The Girl and The Gangster
Summary: After being turned down from every secretarial role in Birmingham, Alice becomes desperate. Unable to provide for her sick mother, herself and more importantly, her young child, she takes a chance on joining the Shelby Company ltd. But when she runs into a familiar face, her whole world comes crumbling down around her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
They stepped into the Garrison; his arm wrapped tightly around her waist with her body as close to his side as he could possibly get. He didn't want to let her go; it was his turn to look after her and he wasn't going to let her out of his sight. They weren't out of the woods yet; she was still so fragile that she could break at any second. They sat at the booth and Michael caught Tommy's pitiful look, obviously Pol had told them what had happened, and Michael couldn't have anyone treating her any different, she would only be embarrassed.
"So, where are the drinks?" he raised a brow and looked around the table until the barmaid set a bottle of whiskey in front of him. He grabbed a couple of glasses and poured one out for himself and then one for Alice. "I thought this was a celebration, not a wake."
Alice took her glass and took a long sip. "Did everything go to plan?" she looked at Arthur and then to Tommy.
"Everything went well. Paul lost a few good men, but thankfully only a few of our men were injured."
"Michael missed out on a good fight." Arthur teased as he snatched the bottle from him. He wasn't going to turn down the chance to restart the party.
"Instead, I got to fight my son when it came to him eating his greens." He smirked a little and raised his glass. "At least I get to celebrate like I was involved."
"You have to mash them into his potatoes, to make him eat them." Alice said quietly into her glass.
There was a long pause of silence and no one knew what to say. Pol had warned them all not to bring anything up about Danny and with her state of mind, the Shelby's felt like they were tiptoeing around Alice.
"Next time, you'll be right in the thick of it." It was hard to feel the tension when he was intoxicated, but Arthur didn't really know any better. He hadn't realised that he was opening a can of worms.
"That's the thing, there's not going to be a next time. Not for us anyway." He glanced at Alice and watched as she gulped back her mouthful of whiskey harshly. "I've decided that it would be the best thing for us to go back to New York, we had been considering staying in Birmingham but for a while, it's not going to be a possibility."
"What? You can't go." Arthur responded with a furrowed brow.
"Arthur, they can make their own decisions." Pol reminded him, surprisingly she was taking it a lot better than the two brothers.
"It's for the best Arthur," Tommy glanced at his brother and nodded, "I know that it's been nice having the family back together but it's what's best for them and what's best for business." He cleared the phlegm from his throat and put out his cigarette in the ash tray. "I have a plan for you in New York, but I won't bore you with details tonight, tonight is a celebration that we get to live another day and a send-off to Michael and Alice," he raised his glass towards them, his eyes lingering on Alice, "to your happiness in New York."
Ever since that day at the graveside, it was hard to sleep, every time she closed her eyes, she saw Danny's face and when she lay still, she could feel the pressure on her lungs as if she were back under the water. She sat up and looked down at Michael as he snored beside her, blissfully unaware about the inner turmoil in her heart. Alice knew that she had put him through the ringer, and she didn't know if he'd ever forgive her for what she tried to do. Her fingers reached out and stroked the stubble on his cheek carefully enough not to wake him. She didn't have an answer for what was going on in her head, all she knew was that it kept her awake.
What stopped her head from spinning was watching over her children, Johnny was such a light sleeper that she couldn't touch him without disturbing his rest, but Rose was young enough to sleep through being held. With her daughter in her arms, she sat on the rocking chair by the window; the moonlight illuminating the baby's face as Alice gazed down at her in awe. As she placed her nose to the top of her head, breathing in her scent, Alice felt at peace, calm and collected. She upset herself, how could she think that it was ever okay to abandon them? What was she thinking?
"Having trouble sleeping?" his voice was raspy from just waking up and his eyes were still heavy, but he could still Alice clearly.
"Just a little." She got out of the rocking chair and carefully placed Rose back in her crib. When she stepped towards Michael, he placed his hand on her shoulder and escorted her out of the nursery.
"How about we have a little night cap?" he kissed the side of her head and waited for her permission. He led her into the kitchen and instructed her to sit as he looked through the cupboards for his best bottle of Irish whiskey. He poured them each half a glass and stood across from her, his elbows propping him up against the counter. "I've got us booked on the next boat to New York, it leaves in a few weeks and first thing in the morning, I'll call up an associate in the city to find us a new penthouse to live in. This time, I'm going to buy it."
"Will Mrs Adler be joining us in New York?"
"No, Mrs Adler will stay here so that if we come back for Christmas and that sort of thing, the house will be ready for us."
"Before we left New York, I heard a few of the girls in the office talking about The Hamptons in the summertime," she looked down at her glass, rotating it in her hand, "I think a bit of sunshine and relaxation would do us the world of good."
"I'll tell you this, if business goes to plan and if I make the right investments on Tommy's behalf, I'll buy you the best summerhouse The Hamptons has to offer," he watched her eyes light up ever so slightly, "on one condition."
The whiskey went down smoothly as she kept her eyes on Michael. When she raised a brow at him, he let out a sigh.
"I don't know how to help you Alice… I want you to see a professional about your head. I need you back, I need you with me but more importantly, the kids need you. The lights have to be on, Alice."
She pressed her lips together and dropped her eyes to her glass. "Are you going to lock me up in one of those asylums?"
"No, god no Alice. I couldn't do that to you. I think you need a therapist, someone that has an explanation to everything that you're feeling. I'll find the best of the best, but only if you want to get better." When she didn't answer him, he stepped around the counter and placed his fingertips underneath her chin, tilting her head up towards him. "I don't know how long you've been feeling like this and since that night in your mother's house, you barely talk to me. I'm partly to blame because I've been busy with making the arrangements, but you should be telling me that you're having trouble sleeping. I just want you to get better. I want my wife back."
She moved her hand to the back of her head, her fingers knotting into her pinned up curls. "Can I at least think about it? I don't want a stranger knowing all of my secrets."
"I will find someone that knows how to look the other way, if that's what you're worried about." He took his hands away from her face and took a step back. "Just… I'll let you think about it. That's all I'll say." He finished off his drink and left her in the kitchen. "I'll be waiting for you upstairs." He called out, arms behind his head. Michael didn't understand why she was resisting, he felt a little defeated. He just wanted Alice back.
Six months later…
Things weren't working out exactly how Alice had planned; as she prepared for her charity gala in attempts to rub elbows with New York's high society and become a socialite in her own rights, many of her invitations remained unreturned. She sat in her office, her head in her hands as her cigarette burning away in between her fingertips. She didn't understand why she hadn't got any replies; the Gray name was becoming more reputable in the city as Michael made the right investments and made them more money, so that shouldn't have been the problem. Everything they had been working on was legitimate, there was nothing, to her knowledge, dodgy going on with Paul and Michael. The two of them had been as thick as thieves since they returned to New York, so it was anyone's guess.
She almost burnt herself with her cigarette when there was a knock on her office door. Through the glass, she could see Michael standing there with a small smile on his face. As he came into the office, she took one last puff and put the cigarette out, her eyes finding his face. "Can I help you?"
"What's going on in here?" he motioned with his open palm at the wreckage of newspapers and documents.
"Just a bit of light reading." He gave her a look of concern, she told him she was going to be honest with him and he knew the tell-tale signs of when she was hiding something. "My party is going to be a disaster. Barely anyone is going and I'm going to be the laughingstock of the Upper West Side. Perhaps Broadway will make a musical about my failure."
"Oh, come on now, Alice, your party isn't for another couple of months. Everyone knows that these people RSVP late."
"Well, for my sake I hope you're right. So far, the only people that are going is Paul, under a pseudonym, a few ex-Broadway actresses that have turned to alcoholism, a couple of local politicians that are going to be using me to secure a few votes and Ada, if she can get Tommy to give her the time off work and make it here from Boston."
He shook his head and rested his weight on the doorway. "Everything will work out alright in the end. Trust me. Now, come into my office, there's someone I want you to meet." He went to walk away, but when he looked over his shoulder, Alice hadn't moved. "Today, Alice."
She rolled her eyes with a groan and gathered up her papers into one pile before following her husband into his office next door. There was someone sitting in one of the armchairs, a man in his late forties; he looked respectable and distinguished but she had no idea who he was. He got onto his feet and extended a hand towards her.
"Mrs Gray, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Dr Daiwd Krol."
She took his hand hesitantly and shook it slowly. "Daiwd, that's a Polish name, isn't it?" when he nodded, she glanced at her husband as he sat behind his desk. "Why has Michael brought you here?"
"As you know, I have been trying to find you a therapist since we got to New York. You wanted someone that you can trust to keep your secrets and Paul suggested this man here." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. "Would you believe that this man is Harvard educated in psychology?"
"How does a Polish man study at Harvard? More importantly, how does Paul know a Harvard alum?"
"My mother was an American with good connections and my father and Paul's mother were cousins."
"Hmm," her tone was approving, but her face was giving off a different impression, "small world. Do you really think that you can help me?"
"Without a doubt, I wouldn't be standing here if I didn't think I could."
"I'll be honest with you Dr Krol, at times my thoughts can be dark, and my episodes can be a little manic. Michael thinks it's down to stress, don't you Michael?"
"I think it could be down to a lot of things, but I don't like to comment." He replied as he poured himself a glass of gin.
She tilted her head up slightly, peering up at Dr Krol as her tongue ran along the back of her teeth. Alice believed she could get over this by herself, but a promise was a promise, even if she didn't want to keep it. "Do you think you can handle my dark thoughts?"
"You wouldn't be the first patient of mine that has tried to scare me off, Mrs Gray." He placed his hands behind his back and coyly raised a brow. "That's why your husband has acquired my services."
"Fine, I can tell when I'm beat. When is our first session?"
"Wednesday at noon," Michael said as he tipped his glass towards his wife, "you now have Wednesdays off."
"Sessions will be at your penthouse, somewhere where you feel at ease."
"Thank you for coming, Dr Krol, I'll see you to the elevator." He got up from his desk and placed his hand on the therapist's shoulder as he walked him out of the office.
Alice watched them until the door closed behind them and sat on the edge of Michael's desk, lifting his half-drunk glass to her lips. She took a small sip and raised her brow at him as he re-entered the room. "Of course, you had to tell Paul of my mental stability."
"It slipped out one night when I had a few too many of these," he took the glass from Alice's hands and placed one hand in his trouser pocket, "and he sympathised. Offered his kin's services."
"I don't want my business spread around Manhattan, it's bad enough that your family know, I don't need your associates knowing either."
"Paul is a friend to you and I and I was quite emotional that night. It was the night after you threw that glass at my head."
She folded her arms across her chest and stared down at the floor, a smirk appearing on her face. "I do hope you told him that you deserved it."
"I know I did, the people that live below us know I did and I'm sure the whole of Manhattan knows that I did." He set his glass down and gripped Alice by the shoulders tenderly. "You can see that you need Dr Krol, don't you?"
"I do, and I wish that it works," she turned her eyes up to his face, "I just want you to treat me like I'm not crazy. No more telling Johnny to be careful with me and don't be telling the maids to take Rose away from me when she cries. Being their mother makes me feel, normal."
He took in her words and realised that his way of trying to make things easier for her was only hindering her healing. "Okay, duly noted."
"And it's been weeks since you've slept in the same bed as me. You are allowed to share a bed with me."
He moved a hand to her neck, his thumb travelling along her jawbone and his eyes roaming her face. "I know, but it's hard for me to behave around you and right now isn't the best time for a surprise."
She pushed her body a little closer to Michael until she could feel his breath on her face, when his breathing became deeper, she rested her hand on his chest, tracing around his pounding heart with her fingertip. "Then I guess you'll just have to continue sleeping in that cold guest bed." She placed a quick kiss on his lips and moved out of his grasp.
He ran his hand over his hair, slicking it back down and spun on his heel. "I'll join you, but only for one night."
She laughed under her breath and headed towards the door. "If you say so."
Wednesday came quicker than she would've liked. It was just Alice and Rose in the house, apart from a couple of maids, and it was peaceful. It was quite easy for her to sit and watch Rose all day. When Dr Krol arrived, she handed Rose to one of the maids and glided towards the door, greeting her new doctor with a handshake. She led him to their study and poured herself a drink. "Would you like one doc?"
"No, I don't drink on the job." He set his briefcase on the desk and dug through it for a notebook and a pen. "Make yourself comfortable Mrs Gray and then we'll begin."
She wandered over to the chaise lounge and tucked her legs underneath her as she sat, her glass rested on the arm of the chair. "Where would you like me to start?"
"With how you're feeling today, what emotions are you feeling?" She raised her brow at him with a sneer. "Do you feel in despair? Are you happy today, Mrs Gray? Have you been having any suicidal thoughts?" he lowered himself into the seat and flicked open his notebook, ready to jot down whatever she said.
"I feel neutral, doc but you can write down that I haven't had any suicidal thoughts in a long time."
"Good to hear. Have you had any nervousness or giddiness?"
"I feel my nerves almost every second of every day; my mind is constantly finding ways to deafen me. I smoke and drink more than what I ever did, just to keep myself occupied. As for giddiness, I was in a particularly good mood the other night and Michael can assure you of that." She took a sip of her gin and tried to keep her smug look from her face as Dr Krol gawked at her.
He scribbled her words down and made a few noises under his breath. "Okay, now that we've established how you've been these past few days, I want you to tell me about the very first time you started having these dark thoughts of yours."
"I've been thinking about that for a while… I was newly nineteen and living in this tiny one bedroom flat above a pub in Manchester. My son was only two and my mother's cancer diagnosis was fresh. I was looking for Michael and I had been led to Manchester by a fraudster. I couldn't find any work, so we were basically penniless and the noise from the pub below kept Johnny crying all night. I never got any sleep and when I did, the rats would wake me up with their scratching on the walls." Alice paused for a moment, peeling her eyes away from Dr Krol and turning attention to her glass, swirling the contents as she tried to keep her emotions under control.
"It is okay to cry, Mrs Gray. Emotion is part of my job."
"If I start crying, I don't think I'll ever stop." She knocked back her drink and closed her eyes. "I thought that this was no life for a baby, it was no life for anyone. I was going to leave Johnny at an orphanage and take my mother to the nuns so that I could throw myself off a bridge."
"And what stopped you?"
"I came home after a long day of being turned down at every office and I was ready to do it when Johnny toddled over to me with these big bright eyes and this goofy smile on his face and when I lifted him into my arms, he said 'mumma' for the first time. As soon as that word came out of his mouth, I reminded myself that my only reason for carrying on was for that boy and carry on I would."
"Being desolate would drive even the most strong-willed person into a state of despair. I don't want you blaming yourself for any of those things that occurred in your past, everyone has their moments where they just want to turn off the noise." He nodded at her and his words gave her some comfort. "And what about your mother's death? Michael says that a couple of weeks ago, it would've been a year since she died and that it had also been your first year as a married couple yet, you only ever acknowledged your wedding anniversary."
"I didn't want to drag him down with me, I acknowledged her death in my mind and in my heart, then I moved on to something happier."
"Michael believes that you haven't allowed yourself to get over her death, you even admitted to him that you didn't have the chance to mourn her."
"I don't see the point of mourning her now that it's been over a year."
"It would be good for your soul, Mrs Gray."
"Would it help if I mourned her?"
"I don't see the harm in allowing yourself to grieve for a loved one."
"I'll give it a go; let you know if it makes a difference." When Dr Krol closed over his notebook, Alice looked at the clock on the wall and noticed that it had already been an hour. "Is that it?"
"An hour a week to get your thoughts and feelings out; I'll make a diagnosis when I've gathered enough information and get you the right medication." He placed the notebook back into his briefcase and got onto his feet. "It wasn't so bad opening up, was it?"
"No, I suppose it wasn't." she walked Dr Krol to the door. "Are you going to report back to Michael?"
"No, I made it clear to your husband that you are my patient and with that comes confidentiality. Your dark thoughts will stay with me, Mrs Gray." As soon as she opened the door, he stepped into the hallway.
"You don't have to call me Mrs Gray, call me Alice from now on."
"I will see you at the same time next week, Alice."
The smell of roast chicken and gravy greeted him as he returned home from work. He took his hat from his head and placed it on the rack along with his coat and followed the smell into their dining room. Alice had their dinner plated up and waiting for him, Johnny had already started eating his, but Alice was waiting patiently. She seemed different. It wasn't a big change, but it was noticeable.
"Did you cook this?" he asked as he sat at the head of the table.
"I did, I thought I would make my mother's favourite meal. She always loved a classic." Alice placed a napkin onto her lap and passed Michael the gravy boat. "I thought that since I wasn't going to be at her graveside this year, or possibly any year, that we would sit and eat her favourite food and share stories about her." He gave her a small yet proud smile as he took the gravy boat from her hands. "Johnny has already shared one of his stories."
"You did?" Michael looked at his son and raised his brows. "What was your story?"
"I was telling mumma that I remember nanny used to comb my hair by the fire the night before I had to go back to school every week. And that she had this funny smell."
"She used to wash her clothes with mothballs, didn't she?" When Johnny nodded, she started to cut up the chicken on her plate. "You always hated that smell."
"Well, I have a story about your mother, if it's alright to share?" He watched his wife's face; she had no clue what story he was going to tell or if it was going to be appropriate for Johnny to hear. But she agreed, and he continued, "When I was a young lad like you Johnny, your mum and I used to attend choir together. Your mum was always so loud and loved singing her hymns, but I was new to the village and quite shy. One day, your mum decided that it would be a good idea for us to sneak into one of the classrooms and draw on each other with the coloured chalk."
Alice grinned and shook her head. "I think you're remembering wrong, it was your friend, Christopher's idea and I backed him up."
"Anyway, we were having a laugh and we were a mess. Your nanny came looking for us and stumbled on us covered in chalk from head to toe. She stormed into the room like a banshee and gripped us all by the wrists and she lined us up against the wall. She asked whose grand idea it was, and your mum pointed at me and of course your nanny believed her, so she threw me over her knee and spanked my bottom so hard that I cried." Michael looked over at Alice. "I was terrified of your mother for years after that."
"So was I, I didn't touch a piece of chalk for at least a year."
"Have you anymore stories?" Johnny looked between his parents as he kicked his legs underneath the table.
"I have plenty, I could keep you here all night…"
A:N Thank you for your continued support with this story, the reviews, the follows and alerts have been much appreciated. I still have a lot of things planned for this story and the next lot of chapters will be focused more on Alice and Michael than the other Shelbys. Do you think that the couple will get their quiet life in New York? What do you think will happen, let me know!