Four weeks later
Tommy was sitting at the table, watching his father eat the huge slab of meat on his plate. Despite the amount of money the head of the Shelby family had wasted on alcohol and whores this week alone, his subservient wife had made sure to serve him an expensive piece of meat with dinner. The rest of them had eaten bread and dripping. Tommy tried to ignore the growl in his stomach as the man before him shovelled the food into his mouth like an animal, gravy slopping down his chin messily.
"I heard that you got into a fight with Adam Welsh's son today," his father spoke, chugging back the cup of stout in his hand. He set the cup on the table and raised his cold eyes to his second oldest son finally.
Tommy said nothing. Around the table, Arthur averted his eyes while their pregnant mother sat at the table waiting nervously.
"From what I was told, young Peter Welsh gave you a right good seeing to. I was told that you just took it and didn't even try to fight back. Is it true?" Still Tommy made no move to acknowledge what was being said. He stood, straight as a pole and staring at the mirror on the wall behind his father's head. "Are you deaf, boy?"
Tommy's eyes flickered to his mother who was looking at him so sadly that it broke his heart. He could see the blame in those hazel orbs of hers. There was one reason that Tommy hadn't fought back and he was looking at that reason. He had promised his mother that he wouldn't get into fights anymore. So even when Peter Welsh and his friends had started saying nasty things about them being pikey scum, Tommy had kept his word.
"Don't look at her! I'm talking to you not that fucking bitch!" his dad roared, slamming his hand down on the table.
Ada burst into terrified tears and buried her face into their mother's side.
"Yes," Tommy swallowed thickly. "It's true."
His father clenched his jaw and pinched the bridge of his nose, and everyone held their breaths waiting for his next move. It came as no surprise when he leapt up from his chair and dragged Tommy up by the scruff of his collar. He threw Tommy onto the hard floor and swiftly began unbuckling his belt. His mother jumped up from her chair, reaching for her husband, begging him to stop. When his fist met her nose with a sickening crunch, she fell to the floor but quickly scrambled back up again.
"Please, don't hurt him," she sobbed.
"It's your fucking fault this has happened," he kicked her in the stomach. "Keep. Your. Fucking. Nose. Out." He punctuated every word with a kick to her face and body until she lay unable to move. Without even pausing for breath, his father towered over Tommy, the belt in his hand. "You like getting beaten up, do you? You like tarnishing the fucking Shelby name? This is my fucking family and what I say goes. Next time, you fight back. You hear me? You fucking fight back." And with that he brought the belt down upon Tommy's back. Again. Again. Tommy did nothing more than take it; his face contorted in agony. He knew it only enraged his father more. His father wanted him to cry and beg. Well, he fucking wouldn't. The leather bit into his skin over and over until he was certain he had no skin left. Eventually his father stopped, panting and sweating, staring down at his son with disgust. Without another word, he put his belt back on and left; no doubt off whoring or drinking while his children remained to deal with the bloody aftermath of his brutality.
"Hello, is there anyone in there?"
Tommy blinked. And again. Saoirse was in front of him looking at him with a curious expression. Her lips were moving but he couldn't make out what she was saying.
"What?" he croaked, frowning at her.
"Mr Jones will be here for his meeting with you in ten minutes," she smiled, dropping a file on his desk. "Are you back in the land of the living now? You were a bit lost then."
"Right," Tommy cleared his throat and pulled out his cigarette case. "Yeah, I was just thinking."
"Ooh, that's dangerous," Saoirse teased with a grin. "I wondered what the loud ticking noise was."
Usually, Tommy would have smiled at her gentle teasing. It was something he had grown fond of over the last few weeks. Their boss and employee relationship had slowly turned into a sort of friendship as well. She did her work efficiently, but she was always around to have a joke with as well. But he was still stuck in the past, where nothing was funny at all.
"Shall I send him straight in when he gets here?"
"Who?" Tommy furrowed his brow, rubbing his cigarette across his lips before settling it comfortably in one corner.
"Mr Jones," Saoirse rolled her eyes and tutted.
"Oh right, yeah," Tommy cleared his throat again. "Yeah, send him in."
She nodded and made a move to leave, but Tommy stopped her. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for a request of paperwork or a drink but when he reached into his desk drawer, she frowned at the small box he pulled out and handed to her.
"What's this?"
"Open it and see," he murmured. "I know your birthday was a couple of months ago now, but I couldn't find the right time to give it to you."
Saoirse was surprised and even more so when she opened the box to find a beautiful gold necklace inside. The chain was delicate and fine and hanging off it was a small, golden bumblebee with two tiny diamonds for eyes. Saoirse looked up, unable to form any words.
"You remind me of a bumblebee," Tommy explained. "The way you buzz around the office, humming to yourself and when I saw this it made me think of you straight away, so I bought it."
"Tommy," she chewed her lip as indecision washed through her. "I can't accept this."
"Of course you can," he frowned. "You can't refuse a birthday gift, albeit a late one."
"But it looks very expensive and-"
"-Saoirse," Tommy stopped her, his eyes warm upon hers. "Just say thank you and let that be the end of it. If I didn't want you to have it, I wouldn't have bought it, alright?"
"Alright," she nodded, her face breaking out into a smile as she looked down at the necklace once more. "It really is beautiful, Tommy, thank you."
"You're welcome," he nodded. "Now off you go and get the kettle on ready for Mr. Jones cos I'll guarantee he'll be parched the second he gets here."
With one last smile, Saoirse left, clutching the box tightly in her hand. It wasn't until she reached the tiny kitchenette that she burst into tears. She was completely overwhelmed by feelings that she just didn't understand. With shaking fingers, she put the necklace on, struggling a few times with the small clasp, before peering at herself in the small mirror above the sink. It was truly beautiful and the most extravagant gift she had ever been in receipt of in her entire life. She was trying not to think too much into the reasons behind her boss buying her a gift that must have cost quite a few pounds. She tried to tell herself that to a man with as much money as he had, the money he had spent on the necklace had undoubtedly been hardly anything worth thinking about to Tommy. Yes, that was most definitely it, because there was no way Tommy would spend what he thought was an expensive amount of money on an employee of just a few months. Would he?
The meeting was over in less than an hour, and when Tommy opened the office door to escort Mr Jones out, he found Arthur and John perched on either side of Saoirse's desk; the three of them chortling with their heads close together. After seeing Mr Jones out, Tommy paused at the scene of all the merriment with his eyes narrowed.
"Dare I ask?"
"I was just telling Saoirse and John here about the time you got your head stuck in the railings when Mum took us to the cemetery when it was great-Grandma's anniversary."
At that, Saoirse snorted and couldn't stop the giggle that escaped her throat. Perhaps it was the fact that it was her boss, or it was just the way that Arthur told the story, but she couldn't get the image out of her head. An eight-year-old Tommy, with his head stuck between the iron railings, unable to move until the fire brigade came to cut him free. Saoirse's uninhibited laughter soon had Arthur and John in fits of it again.
"I'll never forget the fucking look on your face, Tommy, when you realised you couldn't get your head back out again," Arthur was belly laughing, wiping at his eyes.
"What on earth possessed you to stick your head through the railing?" Saoirse asked him, her face pink from laughing so much. She snorted which sent John and Arthur howling once more when she clapped a hand over her mouth in embarrassment.
Tommy took one look at Saoirse' face and for a moment was struck by just how beautiful she was. She was always beautiful. It pained him to admit that she occupied his mind a lot more than she should have. He found himself watching her throughout the day; the way she scrunched up her nose when she was concentrating or the way she would gather up her hair and drape it over one shoulder when she was nervous. He found himself entranced by every little thing she did; but the thing that took his breath away the most was when she laughed. It was like music to his ears. It wasn't a gentle or delicate giggle. It was loud and full of mischief.
"Arthur bet me that I couldn't do it," Tommy grinned, unable to hold back his own amusement as thought back on that day. "So, of course, I had to prove him wrong."
"Well, that didn't exactly go to plan, did it?" John snorted.
"In my defence, I was young and stupid," Tommy shrugged. "I didn't think about the fact that my ears would get stuck when I tried to pull my head back out."
"No wonder they got stuck," Arthur stood up and pulled Tommy's ear playfully. "They're fucking huge, you ugly fucker. I'm surprised Mum managed to give birth to you with ears like those."
"Aw, leave his ears alone," Saoirse spoke before she realised, pouting at Arthur in mock upset. "I think they're perfectly lovely ears."
"See," Tommy tilted his head at Arthur. "Saoirse thinks my ears are lovely."
"What about my ears, Saoirse?" John leant back so his head was on the desk, and he fluttered his eyelashes up playfully at the secretary.
"Yours are lovely too, John," she grinned, pinching his nose.. "Now would you kindly remove yourself from my desk before the amount of grease in your hair ruins all my paperwork."
Arthur guffawed loudly as John sat up with a pretend sulk on. "Come on, brother," he slung an arm around John's shoulder. "We've got work to do."
"I'm glad you remembered," Tommy eyed them drolly, a hint of amusement playing on his face. "Now stop distracting my secretary, will you?"
"She's just so much fun to distract though," John commented.
"Distract her on your own time, then."
"I would, if she would agree to come out for a drink with us," John pulled on his hat. "But she's always rushing off home instead."
"Perhaps she doesn't want to be seen out in public with you, John," Tommy raised an eyebrow at the younger man. "Can't say I blame her. Now go on, disappear, eh?"
"Alright, I know when I'm not wanted," John shook his head, before winking at Saoirse. "See ya later, Saoirse."
"Bye sweetheart," Arthur slapped a sloppy, wet kiss to her cheek garnering another chuckle from her.
"So, I've got perfectly lovely ears, eh?" Tommy murmured, sitting down on the desk and taking a drag of his cigarette once his brothers had left.
"Oh, shut up," Saoirse blushed, biting her lip to stop herself from smiling. Tommy swallowed at that simple action. She didn't even realise the effect she had on him. His eyes drifted to her slender neck and he tried to quell the warmth in his chest at seeing the necklace there.
"Is that any way to speak to your boss?" Tommy tutted. "But it's alright because you can get yourself back into my good books quite easily."
"Oh yeah?" Saoirse smirked.
"Mm-hmm," Tommy nodded. "I've got some delicate paperwork that needs sorting for tomorrow. There's quite a lot of it and if you stay late tonight, I'll be willing to pay you double your usual hourly rate."
"So, you're going to pay me double to get into your good books again? Who can refuse an offer like that?"
"What can I say?" Tommy grinned. "I'm a very generous boss."
Saoirse grinned back and took a sip of her tea, her warm eyes meeting Tommy's over the rim. "I'll need to let Joe know I won't be home until late."
And just like that, the fizzle between them popped at the mention of that bastard's name. Tommy stood up and nodded curtly.
"I'll have Finn get a message to him," Tommy informed her curtly. "Just write down whatever you need and I'll make sure it gets there."
"Thank you," Saoirse gave a wobbly smile, confused by the abrupt change in Tommy's mood.
She should have been used to it by now; it was a normal occurrence. Perhaps if she was a little more observant she would have realised that it usually always came down to some sort of mention of her boyfriend.
As Tommy disappeared into his office, the door slamming shut behind him, Saoirse took out a piece of paper to write Joe a note. Things with him had been much improved lately, and true to his word, he hadn't so much as laid a finger in anger on Saoirse since the day he had split her lip open. His touches were only ones of love, and only when she wanted them. He had been sweet and kind, bringing her little presents home on the nights he worked late. Everything had gone back to normal. So why was it that she found herself unable to let go of the doubt inside her mind? Why was it that she couldn't quite allow herself to behave as she had before? Sure, on the surface she smiled and kissed him, but deep down inside of her it felt hollow. She wanted desperately to forgive him; to let go of the inner grudge she gripped tight hold of yet for some inexplicable reason she couldn't. She found herself on her guard around him; nervous to say the wrong thing in case it set him off. Nervous that she would say the wrong thing that would bring about that cold look in his eyes and make him use his strength against her. It was an exhausting facade to keep up, not only around Joe but also around others as well.
She knew that the Shelbys had an inkling as to the truth of her facial injuries that day, but not one of them had openly said it, instead, they looked at her with sadness or concern. Polly constantly asked if she was alright and other vaguely direct questions. Arthur, bless his soul, had bonded with her in such a way that he would constantly remind her that family wasn't necessarily blood, and therefore, she was family now. For the girl with no family of her own, it meant everything; but even the girl with no family knew that in front of them her facade couldn't crumble. Smile and pretend everything was just fine. Just smile.
She had a feeling Joe wouldn't be happy that she was working late and with such short notice, so she made sure to promise to make it up to him. She promised that they would spend the next evening together and go to the pictures and for dinner. A few weeks ago, she would have tried to make it up to him in a different way, but that had changed. For some reason, whenever Saoirse and Joe were intimate, it just didn't feel the same. She found herself internally cringing and no matter how much effort Joe put into making her feel good, she never found her release. Not that Joe had commented on it. Perhaps he hadn't noticed. Every time it happened, Saoirse told herself that it was just because she needed to build up that trust with him again and it wouldn't happen overnight.
Saoirse licked her fingers; unaware of cerulean eyes watching her actions intently. It was six o'clock and Tommy had sent Finn to the chip shop to get some dinner for him and Saoirse while they worked after delivering a message to the BSA for Joe. Tommy most likely would have worked without eating, but he wouldn't expect that of his secretary.
"What?" Saoirse looked up and met Tommy's gaze with a furrowed brow.
"Nothing," Tommy shook his head. "It's just I've never seen someone picking at the scraps like that."
"You are joking, right?" she frowned, scraping up the crispy chip scraps on the newspaper. "They're the best bit."
"If you say so," Tommy pulled an unconvinced face.
"Tommy Shelby, I'm disappointed in you," Saoirse sighed and shook her head disapprovingly. "But if you're not having the rest of yours then would it be completely rude of me to commandeer them?"
"Be my guest," he smirked, sliding his newspaper cone over to her side of the desk.
"Well, isn't this cosy?" a voice said from the open doorway.
Saoirse looked up at Joe and plastered a smile on her face. A smile that wobbled slightly when she saw the venomous look in his eye.
"I thought you were meant to be workin'?" he walked towards her, his eyes flickering momentarily at Tommy who did nothing more than lean back in his chair coolly.
"Well, yeah we are," Saoirse nodded, wiping her hands on her skirt. "But we were just having some dinner."
"Oh, right," Joe pulled a face.
"That is ok, isn't it?" Saoirse probed, tilting her head slightly as she stood up.
"Of course it is, darlin'," Joe smiled, cupping her cheek gently. "You don't need to ask my permission, do you?"
"No, no, I know that," she said, letting out an internal sigh of relief that she hadn't upset him. "I just realised that I've left you without anything for your dinner and I'm here stuffing my face with chips."
"I'm a grown man. I think I can cook myself some dinner, love," he smirked. "But I do need the key to get into the flat cos I left mine at home this mornin'."
"Oh, right," Saoirse nodded. "I'll just go and get it for you now. My bag's in the other room, I won't be a minute."
As she disappeared, the two men eyed each other, not feeling the need to hide their dislike for the other now they were alone.
"I don't know what game you're playin' at pal, but it won't work," Joe hissed.
"What do you mean?" Tommy smirked, lifting his cigarette to his lips.
"Don't act dumb with me," Joe spat. "I know what kind of a man you are."
"See, that's funny," Tommy waved his cigarette at Joe. "I'm a bad man, but I've never put my hands on a woman I claim to love."
"What happens in my house is my business and not yours."
"That's where you're wrong. I make everything in this city my business."
"Listen to me, you fuckin' dirty pikey, you stop whatever it is you're doin' with her and you won't have to worry about watchin' your back, will you?"
"Is that a threat, Mr. Eddison?" Tommy leaned forward, his eyes ice cold on Joe's. "I don't do too well with threats. Unlike that girl out there, I always fight back."
"Got them," Saoirse's chirpy voice prevented Joe from launching himself across the desk and wiping that smug look off Tommy's face. "They were buried at the bottom of my bag, but I found them eventually." She looked between the two of them, unable to miss the obvious tension. "Is everything alright in here?"
"Fine," Joe stretched a tight smile across his face. "Mr. Shelby and I were just having a little chat is all."
"And I look forward to continuing it another time, Mr. Eddison."
"Likewise. Well, I'd best be off," Joe turned his attention to Saoirse and kissed her soundly on the lips, pulling her close and holding her tight even as he felt her trying to push away. Watching the display that was obviously for his benefit, Tommy clenched his jaw and tried to ignore the jealousy and unbridled anger swirling around his body. When Joe eventually let go of Saoirse, she stumbled back and put a hand to her lips, her cheeks blushing with embarrassment.
"See you later, beautiful," Joe said. "Oh, and darlin'? I wouldn't be eatin' too many of those there chips else you'll be complainin' that your clothes don't fit, won't you? I noticed you already had to take out that grey dress of yours. Good job you're handy with a needle and thread, eh?"
Saoirse opened her mouth and closed it again, not really knowing exactly how to respond to that comment. As Joe's footsteps disappeared, she sat down in her chair once again and stared at papers in front of her. She blinked as the words began to blur but she refused to cry. Not in front of Tommy, and most certainly not because of Joe. She just didn't understand what would possess him to say such a horrid thing and in front of another person; and not just any person but her boss of all people. Clearing her throat, Saoirse excused herself under the premise of going to the washroom and when she returned a few minutes later, Tommy did his best to pretend he couldn't see the red under her eyes.
"Right, shall we crack on then?" she smiled brightly. But it was too bright. It was the same bright smile his mother used to plaster on her face when she was desperate to prove to herself and everyone else that she was fine.
Tommy hated feeling helpless, and that's exactly how he felt about this whole situation. When he had first gone to Polly about the cut on Saoirse's lip all those weeks ago, he and his brother had been ready to give the man a taste of his own medicine and more, but Polly had correctly, and rather annoyingly, pointed out that if they did that the only ran the risk of Joe and Saoirse fleeing. At least if they kept an eye out for the foreseeable future, they could monitor the situation and gain her trust, and as it had turned out, they had yet to see a single mark on her since. But neither Polly nor Tommy had been completely convinced that was the end of it. A man like that didn't just hit a woman once, and as Tommy himself had witnessed both today and in the pub, Joe wasn't averse to talking down to her in public. So how would he talk to her when they were alone? Tommy was unable to focus on the papers before him. His mind was ticking like a wound-up clock, until he couldn't stand it any longer.
"What exactly do you fucking see in him?"
Saoirse looked up and just frowned at him.
"Joe?" he clarified. "Why are you with him?"
"I- I don't think that's really any of your business," she sputtered.
"Humour me."
Saoirse shook her head and was at a total loss for words. "You know what? I think I should go. I'll come back early in the morning and finish this off and you don't even have to pay me."
Pushing back from her chair, she scrambled towards the door, ignoring the papers that slipped from the table after her. But Tommy somehow managed to reach the doorway a split second before her and essentially blocked her way out.
"I asked you a question."
Saoirse looked up and found herself suddenly afraid. Tommy must have seen it in her eyes because his face immediately softened.
"I'm sorry," he sighed. "It's just, I don't understand it. You could have your pick of men, yet you're happy to lump yourself with him."
"Like I said, it's none of your business," Saoirse answered quietly. "But, if you really want to know, then I'm with him because he's kind and sweet and he loves me."
Tommy let out a dry laugh. "I didn't think you were stupid, Saoirse."
"Don't you dare talk to me like that," she glowered.
He lifted his hand and Saoirse jerked backwards without thinking.
"I would never hurt you," he murmured, running the back of his hand gently down her cheek; imploring her to believe him. Her eyes held a panicked look, like a wild animal about to dart, but when he cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb across her mouth, he watched as her pupils dilated and she let out the smallest gasp.
Tommy couldn't help himself. He had to taste her. Bending his head, he ghosted his lips over hers. He waited for her to pull back, slap him, shove him, but what she did came as a surprise to her as well as him. She wound her arms around his neck and leaned into the kiss, moaning when he licked at her lips; opening her mouth to allow him in. Their tongues merged and when Tommy pulled her close against him, she could feel the hardness of his desire against her. Of their own accord, her hips writhed against his and they both groaned at the friction it created. Then it hit her like a bucket of ice-cold water. She was engaged to someone else. Pushing against his chest, she shoved Tommy away with all might.
"Saoirse," Tommy started.
"Don't," she held up a hand to silence. "That was a mistake."
"Don't say that."
"How can I say anything different?" she cried. "I have a fiancé who I love and who loves me. I shouldn't have kissed you back. I'm tired and not thinking straight. I need to go."
"You kissed me back because you were tired?" Tommy let out a laugh. "And that wetness that I know is between your legs right now, is that because of tiredness as well? Hmm?"
Without thinking, Saoirse reached up and slapped him across the face. It was a rash outlet for the confusion swirling around inside her, and she regretted it almost instantly. But before Tommy could react, she ran. And he let her.