Every night after that Friday the cobbled street was pitch black there would be a tap on her living room window. Irene would look from left to right to make sure there was no one looking before grabbing his black overcoat and pulling him into her house. As soon as his balls were empty and she was satisfied he would put his three-piece suit back on and leave her on the floor by the fire, smiling like the cat got the cream.
Irene was enjoying this new scenario they had entered. The only time she really doubted it was the minute between his knuckle tapping her window and her, swinging her front door open. She worries that Freddie would suddenly return and would find them together. All of her doubts are forgotten when they are intertwined though. Irene found it hard to think of anything else when Thomas Shelby was on top of her. The best part of the whole week was that they hadn't said a single word to one another. Irene found that Tommy is much more attractive when he doesn't speak.
Tommy couldn't say he wasn't enjoying the new arrangement, it seemed to be going well so far. He had snook out of the home he shares with his aunt and his youngest brother, Finn for the first time that Saturday. He had done it on a whim after a killer of a day with his brother John. When she realised who it was, Irene hadn't said a word. Instead, she grabbed his black coat and pulled him into the house.
Due to the unspoken no speaking rule, they had not actually discussed if they would still be meeting this Friday. Tommy had decided that maybe it would be best that he should stick to there usual arrangement, just in case. As he stands at the bar, whiskey in hand he watches the rest of the Garrison around him. It wasn't as busy as usual but, that was fine with him. Tommy feels a tap on the shoulder, and he knows it's her before he even turns around. Without thinking about his movement, Tommy leans down and places a chaste kiss on her rouge lips. Irene gasps, her eyes wide. What was he doing? Quickly she glances around the room and sees that no one is looking at them.
"Sorry," It was the first word he had said to her this week, and it seemed pathetic in comparison to what he really wanted to say. Irene doesn't respond to his apologie as she turns to order herself a drink. Irene places her coins on the bar but, the barman slides them back to her. Irene frowns as she pushes them across the bar, quickly turning away from him. She takes a sip of her drink before turning back to Thomas, she would need courage tonight.
Tommy takes her hand and leads her to the dance floor. He places his hand on her waist, raises her hand, and they begin to sway across the floor. This is where Irene felt most comfortable. This is where she knows what to expect, and she loves it. Tommy dips her slowly, her brunette hair grazing the wooden floor. Gently he lifts her back up, bringing her back into a perfect hold. Irene wants to give him praise but, she holds back. When they first started dancing, his arms were flimsy, and he kept stepping on her feet. Slowly, but surely Irene had given him pointers, and now he was the most ideal dance partner, especially when it came to the waltz. As the music comes to an end, Tommy brings his lips to her ears. "We need to talk." He mutters, taking Irene's small hand. She nods in response, curious as to what he has to say.
Tommy leads her out of the pub and into the darkness of the cold night. Irene takes a cigarette from Tommy's packet and lights it, raising her eyebrows she turns to him expectantly. "I saw Freddie today." He starts.
The black water ripples with every stone that he flicks in. His ears prick up at the sound of the crunching gravel under someone's boots beside him. The click of the gun being cocked makes his heart pound under his press white shirt. "Do you remember, when we where kids we would swim across-"
"Stop talking!" The man spits, pressing the gun into Tommy's peaked cap.
"Do you think we could still do it?" He hears the sigh escape from his lips and the gun back away slightly, and he takes the opportunity as it comes. Suddenly, Tommy swings his body around and pushes the revolver away. He draws his gun and points it back at the scruffy man, Freddie Thorne. "Polly came to see us, gave us the money. We do not accept!"
"The money was for you to take, not Ada." Tommy corrects him, the plan had been for Freddie to take the money. Polly had hoped that Freddie would accept the money and make off with it, leaving Ada behind. "She's better without you." Tommy nods in agreement to his own words. Yes, Ada Shelby was definitely better without him, the whole world would be.
"Maybe," Freddie purses his lips and nods. "But you see Tom, there's a problem with that." He tilts his head to the side, his brown eyes narrow. "Where ever I go, she goes. She's my wife." The words hit Tommy like a punch to the gut, he had to be lying. Tommy pauses for a second, his mind buzzing with the words being spoken. Tommy glances down to Freddie's left hand and see's the dirty gold band on his finger. Freddie sees him looking and hold it up so that he can get a better look. "Three weeks this Thursday." Tommy shudders at the words.
"Well," Tommy licks his lips the only words he knows can sting Freddie as much as that would surely tarnish Irene's reputation. "I'm fucking your sister." He says them anyway.