I want to thank all of you for reading this little story of mine. I've been wanting to go back to writing for years, but life got in the way. I love the visual story-telling of TV and Peaky Blinders does it like no other. So, during the initial lockdown, I took the plunge and put down on "paper" (=screen) a story which had been in my head for a while. I published it on the off-chance a few people might like it and have been really quite over-whelmed by the fact that it's being read at all, let alone all the follows and favourites and the lovely reviews. You can't know how appreciated they are. I can't promise regular updates. I'm a teacher and right now, here in the UK, all the schools are closed which means I have the tricky task of teaching 6-year-olds online! Life is busy. But I'm enjoying the escapism of writing so I will update when I can. Enjoy the next chapter.

John saw the woman leave The Garrison as he headed through the door. He didn't recognise her; maybe she was a new cleaner. He didn't notice the overturned table or a disturbed Arthur as he strode towards the office. He did notice the broken mirror though and informed his brother cheerfully of the incurred seven years of bad luck as he rounded the corner of the bar. He'd come to check the books of the pub. John's mathematic skills weren't great, but they were better than Arthur's, and Tommy had asked him to keep an eye on the accounts. He was rummaging through the drawers looking for the ledger when the phone rang. He picked up the receiver.

"Garrison"

"Is that Arthur Shelby?"

"No, it's John. Who's this?"

"It's Seth Young. Elias sent me to phone you."

John frowned. He'd heard of Elias Young, of course, but had no idea why one of his family was ringing the Garrison. They had no dealings with the Youngs who were notorious for their insular ways.

"What's Elias Young want with us?"

"He says to tell you that Tommy is at the camp with the girl and that Baba Greenleaf is healing her. Tommy says he'll be home when she's better."

John blinked, trying to process this information. He couldn't.

"What?"

Seth repeated what he'd said and then hung up the phone. John stared at the wall opposite, the phone receiver still at his ear. Tommy was at the Young camp? With Rose who was being healed? None of it made sense but it was definitely worrying news. The last he'd heard, Tommy had gone to London to get their wayward sister who'd taken it upon herself to go there and meet with Alfie Solomons, of all people. He thought back to the panic when they'd discovered she was missing and the surprise and concern when Alfie phoned with the news that she was with him in London. She was a handful was Rose. She was too sharp and too fearless for her own good, a miniature version of Tommy for sure and, as much as he admired and looked up to his older brother, John wasn't sure that was necessarily a good thing.

He put the receiver back down and shouted for Arthur. They had to go to the Young camp straight away. Tommy would need them. All he could think about was that Rose had somehow been injured in London and Tommy had taken her to the infamous healer. They needed to get to Tommy to find out if Rose was ok and what retribution was needed for this, the worst of crimes against their family. The more he thought about it, the more angry he became and the more blood he intended to shed. He'd gather an army of Peaky men and they'd descend on London ready to dole out a slaughter, the likes of which Alfie Solomons had never seen.

"Arthur!" He yelled for his brother again, annoyed that he'd ignored him the first time.

"What?" came back the equally annoyed reply.

John stormed out of the office to Arthur.

"He's hurt our Rose."

Arthur jumped to his feet, this news eclipsing the thoughts he was having about the encounter with the grieving mother who'd just tried to kill him.

"Who has?"

"Alfie Solomons"

"Was that Tommy on the phone? What's happened?"

"No, it was Seth Young. We need to get men and go down there."

Now it was Arthur's turn to blink in confusion.

"Seth Young? Elias Young's kin?"

"Yeah. How many men do you think, Arthur? Thirty? Fifty?"

Arthur was getting frustrated with John's lack of explanation.

"John! Tell me what he said."

John was impatient to get out and gather his army. "Who?"

Arthur clenched his jaw and tried to steady his rising anger at his younger brother.

"Seth Young! Tell me what he said, John."

"He said that Tommy and Rose were at the camp and that their healer was with Rose. That can only mean one thing, Arthur. Rose was hurt in London and Tommy needs us to back him up."

Arthur felt the panic rise up inside of him. Rose was hurt. His baby sister meant the world to him and now she was hurt at the hands of Alfie Solomons. He knew Tommy shouldn't have gone into business with him. What was the point of expanding the business to London when they were doing perfectly well here in Birmingham. He clenched his fists. Tommy put the family through a lot with his ambition and thirst for power, and most of the time, Arthur went along with him. Tommy was the brains, he was the muscle and that was fine by him. He knew his place. But now he'd put their young sister in danger and Arthur wasn't sure who he was most mad at – Alfie or Tommy.

"Get thirty men, John. Any more and we'll draw attention in London. Get them in the trucks and meet me outside in 15 minutes. We'll head to Tommy first at the Youngs, I know he'll want to lead this. I'll let Polly know."

"Right" John practically marched out of the pub, intent on his mission to gather their best men to avenge the attack on Rose.

Arthur headed to the office, picked up the phone and asked the operator to put him through to Polly's new house. He knew she was taking Michael there today.

"Hello?" Polly spoke impatiently. This had better be important, she didn't want any interruptions in her day with her newly-found son. She was expecting to hear from Tommy the minute he had Rose home but she didn't want to be dealing with anything else.

"Polly"

She recognised Arthur's gruff voice and groaned inside. Every time he phoned her, it was to ask for help with the business or to tell her something she didn't want to hear.

"Arthur, what is it? I told you I didn't want to be disturbed today. I've got Michael…."

Arthur interrupted her. "It's Rose, she's hurt."

Polly felt the air go out of her and sat down on the chair next to the phone. That girl was, for all intents and purposes, her own child. Rose had never known her mother and Polly had promised her sister-in-law that she would raise her as her own, even as the painful memory of how she'd lost her actual children ripped her heart in two. She remembered coming down the stairs after having watched Mary's life drain away and seeing Tommy holding Rose by the fire. She knew that Tommy would give his life for that baby. Her heart broke knowing that what she was about to tell him would change his life and the life of the child in his arms forever. She gripped her rosary and vowed then and there that she would do everything in her power to keep this family together. And now, Rose had been caught in the middle of these stupid boys and their gang warfare. She would kill Tommy when she got her hands on him.

Polly knew, deep down, that she'd been so preoccupied with wanting to find her own children recently that she hadn't been supervising Finn and Rose very well at all, though Finn was moving away from her influence now. A boy pretending to be a man. He wasn't cut out for the life she knew his brothers were planning for him even as they protected him from the worst of it. Finn was gentle and easy-going, not very bright but he could have learned a trade and supported a family. Rose was a different creature altogether and Polly knew how much she wanted to be like Tommy. She'd made it her life's work to keep her on the straight and narrow. How had she missed what Rose was planning? She was usually one step ahead of her niece, knowing her inside out. Polly had felt it like a punch in her gut when they realised Rose was missing. Tommy had glowered at her, knowing that it was her argument with him that had led to the confusion over where Rose had spent the night. She knew he was right, but had glared back at him. He hadn't made much effort to keep tabs on his sister either.

"Polly?" She snapped back to the present.

"Tell me what happened, Arthur."

"We've had word that Tommy had to take Rose to Old Greenleaf Young."

Polly was not expecting that news. She frowned. Greenleaf Young? Why would Tommy drive for three hours to get help for an injured Rose in Northampton when there were doctors in London?

"What word did you get, Arthur?"

"We had a phone call from Seth Young to say that Tommy had taken Rose to their camp for healing and that he'd be home when she was better. John's gone to round up some men and we're going to meet Tommy at the Young camp before going to London to take care of it."

Polly closed her eyes and sighed. "Arthur, did Tommy ask you to gather an army to go to London?"

A hesitation. "Well, not in so many words."

"Then why on earth are you doing it?"

"Polly, you don't seem to see how serious this is. Rose was hurt when she was in London. We can't just do nothing."

Polly raised her eyes to the heavens. She loved Arthur and John dearly but they hadn't been blessed with a brain between them.

"Arthur, did Seth say she'd been hurt in London?"

Arthur was beginning to see what Polly was getting at. "No, he didn't.

"So, as far as you know, it could just as well be her lungs are bad given that she's been halfway across the country without a coat!"

Arthur was meek now. "Yeah, maybe."

"Then, Arthur, when John appears with his soldiers, send them all back home again, the two of you get in a car and come and pick me up. We'll go to the Youngs' camp and find out what's going on, eh?"

"Right, Pol. I'll do that then."

"Yes, you do that, Arthur."

She put the receiver back down and rubbed her temples. This had come at such a bad time. This Shelby family did nothing but bleed her dry. Why couldn't she have just one day to herself? One day when it was just her and her son. She was worried about Rose. She knew how weak her lungs were and how quickly she could take a turn for the worse. Polly knew the signs and knew how to nip any illness in the bud. Rose would be kept in and kept warm. She'd be breathing in steam from a bowl of water and mint. She'd have a warm compress on her chest. She'd be drinking herbal teas and plenty of fluids. Polly had a rudimentary knowledge of Gypsy medicine and had often made use of it in her many years of caring for the Shelbys. Rose must have been very ill for Tommy to have decided to divert to Salcey Forest. It was a risk given the Youngs' reputation towards outsiders. Thankfully, it seemed that Tommy's luck had served him well again. Greenleaf Young was the best healer in the land and Polly was extremely glad she was treating Rose.

"Is everything ok?"

She looked up to see Michael standing in the doorway, looking concerned. What a sight he was! She could still see in him the little boy she remembered and yet here he was on the cusp of manhood and back in her life – and by his choice, no less. It was everything she could have wished for. Well, not everything.

Polly stood up, inwardly shaking off the sadness she knew would always be there in some form.

"It's Rose, she's not well." Polly was unsure how much to tell him.

"Is she still in London?" Michael was curious about his youngest cousin. He'd yet to meet her but she sounded like quite a character. What eleven year old girl travels to London all by herself to meet with her brother's business partner? Michael wasn't quite sure who Alfie Solomons was or what his business was with Tommy, but he could take a good guess. He still didn't fully understand where Rose came into it all though. Surely the Shelbys didn't involve their children in the family business.

"No, she's in Northampton. In a Gypsy camp. With a healer." Polly thought she may as well tell Michael the full story. After all, he had Gypsy blood in him too.

Michael was intrigued. "In a Gypsy camp with a healer?" He'd heard about Gypsies when he was growing up in his little village. He'd been told they were vagabonds and thieves; that they dabbled in black magic and told fortunes and would curse good English folk for no reason. He's seen a few come to the door from time to time, selling baskets and pegs and offering to repair any tools or pots. His mother always sent them packing, muttering about them darkening the doorstep of good honest people. He's been as intrigued then as he was now. Anything which was different to the quiet, idyllic life he led in that village was a draw to him. Looking at his mother's dark eyes now, he wondered if she was from Gypsy stock. Which meant he was too.

"Yes, Tommy took her there on the way home from London. She must be ill for him to have done that. Arthur and John are coming to pick me up now so we can go and find out what's going on."

"Really? Can I come too?" Michael had the good grace to realise that his eagerness was a little out of place given the concern for Rose. "I mean, if it's alright with you?"

Polly looked at Michael's shining eyes and could see his desire to find out about his real family. And, truth be told, Polly was proud of her lineage. She was descended from Gypsy royalty after all. Still, she wanted to keep Michael away from certain sides of her life. He was so well-bred, so well-spoken, so smart and well-mannered. Did she really want him mixing with a cursing gaggle of travelling folk? However, as she considered, she knew she shouldn't keep this from him. And, out of all the Gypsy families, the Youngs were one the more palatable for a young man fresh from the countryside to meet.

"Yes, you can come. There's no reason for you not to know about where you're from."

"Super! I'll get my coat."

Polly smiled at that word again as she watched him go. How torn she felt. She was bound to the Shelbys, as much as they made her life difficult. But now that Michael had reappeared, she felt a new desire. A desire to leave this life of grime and guilt, of fear and of always looking over her shoulder. She wanted better for Michael. This new house was a start, but even that was bought with money from Tommy's dubious business dealings. She desperately wanted to keep Michael and the Shelbys at a distance from each other, but knew this was all but impossible. She shook her head as she went to get ready. One problem at a time.

The car squealed to a stop in front of the house, blaring its horn. Polly cursed. How many times did she have to tell them?

"Come on, Michael. They're here."

"Yes, I heard."

After making John get into the back next to Michael so she could sit in the front next to Arthur, Polly settled in for the journey. She had given Arthur and John withering looks and asked if the men had been sent home. John was still defiant. He couldn't see what harm it would have done to arrive with back-up, even if it turned out that they didn't need them. Polly made sure to tell him, in no uncertain terms, what a stupid idea that was, that it would spook the Youngs if they turned up with thirty fighting men, that they couldn't risk falling out with them whilst Greenleaf was healing Rose and could John just try to use his brain for once, please. John sat back with his arms folded and sulked for the rest of the journey. Michael looked at him amused. He was liking his new family more and more. Arthur also kept quiet, wary of Polly's sharp tongue, so Polly spent most of the journey filling Michael in on his Gypsy ancestry and answering his many questions.

After about an hour, they pulled into Salcey Forest and followed the same route that Tommy had. It wasn't long before they spotted Tommy's car and pulled up next to it. They all got out, glad to stretch their legs. Michael looked around. He couldn't see a camp anywhere.

"So, what now? How do we find the camp?"

Arthur replied, "Don't worry. They'll find us."

Michael looked round again. "But how? There's no one in sight. How will they know we're here?"

"They'll know. Gypsies are like that."

"So we just wait until they appear?"

"Yeah. Unless you know how to find them. Tommy knows how. He smells the air or something."

John giggled, "Yeah, Gypsies don't wash much."

Polly turned on him sharply. "They wash more than you do, John Shelby!"

John's face fell but before he could retort, three men moved in front of them from the trees. Michael gasped quietly. He had no idea where they came from.

Polly moved towards them. "Hello, Teiso."

"Polly Grey." Teiso acknowledged her with a nod and looked at the group. He recognised Arthur and John but not the other young man who stood nervously with them. "They say that when one Shelby appears the rest is sure to follow. They're not wrong, are they?"

Polly got straight to the point, "Teiso, take us to Tommy."

Teiso ignored her. "Who's he?" he asked, indicating Michael with his chin.

"That's my son, Michael."

Teiso looked at her in surprise. He didn't know she had a son, but had no reason to doubt her.

After some thought, he turned and headed into the forest. Polly, Arthur, John and Michael followed him. Teiso's men waited until they passed and brought up the rear. They reached the edge of the camp and Teiso turned to speak to Polly.

"I'll go and ask Elias."

Polly nodded, knowing they'd need his permission to enter the camp. She could see Tommy on the far side of the camp, pacing by a fire, smoking a cigarette. There was no sign of Rose but Polly spotted the domed healing tent not far from Tommy and knew she was in there.

Michael had spotted Tommy too and pointed. "There's Tommy" He made to move towards him but Polly grabbed his arm. He looked at her in surprise.

"We have to be invited into the camp. The Youngs are sticklers for tradition."

Michael nodded and waited to see what would happen next. He looked around the camp with interest. It was exactly as he'd imagined. Traditional Romani caravans, horses, camp fires, people dressed in typical Gypsy clothing – long skirts, scarves, waistcoats, neckerchiefs. As he took in the camp, he noticed the camp was also observing him. He shifted uncomfortably, realising how out of place he looked with his neat haircut and his smart clothes. He watched as an older man climbed down from a caravan and headed towards them. He guessed, from the way he carried himself and from the way the camp respectfully moved to let him through, that this was Elias Young. Polly had told him all about him on the journey down and Michael was keen to meet him.

"Remember your lines, Arthur?" John muttered as he watched Elias walk towards them. He had little time for the ancient ways, considering them old-fashioned and irrelevant.

"Been rehearsing them for the past five minutes, John. It's my big moment." Arthur, whilst a little more respectful of traditions than his brother, was impatient to get to Tommy and find out what exactly had happened to Rose.

"Shut up, you two!" Polly hissed at them under her breath. "Have some respect."

John rolled his eyes.

Elias stopped a few feet from them and looked them over, his eyes lingering a little longer on Michael

"Polly Grey, you shouldn't have come here."

"Phuro Elias, I'm sorry for not arranging this visit, but my niece is with you and isn't well. We need to know how she is."

"She's with Greeny. There's nothing you can do for her here."

"And we're very grateful that Baba Greenleaf was kind enough to agree to treat her. But she and Tommy are family, Elias. We couldn't stay at home without knowing anything. She needs us here. You know the importance of family. It will help her if we're all here. It will give her strength."

Elias couldn't deny the power of family, he believed in it very strongly. He sighed.

"I can't let him in, he's not known to me." He pointed at Michael.

"He's my son, Elias. Come back to me after many years. I want him to know this life. His father was a river gypsy."

"That's as may be, Polly, but he is unknown to me."

Michael moved to Polly's side. "It's ok, I can stay here. I don't mind."

"No, Michael, you're family…"

"Pol," Arthur interrupted her, "He's not going to let him in, you know that."

"It's fine, really. I'll stay here. I'll be ok."

Polly looked between Michael and Elias and knew that Arthur was right. Once again, she would have to choose between the Shelbys and her own family. She swore under her breath.

"Fine, Michael won't enter the camp."

Elias nodded, "Devlesa avilan, Polly Grey."

"Devlesa araklam tume."

Arthur and John each received their own greeting and responded in the correct way.

And with that they were welcomed into the camp. Michael watched as they made their way to where Tommy was, feeling slightly left out. This certainly wasn't what he was expecting when he'd left his village to discover where he came from. He definitely wasn't disappointed.

Tommy lit another cigarette. He was almost out. He'd been chain-smoking since they'd taken Rose into the tent. It probably wasn't more than a couple of hours ago but it felt like three times that long. No one would tell him anything and he was going slowly mad. It took everything he had to not burst into that tent and find out what was going on.

"Tommy"

He swung round at the familiar voice and saw not just Polly but also Arthur and John.

"What are you doing here? I didn't ask you to come."

Ignoring his rebuke, Polly grabbed his arms and looked at him worriedly. "How is she?"

"I … I don't know. They won't tell me. They took her in a couple of hours ago." He indicated the tent with his cigarette. "Why are you here?"

Polly looked sideways at John and Arthur, "Be glad it's just us and not the entire fighting arm of the Peaky Blinders."

Tommy was confused. "What?"

Arthur stepped next to him. "Never mind that, Tom. What's happened to our Rose?"

John moved close too. "Was she hurt in London, Tommy? Did Solomons hurt her? We should go down there and make him pay. I can have the boys here in no time"

Tommy was even more confused. "What? No, no, she wasn't hurt in London. Why would I bring her here if she was hurt in London? She got ill on the way home. Her lungs." His voice went quieter as he turned to Polly. "It was bad, Pol. I didn't think she'd make it home so I brought her here."

Polly rarely saw this vulnerable side to Tommy. She could see how scared he was for Rose and how guilty he felt.

She took his face in her hands. "You did the right thing. If anyone can help her, it's Greenleaf Young. I would have done the same thing."

He nodded, swallowing to keep down the tears which were rising in him. If he couldn't protect his family, then he was nothing. Polly always knew what to say to make him feel better. She was his strength, always had been – not that he'd admit that to anyone, least of all her. He was glad they were here.

"How bad is she, Tom?" Arthur looked at him concerned.

Tommy cleared his throat. "She's bad, Arthur. I've never seen her like that before. It was like the lung fever we saw in France."

Arthur blanched and John swore. It really was bad, then.

"Pneumonia. She's had it before."

The three brothers looked at Polly in surprise.

"When?" questioned Tommy.

"When you were in France. I didn't tell you in my letters. Didn't want to worry you. She was in hospital for three months and in bed at home for another three after that. She'd been out late playing with Ada and Finn. It was damp and cold and I didn't think to call them in. It came on so fast; one minute she was fine, the next she could barely breathe. I promised I'd never let that happen again. But, well, I've been a bit distracted lately. I couldn't have known she was planning to run away to London. None of us could."

She looked at Tommy, hoping for some sort of absolution from him. She didn't get it. Tommy was consumed by his own guilt. Seeing her need for comfort, Arthur put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in to him. "No, none of us saw it coming, Pol. Don't blame yourself."

"I'm going in there."

"No, Polly, you can't. They wouldn't let me in, it's a sacred place."

Polly looked at Tommy with a familiar look of determination.

"I'm her aunt. They'll have to let me in."

John, for all his frustration with the old days, was as superstitious as the next Gypsy. "Aunt Pol, it'll all go wrong if you go in there. You can't interrupt a healer."

Polly knew this but she'd not come all this way to just wait. She moved towards the tent. Tommy reached out his hand to stop her when the blanket that served as the door of the tent moved. It was flung open and Greenleaf stepped out, wiping her hands on a cloth. She smiled when she saw Polly and the brothers looking at her in barely concealed suspense.

"I thought there'd be more of you when I came out. You Shelbys lack in many things, but your family bond is one of the strongest I've ever come across. I suppose you want to know how Rose is?"