Chapter 19) Working-class hero
.-.-.
Number six of Watery Lane had never been under so much pressure and lack of personal space.
The four newcomers weren't welcome by half of the Shelby's, Polly, Arthur, and John. The other half, Tommy, Ada, and Finn were trying to keep the peace and keep everyone out of each other's hair. But in a household with barely enough space for six people, ten was a clear overkill, it was a beehive and a fucking nightmare.
Tommy's bedroom was fully occupied with the four women, sheets, blankets, and pillows filling up every inch of the floor. The mum, Dotty used the bed and her three daughters slept on the floor huddled together like a litter of pups.
There was only one bathroom and one toilet in the house. Within the first twelve hours it caused Arthur to have a heart attack and the twin girls to be scarred for life when the oldest of the Shelby brother's waltzed into the bathroom butt naked while the twins where brushing their teeth.
The sound that two sets of lungs could produce in the early morning was enough to awaken the entire household and have John and Tommy jump into direct action, guns ready to be used.
The sight of a grown shouting naked man and two alarmed gunmen was enough reason for the twins to cry their little hearts out.
Brighter than the most vibrant red, Maria retrieved her two siblings and took them back to their borrowed bedroom and did her absolute best to ignore Arthur's obvious showing manhood.
This was only the first clash of the families.
Finn, suddenly not the youngest of the house, felt victorious and keen on 'brothering' the two girls. His two new playmates were very happy to borrow his toys and were in awe with every word he told. Finn, being flattered by all the admiration, turned into an absolute blabbermouth.
Overconfident he bragged about all the weapons laying around the house and how his family thought he didn't know where they hid them. Of course, the next step was a thrilling game of hide and seek until Finn pulled a handgun from a hollowed out book. With the two girls marveling at his treasure Finn showed how a man should handle a gun. Well, at least how he thought a man should handle a gun, because either Polly or his brother's would smack him on the back of his head every time he even dared to glance at a fire weapon.
May wanted to hold the gun, but April was the oldest by fifteen minutes and both girls tried to snatch the gun from Finn, bickering with each other like only sisters can.
As a result the gun went off, a bullet shot right through the living room window and just like the other morning, three alarmed Shelby brother's rushed into action to find two crying girls, a smoking gun and a mortified Finn.
The three musketeers were sent into the yard, all with a print of Arthur's palm throbbing on the back of their scalp.
So far the four newcomers were two strikes behind.
.-.-.
"Tom, they need to get the hell out of our house, before someone dies or gets murdered by me!" Arthur spat at Tommy who'd failed to find his matchbox. Throwing an agitated glare at his older brother, he yanked his cigarette from between his lips and threw it on the kitchen counter. God, he'd pay a bloody fortune to shout.
Instead he flipped through his notebook and tapped his finger down on a circled ok and pulled open a draw in desperate search for a light.
When Arthur failed to receive any other form of answer from his brother, he cursed and marched out of the door announcing he was going out for a drink before he would cogitate a bloody murder. Polly, overhearing Arthur's outburst rushed by to accompany him and threw Tommy the evil eye.
He. Needed. A. Fucking. Smoke.
Slamming the fucking draw shut without a fucking sign of the fucking matchbox he fought the urge to just throw the towel in the ring and get piss drunk with his horses. At least his calm animals wouldn't be bickering and meddling and fucking doubting every fucking step he was making. Polly had been the one who'd practically begged him to return to Watery Lane and hold Arthur's fucking hand to keep their business from becoming a sinking ship.
He single handedly mapped out a plan, took action, tried his best to keep his sanity and his nerves under control and for what? A fucking headache and a lost box of matches.
Well, then he was getting a drink. That was the only plus side of Watery Lane at this very moment, there was always enough booze to get by.
Pouring one of Polly's favorite porcelain cups full of Whiskey -to spite her- he parked his arse down to sit at their kitchen table, as a the gentleman he was.
A gentleman who was drinking whiskey from a tea cup at half past seven in the fucking morning, who, he thought, hadn't had any sleep or a decent shave in the last seventy two hours. Or a bath, or a proper meal or a fulfilling fuck.
But the morning could only turn worse as Maria and her sisters shyly trottered into the kitchen. The twins, holding their arms firmly behind their backs, eyed their big sister who had her arms crossed tight against her chest and nudged her head towards Tommy.
"We are very sorry, sir," the left girl muttered softly unable to look up from the tips of her toes.
"We'd like to apologize," the right girl piped in and moved her hands from behind her back.
A bouquet of tamped down wild flowers appeared, wrapped with a string of hemp rope.
Startled, Tommy eyed the flowers and then moved his eyes to the young girls and then to Maria, who'd nervously stared back at him.
"We're very sorry!" The first girl repeated and showed her bundle of flowers, mangled daisies and dandelions from their yard.
It was a sweet gesture, enough to clear the bolt of anger feasting inside his stomach. He brought his right hand near his lips and with a flat hand moved forward, a bit down in the direction of the twins. It was the sign for thank you.
Again the two girls seemed startled and the right one cautiously whispered to the other. "He's just like mum."
Maria visually shrunk and smacked her sister on the back of her head for being so rude and stared at him, afraid of his reaction.
It took him a very deep sigh and the content of Polly's cherished porcelain to respond back to the girls without ripping his hair out.
No, I'm not. I can hear, but I can't speak, he signed to the girls and it was strangely comforting that the pair of them were able to understand him directly.
"Are you born that way, like my mum?" the left girl asked boldy and rather intrigued.
No, I hurt my head when I fought in the war, Tommy responded without going into the more horrific details.
His information sank in and he received a puzzled look. "So, you can't talk. But can you whistle?" the left girl asked fascinated.
"Or growl, like a bear?" her sister questioned curious.
"Alright, enough! April, May, to your room and don't come out until I say so!" Maria spat agitated and dragged both girls roughandly towards the stairs.
Remorsefully she retreated back into the kitchen with two bouquets of trampled flowers.
Maybe if you give your sisters a penny they can make me do a trick next time, Tommy told her coldy, may I have your attention boys and girls, the circus is in town!
"I am so sorry!" Maria exclaimed embarrassed and dumbed the flowers in the sink, "please forgive my sisters they are always so… so…"
Forthcoming? Bratty? Blunt?
"Yes, all of that," Maira moaned and hid her face inside her palms, "Gosh, what must you think of my family."
They have an amazing resemblance with mine to be honest; exebistunistic, armed and triggerhappy, Tommy informed her blunt furrowing his brows.
Maria bit her lip and anxiously asked, "Are you planning to throw us out?"
Tommy sipped from his second cup of whiskey and shook his head. I made you a promise, didn't I? Swallowing the strong beverage, he place the porcelain back on the saucer. But you can't stay here, I think you will agree with that. Can't have your noble Christian heart living here with Arthur swinging his dick in the hallway every morning.
Seeing her blush made a small grin grown on his lips, and he wickedly winked at her. I'll get you your own place, I've already got something in mind, but before I can move your lot over I'll have to do a little inspection with Arthur. Usually he'd ask John to come along, but let's say his younger brother was dealing with other urgent businesses. One that kept one happy girl's legs spread and hopefully opened up a door to their next step up.
And then we need to clear the place up. With clearing the place up, Tommy meant throwing its current residents out, but she didn't need to know that. Two blocks from here lived a married couple, the man owned them a great amount of money he'd gambled away at their boxing rings.
It wasn't much, a cheap two bedroom flat on the second floor. But it was nearby and in one of the safer areas of Small Heath. Plus a few of his more trustworthy members lived in the same building and would be able to keep an eye open and throw in a fist if it was needed.
Until then, be so kind to stay on everyone's good side, in case you've missed all the angry glares and death threats, some members of my family don't want you here.
"I understand, I'm sorry my sisters got everyone so alarmed," Maria muttered embarrassed.
Twice, although Finn had a big share in that, Tommy added and lazely stretched his arms above his head and cracked his neck. Fuck, sleeping -well lack of it- on the couch was costing him his back.
"Is there anything else I can do?" Maria asked.
Tommy twirled his stretched arms around the kitchen, Find me my fucking matches.
The girl nodded and diligently started a search for his matchbox. Pulling the drawer open Tommy was ready to inform her the box wasn't there, he already checked but before his hands could sign the first word Maria pulled out his matches.
What sorcery is this? Tommy wondered as she handed him his lost item. Staring dully at the cardboard box he took his cigarette from the table and lit it.
So, what's the mystery behind your sister's names, April and May? He signed after welcoming the most wanted nicotine inside his lungs.
"April was born on the 30th of April, just before midnight. May was born fifteen minutes later on the 1st of May. It's very unique for a twin to be born on a different day, maybe even a first." Maria shared with a hint of prideness. Then her stomach started to growl and her pride disappeared as snow did in the sun.
In response Tommy reached back to snatch an argil jar from the pantry. The contents of biscuits made Maria's mouth water and as politely as she could, started shoving cookies down her throat.
Meanwhile, Tommy started to write down a note for her, Fetch your family something to eat and let the kids roam in the yard, it'll keep 'em from tearing up the house. Take Finn along and ask him for his marbles, he loves to be all posh about them and he's likely to share. He's a good kid. Better than his brother's, Tommy thought and moved his notebook over the table. Maria read it while crunching her cookies and whipped her mouth free from crumbs.
"I will," she said, pushing back his notebook and gave him a lingering look. "I don't think I've said it before, but thank you. I'm well aware this is all part of our deal, but thank you so much, for everything."
Tommy blinked a few times, suddenly self conscious of all his tender gestures. Right now, the chaotic household reminded him firmly of the tension embedded all throughout his childhood.
When he was young he'd always been the mediator between his parents and siblings. He'd jumped in between if his father was at his mother's throat. He'd been the reassuring shoulder for Ada and John. And the quiet consoler for Arthur when his older brother's strong shoulders weren't strong enough to carry the burden of being the split image of his father.
From the moment the four women stepped into their household he'd instinctively taken on his childhood roles and suddenly wondered if it had been wise to show the newcomers so much of his good-heartedness.
Deliberately he threw her a stoic glance and waved her off. Later when she took the children outside he purposely threw the bouquets of wildflowers in the trash for all their eyes to see. Although his conscience ached he knew he had to show them that the infamous Tommy Shelby didn't have a soft spot. Because softness equaled weakness and he couldn't afford to be weak.
.-.-.
Arthur wasn't too thrilled to do another 'house makeover', but when he learned that evicting two poor sods from their apartment meant having Watery Lane to themselves again, he was most eager to help with the eviction. Tommy made it very clear to spare most of the furniture and keep the windows and doors from breaking.
It took many tears but not so much time to throw the poor husband and wife out of their house with nothing more than a suitcase full of their belongings.
Arthur took the liberty to announce to all bystanders that this was what would happen to anyone who didn't pay their debts to the Peaky fucking Blinders. Tommy was proud of his older brother's harsly spoken words, from time to time people needed to be shown how powerful they where, it kept them on their toes and that made it easier to maintain ownership of their city.
The apartment needed a good scrubbing, some proper pots and pans and a few more beds but other then that it was livable as long as you didn't expect any luxury. But compared to the Pratt's this was a castle and even better, a fortress of security.
"Doing an awfully lot of charity work, Tom," Arthur grumbled when a set of strong men lifted beds and mattresses up the narrow stairway, "don't you think you're overdoing it?"
It'll pay off, he informed his brother with a note and pointed to the man which apartment to bring the bedding to, walking with Arthur over the balustrade. Go and inform the people about their new neighbors, make it very clear who they are and who's protecting them.
Arthur marched off to bang on some doors and Tommy crossed his arms proudly staring at the fixing up apartment. Lighting a cigarette he stepped inside, checked how far the men where with building the bunk bed and ran his arm over the fabric of the shabby sofa. Someone had to sleep on the couch, the second bedroom was barely big enough for one bed, but that wasn't his problem. Honestly this entire place wouldn't cost him a penny but he'd gain a very loyal worker, simply because he'd be holding all the cards.
Her house, her family and their safety.
With a smug grin on his face he walked back outside, amused about how Arthur was terrorizing the neighbours.
.-.-.
It was late and quiet, Tommy labeled it as his favorite time of the day now that he and his relatives weren't on one line. Polly was all about ignoring him and slamming doors, John kept whining about being secluded, Ada had to remind him every goddamn minute how wonderful it was to have another teenage girl around and well, Finn and the twins made so much noise...the entire fucking day. The only one that wasn't bothering was Dotty, the mother, she still appeared to be questioning his kind motives although she didn't press anything. The mum mostly remained in Tommy's bedroom, trying to keep her young girls out of trouble.
Maria joined him at the kitchen table, still dead set on pleasing him and his family in every possible way. When he came back from his inspection and announced they'd be moving into their new apartment the very next day she'd been in awe. She'd been making tea, peeled potatoes, offering Polly to help with cooking and humbly run off when she'd been told to mind her own goddamn business.
Right now she was stitching Tommy's razor blade firmly back in between it's peak. It was something Tommy could easily do himself, but since she was so focussed on staying on his good side -and because he had a absolute dislike toward needlework- he'd handed it over.
Tell me, how did you survive a week on your own in the streets of Small Heath? Tommy signed to her casually.
Maria bit through a thin thread and picked up a needle. "I saved up some of my fee and sew it in my bucket hat. That money kept me off the streets for a few days, I stayed in an motel because I honestly didn't know where to rent a safe room in this city. I overheard two young ladies in the hallways share how much money they were making at The Shepard," she rolled her eyes, "I know now that those girls were just heading back from being with a client. I asked the girls if I could come along. They asked if I was a hard worker and if I had any experience, I honestly thought they were talking about being a waitress!" Maria said defencive when Tommy snorted amused. "So I bluffed, said I'd been working at clubs for years and had much experience, - again, with taking orders and serving drinks!" She added when Tommy tapped the ash off his cigarette and grinned.
"Russo hired me on the spot, told me I'd be safe and could rent a cheap room at his club for some extra service. I honestly didn't think he meant having sex with clients, I thought he meant cleaning the toilets, mobbing the floors or something."
Oh her naivety was going to be the death of her, Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose and didn't dare to think of what would have happened to her if he hadn't showed up with Arthur.
So how many nights have you been working for Russo before I dragged your out of his club?
"It was my first night," Maria confessed, "oh, I dropped so many glasses and I've never poured an alcoholic drink my entire life."
Well then, let me enlighten your existence, Tommy signed humoured picking up a bottle of Merlot from the floor, a leftover from yesterday's victory. He pointed to a cabinet and ordered her to take two glasses and pulled the cork from the expensive wine.
"I'm not sure I should be drinking," Maria murmured reluctant but poured in two glasses without much finnes.
Nonsense, you have plenty of reasons to be drinking, Tommy informed her, tipped his glass against hers and took a sip. His dislike for Merlot still didn't win from the sweet taste of yesterday's survival and content he sat back scratching the back of his head.
The scars on his scalp quickly brought him back from his high and one glance at the girl made him aware that she noticed.
Hurry up, he ordered and motioned to his cap. Maria retreated back to her duty and left him alone to deal with his demons.
Have you always been good with needles and thread? Tommy signed when she handed him his flat cap for inspection, she'd neatly hid the tiny weapon, the razorblade was just a shimmer.
"My mum is better, I've learned everything from her. She used to make all our clothes and had a lot of orders from our locals. She can make suits, trousers and even made her own wedding dress," Maria babbled, fingers toying around her glass. "It's a shame no-one wants to hire her really, I bet she's better than most."
Tommy combed his fingers through his hair and placed his hat back, relieved to feel the familiar fabric conceal his most obvious weakness. She noticed the softening in his bearing too but quickly dodged his gaze and placed her needle and thread back in Polly's sewing kit.
Tomorrow morning, I'll show you your new home. You have the weekend to settle. Monday we'll be having a meeting with the Red Dragon.
"Red dragon?" Maria questioned nervously.
Let's say Johnny-boy shagged us a way inside the Chinese market, Tommy signed and continued. I expect you to look well rested and presentable. Even more important you won't be asking questions and if I ever have the slightest idea who've been rattling too much with that blabbering mouth of yours to anyone, I'll have you and your family back on the streets. Do I make myself clear?
"I won't tell anyone about anything," Maria promised with a tiny voice.
Good girl, now off to bed, you'll have a busy day tomorrow, Tommy informed her very aware of the filthy state her new apartment was in. But again, not his problem as long as the place didn't get riddled with lice and flees. Besides, he already got most of their furniture set up and a little scrubbing would do them good, let them remember their place, they were working-class after all.
.-.-.
I absolutely loved writing about the clash of families, I could see it all happening. What I also like is that I gave Tommy a clearer reason to be an cold asshole at times. He mistakes kindness for weakness and I think because of his head trauma and losing his voice he's been feeling weak and therefore feels the need to keep up a calloused mask. To keep himself standing. He's going to be a tough cookie to break and it will be a thrill to try, because I love hurt/comfort and Tommy is the perfect candidate.
Again many thanks to Comet96 for doing a wonderful job as my beta-reader,
Xoxox Nukyster
