CHAPTER ONE

Four Years Later

The war had changed the men who returned on such a grand scale that life was never quite the same anymore. Those who were fortunate – or unfortunate, as Tommy would often say – to return from war were shadows of the men they once were. As he would walk through the streets he knew like the back of his hand when the nightmares would plague his mind, he knew that every man who had returned with him and who slept in the houses lining the same street he grew up on were all dealing with monsters created and brought back from war.

In the dying light of day, he would find himself walking down to the embankment to watch the boats pass by. It allowed his mind to wander for a few moments, and to focus on anything other than the loud voices of his family members or the distance screams of dying men. It offered him some breathing space after a long and tiring day before he would return to his room where nights were the start of a sleepless battle. Since returning from war, he had been lonely, and most nights – if not all of them since – were filled with different women who filled that void in his life, albeit temporarily. He would walk the streets to find her and when he couldn't find her, he would find another woman. It always left him feeling even more lonelier once the women redressed, pocketed the money owed to them, before leaving him alone in his room. It was a vicious cycle of fulfilling the need of being intimate with someone without the hurt that came with loving someone.

He had loved so greatly, all of which he had lost. The war had taken friends from him, but it had also taken Martha away from him. A huge hole had been left in his life since he returned home to find her gone; and to find that she was no longer waiting for his safe return was a horrible and soul-destroying moment in his life. She had left without a word or a letter which he had found strange. And so, he did what any other man would've done in his situation: he moved on with his life.

Or at least, he tried to.

In the darkness, he would think of her. And in moments like this, where he was alone with the only company being the cigarette he smoked, she would always come to mind. It was hard not to think about her for she was his life before the war. There was no trace of her anywhere, as if all sign of her existence were just created by him. He wondered where she was, how she was doing, whether she was well. There so many questions he wanted to ask that no one knew the answers to, but he had to remember one thing. No one had made her leave and it had been her decision to.

He didn't hate her for leaving, just confused as to why and how she came to making such a decision.

He hesitated outside his house and thought for a moment. He needed a drink, and a stiff one at that. Turning around and going back the way he came, he allowed his feet to carry him towards the Garrison pub. He pushed the door open and the scent of ale and cigarettes filled his senses, and he allowed a rare smile to form on his mouth. He glanced at the patrons in the pub and saw a few drunkards scattered across the pub, nursing a glass of their choice of beverage as they drank their worries and stresses away. His eyes moved across the pub and fell upon the pretty barmaid who was already pouring him a drink.

She looked up at him and smiled before moving the filled glass towards him. He walked towards her and sat down on the bar stool, his hand lifting the glass to his mouth where he took a big gulp.

"Bad day?" Grace asked, her Irish accent filling the silence. She observed him for a moment.

"Somethin' like that," he said, taking another gulp until his glass was empty.

"I'm all ears," she offered, to which he shook his head.

"Some things aren't meant to be talk about, just thought about," Tommy replied, motioning for the bottle.

Grace smirked, placing the bottle on the bar in front of him. "I didn't expect you to be full of philosophical quotes this evening, Thomas Shelby."

Tommy rolled his eyes, but a smirk tugged at his mouth. "Full of surprises, me."

"That you are," Grace said with a smile.

"Get yourself a glass," Tommy ordered, and Grace nodded. Over the months of knowing Tommy, she understood when to follow his orders. She placed a clean glass upon the bar, and Tommy didn't do much except pout the whiskey into her glass when she went to take a seat next to him. He noticed and turned his head towards her. "I didn't tell you that I wanted company…"

Grace glanced at him, offended. Tommy noticed disappointed sliver over her face.

"I'm joking," Tommy said, offering an apologetic smile towards her. Grace breathed a sigh of relief and took a seat next to him. Tommy reached out and pulled the stool that Grace was sitting on closer to him.

They sat in silence for a moment as they emptied their glasses. Tommy poured her another drink but left his own empty. Grace noticed but didn't say a word.

"You ever been in love, Grace?"

Grace glanced over at Tommy and watched him for a moment. He continued to stare forward, but he knew she was looking at him. It wasn't a question she ever thought she would ever hear coming out of Tommy Shelby's mouth. It came as quite the shock.

"I…" she trailed off. "No. I haven't."

Tommy nodded slowly. He remained silent as she waited for his answer. When his voice never filled her ears, she found herself asking him the question he had just asked her. As the question hung in the air waiting to be answered, Grace noticed that Tommy had tensed up. He tapped the side of the glass with his fingernails, creating a repetitive tap. He poured himself another drink and before it could even settle in the glass, he knocked it back.

"Once," Tommy said, quietly. "Before the war."

"I didn't know that about you," said Grace.

"Childhood sweethearts and all that," Tommy offered a faint smile trying to convince Grace that he was okay to talk about it. Except she knew he wasn't, despite him bringing up the question, for his offered smile never quite reached his eyes like it often did. "She left me."

"I'm sorry," Grace whispered, placing her hand over his. He looked over at her at that moment, his cold blue eyes boring into her. He furrowed his brow.

"Don't ever feel sorry for me, Grace. I'm not a man who should be loved."

Grace could not take her eyes off him, and it seemed that in that moment nether could Tommy.

"Every man and every woman who walks this earth deserves to be loved, Tommy. Deep down, you know that," Grace whispered, her breath hitching in her throat. She felt butterflies battle for dominance in her stomach and she realised that her hand remained over Tommy's hand.

She moved her eyes away from Tommy's gaze and moved off her seat, feeling his stare never once moving from her. She returned to her place behind the bar and took her glass away. She knew she had done the right thing when she moved away from him, as she wouldn't have been able to control herself if he looked at her like that for much longer. She yearned to be that close to him again and to have his eyes looking into her own the way he had. The past few weeks saw a change in their relationship; he was much more open towards her and she enjoyed finding out more about him. He was an interesting yet complex character.

"You should get yourself home, Tommy. There's criminals out there," Grace smirked, changing the subject.

"Let me walk you home," Tommy said, standing from the bar stool. He turned towards the drunk men still nursing their drink. "Alright lads, time to go home and see your wives."

Tommy watched as the men drunkenly stumbled out into the night. He turned towards Grace who was collecting her belongings and moving the glasses into the back. He waited by the door as she came towards him. As they exited the pub, she locked the door behind them. They walked in silence into the night, their strides matching. It had been a routine almost that some nights of the week he would walk her home, especially if she had a late shift. He did not like the idea of her walking home alone in the dark. It wasn't until they came to a stop outside her door that he spoke again.

"You sure you've never loved before, Grace?" Tommy asked, his brows furrowing. Grace took a moment before shaking her head. He nodded in response, thoughtfully. "I bid you a goodnight, Grace. Sleep well."

Grace smiled, and her cheeks blushed though it was lost in the darkness. She opened the door and turned to Tommy. "You too," she said, entering the house and closing the door after glancing at him one last time.

Tommy made his way home then, and he fell into bed. As he stared up at the ceiling, he thought of Martha once more. He knew his mind was playing tricks on him, but he was able to smell her perfume drift by him as if she had just walked by his bed. His mind was his enemy when it came to her, it knew what made him vulnerable and it knew what he wanted most in this world that it would recreate images of her that played out in front of his eyes. He breathed heavily, his chests heaving with emotion, and he allowed his eyes to fall on her. She was stood by the window this time wearing nothing but her white night dress. He would often watch her when she didn't realise his attention was upon her; he loved to watch her read or stare off into the distance and see her lips curl up into a smile as she read something or remembered something.

He allowed his eyes to trace the curves of her body illuminated by the candle on his desk. She had her back to him, and she pulled the clip out of her auburn hair allowing it to tumble down and rest on the base of her back. She turned slightly and glanced at him, and all the hairs on his body stood on end. He eyes bore into him as the smile he had fallen in love with etched across her face. He closed his eyes for a moment knowing that when reopened them, she would be gone. She savoured the image of her that burned in his mind, and slowly opened his eyes again.

She was gone. The room was empty.

He knew it was his mind playing horrible tricks with him but part of him believed that she was back. The sadness crept over him and overwhelmed him like an old friend. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes once more. He allowed himself to relax, and as sleep took him away from reality for a few hours, he didn't know that the girl in his past would cross paths with him again soon.