded his head, refusing to believe that it could be anything but a sign.
"I will leave you alone, Mr Shelby," the doctor spoke. "I will be back later to check on her."
Tommy grunted his response to him and moved closer to his wife's bed. He pulled the chair there and moved a hand down her cheek, stroking it softly and letting his fingertips roam her pale skin.
"I know that yer can 'ear me," Tommy whispered to her in a gentle voice, bending at the waist so that he could whisper against her ear. "Liz, come on, just give me a sign. Just give me somethin'."
But she didn't move. She remained still, sleeping soundly. Tommy moved his hand from her cheek into her hair, stroking it softly and untangling it around her head as his other hand reached for hers. He squeezed it tenderly and closed his eyes, letting a shaky breath escape his lips as he continued to will her to wake up.
He didn't know how long he had been sat there before he heard the door open. He glanced over to it, hand still stroking from her cheek to her hair softly and slowly. He felt his breath catch in his throat as he saw the one man walk in who he had no longing to see. Oswald Mosley stood there, tall and proud with his gaze set on Tommy. He rocked back and forth on his heels as Tommy sat up straight, moving to fold his arms over his chest.
"What do yer want?"
"No pleasantries, Mr Shelby?" Oswald demanded, voice terse as he sauntered into the room and Tommy ground his teeth together. He needed him to leave. He did not need to be in the same room as Oswald Mosley, not when he had his suspicions. Tommy had tried to kill him. He had failed, but was Mosley the kind of man to want revenge? Was he the kind of man to do this?
"My wife is lyin' 'ere and is holdin' on for 'er life," Tommy said, voice harsh. "I'm not in the mood for pleasantries."
"I suspected not," Mosley said and went to the other side of the bed, sitting down in the vacant chair and looking to Elizabeth. His gaze roamed over her slowly, his eyes almost piercing as Tommy instinctively reached for her hand, almost as if to tell her silently that he had her. "Will she wake up?"
His question was blunt. There was no tenderness to it. And Tommy could only shrug in response.
"I know what you are thinking, Shelby," Mosley said in a low voice. "But I can assure you that murdering women with a family is not my style, regardless of my longing for retribution."
Tommy glanced up and his gaze met Mosley's. There was a silent knowing between the two men. But the words remained unsaid and Tommy was grateful for that at that moment in time. He had no desire to involve himself in that discussion.
"So what are yer doin' here?" Tommy wondered, longing for a cigarette but refraining. Instead he sat back in his chair, still holding Elizabeth's hand.
Mosley shrugged and laced his fingers together, resting them on his stomach while he leant back. "I came to see how the wife of my political ally fares," Oswald informed him. "I was also wondering if you had any notion as to who would have done this to your wife?"
Tommy shrugged. "Not yet," he said in a low voice. He had Arthur and Finn looking into things and he would soon find out who would have done this to Elizabeth.
"I suspect you have many enemies," Oswald continued. "You have had vendettas against numerous individuals…Russians…Italians…a Detective from Belfast, if I heard correctly too? Do you not suspect that, throughout all of that, there would be some who would seek their own revenge on you?"
Tommy remained mute. Did Mosley not think that he had spent hours trying to work out who could have done this to him? His mind had gone through all the possible suspects and the people who were still alive who would want to cause him pain and suffering. He thought back to what his wife had said before. He thought back to all of the times when she had involved him not to get involved in the business that he did. She had warned him that it would eventually end in heartbreak, but Tommy always imagined that it would be him in a hospital bed, not Elizabeth.
"I will find out who did this."
"Allow me to help," Mosley said.
"Why?" Tommy demanded from him in a snap.
"Because, despite everything, our fates are entwined and your wife, well, let us say that I know that you will not rest until you have found out who has done this to her."
"Obviously."
"And my concern is that if you get hold of them then you might act," Mosley shifted and his face scrunched up, "like a feral dog."
Tommy didn't even bother to be offended at what he was hearing. Instead he grunted an incoherent response.
"And that would not reflect well on the party if you were seen," Mosley spoke coldly to Tommy. "And therefore, I wish to help you, to ensure that whatever happens is done away from prying eyes and in privacy."
Tommy kept silent instead. He looked to Mosley and nodded his head once. It seemed like the easiest response. If Mosley wanted to find whoever had done this to Elizabeth then Tommy would not stop him. He would not stop him for Tommy longed to find the man himself. He wanted to hurt him. He wanted to kill him and he would.
"Good," Mosley said and stood up, clasping his coat together and buttoning it up. He adjusted his tie against his collar. "I will talk to you later, Thomas."
Tommy didn't even respond to Mosley. Instead, his gaze went back to Elizabeth and he watched her sleep instead. Bending down, he kissed her on the forehead and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, longing to be closer to her for the time being.
…
Tommy hadn't wanted to leave the hospital. He had found himself laid on the bed, Elizabeth gathered in his arms as he cradled her. He had been on the verge of sleep when the door had opened and Finn had walked in, telling Tommy that Charlotte and James were asking after him, wanting to know what had happened to Elizabeth. Tommy had asked Finn to stay with Elizabeth, reluctantly uncurling himself from her side and kissing her. Finn had taken the vacant seat and Tommy had gone home, back to the children.
He had told them that there was no news and James had nodded, clearly trying to be the grown up as he sat down on the sofa and went back to staring vacantly at the fire that was burning in the fireplace. But Charlotte was not so grown up. Of course she wasn't. She was a little girl. She was his little girl.
"James," Frances spoke from the doorway, sensing that she had to do something. Charlotte was sat in the corner of a chair, curled into a ball and crying while Tommy remained by her side and James silent. "Come and help me in town, yes? I need to buy some things for the kitchen."
James nodded and moved over to her. He wanted to do something. He wanted a distraction. Tommy kept hold of Charlotte, letting her bundle against his side before he spoke, realising that he had to do something to distract her too. He wouldn't have her crying the entire time. He had to be there to help her.
He decided on a walk through the gardens, holding onto her hand as the sun shone brightly in the late afternoon.
"Who did this?" Charlotte asked from her father and he dropped his cigarette, stubbing it out with the toe of his shoe. "Finn said that you would find who did this."
"I don't know who did this, but I will find out."
"And will the police arrest them?"
"Aye," Tommy muttered, "somethin' like that."
Charlotte didn't push him on this, but she looked up to him. "Mummy said that eventually one day someone would get hurt," she said and Tommy stopped walking and peered down to her. She kept her gaze straight ahead, but Tommy sensed some anger inside of her. She was glaring into the distance.
"When did she say that?"
"I…she…when we were at the seaside," Charlotte whispered. "She thought that I was asleep and she was talking to Frances."
Tommy frowned. "So yer were listenin' in when yer shouldn't 'ave been?" he checked with his daughter.
"Yes," Charlotte admitted. "But she said that one day someone would get hurt and that is why she left you…because she did not want anyone to get hurt…but now she is the one who is hurt."
Tommy said nothing in response to that. How could he? He felt enough guilt as it was without knowing that his daughter blamed him for what had happened. But did she blame him? Did she truly know what was happening? She seemed to have a sense and Tommy felt his throat clench.
"I know," was all that Tommy could manage to say to her. He was struggling with words.
"Was she right?" Elizabeth asked from Tommy.
Probably, Tommy wanted to answer. But he didn't want to see her face when he did. Instead he simply shook his head.
"I don't know who did this," Tommy said to her. "But we both need to be strong for 'er, alright? We both need to be strong and 'ave faith that she will come 'ome."
"I know," Charlotte said and she looked up to her father, her eyes roaming over his face. "But what if you can't protect her again?"
Tommy bent down then and looked to his daughter. He didn't want to think like this. He didn't want to feel this guilt. But his daughter was right. He hadn't protected them like he should have. His past had a way of catching up with him.
"I will do everythin' that I can to protect all of yer, do yer understand me?" Tommy asked from Charlotte and she looked him in the eye as he held onto her shoulders. "I promise yer."
"I know," Charlotte responded. "But…" she trailed off and Tommy arched a brow.
"But what?"
"Nothing," Charlotte shook her head, but Tommy knew what she was thinking. He never wanted her to think that he could not protect her, but here he was. "Can we go and see mummy today?"
"Later," Tommy said in a non-committal tone. "But right now I just need somethin'."
"What?" Charlotte wondered.
Tommy leant forward and hugged her tightly. Charlotte wrapped her arms around him and he picked her up, holding her tightly to him and closing his eyes as he let his chin rest on the top of her head. He closed his eyes and Charlotte burrowed her head against his shoulder.
"Tommy!"
Tommy kept hold of Charlotte in his arms as he looked up, seeing Arthur approach him.
"We 'ave 'im."
Tommy's eyes widened and Charlotte looked puzzled. "What do yer mean?"
"The man who did this…who set the explosives up," Arthur said and Tommy's grip on Charlotte increased, his hand cradling the back of her head beginning to shake. "We 'ave 'im."
…
A/N: Do let me know what you think!