Chapter 88

Dear Miss Jackson,

Let me open this letter by apologising for how rude I must have seemed to you today. I hope the content of it will justify my behaviour by explaining why I acted as I did.

To put it in the simplest terms, I wanted you out of the office before Mr Arterton got wind of you being in so that I could reach out to you with this before he got a hold of you.

William Arterton, to speak frankly, doesn't believe in women having jobs that are not based around serving him or other men. Not only does he never directly hire women, but he's never once promoted one to a senior role if a women does somehow get in.

To give you my personal background, I joined the civil service in 1916 – when the war was in full swing. In my role at that time I helped interview parents – mainly women, given this was the war years – of forced removals and typed up my notes, giving them on to my superiors to examine and decide if there was any chance of the children being returned home.

I'm unsure how much you will know about it, but in 1918, when the war ended and the men began to return, we did have a Women's Advisory Committee that was set up specifically to advise the Minister for Reconstruction regarding the women who had been temporarily employed during the war years. I was one of the lucky ones – I got to stay employed, though I suspect a large part of that was due to the man I was expecting to become engaged to never returning from the war and it was a way of making some sort of show of sympathy towards me.

Having said that, the sympathy did not extend to me staying within my job role. In the restructuring I was moved to secretarial role. You understand of course that the restructure was to allow the men returning from war to return to their roles – this was around the time I first met Mr Arterton. The thing about it all, is that it wasn't a man who returned from the war who took the role I had been doing. It was a boy fresh out of school, too young to have fought. Within the time since 1918 and now, he has become one of the superiors I would have handed my interview notes over to, whilst I have stayed in the role I was reassigned to.

Phillipa Carmichael, who I believe you met at your school, left a message telling me to tell Mr Arterton to expect you. She outlined your achievements and said she'd tried to push you towards nursing but that you were very insistent you wanted to get into social care, specifically mentioned you wanted to help women and children.

If Miss Carmichael is right, and you do want to help women and children through social care I can personally vouch that as things are right now, you won't get to do that under William Arterton. As I mentioned, I've never been able to move out with my assigned role despite having the experience of doing other jobs, and it isn't for lack of applying to other posts, which I then get to watch be filled by seventeen year old boys with no experience as I stay stuck.

I was rude to every woman who came through the door in the time between that phone call and you eventually arriving – and I hope you may prove it to have been worth it, because although the contents have been rather bleak so far this is not a letter without hope.

I am part of the Council of Women Civil Servants group, Birmingham division. We are campaigning for women with university degrees to be hired into Administrative Class roles – and trying to exert pressure onto men like Arterton to hire us into Executive Class roles at the moment, though admittedly without much success.

With your results, you should be at university, Miss Jackson. If you'll forgive my presumption, I will imagine from your address that you've never considered that a possibility. But if you are interested in helping women and in anything of what I've written above, then we of the Council of Women Civil Servants, Birmingham, would be open to aiding you in attending the university if you would, upon graduating, champion our cause.

If you would be interested in discussing this further we meet on Friday, 8pm, at the below address.

Yours Sincerely,

Alice Thompson

Tommy finished reading, cleared his throat, folded the paper over, placed it on the kitchen table and took his time lighting a cigarette before saying, "Well," coughing and sticking the cigarette in his mouth, finally meeting her eyes.

She stood before him, playing with her own fingers a little nervously.

The nervousness bothered him – he was used to other people being nervous around him, and he knew Polly and his brothers well enough to pick up on it when even they were nervous around him, though they hid it better than most - but in this instance he wasn't entirely sure what the basis of it was.

Still, he kept his face impassive, didn't let on about the intensity of his need to know when he questioned her, flicking his cigarette and relaxing back into the chair as he did so, "Why would you think I wouldn't want you to go to that?"

She stilled her fingers and her eyes went slightly wide as she looked at him, as if she thought it might be a trick question.

He blinked slowly and shook his head ever so slightly, frowning a little, "I'm just asking. I don't see why you think I'd have a problem with it."

"Tommy – I…" she trailed off then, rushing, "What do you know about women's rights groups?"

He shrugged, "That they want equal rights for men and women – that they got you the vote – I know, I know!" he rushed, seeing her open her mouth to protest, "It's only women over thirty, I know. I realise the work isn't done yet as far as you're concerned. And I'm presuming this," he picked up the paper he'd discarded and flapped it a little as he spoke, "Women In The Civil Service group is about trying to get more women into roles they want to be doing – that they're qualified for."

"I hadn't heard of them before," she said, "Suppose it's quite a specific group."

He inclined his head in a stilted nod, still not sure where the conversation was going.

She took a deep breath and gave a loud exhale, her shoulders following the pattern, coming up and flopping down then being given a shake as she worked herself up to speaking some more, "The thing is, Tommy, most of the women's groups that are of any use to women who aren't middle or upper class…" she trailed off again, biting her lip and he stayed silent, letting her think, "The thing is, they link to communists. There's a… a synergy there, I suppose, about equality. You remember me telling you about Sylvia starting the WSF – when she first started, it was the Worker's Suffrage Federation and then it changed to the Worker's Socialist Federation and it's kept evolving Tommy; Sylvia's a member of the Communist Party of Great Britain herself now, she's even been in jail for sedition. I know she's argued with Lenin and doesn't explicitly agree with him, but it's all moving that way. Working class women aren't served by the policies being made in parliament, same as most working class men aren't, if we're being honest. They don't think labour is left wing enough. I believe what I believe Tommy, and I won't change that," she said, that little glint of steel shining in her voice, her chin tilting up at him even as she stood before him, having told him she wouldn't go if he didn't want her to, "And I don't think what the communists are after is wrong – I meant that when I said it to Arterton. But I heard what you said to Ada in here that day."

The day he had caught her with the damn Communist Manifesto. The day he thought he'd done a good enough job at getting Ada back in line, only to find out later he had failed miserably. Well, even if Ada had ignored him to run back to Freddie, it seemed at least one of the two miscreants of the evening had listened to him.

"I understand where you're coming from – and it sticks in my mind that Lily's teacher smacked her that time because she thought that bonfire was something to do with communists. I don't want to do anything that's going to endanger her or anybody else in the family Tommy, but at the same time – I'd told myself I could ignore the politics and that I could just concentrate on getting a job that would mean I could help in a real way – that was why I liked Sylvia to start with, because she did real, practical things to help with her restaurants and her factory. But you met Arterton yourself, you heard how he was, even though the politics have made the policies, he's ignoring them – no matter how nice he was about it at first, you saw him change when I made it clear I knew what I was talking about," her voice trembled the more she spoke, "The only reason I have a job to go to on Monday, bearing in mind we don't even know what it is yet Tommy, is because I blackmailed him – I as good as held a gun to his head because I wasn't going to get in otherwise. And that's – that's not right, Thomas, it's not."

She shook her head violently and looked upwards, as if to stop tears from forming.

"I know it's not right, sweetheart, I know that," he said, putting down his cigarette to reach out and grasp her wrist, running his thumb back and forth across the raised blue veins, hoping to calm her.

"I don't need to be a member of a political party if I can feel I'm doing work on the ground for my beliefs Tommy, that was the deal I made with myself," she told him, her voice nearly cracking, "That way I didn't put Lily in danger and I didn't disobey you. But it looks like I'll have a fight on my hands to be doing any worthwhile work and, well, I've put a spanner in the works of whatever plan this Alice woman might have been going to propose by going back and bloody blackmailing Arterton, but I'd like to know what this group has to say for itself, to see what they're about – if you'd be alright with that?"

"C'mere," he murmured, using his hold on her wrist to pull her onto his lap, snaking an arm around her waist, "You've obviously been thinking about this – why didn't you show this to me last night?"

She hesitated, tense in his arms before she told him, "You seemed stressed last night after everything with John's lot, I thought you could do without anything else being heaped on."

He lifted a hand to her face and stroked it gently, bring his lips to hers.

"You're a good woman, eh?" he murmured quietly to her as they broke apart, "Dunno what I did to deserve you but you're a good one."

She relaxed into his hold a little more at his words and he trailed his hand up and down the bends of her small waist and swelling hips and thighs. She was a good one, that was the truth. He had been worked up the night before, between the energy he'd spent worrying about the kids in the first place alongside the energy he'd spent worrying about John as a father as well as John's own bloody mental state. And she clearly had thought this meeting would bother him and hadn't wanted to pile that on. God, he didn't deserve her at all.

"Well, I can't say I want you anywhere near anything communist – one in the bloody family is more than enough," he told her, "But I don't see any harm in you going along tomorrow, seeing what they've got to say and who they are. If any of them are communists though, I don't want your name on anything, I don't want you signing anything – I don't want anything that in a police raid would bring your name up, you got it?"

"Really?" she asked, tilting her little face up to him, "You don't mind if I go?"

He pressed his mouth to her sweet little one again, unable to stop himself as she looked at him with those enormous eyes before sitting back, "Really. But I want to know exactly what happens and if it seems to be getting explicitly political you leave, alright?"

"Alright," she nodded.

"Now – one last thing before we move on," he told her, causing her eyebrow to raise in question, "This, what they've said about university, is that something you've thought about? I mean, is going to university something you want to do?"

She frowned, her little mouth twisting and he fought not to lift his thumb to it to smooth it out.

"It's not something I'd ever thought on, no," she said slowly, still frowning as she thought, "I don't know if it's for me. I like learning but I hated being at school – being sat in classrooms and being told what to do and nothing to be done about it if the teacher was an arsehole. But at the same time – nothing you can do about it if there's an arsehole in charge at your work, is there? They're everywhere and writing it off on that basis is probably a bit stupid on my part."

"I hear there's a right arsehole in charge around that betting shop through there," Tommy said, nodding his head in the direction of the door and grinning.

"Ah, he's not so bad. Pays decently too, even if you're a woman," she replied, obviously too touched at his agreement to her going to her meeting to take the opportunity to rip it out of him even at his own offering.

"I'll pass that on next time I hear the complaints."

She smiled, then her mouth settled into a straight line as she went back to topic at hand, "The truth is I just don't know if university is for me. I mean, I wouldn't have ever been able to afford it before anyway, so I didn't bother thinking much on it."

"How much is it?"

"I don't even want to imagine the figures," Rosie replied, almost shivering, "But I'd like to hear what they've got to say."

"Regardless of what they've got to say, Rosie, if you want to go to university, you know you have my full support, don't you?" he asked carefully, watching her face.

She was impassive for a minute before she said, "Well, let's see what tomorrow brings, eh?"

He figured she didn't want to talk about it any longer, so he nodded, letting it go, "Alright."

She made to stand but he tightened his grip on her, "Not so fast," and watched as she shot him a wide eyed, questioning look.

"Now, you just made sure I knew exactly what I'd be agreeing to if I said you could go sweetheart, potential communists and all – and you didn't need to do that," he told her, running a finger along her jaw and landing a light kiss, "I'm very proud of you for being such a good girl. And as we've discussed before, good girls get rewards."

He accompanied his words with the moving of his hand from her jaw to her knee, squeezing it and then slipping his palm between it and the other, running his hand up her thighs and landing it at the top, giving a little nudge against her cunt.

"Tommy," she murmured, squirming against him a little, "Finn could come in any minute."

Despite her words her legs spread a little, allowing him to continue stroking his fingers up and down. He glanced over her shoulder at the clock above the fire – it was gone nine. Damn him for deciding Finn should be allowed to stay out later.

"Hmm," he murmured, patting his fingers firmly against her, delighting in her little moan and squirm in response.

He took his time kissing her before saying, "I suppose you're right. Well, you'll need to wait a half hour or so for you reward then, will you manage?"

She smiled against him, "It's not ideal but I'll manage."

"I don't suppose you'd fancy using the time to put your pyjamas on?" he suggested with a raised eyebrow, receiving a questioning one in return.

"They're much easier to get in and out of than these tight trousers – designed as they were to tease me all day every day by outlining what a pretty arse you've got," he explained.

She grinned, "These trousers? Really?"

"Really."

"I'll remember that."

He snorted, "Good girls get rewards – naughty, overpleased with themselves girls get spankings and don't you forget it."

"Yes sir," she murmured, kissing him, "Just so you know – ever since I realised Thomas Shelby wanted to kiss me I've been very overpleased with myself, every minute of the day if we're being honest."

"That right?" he replied, returning the kiss.

"Mhmm."

He took hold of her waist and tipped her forwards, her giggling madly as he swatted away at her, tutting, "Every minute of the day is it? Need to be taking a hairbrush to your backside, my girl, teach you a lesson."

"Yes sir," she replied, wriggling in a delightful way, sticking her arse out for him.

He took a few minutes to enjoy smacking at her arse, watching it move under the tightness of the trousers, but he was aware Finn was likely to appear – and more likely with every passing second – so before he could get carried away he pulled her upright, kissed her and then stood both of them up, sending her in the direction of the stairs with a smack.

"Oh – and Rosie," he called after her as she began to make her way towards them.

"Hmm?"

"You ever considered getting a nightdress instead of pyjamas?"

It'd make his job a lot easier.

She grinned wickedly, "I'll think on it."

"Just you do that."

Maybe he'd just buy her one himself, he thought, returning to the cigarette, only to find it had burnt out during their… discussion.

"And Rosie…"

"What?"

"Don't put on any underwear."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Finn's in bed," he told her, coming into the front room and closing the door, the last of the trail of doors from Finn and Lily's rooms down that he'd made sure were firmly closed over.

"Is that right?" she asked coyly, cocking an eyebrow at him from where she sat on the sofa, leaning sideways against it, her knees pulled up to her chin.

"Mhmm," he told her, going to the front door and checking it was locked, "So I believe I owe you a reward, don't I?"

"I think I heard something along those lines being promised, yes."

He went to the sofa and placed one knee on it, holding himself above her and reaching down to tilt her head back to kiss her properly. Her arms wound up to his neck, then her fingers played their way up to that spot right behind his ear, almost making him grunt into her mouth as she pulled him further down to her.

He broke off and stroked her face, kissing her lightly again before cooing at her, half joking, half serious, "Who's been a good girl then?"

"Me," she replied smirking, reaching up to kiss him lightly, "Mr Shelby said so."

"Mr Shelby did so, did he eh?" he murmured, drawing circles on her cheeks with the tip of his nose.

"Uhuh," she replied, taking a hold of his shirt and pulling him down, almost making him lose his balance.

He grabbed her knees and used them to yank her down on the sofa, so her head was on the cushion her back had been propped against.

"Get those legs spread for me sweetheart," he growled, his cock twitching as she obediently spread her knees as far as they would go.

He settled his own knee between hers then moved his head back to hers, taking the time to kiss her properly as his hands stroked and squeezed at her waist. He kept his left hand in place and trailed his right upwards, thumbing at her erect nipples through the pyjama shirt, enjoying the groan she made right into his mouth at the action. He was in no rush, despite the way she was arching her back to his touch and took his time kissing her thoroughly – not just on her pretty little mouth but across her nose, her cheeks, her jawline and her neck before starting the whole thing again, switching hands to squeeze her waist with his right and thumb instead at her left nipple.

"Tommy," she moaned, writhing under him, scooting herself further down so she could push her cunt against the leg he had planted, rolling her hips as she did so.

He slid his hand down and squeezed at her arse, tutting, "Here I am taking my time to ensure your pleasure and here you are trying to speed it all along."

"You're teasing," she accused, pouting.

"And now you know how I feel watching you in those trousers all day," he replied, smacking at her side of her arse.

"Well, if that's been an issue for you," she said, flicking her eyebrows and, before he could react, reaching her hand to the apex of his own thighs as he stood splayed over her.

She didn't do anything particularly specialist, simply cupped her hand around him and squeezed, but he closed his eyes and grunted.

"Rose. Stop. Now," he bit out, slowly opening an eye to glare at her when her hand didn't remove itself.

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"Tommy, I want to touch you."

"And you will – but not now."

"When?"

"When I say so," he ordered through clenched teeth, feeling his already erect cock twitching dangerously simply from the pressure of her hand.

"Give me a better answer – why?" she demanded and, far from removing her hand, she applied more pressure.

He snatched her wrist in his hand and dragged it away, the two of them glaring at one another.

"Because, as I've told you, many fucking times," he growled, "I want you to achieve what you want to achieve. I'm not putting a fucking baby in you and ruining your life like Freddie has done to Ada and I don't trust myself not to lose control and do exactly that right now, alright?"

"And what if I trust you not to lose control?"

He snorted, still gripping her wrist, then drawled sarcastically, "That's cute sweetheart, but I think I know a bit more about men and their ability to control themselves than you do."

"You think so?"

"Don't start."

She sighed and her glare gave way to a little sadness, "Alright. I won't touch you tonight."

"Good girl."

"Do I still get my reward?" she asked, raising her hips hopefully at him.

He was glad to be asked to go back to what they had been doing before.

"Think you still deserve a reward do you you little wench?" he asked, leaning down to brush her lips with his again, moving his hand to between her legs, delivering a little smack.

He could feel the dampness of her through the thin cotton and was glad he had thought to tell her not to wear underwear.

"Please sir, I'll be a good girl," she promised, blinking up at him, giving him that endearingly innocent little smile she seemed to save only for him.

"Hmm," he replied, sitting back on his heel and pushing her outside knee to the edge of the sofa, opening it further, before bending his mouth to the seam of her pyjamas. He pressed light kisses through the fabric down from the top of her mound right around to the damp patch where her opening was, where he took the time to not only land multiple kisses, but also to ensure he sent hot puffs of air right through the fabric against her spread open cunt, even using his tongue to push against the fabric, to taste the dampness of her.

She bucked under him, lifting her hips and pressing down, grinding herself against his face and moaning as she did so.

"Feel good sweetheart?" he asked, sitting back to look up the length of her body, taking in the sight of her eyes screwed shut and her forehead wrinkling in response to the working up of her that he'd done.

She nodded vigorously, muttering, "Yes Tommy, it feels good," not opening her eyes, her head rolling back, her chest pushing up of its own accord.

"Good girl," he said again, patting at her clit, "Now – since you've been such a good girl and this is your reward, you can choose darling - do you want me to make you cum by playing here," he tapped her clit again, "Or here?" he moved his knuckle to the damp patch and pushed up and in, feeling the slick of her under him, the fabric slipping with it.

"There, Tommy - right there - please," she gasped out, pushing down against him, still not opening her eyes.

He smiled, moving his hand into a fist and starting to work the row of his knuckles against her, pushing up into her and moving up and down against her whilst she squirmed and moaned underneath him.

"Tommy – that's amazing – don't – don't – don't stop," she grunted, her hips rolling.

He didn't stop, he kept pushing his knuckle into her, working them along her, but he moved his other hand to undo a few buttons on her pyjama jacket and push it aside so he could thumb at her nipple at the same time.

"Jesus Tommy!" she moaned, letting out a little noise from her throat to accompany the words.

"You like that darling?"

"Yes."

"Feel good?"

"Yes Tommy it feels good," she replied, her voice straining.

"Good. My good girl deserves to feel good, don't you? You're such a good girl for me, aren't you?"

"Yes Tommy, I'm a good girl for you," she panted back.

"Is my good girl going to cum hard for me?"

"Yes!"

"You close sweetheart?"

She didn't reply with words, just nodded and screwed her face up, letting out a guttural noise.

He unfisted his hand, causing a mew of displeasure for the moment he took to lift it to do so, then got a moan of satisfaction as he returned to the spot but with the pads of two fingers, pushing right into her opening and settling there, drawing tight, fast circles over her.

He squeezed her breast, "You like that?"

"Yes!"

Her voice was desperate and he knew she was close.

"Such a good girl," he crooned out at her.

The words were enough to tip her over, she thrashed under him for a second, pushing her cunt against his fingers as if she wanted to take them into her – which he supposed she did – and then, her hips lifted off the sofa, she stilled her body, her head flopping back and her breasts rising as she let out a long, satisfied moan.

He stayed still, letting her settle back down herself.

"Good, darling?"

She peeled open her eyes and nodded at him – incredibly pretty in her post orgasm state, her hair even wilder than usual from her thrashing around, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright, "Yes thank you."

He returned the smile she was giving him, slowing drawing his fingers away from her and sitting back on his side of the sofa.

She took her time drawing her knees back together and sitting up, still flushed by the time she did so then said, "That was incredibly good Tommy. But I do mean it, I want to make you feel that way in return."

"You do sweetheart," he replied, trying to palm her off.

"You know what I mean."

He sighed and gave her a stern look, "Do you want a spanking for being pushy and refusing to take a telling? Because you're heading that way."

She sighed and shook her head, wriggling around so she could lay her head on his knee, taking the hand nearest her into hers, twisting their fingers together.

"Good girl," he murmured, his free hand threading into her hair.

Just above where her face lay, his balls ached and his cock leaked with pre-cum.

Thank you as always for your reviews and comments.

Special thank you to the two anons on my Tumblr whose name suggestions I pushed together to make Alice Thompson, I was having a complete blank on names that sounded suitably working class Birmingham circa the 1920s. (And thank you of course to everyone who replied to my name suggestions question in the first place!)

On the historical side note, the Council of Women Civil Servants was a real group of women in the civil service, post war, who campaigned women's causes within the civil service - which I outlined in this post here after I'd posted Chapter 85: findinghisredrighthand dot tumblr dot com/post/650667320224759808/chapter-85

The advisory committee etc that Alice mentions was also real, you can read more historically about the whole thing here - www dot civilservant dot org dot uk/women-history

With that in mind, I just want to make it perfectly clear that Alice Thompson, William Arterton and the Birmingham Division of the Council of Women Civil Servants are all entirely my own works of fiction - obviously very much rooted in the real life situations faced by women at the time but I'm not out here trying to slander anyone in particular through this story!