Elizabeth Charlotte Kimber had known luxury before. She had understood what it meant to sit up straight and proper whilst drinking tea in the correct manner. And yes, there was a correct way to drink tea. Elizabeth had laughed with her friends and discussed potential marriages whilst strolling in the grounds of their homes. She was seventeen years of age and had never seen a different world. That was until the beatings began, of course.
Robert Kimber was not a man to be trifled with and Jane Kimber knew that when she married him. She had provided him with two children, one boy and one girl, but that had never been enough. Robert strayed from the marital bed on more than one occasion, but it grew worse the year before the war began. He was openly dishonouring his wife at dinner parties. He took whores on his lap and allowed them to dangle over him as Jane stood in the background, her head held high and her gaze set on anything but her husband.
It was the first time Elizabeth had seen her father act in such a manner. She watched with horror as her brother also watched on, his brow furrowed and his mind wondering what was happening. It was that night when Jane confronted her husband. It was the first night he hit her.
Elizabeth had been walking on the upstairs landing back to her bedroom when she looked down and noted her mother and father screaming at each other. Elizabeth had hid in the shadows by the wall, her gaze focused down on the scene that unfolded. She struggled to hold a gasp in as the force of her father's slap echoed throughout the marble halls.
Jane struggled to regain her composure as her husband spat at the ground next to her and walked away. Elizabeth had rushed down to her mother, urging for her to stop crying. Jane had refused, but she chose to hold her daughter closer to her side.
The beatings only continued whenever Jane dared to confront her husband. Her daughter was the only to comfort her. Her son had been taken under his father's wing. Robert Kimber had whispered nothing but lies into Billy Kimber's ears. He had taught him how women needed to learn their place. He had told him that he could behave as he wanted. Elizabeth had often confronted her brother about his harsh words, but he had grabbed her harshly by the arm and told her never to question him or their father.
His grip had only increased and Jane had caught her son holding her on more than one occasion. It was only when Jane saw her son hit her daughter did she realise that she had to leave. She had tried to talk to Billy and make him see sense, but he had said nothing. He had the decency to look guilty at his mother's harsh words, but he never apologised. He never showed any remorse.
Jane felt a failure. She had let her son become his father and she hated herself for it. She had lost him and the guilt inside of her filled her up more than she cared to admit.
But she had a daughter. She had a young daughter who was suffering. And so Jane took all the money she could find from her husband's safe. She stuffed it into a purse and told her daughter to pack a small case. Elizabeth had been confused to begin with, but she had finally done as she was told. Her mother had often discussed leaving for a better life somewhere, but never did Liz think that she would do it. She had even urged for her mother to run.
And that was what they did. Jane could only think of one place to go where her husband would never look. He despised one area. He despised Birmingham. And that was where Jane ran.
"I understand that this is not luxury, Liz," Jane informed her daughter.
Elizabeth looked around the small room her mother had agreed to rent. It was dark with wallpaper falling off the walls. The fireplace by the bed had old wood inside of it along with bits of newspaper. The carpet was damp and the floorboards creaked underneath their feet with every single step they took. There was one bed against the wall and another along the wall by the window. A wardrobe missing a door stood in the corner and a door missing a knob led to a small bathroom in the corner.
"We have to share the kitchen with two other families here," Jane continued, pulling her lace gloves from her fingers and pushing the curtains open, coughing softly as dust fell from them. "But no doubt it will do us well. I shall try to find work as soon as possible, I promise."
Elizabeth kept silent, doing her best not to allow tears to fall from her face. Looking out the window by her mother's side, she saw nothing but terraced houses across a street covered in puddles and rain. Jane wrapped an arm around her daughter's waist and kissed the top of her head.
"Should I not find work, mother?" Elizabeth wondered. "Surely we shall need as much money as we can get?"
Jane had never pictured this life for her child. She had always thought that Elizabeth's life would consist of dinners and afternoon tea with her friends. She would marry and spend her days raising her children. Not once did Jane think that she would subject her daughter to this. But she had to save her. She had to save her from her father and brother. As much as money brought them stability, it had never brought Jane happiness.
"There is no need, love," Jane promised her, tucking her dark curls behind her ears as she pulled at the flowing dark blue skirt she wore. "You stay here and I shall return shortly. We need food and…well…bathing supplies…"
"I shall come too," Elizabeth urged her mother, ashamed to admit that she was scared for her mother. "No doubt we both need some fresh air."
"Liz," Jane sighed, looking down to her petite daughter.
She couldn't help but think that they looked completely out of place. Their dresses were made of the finest material and they had no plain skirts or blouses. Everything they owned was too ostentatious for where they were now.
"Please," Elizabeth whispered, "I do not want to stay here."
Sighing, Jane took her daughter's arm and led her out of the room, dropping the key into her string purse once she locked the door behind her. Elizabeth gripped her mother's arm tightly as she wondered if the sun ever shone in Birmingham. The clouds were grey and the air was cold. Men and women wandered the streets, some laughing and joking whilst others yelled and argued. Jane looked around herself, wondering if this was normal behaviour for many people.
"I think you shall struggle to find somewhere for afternoon tea around here, darling," Jane tried to make light of the situation and she admitted relief when her daughter smiled softly.
They moved through the streets slowly and Elizabeth followed her mother into stores to buy soap and food. She carried the paper bag dutifully as her mother finally moved into stores with the intent of looking for work. Elizabeth watched her come out every time, faced with rejection each and every time. Jane had to admit that her spirit was breaking by the time they came to The Garrison.
"Mother," Elizabeth worried as she saw her mother move towards the building.
She could hear yells of obscenities from the building and smashing of glasses. Jane looked down to her daughter when she stopped her from entering. Nodding, Jane knew that she had to go in. It was worth a try, but she would not force her daughter into an uncomfortable situation.
"Stay here for a moment, Liz," Jane urged, placing a hand on her daughter's cheek. "I will be back."
Elizabeth had no option to stop her mother from rushing off without her. The woman quickly entered the pub and Liz huffed at her leaving.
Elizabeth watched on as men fell out of the pub and she shook her head, turning her head over her shoulder and moving slowly down the street, but not too far away.
"What do we have 'ere boys?"
Elizabeth tensed as she felt a hand move to her shoulder. She whirled around to the sight of a man moving stood behind her. She shrunk away as another man laughed lowly, shaking his head and dropping his cigarette by his side. He was younger than the man gripping her shoulders and the first thing Liz noticed was the prominence of his cheekbones and the burning of his blue eyes.
"Leave the girl alone, Arthur," he spoke. "She is no whore."
The other men in the group seemed to sigh at that and look disappointed. Liz could only feel belittled. She had been gone for one day and already men were seeing her as a whore.
"How do you know that?" Arthur wondered as most of the men seemed to wander off to another group of women who were laughing and not scared to drape themselves over them.
Taking a drag of his cigarette, Elizabeth watched as the man glanced over to her and back to the group he had been with. "Look at her. She's nothin' but a scared little mouse. Follow Freddie if you want someone willing, eh?"
Elizabeth doubled back at hearing that, unable to think of selling her body for coin. The man named Arthur chuckled and moved off as Elizabeth remained stood where she was; knowing that she should walk away and go to find her mother. She had no chance to move as the man blocked her from going anywhere. She deduced that he had to be at least eight years her senior from the way he held himself.
"You're new 'ere, ain't ya?" he asked of Liz.
Feeling her mouth dry out, she glanced to the side and longed for her mother to come and find her to stop her from conversing with the man anymore, but she had no such luck.
"Of course you are," he answered his own question. "You're some posh gal from somewhere…that much anyone can see."
"And if I am?" Liz finally asked from him and he continued to smile, wondering who this girl was. She didn't belong here and she certainly didn't know how to act to keep herself safe.
"Then I'd keep your 'ead down," he informed her. "A sweet looking lass like you won't survive for long 'ere…unless you've come to be a high class whore?"
He knew that he had struck a nerve. The girl looked away from him and he noted her pale face turn a tinge of red. She most certainly was not accustomed to being spoken to in such a manner. A smirk played on his face and he dropped his cigarette to the ground, stomping on it with his dirty-toed boot.
"I am here for no reason concerning you," she spoke.
"Well," he laughed softly, stuffing his hands into his long coat pockets, bending backwards slightly as the girl looked insulted by his laughter. "You can be quite feisty, eh?"
"I have never had to be," Liz responded.
"Really?" he wondered from her, moving his hand out to the high collar of her jacket and sweeping it downwards, noting the bruises sat on her skin. "You ain't doing a great job of hiding these though, are ya?"
Saying nothing, Liz pushed his hand from her at the wrist. She didn't want to tell him the cause of her bruises. She didn't even know this man, but he was trying to discover more about her.
"I do not know you," Liz declared. "Why do you think I would tell you anything?"
"I don't," he responded coolly. "But I do know that you need to be careful…you see…people 'ere…well, they ask questions. How long do you think it will be before someone asks questions about the posh looking brunette gal who doesn't belong 'ere, eh?"
Liz knew that he might have a point, but her mother had insisted that no one would look for them in Birmingham. She had promised her that they were safe so long as they kept their heads down.
"I trust you have a name?"
Liz took him in for a brief moment, wondering what she should say. "Elizabeth Poole."
Liz remembered her Aunt marrying a Poole and it was the only fake surname she could come up with without looking suspicious by trying to avoid the question. Arching a brow, he looked unconvinced with what he was hearing, but he nodded his head.
"And is it not polite for you to give me your name?" Liz dared to ask, knowing that she had never been this bold before in her life. Men often conversed with her, but they never insulted her or spoke to her with a lack of manners.
"Polite?" he repeated. "You really ain't from here."
"We have established that," Liz mumbled.
"Aye, we have," he nodded. "Thomas Shelby."
"Pleasure," Liz inclined her head. "But I should honestly leave. My mother shall be wondering where I am."
"I don't doubt it."
Liz didn't know why he still had that infuriating smirk on his face. She turned on her heel and Tommy watched her leave back towards The Garrison. It was only as she approached the steps did a woman come out from the pub. She too was dressed in finery and her hair was neatly coiffed on top of her head. Her arm went around Liz's shoulders and a wide smile played on her face as she laughed and kissed Liz's head. It was then when Tommy established that the girl was the woman's daughter.
Tommy continued to study them before he noted Liz turn around, her eyes looking back to Tommy. He continued to stand there, his hands still in his pockets as he wondered what Elizabeth Poole was truly doing in Birmingham.
...
A/N: Thank you to anyone who showed an interest in the Prologue of the chapter! We've gone back before the war for a while now before the events of Peaky Blinders. I do hope that you will leave me a review! Hopefully have another update up tomorrow!
