.-.-.
As they traded in the murky streets of Small Heath for untamed meadow; grasslands with wildflowers, Tommy suddenly hit the brakes and stopped the car near an ancient oak tree.
Maria threw her car door open and stumbled out and decorated the daisies and dandelions with her breakfast.
"Why couldn't we take the horses?" She stammered half accusing half desperate, holding her stomach while being crouched down on her knees.
Because we're half a day behind, Tommy signed while walking around the pile of her sour breakfast. He took out his flask, handed it over and watched how Maria's eyes screwed shut as the whiskey burned her tongue, ridding the taste of bile from her mouth.
"Behind on what, can you please just tell me where we're going?" Maria pleaded weakly, taking another tiny swig of the whiskey.
H-u-d-d-e-r-s-f-i-e-l-d, Tommy finger spelled, retrieving his flask and putting it back inside his inside pocket, Zilpha Lee is settling there for a fair, he explained when Maria gave him a confused look. Johnny Dogs had informed him of Zilpha's whereabouts and also pressed that the woman's fury was relentless, she'd maul him to pieces like a mad dog.
I intend to buy back the Wolverhampton's from her, Tommy continued when Maria remained her clueless look, I need her alliance and I need a place for storage.
"Ah," Maria responded still unable of seeing the bigger picture, "and how long will it take to get there?"
Half a day, if we're lucky, Tommy signed dejectedly as he realised they hadn't been on the road for more than fifteen minutes. Maria moaned in anguish from the grassy floor.
Tommy groaned and lit a cigarette. His act-fast-think-later plan couldn't afford a hitch and Maria's car sickness was one major step back he hadn't thought of.
The way he saw it, he had two options, because going back empty handed was out of the question. The first one would be to constantly stop every few minutes until the point that his speaker threw up her heart, liver and lungs.
Option two might even be a little more unorthodox. When he finished his cigarette and Maria managed to stand back on her legs, he grabbed her wrist and placed the car keys in the palm of her hand.
You're going to drive, he signed when she openly stared up from the keys to him.
"But I can't drive."
One's never too old to learn, besides I've taught Finn too, you'll do fine.
.-.-.
Although Maria was fully aware that even the slightest damage to the car would probably cost two years of her salary, she did enjoy driving. Not just because everything beat suffering through hours and hours from car sickness, she honestly liked being in control of a ridiculous amount of horsepower.
At first she'd wondered if Tommy's suicidal tendencies had gotten the best of him, as he ushered her in to take the driver's seat. Then it dawned on her that Tommy was unable to properly communicate while driving the car. He would preferably die than acknowledge his clear disadvantage, so Maria did not address the matter.
For the first two and a half hour, the engine roared as she miserably failed to shift into the right gear. It also included a near crash into a tree trunk and a lot of abrupt stops and jerking starts.
But now that she was getting the hang of it, she dared to sink into the soft leather.
If you go any slower, we might travel back in time, Tommy commented petulant after stretching his neck and massaging a sore muscle.
"That'll be good, we might recover your manners," Maria slipped out before she could stop herself. Awfully aware that she had verbally scorned her employer, her eyes cautiously zigzagged from the bumpy road to the passenger seat. Tommy met hers with a stoic frown, although his lips slipped into a bemused half grin. He tolerated her banter with a scoff and occupied himself with lighting a cigarette.
Maria was surprised to feel an unfamiliar pinch of hunger, a feeling she could only address as physical cravings. Ever since Ada pressured her into smoking her first cigarette, her taste for nicotine grew and being in a constant state of stress made her long for the small relieve, hidden inside the little cardboard package. It made her all jittery and snappy without them, as if the wrapped tobacco was some magical safety pin that could clasp all her fears tightly together and keep them from being exposed.
The anxious drumming of her fingertips on the steering wheel must have given her away, because Tommy took one last drag and held out his cigarette.
"Thanks," she muttered, ashamed that her growing addiction was so obvious. Tommy grunted in acknowledgment and started ruffling through a stack of papers until he pulled out a map.
The landscape changed gradually, trading the meadows for woodlands. The line of trees grew thicker, the sun breaking through the cracks, shallowly flickering upon the road ahead.
For a moment, Maria was granted some ease from the turmoil she left at home. Until Tommy's head snapped up from the map and ushered her to stop the car.
There is another car coming, he informed her and quickly yanked his car door open, we need to change seats!
Before she could protest Tommy slammed her door open and ushered her to get out. Nearly tripping over her own feet, she jumped out of the car. It was then that Tommy grunted agitatedly, alerting her to look around.
The car Tommy heard coming was one of the coppers and it was heading straight towards their direction. Tommy looked her dead in the eyes as he signed: I've got two thousand pounds in cash, three flour bags of cocaine with a street value of at least three hundred pounds, in the back of the car; he then pulled open his coat, and two unregistered guns.
"And we're no longer in Birmingham," Maria added gravely aware that the oncoming car could only mean trouble. Tommy swiftly took out one of the guns and held it out for her.
"I don't want it!" Maria gasped mortified, "I'm not going to shoot, I can't even shoot!" her eyes narrowed as she stared up from the weapon to Tommy, "you're not planning on murdering them, are you?"
The complete lack of emotion in Tommy's piercing blue eyes was enough of an answer, if they leave me no choice, he signed after storing the gun back in the holster.
"Tommy please don't-" Maria tried but the police car slowed down when it drove by the suspicious strangers and then stopped.
Two law enforcers stepped out of the vehicle. The first was an older bloke, with a receding hairline. The pompous salt and pepper beard made up for it though. The brusque policeman snapped at his much younger colleague to 'fix his bloody uniform', with the youngster obediently doing so.
Maria could hear the blood rushing through her ears, if those coppers were foolish enough to ask tough questions or open their trunk, this whole scene could turn into a bloodbath. One of which she'd never been able to wash her hands from, because in contrast to Russo, these two men were innocent, simply doing their job.
The familiar sensation of needing to vomit was climbing up her throat. But for once, her subconscious urge to desecrate the inside of her stomach might be their salvation.
Before the bearded copper could even finish his first question, Maria gathered all her willpower and managed to throw up all over the man's leather boots.
"I'm sorry, t-terribly sorry!" She stammered while hunching down to hold her aching stomach, "I'm with child, I keep getting sick!"
The bearded copper cursed out loud and started frantically wiping off his preciously polished boots on the tall grass.
The youngster secretly seemed to enjoy his partner's dread and rubbed over Maria's back, "no worries, got a missus like that at home, just let it all out."
Thankful for the kind words and the continues lack of cold blooded homicide, Maria spat out bile and tried to stand back up.
"Ain't they a handful, ha mate?" The youngster asked jokily to Tommy who seemed to be rooted to the forest floor.
When Tommy failed to respond with words, Maria quickly muttered: "my husband is a victim of war, he can't speak and he hasn't been alright in the head ever since he got back," she added before the copper could become suspicious, "he's a hero though, been granted a medal for bravery by the king himself."
The youngster whistled impressed and took off his helmet, providing Tommy with a clear headshot.
"I was too young to fight for the king, bless you and your lass sir," the youngster said sincerely, "now we don't want to keep you up, but this route is scattered with smugglers and bandits, so we just do a routine search, then we'll be out of your way."
Completely oblivious of the immense danger lurking around the corner, the youngster moved closer to their car, just a few feet away from a small illegal fortune.
For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The bearded copper was still fully occupied by ridden his footwear from the last bit of Maria's breakfast. The youngster took another step directly towards the trunk of their car and Tommy's hand reflexively reached underneath the hem of his jacket.
Thinking fast, Maria's mind could only find one solution, more distraction.
Sinking back on her knees, she swiftly tore the sewed-in razorblade from her bucket hat, drew up her skirt and pressed the sharp blade into the soft flesh of her inner thigh.
Crying out from the sharp pain, she dropped the blade on to the forest floor and shifted some leaves over it. With her hands spattered with blood, she reached up and cried out some more.
The sight of a pregnant, bleeding woman was enough to alert all three of the men.
"Oh my gosh, the baby!" Maria wept, feeling warm drops of blood trickle down into her Mary-Janes. The sharp pain searing from the cut made it very easy to squeeze a few credible tears from her eyes.
It took the men longer then she'd expected to jump into action. 'Sure,' she thought, 'being a bunch of damn animals to each other is a piece of cake, but witnessing the dark side of motherhood makes them squeamish'.
Tommy was the first to rush by her side, noticeably concerned by the sudden sign of blood.
"I've cut myself," Maria hissed in his ear when she drew her arm around his neck, clutching her stomach with her bloody hand, "thought a small bit of mine is considerable better then two pools of theirs."
The burning hard stare from Tommy was not intimidating her. It should have and it would have not so long ago. But things had changed and right now she was saving his skin by cutting her own. If he'd liked to think that he could boss and push her around that was fine, but if he thought she'd simply allow him to murder two innocent men in cold blood, he was a fool.
He must have noticed the change too, because when he lifted her off her feet and pushed them passed the two coppers, Maria could read a silent sorry from his lips.
For a moment, Maria bathed in gratification, but realisation immediately struck her as the youngster tried to lift her skirt up after Tommy lifted her down on the passenger side.
Her little theatrical act was far from ending because the highlight of the show was still yet to come; delivering a non-existing baby.
Bewildered, Maria slapped the helpful hands away and cried out: "I want a doctor, a real doctor!"
And before she knew it, the two coppers were informing Tommy about a local midwife and promising them an official escort towards her.
"No worries miss, we'll make sure you'll be taken care of," the youngster promised, reassuring her as he closed Maria's door shut.
In the meantime, Tommy had jumped into his seat behind the wheel and unceremoniously yanked her skirt up when the two coppers dashed into their automobile. Reflexively, Maria jerked her knees firmly together only to hiss and plant her front teeth in her lower lip, due to the wound burning between her legs.
"It hurts!" She exclaimed, risking a peek to see how blood seeped out of the deep fresh cut she'd created.
Tommy acted cool and pragmatically, fetching a somewhat clean rag and his flask. Dousing the fabric with the content of the flask, he then pushed it into her shaking hand, turned it palm down and in one fast motion, he pushed her hand holding the rag down onto the seeping wound.
The pain tore through Maria like a great shard of glass. For a moment, all her senses numbed because her body was fully occupied trying to cope with the pain.
Even her mind was foggy, as her ears detected an animalistic howl which took her a moment to register as her own.
If the coppers had doubted the seriousness of the unlucky mother to be, her crying out bloody murder would have fanished it.
Familiar nausea crept up from her abdomen to her head and for a moment the world went black.
Maria vividly remembered how one of the actresses fainted in a movie she'd seen with Ada. The whole act had been an example of delicate femininity, yet when Maria regained consciousness, she found out that reality was far from it.
She felt sick and recalled tumbling forwards like a sack of potatoes, hitting her face on the dashboard. Her chin took the hardest hit and would probably have a nasty bruise in the near future from the blunt collision and the cut on her thigh still felt as if a rat was slowly gnawing it's way in.
Maria, still blinking the black dots away, suddenly realised they were driving, that Tommy still had his hand firmly pressed between her legs to make sure there was enough pressure on the wound and that the coppers kept their words; giving them safe travel towards a gifted midwife.
An unfamiliar lump had formed in her throat as her fingers intertwined with his. His skin felt like sandpaper, rough, yet warm and comforting.
Tommy looked sharply up from the wheel; his eyes fixated on her lap and then apologetically met hers, as if it just dawned on him how the act might come across.
But she held his hand in place, because she honestly did not want to be the one in charge of the mess she'd made. The alcohol might do miracles sterilizing the wound, but the scorching sensation caused by it was enough to send her into another black out. Her eyes already registered the faint color of red seeping up through the rag and she knew that if it weren't for Tommy's hand, she'd be seeing an awful lot more.
"Am I going to bleed to death?" She'd dared to question with a hoarse and fragile voice.
Tommy mechanically turned his head from side to side, using the motion to watch the road.
Maria cursed the bleak position the both of them were in. Tommy was cut off from every form of communication, having one hand on the wheel and one hand tightly pressing down on her inner thigh. And Maria was rapidly losing her mind.
As blood started to form between her legs and ran down onto the leather seat, Maria started to feel lightheaded again. The mere sight of the red substance scared her beyond words and reasoning. She had no idea how deep she'd cut, or how much blood a person could lose before it became lethal.
When familiar callous hands slapped her awake, Maria's eyes rolled from side to side, partly to become familiar with her surroundings and to rid herself from the black dots that blurred her vision. She noticed how the scenery had changed from a thick forest to a depressive, desolate ghost town. The houses lacked all forms of care and maintenance; like wooded fossils, a last desecrated memory of the place it must have been.
There was commotion around her; she was able to detect three different voices. Two came from the coppers; one was from a woman that sounded incredibly impatient and lispy.
Maria wasn't granted any time to cry out for help. Tommy resolutely pushed passed the two meddling policemen, yanked her car door open and lifted her up.
"Get on, get on!" an old woman cackled and in spite of her age, lead the odd group towards one of the houses.
Maria's heart sank when Tommy passed the doorstep. Dim light coming from a crackling fireplace provided just enough light to show the hazardous living conditions. And the toothless old woman who introduced herself as Addy the midwife, looked as if she should have one foot in the grave. Although she'd needed a cane for support she was able to use the wooden stick to swoop every item of her tiny diner table to the floor, providing a clear space for her patient.
Tommy did not need instructions and before she knew it, Maria was placed onto the table, ready for display.
Addy did not care about the three sets of male eyes when she yanked Maria's skirt up to examine the state of the pregnancy. But when her beady eyes found the source of the blood she rapidly drew Maria's clothes back down.
With wonky arthritic fingers, she beat against Tommy's chest.
"Leave, t'tis women's business," she declared and stomped her wooden cane into the direction of the police men, "t's a bad omen ta have menfolk in here!"
Maria's already deteriorated hope for a successful escape hit an absolute low; "Tommy, don't leave me with that woman," she whispered tucking her fingers frightfully around his collar as she stared around the room. A unique collection of animal bones, trinkets and herbs took most of the space on the shelves and walls, "I think she's a witch!"
Something flashed beneath the surface of Tommy's hardened expression and for a moment Maria swore she'd noticed a hint of amusement flicker in his eyes and if that was true it was most satisfying to watch him jerk his head out of the way of the elderly woman's cane.
"Move!" the midwife shouted impatient, spitting out a mouthful of chewed tobacco.
As the old woman ushered the coppers out, Tommy pushed Maria back onto the table as she tried to flee the scene too.
Stay, let the old hag have a look, he signed to her when she angrily yanked her shoulders loose, you don't want an infection down there, he added now unable to disguise his amusement.
"OUT!" The elderly lady shouted at the top of her lungs, swinging her stick like a bat with enough force to knock the last bit of sanity out of Tommy's fractured skull.
Dodging another whack to the face, Tommy got up with a straightened back and exited the dingy house, leaving Maria with the alleged witch.
The midwife slammed the door shut, loudly cursing with such vile phrases; it made Ada's sailor curses sound like angel chanting.
Pushing her patient's legs apart to study the damage, she snorted and spat on the floor. Eyeing the frightened young woman from head, to bleeding cut, to toe, she pressed her thin lips into an even thinner line.
"Now, before I patten ye up, what the bloody hell is going on?"
.-.-.
Although this chapter took me forever to write, it was very entertaining. I'm not planning on abandoning this story, it's simply because I lack the time to write. I've got a little ritual before I can get myself to write, which includes being ALONE, listen to a special Speechless playlist and have about a billion taps open. But fear not, I had about one and a half hours of writing time yesterday and was able to scribble down 2 pages of the next chapter.
Thanks for sticking by me and the story, please be so kind to leave some feedback.
Xoxox Nukyster
