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XXI
CARVED IN STONE
Olivia Francine Westerling
January 2nd, 1900
March 28th, 1932
An icy blast shook the branches of the cypress trees and scuttled relentlessly under his coat. Tommy adjusted the garment and, holding the cigarette between his lips, lit the lighter. The orange flame burned the tobacco and he took a long drag before turning his full attention back to the headstone in front of him.
The gray granite was austere and solemn. The letters and numbers were carved in the stone, giving it a more refined look than other graves around it, and then he knew there was no way the Westerlings could have afforded that detail: Olivia's headstone had been bought by someone else. A Shelby.
If he still didn't know the truth, Tommy would have wondered which of his relatives had gone to such trouble, but at that point it no longer mattered whether it had been Michael, Polly, or Ada. Who was lying under that headstone was not Olivia.
"Who are we waiting for?", Ada's breath caught in the air. The afternoon was beginning to fall in that London cemetery.
"You'll see".
The terse reply caused his sister to move somewhat troubled. She had agreed to accompany him to London on the promise he abandon the idea of going to New York, at least until he finished reading Olivia's diaries, and with every second that passed, Tommy sensed that Ada wanted to run away from there.
"How you did it?", Suddenly, Tommy had the urge to ask that question. He saw Ada confused and forced himself to explain. "How did you manage to bury Gina in Olivia's grave without anyone noticing? And at what bloody moment did Gina come back to England?"
He remembered very well the last time he had seen Gina alive. The situation had been unfortunate and to date, Tommy had no explanation for his behavior. He was a monster, just as he had told Olivia, and he was not ashamed of how much he wanted to kill that woman. That's why Tommy himself didn't understand what the fuck had happened to him when he pointed a gun at Gina and suddenly decided that it was best to let her go.
"I don't want to see you in this fucking country again", he had told her. "In an hour, a car will come and will take you to Liverpool. There, you'll get on the first ship you see. I don't care if it's to the continent, Africa, America, or fucking hell. I want you away from my family, my business and Olivia. Next time, I won't have any kind of considerations".
A victim of terror, Gina had nodded frantically, and according to Johnny Dogs —who had been the one to take her to Liverpool— his cousin's wife had made it to the port safely.
She boarded the ship. She left. Soon after, Michael went after her with the pathetic excuse of redeeming himself to Tommy. In New York, Michael had murdered her but, for some reason, Gina's body was under his feet, in London.
"Gina never left England". Ada revealed the first loose end. Tommy closed his eyes in a fit of anger: one more thing that had been hidden from him. "Neither did Michael at the time".
"Of course". Tommy cursed under his breath. "Anything else I need to know, Ada?" he asked, taking another drag.
"There are a lot of things you have no idea about, Thomas", his sister said. "Regarding Gina, I can tell you that she, in addition to the fact that she never left this country, died much later than we believed. Imagine my surprise when Polly told me that instead of Olivia we would bury Gina". The sarcasm in her tone of voice was mixed with something akin to resentment.
Tommy watched Ada out of the corner of his eye. He sometimes found himself so absorbed in his own spite that he didn't take into account that Ada had also been lied to and until now they —Polly and Michael— had hidden from her the location of her best friend. He couldn't imagine Ada's reaction when Polly and Michael brought her up to speed, even if it was only twenty-four hours after the lie was made. Yes, Tommy loved Olivia, but Ada did too and had known her long before he did, possessing then the right to have a greater resentment.
But for some reason she didn't feel resenment. The reasons why Olivia had disappeared seemed to be justified enough that Ada understood them and she had decided to be part of the lie.
"Burying Gina in Olivia's grave wasn't easy". Her sister had the eyes on the tombstone. "We had to…". Suddenly, she stopped herself and looked off into the distance, frowning. "Tom, is that Andrew Fairfax over there?"
He turned and looked where his sister was looking. He recognized Andrew Fairfax walking among the graves, calmly; the black overcoat flapped in the wind and, realizing that Tommy had already seen him, he removed his hat. Tommy saw Andrew's jaw tighten when he noticed that Ada was with him.
"Wait, was he who we were waiting for?"" Ada asked in a low voice.
"Yes", Tommy agreed.
"You're not thinking of telling him the truth, are you?", Ada wanted to know anxiously. "Tom, please don't do it", she said. As he did not respond and Fairfax moved even closer, Ada was forced to raise her voice. "Tom?!"
"Good afternoon, Mr. Fairfax", Tommy said, holding out his hand.
"Mr. Shelby". They shook hands formally, as they had done a couple of weeks ago at the pub. "Ada", Fairfax greeted Tommy's sister with a slight nod.
"'Mrs. Thorne', for you", Ada corrected through clenched teeth and crossed her arms in annoyance.
Tommy wasted no time. Ignoring the embarrassing situation, he caught Fairfax's attention and pointed to the headstone in front of them with the hand with which he held the cigarette.
"For this I have summoned you here today, Mr. Fairfax".
Fairfax looked at the granite and both Tommy and Ada noticed his reaction. They both witnessed how his eyes grew dim and the anguish showed on his face. Tommy heard Ada snort, surely outraged by Fairfax's attitude, which, like he had happened to him at the pub, looked so fake.
"She's dead", Fairfax said, as if he was trying to convince himself.
"Yes, she is". Tommy noticed her sister's gaze on top of him, and when he allowed himself to scan her for a split second, he recognized her expression as bewilderment and uneasiness. "And it's your fault", he said to Fairfax.
"What are you saying?", Fairfax questioned, offended but still in pain.
"After we met at the pub, I made my way to the Westerling family house, just as we had discussed", Tommy recounted. "There I managed to get hold of some of Olivia's diaries and discovered that, indeed, she had burned all the incriminating documentation about you". He witnessed Fairfax sigh, as if suddenly feeling calm. "But she wrote about it". Fairfax looked nervous again. "You lied to me, Mr. Fairfax, but that's not what bothers me. What bothers me is that you endangered the woman I loved and that's why she's here today, underground, and not by my side".
"Tommy...", Ada called out to him softly, with some concern. Apparently, she didn't want to put Fairfax up to date but she didn't seem to agree with the particular revenge her brother was carrying out.
"It means that..."
"It means it wasn't the fascists who killed Olivia, as we originally thought", Tommy interrupted the other man. "The Communists killed her in revenge for what you did by selling your party information to Mosley's people".
"Thomas, that's enough!", Ada exclaimed. She was angry and Tommy knew that, beyond the lie, she hated that he was generating political fights as a result of the Olivia's 'death'.
"They'll pay for it", Fairfax muttered through tear-filled eyes.
"Who?", asked Tommy.
"The Communists".
"I'll take care of that". Tommy tossed the cigarette butt at Fairfax's feet. "You better focus on finding a new job and a new life". He rejoiced at how shocked Fairfax suddlenly was. "I've spoken with people in my party and we have come to the conclusion that we don't want traitors in it: you are no longer part of the Labour Party. Regarding your wife..."
"My wife? What about my wife?", Fairfax's eyes widened, terrified at the sudden mention of her.
"Your father-in-law, Lord Ramsey, wasn't amused to learn of your ties to fascism". Tommy shrugged. "He's going to ask for the marriage annulment and, according to what he told me, his granddaughter will be in his care until she is of legal will never see your daughter again, Mr. Fairfax".
Andrew Fairfax lunged at him just as Ada gasped. They both fell to the damp grass, and in the fall Tommy felt his ribs, still lacerated, cause a stabbing pain in his side. Fairfax sat on him and, with the blonde locks on his face, made a gesture of giving him a punch.
Tommy knew the bastard was going to react like that to the loss of his hard-earned status, and that was why he had filled the magazine of his gun with bullets.
He received the first punch and felt every bone in his skull shake. Before Fairfax had a chance to lash out at him again, he searched, as best he could, for the gun in the shoulder holster. The moment he got hold of it, Tommy saw that the blond man who was attacking him received a kick to the face from Ada and, perplexed, watched as Fairfax fell to one side.
"Stop it, you idiots!", Ada cried out. "Do you think this is the right way to behave in front of Olivia's grave?!" Apparently she had decided to adhere to the lie if it meant ending the brawl. Ada went to Tommy to help him to his feet.
Fairfax was still on the ground, writhing and clutching his nose, which was gushing blood. It was very likely that Ada had broken his partition with her heel.
"What the fuck do you get out of this, Shelby?", whimpering, Fairfax talked. "You know I sacrificed my relationship with Olivia to have what you take out of me today. Does that make you feel better? Does it change the fact that she's still dead?". Tommy didn't know if he was crying because of pain or sadness.
"What I get is to sink you into the shit hole you should never have gotten out of". Tommy spat and saw that there was blood in his saliva. The punch hadn't knocked out any teeth but made him bite his tongue. "You used her. You hurt her. You made her suffer. Wherever she is, I know she is thanking me".
Tommy smiled knowing he had managed to get revenge on Fairfax by carrying the weight of Olivia's fictitious death on his shoulders and by taking away all the power and the profitable fucking marriage from him. Ada squeezed his arm and Tommy knew that, out of nowhere, he had her support.
"When you summoned me, I thought you were going to tell me that she wasn't dead. I was suspicious when I learned that we would meet in a cemetery and when I saw Ada next to you, all my fears came true". Fairfax struggled to his feet. "If you had told me that Olivia was still alive, I wouldn't have doubted it for a second: I would have been the one who gave up my position and my marriage. And I would have looked for her. And I would have found her". Fairfax's face was full of blood and his eyes were red from crying. "I still love her. I can't stop loving her, and that you take everything away from me so easily lets me know that I lost her in vain".
"You fucking liar...", Ada insulted him.
"I could be a coward but never a liar, Ada". Fairfax shook his overcoat, which was littered with grass and dry leaves. "I loved her and she loved me. That's the only truth".
Andrew Fairfax turned his back on them and walked away from them, leaving behind Olivia's fake grave in which he believed his love lay. Tommy spit blood again and put the gun away, somehow regretting not using it.
"It wasn't necessary to do all this", Ada scolded him. "Olivia won't give a shit about Andrew's regret".
"Maybe she won't, but if I'm honest, I did it more for myself than for her", Tommy confessed.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I hate that man for the simple fact of existing; for being an advantageous and a toady. For having used a Olivia in that way and walking so enthusiastically through life".
"He won't be walking around so entyhusastically anymore, I assure you", Ada said with some concern. "Well, what now? It's a little late to go back to Birmingham", she changed the subject.
"We will leave for Birmingham tomorrow morning. Now, we have to go somewhere else".
"God, where else?", Ada looked at him questioningly.
"When I was here in London a couple of weeks ago, I made a promise to Jane Westerling", Tommy saw his sister raise an eyebrow. "I told her that the next time I came to this city, I would go have tea with her and her husband, and that you would come with me".
"Tom…", Ada was shaking her head.
"The poor woman misses you".
"I know, but I won't be able to lie to Olivia's parents once more. No, Tom. Don't do this".
"Then you'll have to tell them the truth". He saw her sister pinch her brow in frustration. "Ada, if you were able to tell me that Olivia was alive, what's stopping you from telling them? Olivia's their only child left alive and they don't know that. Do you think they deserve all this crap?"
"Of course they don't deserve it," Ada sighed, "but they'll want to know the reasons why her daughter left and even you don't know about them".
"I'll walk away when you decide to tell them," Tommy said. He really wanted to know the whole story but he had assimilated, for better or for worse, that he and his personality could only know it through the diaries.
"Would you do that?", his sister was surprised by the complacent attitude.
"Yes. Mrs. Westerling is devastated and she needs to know that Olivia isn't dead, even if that means I have to give in".
"God", Ada looked between surprised and scared. "Thomas Shelby giving in, what kind of miracle is this?", she asked sarcastically.
Tommy reached for the notebook he carried in the inside pocket of his coat and to Ada's astonishment, he opened it.
"There are no miracles", he said. "Only consequences".
/
July 1st, 1931.
After what happened last Saturday, I decided to take a week off with the excuse that I wasn't in good health. Although it's true that my panic attacks have increased in intensity since my meeting with Gina, my absence from work was due more to the fear that I had to see that woman or her husband again than to the fact that, since then, I have not even been able to feed myself well.
Needless to say, Ada was concerned when I told her how unfortunate my condition was and insisted on taking me to a doctor, but I refused. My tolerance to laudanum only knows to increase and each time I need a larger dose to calm my nerves. I don't want to end up generating a dependency and I would like to be able to heal by myself, although I see it difficult.
Now more than ever.
It was two in the afternoon and I was tidying up my closet while I listened to the record player, in order to distract my mind. I had the window open since it was hot and the music spread throughout the house diminishing my loneliness and keeping me company. I had tried to write but the frustration caused by seeing my poem 'Born to lose' unfinished, prevented me from starting any new work.
Apparently it was then that Thomas knocked on the door. I didn't hear it at the time and continued folding my dresses, humming an old song that Ada and I used to listen to when we both lived in London. The music coming from my window told Thomas that I was there.
"Ollie."
Hearing Thomas's voice at my window made me jump and I was even more scared when I saw him clinging to the frame, unaware of the height.
"Tom!" I exclaimed and ran to help him in. "What are you doing here? Have you climbed?"
"I knocked on the door several times but you didn't hear me. I tried to open with my key but Ada changed the lock at some point", he explained. "Are you alone?"
"Yes, I'm alone", I agreed, hugging the garment I had been folding.
"How do you feel?"
"Better", I lied, and pretended to focus on the task again.
"What's happening to you?" I saw Thomas frown. "Ada told me that you spend the whole day in bed, that you hardly ever eat and she has seen you several times with your face flushed from crying".
"You know, Tommy. It's my nerves". I smiled and shrugged, wanting to downplay it.
"Have you vomited?", he asked suddenly and rushed to speak. "Is there any chance that you are... pregnant?"
I don't know what face I put at the time but it must have been quite a show. Thomas was genuinely concerned and he had asked the question almost fearfully. He was waiting anxiously for my answer, his eyes fixed on me and particularly pale. I never would have imagined that the greatest fear of a man like him was fatherhood.
"No, I'm not", I said, and Thomas allowed himself to blink, relaxed. "But what happened in May's estate wasn't right, Tom. You know perfectly well that I could have gotten pregnant just the same, even if you had… cum outside me", I blushed at the memory.
"Next time we'll be careful, Ollie", Thomas said and leaned closer, as if my words had ignited something in him. He kissed my cheek. "I wonder when that next time will be".
I hugged him and he responded to my hug. With my chest close to his, I felt his heartbeat and resting my head on his shoulder I began to cry. At first, I did it in such a sneaky way that Thomas didn't notice, but when the crying became so incessant that it caused something like a spasm in me, it became evident.
"Ollie?", Thomas pushed me away to look at my face "What's wrong?".
"I just...", I sniffed through my nose, "I can't believe you're alive".
The memory of the assassination attempt was intrinsically related to Gina and Oswald Mosley. My three biggest fears were in front of me in that moment and for a second, I felt like I was gasping for air. Panic was taking over my body again.
"It wasn't that bad", Thomas tried to calm me down and cupped my face in his hands.
"You vanished into my arms", I said. It annoyed me that he downplayed something that had been so terrifying to me. "I thought you had died. You have no idea what it's like to see someone bleed out on your lap with their breathing getting weaker and weaker", I said through tears.
"I do have an idea, Ollie. I've been through that", Thomas said, and I was shocked. In his eyes I noticed a hint of sadness and that caught my attention. "And unfortunately, the bullet that person received went straight to their heart. They didn't have the opportunity to utter words and was not even conscious for more than two minutes".
"Who are you talking about?" I had to ask, although his eyes had already given me the answer.
Thomas released me and fixed his attention on a point on the ground, as if the mere reminiscence stirred an unbearable accumulation of feelings in him. He licked his lips and closed his lids for a couple of seconds as I watched him inhale and exhale, flustered.
"Grace".
I put my hands to my chest when I felt my heart squeeze, victim of anguish. I couldn't help but feel guilty for dragging Thomas back to that ghastly memory while, at the same time, idiotic as it may sound, I regretted making Grace reappear in his memory, even though deep down I knew that she would never leave that place.
I now knew that Grace Shelby had not only been murdered as a result of her husband's business, but that she had also died in his arms. The scene seemed horrific to me and I couldn't put magnitude to what Thomas must have felt at that moment. I understood then that the parallels regarding Grace's murder could have led Thomas to pronounce her name when he was in a similar situation.
"So that's why..." I whispered and, obviously, Thomas heard me.
"What?", he asked.
"Nothing". Shaking my head, I tried to avoid having to explain myself. But it was too late.
As was the case every time Grace's ghost showed up, Thomas was insistent and almost suspicious.
"What is it, Olivia?", he demanded to know with a tone of voice that to my ears sounded distant. I was no longer 'Ollie'. I was 'Olivia', plain and simple.
"Before you lost consciousness, you apologized to me but you called me by her name", I explained as quickly as I could, as if trying to get out of that situation as soon as possible.
"Did I call you 'Grace'?", Thomas narrowed his eyes.
"Yes", I said and tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, I felt I must add something else. "I don't know if it was a simple confusion or if, for a moment, you believed I was her".
I swallowed hard and realized I wanted to cry again. Since then, I had been trying to camouflage the fact that it hurt me that Thomas called me by the name of his late wife, but apparently the wound was still there, in my heart. Thomas's recovery, Gina's attack, and my conversation with Michael had served to distract me but had failed to erase the strange feeling of resentment.
Now I can say it: when Thomas called me "Grace", I hated him so much. I felt used and insignificant. I thought I was an idiot. But these feelings seemed unjustified to me: Thomas had already told me that he still loved Grace and I had resolved to stay by his side, why, suddenly, it offended me so much if the only culprit was me?
"I don't remember what happened", Thomas said. He looked somewhat embarrassed. "I don't know if I just got confused with the names or if I saw Grace's face in yours. What I must confess is that sometimes I see Grace".
"What?". The last sentence set off all my alarms.
"Sometimes I see her and she talks to me". He stroked his forehead. "I know it is a hallucination caused by laudanum but I can't deny that I have come to drink it simply to see her". Thomas waited for me to say something but I didn't know what to say. I was dumbfounded. "Seven years have passed but I miss her like the first day".
"I see", I forced myself to say and begged him to shut up. Every word that man spoke was a stab in my chest.
"Interestingly, Grace appeared to me recently, when I was in the hospital recovering from the shot. She talked me about you", he snapped, and once again waited for me.
So far, I can't figure out what the hell Thomas wanted me to say. I couldn't believe he was waiting for me to show interest in the insane conversations he was having with the hallucination of his dead wife, a woman I detested more and more with every passing second.
"You should quit laudanum, Tom", I suggested. If he got off the opioid, then Grace would stop appearing.
"Grace told me you were a good woman", he ignored me and brought me up to speed on what Grace had told him as if doing such a thing would make me feel sympathy for her.
"Tell her I appreciate her words". It was pathetic for me to have to see myself expressing that. Thomas and I looked like a couple of insane and maybe we were.
I saw him chuckling under his breath as he got the cigarette case. At that very moment, the record that had been playing came to an end and the music stopped. We were both surrounded by an awkward silence that I didn't bother to break. I was hurt and upset, and at the same time, immensely worried.
"I'm sorry, Ollie", out of nowhere, Thomas apologized. "I know I must apologize for calling you 'Grace'. After all, you were the one who was staining your dress with my blood and taking care of me. I'm a jerk, but you already know that.
"I don't think you're a jerk, Thomas", I corrected him. "I think you need to seek help".
"What kind of help?", he asked and shrugged. "Are you going to send me to one of those 'therapists' that Michael has told me so much about?"
"It wouldn't be a bad idea..."
"By the looks of it, you see in me what everyone else sees", he interrupted, and I noticed something akin to disappointment on his face. "You think I'm crazy".
"I don't think you're crazy but I do think you have a problem with opium", I defended myself. I wasn't going to let Thomas draw his own conclusions.
"You know? Opium is the only thing keeping me at bay". He let the tobacco smoke escape from his lungs. "The only thing that keeps my fucking head from blowing off. The only thing that allows me to sleep and the only thing that makes Grace come to me, so real that it seems as if she never died". Stunned, I watched him return to the window frame and pretend to leave. "You want me to forget about Grace, do you? I'm sorry, Olivia, but that won't happen. With or without laudanum, Grace lives in me. She's part of me. And neither you nor anyone else will make me forget about her".
Thomas left, and I flopped onto the edge of the bed, my pulse racing and my legs shaking. It took me a minute or two to burst into tears as I refused to accept everything that had happened, everything that he had told me. Like a delusion, I believed that the moment I told him that he had called me Grace, he would feel sorry for me and tell me that it had been a mistake. God only knows how wrong I was.
I was aware that he was the most complex man I had ever encountered in my life, the most disturbed, the most dangerous. Dangerous to himself more than to anyone else.
I never imagined that the first discussion I would have with Thomas would be so cold, devoid of feelings and at the same time so hurtful. I was out of place and immensely hurt, but as I write this several hours later, I understand that perhaps it was for the best.
As much as it hurts me, I have to admit that Olivia Westerling has grown tired of suffering. I have spent years of my life tormented by a man and it is up to me to be strong enough not to trip over the same stone twice.
I love Thomas, it's true, but I must love myself more.