Chapter 30) Thinking outside the box
.-.-.
Maria would have been lying if she said she didn't miss being back at the stables. Ever since she failed to lead the Blinders towards capturing Russo, she'd been banned from the hospital. Although not directly, she'd simply been barked at by Polly to go help out in the stables since she was useless in Birmingham General. Apparently, Tommy didn't need a speaker there anymore and although she highly questioned that, she was more than happy to work with the horses again.
She'd only met Curly, her replacement, this morning but already she grew particularly fond of the babbling broad and bold fellow. She even dared to say that he knew more about horses then her brother and Tommy combined.
She also enjoyed listening to Charlie's folk stories about his ancestors.
She'd even missed his special hog stew.
For a whole week, her life seemed to be at ease; at least during the daytime. At night, she hardly slept, afraid to close her eyes. Since Russo's surprising and horrific murder, she and her mum and sisters were sent back to their own apartment. Her siblings and mother had been relieved to be back at home, but Maria's constant state of stress only grew. As strange as it seemed, the lack of guns and men able to use those firearms made it impossible for her to be fully at ease. Due to that and the nightmares combined, she hardly got any beauty sleep.
During her lunch break, she allowed herself to nod off under the sun, resting against the box of bourbon. The background sounds of the horses and scent of hay kept her in the present and made it possible to doze off a little.
Her mum acted as if she had found her long lost daughter, now that she came home every afternoon smelling like horses, sweat and dust. They didn't exchange a word about it, but Maria knew her mum was glad that she at least acted like her old self again. And to keep her mum from worrying, she happily played the role of the carefree, yet responsible, sister.
Her sisters were jealous of her for spending so much time on a 'farm' while they were forced to suffer in a classroom. To make up for that, she took the twins to the stables on a Saturday morning, introduced them to Curly and Charlie and let them brush the horses. It had felt like home, her real home and it struck her when she realized how much she missed her village.
It struck her even more when she realized she missed being at the hospital; the thought crossed her mind while she was sweeping Rockefeller's stable. She stopped for a moment, placed the broom against the wooded side of the box and wiped her forehead.
Curly sensed her halt, he paused his ongoing babbling about which saddle caused the horse less stress and instead piped up in that she should get some fresh air for a moment.
Appreciative of Curly's kindness, she thanked him and walked over to the dock. There were no new ships to be supplied with cargo -which meant no prying eyes of the sailors- so she felt at ease enough to swing her legs over the edge of the pier and stare out over the cut.
This was where it all began. She remembered the way she had to drag herself to Charlie's yard. Back then Small Heath scared her, it still did, but on another level. Maybe it was because she'd grown a little more confident and had gotten a little more street smart. And perhaps the fact that she belonged to the Peaky Blinders, made it a lot easier to keep her head up.
Maybe that was it.
She now belonged somewhere. It wasn't the place she'd pictured herself to be and it certainly wasn't with the right kind of people. But still, she belonged somewhere. She mattered and that gave her enough power to support and protect her mum and sisters.
She'd changed, she didn't think the Maria that came here the first day, would recognize her, inside and out.
Since she started working for the Peaky Blinders she didn't pray as much as she used to do. She hadn't been thankful for the house and hostility her uncle and aunt provided. She hadn't been thankful for their lousy meals and hateful comments.
She certainly hadn't been thankful for her new place in the world; being a working-class voiceless little git.
And for everything that happened in the event of getting the job of Tommy's stable lass, well, she'd worked for that herself. Hard. She'd learned to adapt to the cold and callous road her life pushed her upon and shaped her.
She'd changed, she needed too but she didn't like it. She wasn't thankful for her transformation; as her confidence grew her ideals seemed to decrease.
That's why she'd become reluctant to pray. What was the use? Everything good had been swept away and everything good that came after was because of herself. Of the fact that she knew sign language, kept all their dirty little secrets and did what she'd been ordered too.
Silently she threw a few rocks into the cut and wondered when her perfect little bubble would burst. It wouldn't take long before Tommy was fit enough to leave the hospital and when he did he'd need her back at his side.
She would miss her stable job, the horses, Charlie, Curly. She'd miss this mediocre life she always dreamed of. She didn't look down on the hard and simple labor but knew it wasn't in her future, not anymore.
What was her future? It was a question she didn't dare to think about. She'd be Tommy's speaker, placing herself in possible lines of fire. After Russo's ordeal, she was aware such awful things would remain part of her life. The brutality of men wouldn't necessarily be inflicted upon her; Tommy would make sure of that. But she'd witness more violence, pain, extortion and possible deaths. She wasn't naive, not anymore. She knew what Tommy was capable of, she'd seen it first-hand. He'd been at war, he'd murdered others. He didn't mind disfiguring others, like he'd done to her uncle. He didn't mind deliberately hurting others, even innocent bystanders. She'd seen it herself; he nearly smashed a lead pipe down upon a young man's face.
Her moral standards were deteriorating fast, because if someone asked her if she hated Tommy, she'd have to say no.
And maybe that is what scared her the most, because Tommy wasn't a good man. Looking at only a fraction of the list of his crimes would be enough to mark him as evil. And the fact that he didn't believe in God, went straight against everything she believed in.
Her father would have called him a devil; a gypsy devil on top of that. He was without a soul, a code, or moral compass. And if her father hadn't died, if she had still lived in her idyllic village, she would have agreed with her father a hundred percent and run off before ever crossing that Peaky Blinder devil's path.
Her entire upbringing and background told her to fear and shun everything she was doing. It was wrong to feel anything positive regarding her employers.
Her teeth chewed on her lower lip and her tongue registered the copper taste of blood, she'd ripped her lip open again.
Torn, it took her awhile to articulate that gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach. Torn, that was how she felt, her past moral compass battling with her newly found sympathy towards Tommy's twisted ways of life.
"Hey there stranger," Maria heard a familiar voice chirp nearby. Startled, she looked up towards Ada who gave her a toothy smile. Apparently, she'd been forgiven and Ada no longer gave her the silent treatment. That surprised her slightly, because the young woman had been awfully angry at her for keeping her mouth shut about what happened before Tommy crashed Russo's car into the hospital.
But clearly, she'd been forgiven because Ada sat down beside her.
"You look gloomy, girl, a penny for your thoughts," Ada joked, smoothing out her skirt.
Her thoughts were the last thing she wanted to share, definitely not with Tommy's sister. She risked a peek up and noticed Ada's prying eyes. She was going to let it go, so she shrugged.
"I'm just a little tired, that's all," she lied.
"Tired? I'd say bored," Ada filled in, "I'd get bored too, if I had to spend the entire day in uncle Charlie's yard knees deep in horse shit."
Maria didn't think it was wise to inform Ada that she actually loved every second of it and therefore kept her bloody lips tightly shut.
"Wanna go to the boxing ring? Do a little betting? Don't worry, I've got enough money for two," Ada assured her, tapping smugly at her small purse.
But Maria's reluctance towards the offer had nothing to do with money. First of all, she wanted to indulge herself with every minute she'd been granted to share with the horses. And second, the images of Tommy being beaten nearly to death were still too fresh. The thought of seeing men replicate the same action purely for the thrill and fun of it, made her feel ill to her stomach.
Ada must have sensed her hesitation and quickly raised another offer.
"The cinema then? I hear they're showing a new Chaplin film this afternoon, "Ada mentioned, "my date stood me up and I'm not going all by myself."
Ada made it quite clear that Maria didn't really had a choice in the matter, but she decided to make a last ditch effort.
"But what about my job? I'm not finished in the stables."
Ada raised her eyebrow, "you work for the Shelby's right? Well, I'm a bloody Shelby too and right now I need you as an acquaintance. So let's go." Ada jumped up and pulled on her sleeves, but then withdrew when she noticed the poor state of Maria's clothes, "but first we're going to rid you of these drags. Honestly, I don't want the entire cinema to smell like, well, you. You can borrow some of my things and we can act like posh girls again, it'll be fun. I promise!"
.-.-.
Arthur was visibly surprised to see his younger brother at the reception in a wheelchair wearing nothing more than his hospital gown.
"Tom, are you feeling alright?" His brother had leaned over him to ask in a startled whisper.
The clouded gaze he'd been able to maintain for the last couple of days at the reception cleared as he blinked his eyes.
Tommy had been taking Maria's words to heart: it's rather shocking how easily people forget you're there if you're spending hours and hours reading at the reception.
Once Tommy had been informed that he needed to remain in the hospital for another excruciatingly long week, he decided he was going to use that time the best way he could.
Oh and he did use his time spent at the reception well, extremely well.
At first, the nurses had been reluctant to leave him out of their care, but he politely wrote them a letter that he'd liked to be among people and felt well enough to sit and wheel around for a couple of hours.
He'd charmed the receptionist, with a few bats of his lashes and pleading blue eyes. She'd even brought him coffee and offered him cigarettes. Her name was Nancy, she was twenty three, was engaged. Her soon to be husband was an honorable doctor at the hospital and had served as a medic in the war. Steven, or Ste as she preferred to call him, gave her a chaste kiss every morning when he came in for work.
This information didn't seem like the information that would interest someone like Tommy Shelby, but the thing was, if you're mute and can't fucking stand long enough to take a damn piss, you start to notice all kinds of details.
Steve, or Ste, happened to have a tic. His left eye twitched and he always seemed in a rush and on alert when he came in to peck a quick kiss on his fiancée's cheek.
Ste had a habit hurrying off into the men's bathroom across the reception. Again, not something anyone else would notice. But Tommy did, he really didn't have anything else to do other than to listen and observe. In the wheelchair he didn't stand out, didn't strike any fear. Wearing his hospital gown was another part of his act, to cover up his gangster persona. Without his trademark flat cap and three piece suits, he was just another nameless faceless patient.
Invisible so to speak.
So, Ste would come out of the men's room with a relieved expression. And not the kind of relief people usually felt after leaving the men's room. And if someone wasn't paying attention to details, it wouldn't be noticeable that Ste's pupils were slightly dilated.
The highly respected doctor at Birmingham's General hospital was a junkie, now that was interesting. Now, every good law abiding citizen would report this.
But Tommy didn't fit that box, so he'd taken two more days to observe the young doctor repeat the routine. A kiss, a fix. He did it two days in a row. That was enough to make it a pattern and not just a thrill.
So on the third day, Tommy rolled his wheelchair towards the men's room right after breakfast.
Nancy's reception was still deserted, which was a good thing because the sweet girl would have called a nurse if she'd seen Tommy pushing his aching body up and staggering into the men's room. He spent the first few minutes recovering from the short walk, with his ass parked on a toilet seat with the door locked.
The concept of time was very distorted due to the fact he didn't have a watch, but the aching in his body told him his next fix for morphine wasn't far away. So it must be around eight.
Ste didn't fail Tommy's theory, he recognized the footsteps of the young doctor and to his delight Ste locked himself in the stall next to his.
Ste was in bad shape, cursing under his breath, fumbling to get his jacket off and eventually snorting and then sighing in relief.
Tommy shoved a pre-written letter across the floor and he could hear poor Ste gasp.
"How do you know?" The young man whispered shocked.
People have eyes, Tommy wrote in his notebook, and mouths as well. If you don't tell me where you get your fix I'm going straight to your supervisor.
The note wasn't received well. "That's blackmail!" Ste hissed aggravated and appalled.
True, but it's also your job. It's your call.
Ste took a tremendous amount of time to weigh out his options, so Tommy slipped him another note.
I just need to know where you get your fix. If you tell me, this conversation never took place and I won't say a word to anyone, he wrote down and clenched his jaw when he noticed the irony.
This note got Ste talking though: "the hospital has a pharmaceutical deal with a factory in Amsterdam. They deliver us our opiates and narcotics."
Is this legal? Tommy wrote, underlining the word legal.
"Of course it's legal, this is a hospital!" Ste grunted agitated. "The NCF has a permit to produce and sell all their products, as long as they sell it to big pharmaceutical customers."
NCF? Tommy scribbled down fast.
"The Nederlandsche Cocainefabriek," Ste answered fast, "it's a Dutch company stationed in Amsterdam. Listen, I don't know much about it, I just know the hospital gets a large part of their medical supplies from them. I don't know anything else; I'm just… using their products. It's not my fault though; did you serve in the war?"
Somme and Verdun, Tommy answered truthfully on paper.
For the first time since their conversation started, Ste's tone got a little softer. "Remember what the medics gave you if you were feeling beat? Forced March; that kept every man walking. Well, guess what the main ingredient is? And guess who produced that product."
Tommy felt his jaw drop, overwhelmed by the information Ste was forced to share. While Tommy let everything sink in, Ste coughed uneasily.
"Listen, I've told you everything I know. It's their fault I'm hooked. I'm a veteran like you, they doped me up the entire war to keep me going and now I'm barely getting by. I've got a missus and she's expecting. I can't lose my job, I can't lose her," his voice drifted off for a moment, "will you keep this a secret if I get you an address?"
Tommy tore out one of his notes saying yes and slipped it over along with his pen.
Eerste Schinkelstraat 30, Amsterdam.
And that note was the first thing he shoved in Arthur's hand as his brother sat down next to his wheelchair.
"Amsterdam? What's this address from Tom?"
This Arthur, is our possible new business partner, Tommy showed Arthur a prewritten note, what do you say about a small vacation to Amsterdam at the end of the month?
.-.-.
A/N Ok, so I had an entire storyline DONE. But, I had the feeling something was missing. I've created an AU of the Peaky Blinders and want to make them create a cocaine imperium. And it bugged me that I only use the Chinese for this. So 'Google is my best friend' and I had a little breakthrough. I'm a Dutchie and I'm happy to add a little bit of my own country into this story. It's sort of a black chapter in our history though. Because the NCF was a real thing. It was legal and completely corrupt, but again LEGAL. It's low profile, I hadn't heard of it up until yesterday and OMG I'm so excited to get into this part of history and ad it into my story, even the 'Forced March' thing, all true. Oh the Peaky Boys versus Amsterdam, gotta love that!
For all those readers who are waiting for SOME KIND of Romance, I didn't forget about that, we're getting close. I just need to change a few things in order to create a complete new storyline with the parts I've already written.
Yeah, wish me luck!
Xoxoxo Nukyster
