Elizabeth had prepared herself for Tommy's wrath as soon as she walked back into the house. She had sighed to herself, wondering what was going through her husband's mind. Pol had once been his closest ally. She had been the woman he had trusted above all else with the business, except for Elizabeth, of course. However, that had changed. It had changed and now Pol was left out in the cold. Elizabeth didn't like that. She knew that Pol would choose Michael. He was her son. But that should not mean that she should be cast out completely.
Walking into the entrance hall, Elizabeth hung her coat up on the rack in the corner. Slipping her gloves from her fingers, she rested them on the sideboard before moving toward the study. The door was slightly ajar, but Elizabeth paused when she saw two familiar figures at the top of the stairs. Charlotte was peering through the railings of the staircase while James peered over the top of the bannister. Arching a brow, she began moving up the steps instead of into the study.
"What are you two doing?" she questioned, sitting on the top step and looking to the both of them. Charlotte was still wearing her school uniform, tugging on the hem of her skirt. James was due to begin at school the next week after Elizabeth had enrolled him and persuaded the headmaster that there was space for him in class.
"Daddy came in and was angry," Charlotte muttered, still tugging the skirt. "He picked me up from school and said nothing. He was slamming doors when he came back."
Elizabeth rolled her eyes at his dramatics.
"Is he angry?" Charlotte pressed.
Elizabeth shrugged. "Not with you," she promised her daughter. "Everything is fine. Daddy is just angry because of the business and work…don't worry. He will be fine in a bit."
"Good," Charlotte said and Elizabeth folded her arms in her lap.
"So, how was school?" she wondered from her daughter and then looked to James. "And how was your day with Frances?"
"Great," James responded earnestly. "She let me help her do the shopping today."
"Excellent," Elizabeth said.
"And I learned my nine times tables," Charlotte said with a toothy smile. "I can do it all without stopping now. We also worked on spelling again. I came top of the class."
"Well," Elizabeth said, reaching over and running a hand over her daughter's cheek. "Someone is definitely a clever girl. I wonder where you get your brains from."
"Daddy said him," Charlotte said.
Elizabeth scoffed, rolling her eyes before moving to her feet. "Of course he did," she responded. "Why don't you two go and play for a little while? I will go and talk to daddy and see what he has to say for himself. I'll call you down for dinner."
"Okay," Charlotte agreed, grabbing James by the hand and dragging him off towards her own bedroom. James looked apprehensive as Elizabeth walked back down the stairs and towards the study once more. He had seen things on the street before.
He had seen men get angry and hit women. He had seen them lash out and treat women as though they were nothing. He had seen his own mother be treated like that numerous times and it hurt him. He knew about Tommy Shelby too. He knew all the bad things he had done. But he knew that Elizabeth was safe with Tommy. Yet James felt a strong urge to go and defend her. He wanted to protect her. He knew that he couldn't and he knew that an argument between a husband and a wife was none of his business. Yet, he thought at that moment, if ever Elizabeth needed protecting, he would step up. He owed her that much.
Walking into the study, Elizabeth let out a soft sight as she saw her husband slumped over his desk, hand holding a pen and glasses perched on the edge of his nose. He was looking over some papers, seemingly interested more in them than the creaking of the opening door. Elizabeth sighed and folded her arms over her chest, crumpling her blouse.
"Do you intend to talk to me?" she wondered from him.
"Depends," he grunted back and then coughed, still focused on his work. "Do you intend to keep lyin' to me?"
"Unfair," Elizabeth pointed out to him. "Tommy, I did not lie to you…I just did not tell you that I was going to see your aunt for tea."
"I said that Pol would not 'elp us."
"I never said that I would not go and see her though," Elizabeth pointed out to her husband. "You never made me promise that, Tommy."
Tommy grunted at that, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. Finally he picked his gaze up and looked over to his wife, dropping his pen on top of the papers he had been looking over. Elizabeth chewed down on her bottom lip, wondering if this was going to go the way she hoped. She didn't want to argue with Tommy over this, but she needed him to understand that Pol was still family. In a sense, Elizabeth cared deeply for the matriarch of the family, despite everything they had been through.
"So yer tryin' to get out of this on technicalities?"
"Out of what?" Elizabeth questioned, shrugging her hands and rolling her eyes to the ceiling. "Honestly, Tommy, I did nothing wrong. I just went for tea with Pol…of course, Michael was going to come up in conversation. You knew that. Besides, she has the same opinion as me. She wants both of you to see sense. She knows this will only end in tears."
"And what else did yer tell 'er?"
"Oh, Tommy, you are being paranoid," Elizabeth hissed at him, unfolding her arms and letting them dangle by her side. She flapped them against her sides for a moment before daring to sit in the chair across from him. Leaning back, she looked over to him and clutched onto the arms of the seat. "I did not tell her anything about the business."
"And 'ow do yer know that yer can trust 'er? How do yer know she isn't workin' with Michael?"
"Because she is your aunt," Elizabeth said. "She is the woman who has been by your side through thick and thin. She is the same woman who saved me from Campbell, or have you forgotten that? She just does not want to see anyone hurt. If you stopped being so blinded by your hatred for Michael then you would see that too."
Elizabeth folded one leg over the other and buried her face into her hands, elbows resting on her kneecap as she lowered her head into her fingertips. She closed her eyes and Tommy watched her for a few moments. He gulped, closing his eyes and daring to imagine what the image would have been like of Campbell having his hands on his wife. He pushed the thought aside, a bout of bile rising in his throat that he had to push down. He knew that he owed his aunt for that. He would always owe her that.
"I know what she 'as done for us," Tommy merely whispered.
"Then you should know that she does not wish any of you ill. She does not want to get in the middle of this…but Michael is her son," she concluded. "She will take his side, but that does not mean she will help him in whatever half cooked scheme he has going on," Elizabeth said, lifting her head to look back over to Tommy. "She is your aunt…Charlotte adores her…just…please…you don't need to talk business with her, but don't treat her so coldly."
"No business," Tommy said to his wife. "I mean it, Liz. Yer talk no business with 'er."
Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth shrugged. "Fine," she said. "But don't you dare think you can come in and talk to me as you did in that restaurant. It was embarrassing."
"Yer think it was embarassin'?" Tommy asked. "I stood there and people watched as my own wife defied me."
"Excuse me?" Elizabeth snapped back. "You might be someone when you are in the House of Commons, Tommy, but I am not your property to order around. You know when you married me that I was not a docile woman for you to boss around."
"Yer, don't I bloody know it," Tommy muttered, leaning back and folding his hands against his stomach. He watched Elizabeth then, waiting for her to say something. Instead her lips simply quirked and Tommy's did the same. She tucked her hair behind her ear and Tommy placed his glasses onto the desk too. "So is that it? Argument finished?"
"If you want it to be," she confirmed with a nod of her head.
"Aye," Tommy said. "Yer know I don't particularly enjoy fightin' with yer."
"Well, we've had enough arguments before…somehow we seem to get through them."
"Sign of a good marriage," Tommy concluded and stood up, moving around the desk towards his wife. He moved his hand out, picking his wife up from her chair before wrapping his arms around her waist. "No matter how many arguments we 'ave…I always come crawlin' back to yer…always…"
"Hmm," she hummed, hands limps against his chest as she played with his tie. "Perhaps that is because no one else would have you."
He smiled lightly as she pressed her lips to his and her own arms went around his waist, inside of his jacket. He felt her cheek press against his chest and he kept her against him, longing to hold onto her for as long as he could.
…
James was excited to enrol into school. He had gone too long without learning and he was excited to go back. Tommy had told him that he could do whatever he wanted to after school and they would support him. Elizabeth had beamed as Tommy spoke the news. It was clearly her idea, but Tommy was willing to go along with it. Even then, he felt a specific affiliation for the boy.
He was trying on his new school uniform that Frances had collected for him. He was shifting awkwardly, not entirely used to the tie and blazer. Standing on the bottom step of the staircase, he let Frances roll up the trousers that were slightly too long on him.
"Hold still," Frances urged from the boy.
"Do yer think yer get used to the tie?" James wondered from her, tugging at it again.
She chuckled, still pinning the trouser legs. "I imagine so," she responded to him, trying to keep his spirits light. She didn't want him to worry about going to school. She knew he was excited, but she suspected there was also a sense of apprehension following him around too. She couldn't blame him for that.
There was a knock on the door after a few moments and Frances held a hand up. "Stay there," she urged from him, having not finished her pinning. She wandered to the door and pulled it open, eyes widening at the man in front of her. She bit her tongue for a second.
"Mr Mosley," she spoke. "I apologise, was Mr Shelby expecting you?"
"I would hardly drive out of my way here if I did not have a reason to," he responded to her and she once again chewed her cheek. "We have a meeting to discuss party business."
"He must be running late on his way from the office. Let me just call him…please…give me one minute, Mr Mosley."
Mosley let out a demeaning sigh and stepped into the foyer, closing the door as Frances scurried off to Tommy's office to get the number for the office and call it, needing to make sure he had set off. Mosley wandered around the foyer, noticing the small boy on the bottom step. James still dare not move, not wanting Frances to get annoyed.
"So…" Mosley drawled, "you must be the orphan."
"James, sir," he responded.
"James," he echoed his name. "And how are you liking your time with the Shelbys?"
"They're nice," he commented with a nod of his head. "They've been nice to take me in."
"I see," he responded with a slow nod of his head. "I only wonder how much longer they will keep you around…a boy of your age…with such an undesirable background…not exactly good for their image."
James let out a sigh, his face falling. "Mr Shelby said I could stay as long as I want…Mrs Shelby-"
"-But you will never be their child," Mosley interrupted. "You know that, don't you?"
James said nothing and Mosley chuckled.
"Well, Thomas has his daughter…his beloved little Charlotte. You know that you will never come close to her. You might live in their house…eat at their table…but you are not a Shelby. Shelbys stick together…it is best you learn that sooner rather than later. You need to pave your own way, my boy. Make something of yourself."
"Mr Mosley, I have been assured that they are on their way home. Would you care for a drink? You can waiting in the sitting room."
"Yes," Mosley said, looking away from James and moving into the sitting room.
…
Elizabeth insisted Tommy go and deal with Mosley as soon as they got home. She had kissed him on the cheek and told him she did not want to say hello. Frances met them in the hallway and had said that James had locked himself in his room for the past ten minutes, refusing to come out. Elizabeth frowned, wondering what was wrong before she urged Frances to take Charlotte to get something to eat.
Moving towards James's bedroom, Elizabeth knocked on the door and waited for him to answer. "James?" she tried again. "Are you okay, darling?"
There was no answer. She waited a second before the handle turned and he stood there, eyes red and cheeks blotchy. He had changed back into his normal attire of shirt and trousers. His school uniform was on the floor. He sniffed and Elizabeth took his shoulder into her hands.
"What is it?" she asked him.
"Nothin'," he said and Elizabeth frowned.
"You know that you don't have to lie to me," she said to him, moving into the bedroom and closing the door behind her. She went to perch on the edge of his bed as she manoeuvred him to sit down next to her. "Come on," she urged. "Just talk to me."
"It was…I am bein' silly," he muttered.
"I will be the judge of that," she said. "Now come on, talk to me."
He sniffed again and scratched his nose. "Will yer chuck me out?" he wondered from her. "I know I'm not a Shelby…I'm not family…and one day yer might not want me."
"What?" Elizabeth demanded from him. "James, what are you talking about?"
"It's just that Mr Mosley said that I would never one of yer and that means I would be better off makin' my own way, but I like yer…I like livin' 'ere…with yer and Charlotte and…and Mr Shelby…"
Mosley. Elizabeth felt anger surge through her at that piece of information. She moved quickly, wrapping her arms around the boy. James was shocked at the sudden embrace. She rested her chin on top of his head. "James, listen to me," she urged, pulling back and looking him in the eye. "You might not be family by blood, but I…I made a choice to help you…and…we might not know each other very well yet, but I care for you and I want you to be happy."
"So yer wouldn't throw me out?"
"Never," Elizabeth said to him. "You can stay as long as you want because I can guarantee you something, I will always want you. We will always want you…this place…it is your home if you want it to be and I really want you to want it to be."
"I do," James said.
"Good," Elizabeth said. "Now, don't listen to Mosley. He likes to cause trouble."
"I won't," he said.
"Okay," Elizabeth said. "Now come on, Charlotte has been asking if you wanted to go and help her collect conkers in the garden all the way home."
"I would," he said.
She smiled and took hold of him by the hand, quickly squeezing it. The two of them walked downstairs and she urged him off to go and talk to Charlotte. She stood outside the sitting room for a moment and prepared herself to go and give Oswald Mosley a piece of her mind.
….
A/N: Do let me know what you think!
