"Not happening. Over my dead fucking body," Tommy spat.
"That can be arranged," Alfie muttered under his breath. "Look, I don't like it any more than you do, but this has to be believable, Tommy."
"So you want to send my pregnant fiancee right into the fucking firing line?" Tommy roared. "Are you fucking mad?"
"Solomons is right," Arthur murmured begrudgingly. "This is the only way. This is the only way that they know you'll do as they say."
"I won't let them hurt her," Alfie promised. "You have my word on that."
"Your word," Tommy scoffed. "When's your word ever been good for anything, Alfie, eh?"
"Since I fell in love with that fuckin' sister of yours," Alfie answered honestly. "Look, Tommy, you want this over as much as I do and I can't see any other way, mate."
"What else can we do, Tom?" John asked, spitting his toothpick out angrily, feeling as helpless as the rest of them.
"I'll think of something," Tommy answered. "I always think of something."
"Tommy," Grace appeared in the doorway, her voice immediately making Tommy soften slightly and she stepped towards him, taking his hand and smiling. "I've heard everything. I was listening outside the door."
"Of course you fucking were," Polly commented from the alcove where she had been watching the men battle out their feelings by themselves. "And?"
"And what?" Grace frowned.
"Well, as much as it pains me to say this, I suppose that given you're the one putting yourself in danger you deserve your opinion to be heard," Polly rolled her eyes.
Grace couldn't hide the look of surprise on her face but she quickly recovered and squared her shoulders before glancing at the family around her. They all wore varying looks of unease, even Niamh's husband, who was looking at her with a pity that he was the one suggesting she be put in such a situation.
"I think⦠that I understand Tommy's reservations but I'm a part of this family now too and I'll do what I can to help," she said.
Polly snorted, grinning venomously when all eyes turned to look at her.
"She'll never be part of this family," she muttered.
"Perhaps not to you, Pol," Arthur cleared his throat uncomfortably. "But I'm happy to call her a sister."
"Course you are," Polly tutted, stalking across the room to the doorway. "Personally all I care about is getting this mess sorted and if this is the best way to do it, then so be it. But don't think for one minute that I'll suddenly welcome you back with open arms when you're done because I won't. I might respect you for it but it doesn't mean I have to like you."
"So we're all in agreement then?" John asked, looking at Tommy along with everyone else.
"I can't lose you, Grace," Tommy pressed his forehead against hers, and Alfie felt somewhat uncomfortable at seeing Tommy so vulnerable and so open.
"You won't," she told him gently, pressing her lips against his briefly and taking his hand to brush against her swollen stomach. "We'll be fine, Tommy. This sort of thing was my job once, in case you'd forgotten."
"Who could forget that," Polly quipped from the doorway, sighing when Tommy glared at her. "I'm going to check on Niamh and tell her the plan; get Solomons back in her good books as well."
"Good luck with that," Alfie muttered dejectedly.
"I don't need luck," Polly smirked. "I'm a Shelby."
"You swear to me on everything you hold close that you won't let her get hurt?" Tommy fixed Alfie with a look that was more vulnerable than Alfie ever expected to see from the man once Polly had closed the door behind her.
"Tommy," Alfie placed his hand atop his heart. "I promise you."
The car was fraught with tension as the men inside waited for their target. Behind him, Alfie snarled when Janowicz suggested once again that their plan wouldn't work.
"There's no way Tommy Shelby is going to let his pregnant wife go to the hair salon when he knows there's trouble with us."
"Will you shut the fuck up," Alfie turned around and grabbed him by the scruff of his collar. "If you don't want no part of this then fuck off and leave it to us, yeah? Hm? Yeah that's what I fuckin' thought," Alfie let go of him with a glare. "Fuckin' idiot. Whether you wanna believe me or not, I'll repeat to you what I've told you four fuckin' times already; Tommy Shelby's wife always gets what she wants. The man can't say no to her and so if she wants to go to her usual Tuesday hair appointment then she's sure as hell not gonna be told no. Got an appearance to keep up now that they're livin' like toffs now, aint she?"
"I suppose," Janowicz grumbled sullenly. "But you're telling me he's not going to send her with an army of Blinders?"
"Two or three at most, I guarantee it," Alfie answered firmly.
"Look she's there," Ollie pointed, almost taking Alfie's bloody eye out with him.
"And only two men with her," Janowicz muttered in disbelief, as he watched Grace climb out of the car which had pulled up across the road from them, right in front of the upmarket hair salon in the small village where Arrow House was situated.
"Told you, didn't I?" Alfie eyed him knowingly. "Let's crack on then boys, shall we?"
Climbing out of the car, Alfie's father gave the signal to the other two cars parked in close proximity, and they attacked. As predicted, Tommy's two men were no match for the swarm of Jews that came after them and Grace was soon in Alfie's grip, spitting at him and kicking angrily.
"Calm down, sunshine," Alfie patted her cheek and grinned, relieved that she was at least doing her best to make this whole thing look genuine. "As long as old Tommy boy does as he's told, you'll live to see another day. Shame he won't like."
"Tommy'll kill you for this," she sneered.
"He can try," Alfie muttered, dragging her towards the car where Ollie was waiting to help get her inside with the least fuss from her. Lowering his voice, he whispered quietly. "If you smack Ollie in the face while you're making a scene he'll cry, so be careful yeah?"
"Gun away, Janowicz!" Solomons Senior roared. "We're only giving them a beating; we need them alive so they can tell Shelby that we've got his wife."
"We only need one of them alive," Janowicz chuckled, and it took everything within Alfie not to react to the young lad who was shot in the face without warning. Pointing the gun against the temple of the other Blinder who was bleeding on the floor after taking a severe beating, Janowicz grinned at the look of fear on his face. "Give Tommy Shelby our regards."
Shooting the Blinder in the kneecap just for the fun of it, Janowicz headed towards the car where Grace was pretending to give Ollie and Ishmael a difficult time, but he was stopped from opening the door by Alfie's cane blocking his way.
"I just want to say hello to our prize, Solomons," Janowicz sneered. "And offer my congratulations on that little bastard growing inside of her. If she rides well enough, I might let her keep it even after we've done away with its father."
"You don't touch her," Alfie growled.
"Got feelings for her yourself, have you?" Janowicz taunted him. "Or maybe you're just making sure you don't give Tommy Shelby a reason to go after you when whatever little scheme you two have concocted to do us over goes wrong?"
"Why is it whenever you open your mouth shit comes spewin' out of it?" Alfie's finger dug into the other man's chest. "You aint nothin' but a fuckin' cunt, and I've met men far worse than you who understand how to treat women. Whether it's your woman or your enemy's woman, you don't put your fuckin' hands on 'em unless they ask for it."
"That aint what you were saying in your office the other day when you were talking about having your wife whether she wanted you or not."
"That's different," Alfie argued. "'Cause I know for a fact no matter how much Niamh hates me, she can't resist me. She'll be askin' for my mouth on her cunt even while she's tellin' me how much she hates me."
"Well lucky for me Grace Burgess or Shelby, or whatever the fuck her name is, won't just be asking for it, she'll be begging me," Janowicz pushed Alfie's hand away with a snarl. "Just like your wife'll be doing too before long. Just you wait and see."
