Elizabeth returned to the hotel after her walk, her hands shaking as she remained grateful that Tommy hadn't followed her back to the hotel. She closed the door and locked it behind her, tossing the key onto the table by the door. The suite they were staying in was nice, but Elizabeth suspected she would have to get over luxuries if she intended to move out. She would have to find her own job. She would have to support herself. She wouldn't have Tommy. Was she really going to leave Tommy? Was she really going to abandon her husband?
Shaking her head, she refused to think that. He was the one who had abandoned her. He was the one who had chosen the work over her and Charlotte. She had given him the ultimatum: the ultimatum that had been coming for months. She knew that. She had buried it for so long. She had begged for him to stop doing this. She had begged for him not to do anything dangerous and then she had listened to Michael. She hated what he had said, but what he had said was so true.
She was tired. She was so tired of not knowing whether or not her husband would walk through the door at the end of the day. She was tired of worrying about their daughter being placed in danger. And Michael had asked him if he would hand the business over…well…the illegal business. His answer had been a firm no. And then it had all been one day. One day he would stop. One day he would give it all up. And how many times had he promised that? Elizabeth thought that they had gotten through the worst of their relationship when she had been drinking. If they had gotten through that then they could get through anything. But they couldn't. They couldn't get through this.
"Mrs Shelby."
Elizabeth straightened herself up. She stopped leaning against the door and sniffed, wiping her eyes before forcing herself to smile at Frances. But the maid saw right through her. She saw exactly what was going on. Offering her a sad glance, Frances bit down on her lip, clearly uncertain of if she should say anything. She was an employee. The Shelbys treated her well, but she still worked for them.
"It is turning cool out there," Elizabeth offered and moved into the living room further, shrugging her coat from her shoulders and dropping it down on the chair in the corner. "I hope that the weather can only stay dry for tomorrow. I promised Charlotte we would go back to the beach."
"You saw him, didn't you?" Frances asked, wondering if she had overstepped her boundary. But Elizabeth nodded once.
"He…well…I assume he has gone back to Birmingham," Elizabeth said. "I told him that I needed space from him. I just need to be away for a little while…for Charlotte."
"Mrs Shelby, I hope…well…" Frances trailed off as Elizabeth looked at the bottle of champagne in the corner. She moved over to it and Frances felt her breath catch in her throat as the woman picked the bottle up and popped the cork off. Reaching for a flute, she poured a glass and held it in her fingertips, looking at the liquid. Her hand began to shake and Frances knew that she had to do something. She had done nothing that entire year she had watched Elizabeth reach for alcohol. She had sat back and watched her turn into a recluse. She turned into a woman her own daughter didn't even know.
Grabbing the glass from her hand, France threw the liquid into the bucket that held the champagne and looked at Elizabeth. Elizabeth slowly turned her gaze onto Frances and for a second the maid feared the worst. She feared that Mrs Shelby would launch a tirade of abuse at her. She feared that she had truly overstepped the mark and would be gone. Where would she go? She had nowhere else.
But the woman did the opposite. She reached for Frances and drew her into an embrace. The maid startled for a moment as her employer began to break down, sobbing loudly, her body shaking. Frances sighed and closed her eyes. Running a hand up and down Elizabeth's back, she stroked it gently. She was older than Elizabeth. She might be an employee, but she was still a woman. She was a woman who could see another woman in distress. Elizabeth had it all. She had the fancy cars. She had the large house. She had enough dresses to wear one every day of the year. All that she wanted was there for her. But Frances knew the truth. She never wanted material things. She wanted her family safe.
….
Waking up the following morning, Elizabeth's head was pounding. She was struggling to think straight as she sat up, wondering when she had changed into her nightgown. She had remembered crying on Frances for what seemed like hours the night before. The poor woman must have thought that she had gone mad. Placing a hand to her forehead, Elizabeth looked to the curtains, daylight trying to break in through the thick material. She was almost tempted to lay back down and curl into a ball and sleep again. But she didn't. She knew that she had to get up as soon as she heard her daughter's voice in the living room.
Pushing the duvet from her body, she reached for her silk robe and slipped it on over her nightgown. Padding barefoot into the living room, she opened the door to see him sat there on the floor. He was dressed in his three-piece suit, his suit jacket slung over the arm of the chair. His white dress shirt was slightly crumpled and the blue tie against it askew. His hair was messy and his gun was nowhere to be seen. His pocket watch chain was visible against the grey material.
"Mummy, daddy said he doesn't have to work today."
"Did he?" Elizabeth said back, voice tense as Tommy turned to look to her. His arm remained dangling over his bent leg as he sat on the floor with his daughter by his side, holding onto the book she had been reading. "I think daddy got that wrong. He has to go back to Birmingham. He has business."
"Later," Tommy muttered and Elizabeth looked to the ceiling and nodded once.
"Later," she mumbled, echoing it back to him.
Looking to his wife, he arched a brow. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," Elizabeth responded and saw Frances come out of Charlotte's bedroom. "Frances, can you take Charlotte and brush her hair? I need to get changed."
"Come along, Charlotte," Frances urged and the little girl moved to her feet and went to take hold of the maid's hands.
Elizabeth turned on her heel, pushing the door behind her closed. But Tommy was quick. He stopped the door from shutting and walked into the bedroom as his wife sat down at the dresser and reached for her own hairbrush.
"What are we doin', Liz?" Tommy demanded from his wife, closing the door behind him softly. "What is goin' on?"
"Are you serious?" Elizabeth demanded from her husband, turning around on the seat to look at him. "Are you being deadly serious right now?"
"I am serious," Tommy said to her. "Liz, I don't know what we are doin'. I don't know why yer are bein' like this. Yer know who I am. Yer know what I do. Yer 'ave known for years and not once 'ave yer done this."
"Perhaps I have wised up," Elizabeth shrugged at Tommy. "Or perhaps I have seen what needs to be done? Perhaps I am tired of suffering like this?"
"Liz, I told yer that once Mosley is gone-"
"-And I told you that I am not waiting until you have done that," she said and turned back around, beginning to brush her hair as her head continued to pound, the headache she had getting worse as Tommy sat down at the end of the bed. "Because it will not end with Mosley. You will beat him and you will think you can keep going. It is like an addiction."
"I promise-"
"-And you have promised me before," Elizabeth said and moved to her feet, sliding her robe from her shoulders and resting it on the stool before going to the wardrobe where she had hung her dresses up. "You promise me things over and over, but you never come through, Tommy. You never ever come through."
"What the 'ell 'ave I done?" Tommy demanded, flapping his arm by his side as his wife went to the ensuite and began to change. "Liz, I 'ave given yer everythin'. I 'ave given us everythin'."
She stormed back out of the bathroom then, dressed only in her slip as she pointed to herself. "Do you not listen to me?" she said, her voice a loud snap. "I do not want any of that. I have told you that so many times, but it doesn't seem to get through to you. I don't want the mansion or the money. I don't want the staff or the cars. I want my family to be safe and if you keep going with this ridiculous illegal business then that is going to be taken from me…so I am walking away. I am taking our daughter and I am walking away."
"No."
Elizabeth arched her brow. "No?" she repeated to him.
"No. Yer not walkin' away," Tommy said confidently and moved to his feet, walking over to his wife with steady footsteps as he saw her grind her teeth together and jut her chin out. "Yer are not walkin' away from me and yer are not takin' our daughter."
"What?"
"Yer 'eard me," Tommy said to her. He looked down at her, hands in his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels. "Yer won't leave me because yer love me. Yer love me too much, Liz. We both know that."
"I love you so much," Elizabeth confirmed.
"And yer willin' to chuck it all away because yer won't wait for me to deal with Mosley?"
"I am not the one who is willing to throw everything away," she said.
"Yer were the one who gave me the ultimatum, Liz. Yer were the one who made that decision."
"I gave you the choice!" Elizabeth roared at him, pushing herself back from him, hands going through her hair and messing it up, despite having just brushed it. "How do you do this? How do you turn everything around on its head? Are you trying to manipulate me?"
"I am tryin' to show yer that yer are the one makin' it difficult," Tommy responded.
"Jesus Christ," Elizabeth whispered and shook her head. "We are going round and round in circles, Tommy. This is not getting us anywhere. Just stop it. We…I think that we have said all there is to say. You made your decision last night and I cannot keep doing this."
"Yer not leavin' me, Liz," Tommy said to her. "I won't let yer."
"You won't let me?" she checked with him. "Tommy, I am not your property. You do not own me. I can make my own mind up and I need to take Charlotte away from all of this. I need to protect our daughter."
"And yer think I wouldn't protect her?" Tommy demanded. "I'd die for 'er, Liz. I'd die for both of yer."
"And the scary part is how many times have you been close to death?" she demanded from him. "Besides, you should not need to make promises like that."
Tommy rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I can't talk to yer when yer like this," he complained. "Yer just don't get it, do yer? Yer don't get it. I told yer that yer can 'ave everythin' yer want and do yer know what that is doin' to me? The idea of givin' everythin' up…livin' a normal life…I don't know if can do it, but for you and Charolotte I am willin' to try."
"But that is the part that scares me," Elizabeth said, sitting down at the edge of the bed as Tommy sat down next to her, keeping a slight distance from her. "The part that knows that we are not enough…that you do not feel alive unless you are besting people and proving that you are better than them. I know you would do anything for us and you need us, but on our own we are not enough."
"I'm not the same men who came back from the war," Tommy whispered in a small voice. "The man before the war could 'ave given yer that. But this man…this man loves yer so much. I do. I need yer so much."
"But you also need the job," Elizabeth responded, "and the job is too dangerous."
"Come home," Tommy urged her, moving to place his hand on top of hers. "Liz, come home with me. Come home and bring our daughter back. We can talk about this after I 'ave dealt with Mosley."
Bowing her head, Elizabeth closed her eyes, blinking back the tears that she felt in her eyes. She couldn't do this.
"I can't," Elizabeth responded in a small voice and brought her hand away from his, letting her fingers fall into her lap. Moving to her feet after a moment, she sniffed loudly and walked towards the bathroom, speaking as she went. "You should go, Tommy."
"I'm not givin' up on yer, Liz," Tommy said, moving to his feet as she stood in the doorway. Holding onto the wooden frame, she turned her head back over her shoulder and looked at him in earnest.
"You gave up on me last night when you made your choice," she responded and Tommy felt his chest ache as she turned her back on him.
….
"I had hoped that your wife would be here, old sport."
Sitting in the dressing room before the rally took place, Tommy hand his hands clasped over his stomach, his mind on nothing but Elizabeth. Had he thrown her away for this? Had his wife really left him? Did she truly mean what she had said through that ultimatum.
"Then again, I had heard she was in Margate," Mosley said, leaning against Tommy's dresser and folding his arms over his chest. "I had heard she had left you, which I suspect makes sense. I never suspected she would stay with you."
"What?" Tommy demanded from him, finally looking up at him from where he sat.
"Well," Mosley said in a low drawl, "a high class girl like her…I did wonder why she had been with you in the first place. It makes sense. She would be unable to maintain the lifestyle that you have. Your business…the risks," he hissed the final 's' on the word. "She was not cut out for it. I can see that."
Tommy said nothing as Mosley clasped him on the shoulder and looked down to him.
"Don't worry, Shelby, I suspect she will find a good man to look after her soon enough," Mosley swept from the room after speaking those words and Tommy continued to stare at the mirror in front of him.
What was he doing? What was he playing at? The idea of anyone being with Liz terrified him. He would cut anyone who tried to go near his wife. Running his hands down his cheeks, he exhaled a sharp breath. How did he come back from this?
….
A/N: Do let me know what you think!
