Thank you to those who took the time to review the last chapter. I wanted to clarify the timings so far. By my calculations, Rose is fourteen years and eight months old. The robbery of the Russians' jewels, the train explosion and the arrests were in July 1924. Tommy told Linda this when she was negotiating Arthur's cut. The date on the court case file in the flashback in the first episode of Season 4 is 3rd July, 1924. Season 4 begins on 23rd December, 1925, so a whole year and a bit has passed since the end of season 3. Rose has had another birthday (in April). She would have left school in July 1924 and would have been considered of working age, hence the job Tommy created for her.
The pills that Rose is taking were an actual brand of barbiturates - Veronal. Barbiturates were lauded at the time as a miracle "sleep cure" and were used widely in the treatment of insomnia, hysteria and a number of psychological illnesses. It wasn't till a few years later that their terrible side effects were discovered. It's realistic to think that Rose would have been prescribed Veronal to treat her insomnia and "hysteria". They were, of course, deeply addictive. This will be one of the many things she'll be dealing with this season.
I hope that helps to make sense of where Rose is so far. Let me know what you think of this next chapter. I really appreciate knowing how the chapters come across.
Tommy stood next to Johnny Dogs surveying the blood bath in front of him. He'd just finished giving Johnny instructions on how to dispose of the body and now took a moment before beginning the next step of the plan. He was still buzzing with adrenaline after the killing. All his anger and guilt and powerlessness had been released tonight and he felt alive again. Nothing was more important than protecting his family, whether they liked it or not, and now he was back doing what he did best. He took a deep breath.
"Right, Johnny, I'll go and wake Rose and Charlie and we'll go to Small Heath. You'll join us there tomorrow and we'll work out the next step."
Johnny reached up and scratched the back of his neck. "Well, see, Tommy – Rose isn't here."
Tommy looked at him sharply. "What?"
"No, she's at the camp. I saw her there earlier before I went to the pub."
"Of course she is. Where else would she be? I thought at least she'd be home on Christmas Eve. Though, I suppose, in her shoes, I wouldn't be either."
"Sure, Tommy, at least you know she's safe there."
"Not anymore, Johnny." He indicated the dead Italian on the floor. "Right, change of plan. You need to guard Charlie while I go and get her."
He started off down the corridor, Johnny following him.
"Why don't I go, Tommy? You can get Charlie ready."
"Johnny, I'm not entirely sure she'll come with me. She'll never go with you."
"True enough. She's a handful for sure, that one."
"So Lizzie tells me." They'd reached the stairs. "I'm going to get cleaned up then I'll need to phone Arthur and John. I want you to watch the door. Don't let anyone get close. Shoot on sight, Johnny."
"Yes, Sergeant Major."
Forty minutes later, Tommy rode back into the stables with Rose in front of him. He dismounted and helped Rose down. She didn't want his help, but Midnight was a huge horse and it was a long way down for her. She pulled away from him the minute she was on the ground. He rolled his eyes and stepped in front of her, heading towards the house.
"Come on inside, quickly."
Instead, Rose went to the other end of the stables calling for Fred. Frustrated, Tommy went after her.
"Rose! Get inside now!"
She wheeled round on him. "I am not going inside without Fred!"
Tommy opened his mouth to insist when Fred skidded round the corner and landed at Rose's feet, panting hard. Relieved, Rose made a fuss of him as Tommy looked round, alert to danger. He didn't like being out in the open.
"Right, the dog's here now. Come on."
Sighing dramatically, Rose followed Tommy to the house but stopped confused as he headed round the side of the house instead of through the back door.
"If you're in such a hurry to get inside, why aren't we going through the back door?"
"Because there's something in the kitchen you don't need to see."
"What?"
Tommy put his hand around Rose's shoulders and very firmly propelled her towards the front door. She tried to resist but his grip was vice-like.
"Tommy, what's in the kitchen?"
"A dead man."
By this time, they'd reached the door and Johnny opened it for them. Rose managed to shrug off Tommy's arm and put some distance between them. Johnny closed the door and looked between the two of them.
"Right then, Tom, I'll go and do that job for you, yeah?"
"Johnny?"
"Yeah?"
"You need to keep that boy of yours in line."
Johnny knew he was talking about Mal, but, as he felt the tension between brother and sister, he decided he didn't want to know anymore at this point.
"Right, Tom. I'll talk to him."
He quickly slunk away to the kitchen, thinking there might soon be another bloodbath right there in the hallway and he wasn't entirely sure who would come out alive.
Rose realised she wasn't even surprised that there was a dead man in the kitchen. Her face hardened as she looked at her brother.
"You dragged me back here to tell me there's a dead body in the kitchen? I'm assuming you killed him? Was it business, Tommy? Was it a deal gone wrong? Someone double-cross you?"
Tommy ran a hand through his hair. There was no time for this.
"Rose, I need you to go and pack a bag. We have to leave here as soon as possible. I'll get Charlie and meet you…"
"I don't care, Tommy! I don't care what trouble you've brought down on your head. It's nothing to do with me anymore. Kill as many people as you want. Make as much money you can. I really don't care about you or your business. I'm going back to the camp."
Rose began to march to the door but Tommy caught her arm and pulled her back. He was losing his patience. The longer they stayed there, the more danger they were in. He spoke to her quietly but firmly.
"Go and pack a bag. It's not safe for us to stay here. I'll explain on the way."
Once again, Rose pulled herself away from Tommy's grip. She stepped well away from him and glared at him. She felt the a seed of worry begin to grow inside her. He'd said they weren't safe there. She'd taken a long time to feel safe in this house after last year and now there was danger again. Would this ever end?
"I'm not going anywhere until you explain to me what is going on! I'm not a little girl anymore, Tommy. Tell me!"
Looking at her hardened face glaring at him furiously, he realised how different she now was. He hadn't looked at her properly in so long. He'd passed her in hallways and in the stables but hadn't really seen her. The scars on her face stood out angrily against her pale skin and the memory of her injured face lying still on her pillow last year hit him hard. He'd convinced himself she was better off without him, that she would only get hurt more if he didn't keep a distance from her, but he understood now that this wasn't the case at all. He saw himself in the face that was looking back at him, waiting for an answer – someone who felt they had nothing left to lose, someone who didn't trust anyone, someone who had been hurt too many times. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. Reaching into his pocket, he took out the card he'd received from the Changretta family. He opened it and handed it to Rose.
"I got that in the post today."
Rose was frowning at it. "From the Changretta family?"
"It's a Black Hand."
She looked at him, still frowning. "That's a bad thing, isn't it? An Italian Mafia thing?"
He nodded. "It's the declaration of a Vendetta. We killed Vincente and now they'll kill all of us."
Her mouth dropped open. "All of us?"
"Yes, all the family will have got one like that. None of us are safe, not even the children."
Rose's breath accelerated and fear gripped her. "That man, in the kitchen today? Peeling potatoes? He was one of them?"
Now it was Tommy's turn to feel the fear. Rose had been that close to him? Anything could have happened. He nodded.
"He's the one you killed?"
He nodded again.
"Arthur? John? Aunt Pol?"
"I've spoken to Arthur, Michael has gone to get John and Ada is with Polly now."
"Ada's home?" Rose was struggling to take it all in.
"Yes, she's home for Christmas. Didn't Lizzie tell you?"
Anger flashed in her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me? Why have I seen your secretary more than you this past year?"
Tommy sighed.
"Rose, I understand why you're angry but we don't have time now. We have to leave. Go and pack a bag – just enough for tonight and tomorrow, we can send for the rest of your things – I'll get Charlie and meet you down here. Don't go outside and stay away from the windows."
Rose nodded. She knew he was right. She turned and headed quickly for the stairs. She reached the bottom step and turned back to Tommy.
"Where are we going, Tommy?"
"To the only place we'll be safe."
She knew instantly where that was. "Small Heath."
"That's right. Go on now, be quick."
She turned and ran up the stairs, wondering what on earth was happening. The whole family back in Small Heath? This was a disaster waiting to happen.
Tommy parked the car in front of number six. Charles had fallen asleep again, leaning against Rose who had an arm around him to keep him warm. Fred sat at her feet. He was relieved when the car stopped; he didn't like cars. Tommy picked up Charles and headed towards the door of the house whilst Rose climbed down from the passenger side. She noted the Peaky men who were posted outside the house and on the other side of the road. She was glad to see them. Moving round the car to the now open front door, Rose took in the familiar smells and sounds of Small Heath. She wasn't sure how she felt at being back.
Closing the door behind her, she looked around. This was her childhood home and as the memories and sensations of those years came back to her, they felt like the memories of a different person. She wasn't the same Rose who had grown up in this house. She didn't think she ever would be again. It was dark and cold and she went into the kitchen to light the fire and turn on the lights. Tommy had taken Charles up to bed and Fred was sniffing round the unfamiliar surroundings. He caught the scent of his mistress all over this place and that pleased him.
Rose had boiled some water and made a pot of tea by the time Tommy came down. He watched from the bottom of the stairs as she moved around the kitchen and took a deep breath before he joined her there. She turned when he entered, looked away quickly and poured a cup of tea from the teapot. Tommy sat at the table and cleared his throat.
"Charlie's fast asleep."
She put the tea cup in front of him.
"That's good."
He took a sip. It was strong and hot, just as he liked it. She watched him, feeling awkward – like she was alone with a stranger. She spoke just to break the silence.
"Are the others here?"
"Arthur and Linda are in his old house, Polly's in hers, Ada and Karl are down the road. Michael should be at John's soon. He'll bring them here."
She nodded. She'd run out of conversation.
"Sit down, Rose."
She gripped the back of the chair. She didn't want a family chat by the fire. Being back in Watery Lane was making her anxious and she wanted to sleep. She picked up her bag.
"I'm tired, Tommy. I'm going to bed."
"Rose…"
She'd already started for the stairs. "Good night, Tommy."
Tommy sat back in his chair and listened to her footsteps climb the stairs followed by the sound of Fred's paws quickly following her. He frowned as he looked into his teacup. He'd never known her this distant, this damaged. Why hadn't he noticed it sooner? He put the cup back on its saucer and stood up. He needed a different kind of drink.
Rose leaned against the bedroom door after she'd closed it behind her. Nothing had changed here – her bed under the window, her bedspread with the yellow and orange flowers was the same, the pale yellow wallpaper, the ragdoll which sat on the chair at the end of the bed, Ada's bed along the other wall. Tommy had lit a small fire in the grate of her fireplace and she was grateful for his thoughtfulness. She almost went back downstairs to thank him but instead pushed herself off the door and moved over to her bed where Fred had already jumped up. Putting her bag down, she took out her nightgown and quickly changed into it. She'd forgotten how draughty it was in the house and shivered as she pulled it over her head. Nipping quickly to the bathroom, she returned to her room and took her bottle of pills out of the bag. She swallowed two and put the lid back on. Kneeling on the floor, she felt along the wall behind her bed until she found the loose piece of skirting board. Pulling it out, she tucked the pill bottle in the cavity behind it and replaced the skirting board. It was her secret hidey-hole. She had hidden all her treasures in there – pennies she'd found in the street, hair ribbons she'd stolen from girls at school, a cufflink which she'd taken from Tommy's room just to see if she could. Now her pills were the most precious things she had, the things she couldn't live without. And she knew, from the look in Tommy's eye tonight, that if he found them now he would destroy them. She wouldn't let that happen. Feeling them take effect, Rose pulled back the covers and got into her old bed. She had spent many hours awake in this bed after many a nightmare, but not this night. Rose was asleep in minutes, Fred curled beside her as usual, the barbiturates doing their job of stifling her consciousness and disarming her emotions as she let go of the reality which hurt so much.
Tommy didn't go to bed. One of his men had brought a fully decorated Christmas tree round at one point. Tommy had asked for one so that Charles would find his presents there when he woke up. He didn't ask where it came from. He suspected that man's family would be wondering where their tree had gone in the morning. Christmas Day dawned bright and clear and he was about to put his head down for a couple of hours when the phone in the shop rang.
Rose was petrified to be suddenly ripped out of her sleep by Tommy. She had no idea where she was or what was happening. Her heart raced and she battled against the drugs inside her trying to pull her back into sleep. Tommy was speaking to her urgently and she followed the sound of his voice to a vague level of alertness.
"Rose, Rose! Wake up. Can you hear me? Rose!"
Rose answered shakily.
"Tommy, what are you doing? Get off me."
Tommy held her by her shoulders and looked into her face, trying desperately to get through to her.
"Mouse, listen to me. I have to go out. You need to watch Charlie, ok? Can you hear me?"
"Yes, yes, ok. But why Tommy? Where are you going?"
She was able to focus on his face now and what she saw scared her. He looked in shock and distraught.
"I have to go. Don't go back to sleep, ok? You have to watch Charles."
"Ok, ok, I will. But Tommy…"
Tommy was already at the door and looked back at her. "I'll explain when I get back."
And with that he was gone. Rose stared at the open door and something occurred to her. She called after him.
"It's Christmas morning!"
She heard the front door slam and the house was silent. Fred, who had been fidgeting nervously when Tommy had woken her up so rigorously, nudged her with his head, wanting reassurance. Rose stroked his soft head and blinked, trying to stay awake.
"What's going on, Fred?"
Fred didn't have an answer.
Later that morning, Rose was sat in the front room watching Charles play with the one present she had allowed him to open. He had woken up so excited and Rose had had to make up a reason why his daddy wasn't there on Christmas morning. As she looked at his sad little face, she felt such anger towards Tommy. She knew this little boy would grow up going through what she had – adoring the man who raised him, wanting to spend time with him and make him proud before slowly coming to the realisation that nothing would be more important in Tommy's life than his own ambition.
She watched Charles play with the exquisite and clearly expensive toy horse he'd just received. She reached into the pocket of her cardigan and took out the little galloping horse Mal had made for her. Once again, she felt her heart yearn for the freedom which was so well carved into the figure. She wondered what Mal was doing now. How would he be celebrating Christmas? Johnny's family was supposed to be eating their Christmas meal at Arrow House but that mansion was now empty. Would Mal be wondering where she was? Would he be worried about her? She thought about his hair which fell so messily in front of his bright eyes and smiled a little. Charles made her jump as he suddenly appeared in front of her.
"My horse is bigger than your horse."
"Yes, it is, Charlie."
"My horse is better than yours. Look – mine has a white nose and and its hooves are shiny black and its tail and mane are real hair. Yours is just wood."
"But my horse is special."
Charles looked at her curiously. "Why?"
"Because my horse doesn't have to live in a stable or wait for someone to bring her food or have to wear a saddle or a bridle. My horse lives in the forest and goes wherever she wants to and eats whenever she wants. She's free, no one owns her."
"But how will you race her? She needs a trainer and a rider."
"No, she doesn't. She happier on her own. She doesn't want to race."
Charles frowned at her. He didn't understand. He turned and looked at the other presents which were under the tree. Rose had been surprised to find a tree in the room when she came down. She suspected Tommy had arranged it somehow for Charles.
"When will Daddy be back? I want to open my presents."
Rose sighed. "Soon, Charlie. Are you hungry? Do you want some food?"
Charles nodded and went back to playing with his horse on the floor. Rose stood up.
"I'll go and get you something. Be careful of the fire, ok?"
Rose went to the kitchen, having no clue if there was any food in the cupboards. She had just opened the first one when she heard the door of the shop open. Turning round, she saw Tommy, Arthur and Lizzie walking towards her.
She moved towards them angrily. "Where the hell have you been, Tommy? That child in there has been asking for his daddy so he can open his presents on Christmas morning. What was I supposed to tell him? Hey? That even on Christmas Day, his daddy would rather do business then spend time with his family?"
Tommy, Arthur and Lizzie just stood and looked at her. She felt the world shift. Something was terribly wrong. Lizzie looked at Tommy.
"I'll go and watch Charles."
She looked back at Rose with a pitying look and went to the front room closing the door behind her. Rose looked between her brothers and was filled with dread. Tommy indicated a chair.
"Rose, sit down."
She didn't move. She didn't want to sit down at all. She wanted to take her pills and sleep and not be here. Tommy ran a hand over his face and Arthur looked down as he gripped the back of the chair in front of him. She hesitated to ask what was going on because she knew that once she found out, things would never be the same again. There, in that moment of not knowing, was safety. The next words spoken would be the squeezing of the trigger. Tommy spoke those words.
"It's John."
Her throat was dry. "What about John?"
Arthur shifted his feet, still looking at the floor. "He's been shot."
Rose flinched as if she had heard the gunshot. She spoke fast, her words falling over each other.
"But he's ok, isn't he? He's in the hospital. That's where you had to rush off to this morning, isn't it, Tommy? To the hospital? Did they operate on him? How is he?"
She took a deep breath, having run out as she peppered her brothers with questions. She watched Arthur look at Tommy and heard his breath hitch. She watched Tommy look at her with such sadness it was unbearable. He opened his mouth to speak and she wished she could stop time. She didn't want him to say anything. But time marched on regardless and ruthlessly broke her heart.
"John's dead, Rose."
She frowned, not wanting to comprehend. "What?"
"I'm sorry, Mouse. The Italians got to his house just after Michael did. Michael's in the hospital but … John's dead."
Rose shook her head. "No, no, he's not. You've got it wrong. He … I saw him last week. He came round to see me. Him and Esme are having a party at theirs for New Year. They're having everyone round. Even you, Tommy. So, you see? He can't be dead…"
Her voice broke into a sob at this last word and she took in a big gulp of air. She felt detached from reality and all she could do was stare at Tommy, waiting for him to fix this, to tell her it wasn't true, that everything was fine. But he didn't. He took a step towards her, reaching out a hand to her. She took a step backwards, then turned abruptly and, throwing the back door open, ran outside, Fred at her heels. Tommy and Arthur moved quickly after her. They couldn't have her running away, not with the Italians so close.
Rose stumbled slightly as she rushed towards the outhouse. She kept her balance, but didn't manage to open the door in time and, holding the wall, leant over and vomited. Then she vomited again. And again - until all she could do was retch. Fred was stood close to her, barking. He didn't understand what was happening but he knew something was wrong with her. Tommy spoke to him firmly in Roma and he immediately sat down, whining and licking his chops nervously. Tommy moved slowly towards Rose and gently put a hand on her back. She stood up quickly and violently knocked his arm away. She moved backwards away from him until she bumped into the wall of the back yard. Tommy watched her, shocked. She raised her arm and pointed a finger at him. Her voice shook as she spoke to him furiously.
"You did this, Thomas. You – with your greed and your power and your business. You may not have pulled the trigger but you killed him."
Arthur shook his head. "Rosie…"
"No, Arthur, it's true. You know it's true." She looked back at Tommy, fire in her eyes. "You're cursed, Thomas Shelby. Everywhere you go, you bring danger and violence and death to those who love you. You've ruined us. You will ruin Charlie. And now …"
She was crying unrestrained now and was struggling to speak. Tommy stared at her, open mouthed. He felt her anger as an almost physical assault.
"… now, John's gone. He's our John and he's …"
She looked around her, feeling trapped. She needed to get away. Arthur recognised the look and reached the back gate just before she did. He caught her as she launched herself toward it. She struggled in his grasp. She was crying and hitting him, desperately trying to make him move.
"Let me go, Arthur. Let me go! I want to leave."
Arthur held her firmly but gently, pulling her against him, giving her less and less space to fight.
"No, Rosie, you can't go. It's not safe. It's ok, sweetheart, it's ok. I've got you, girl. You're ok."
All of a sudden the fight left her and she collapsed in Arthur's arms. Her legs buckled, her hands covered her face, her head fell into his chest and she wept uncontrollably. Great wracking sobs which shuddered throughout her whole body. Arthur held her up effortlessly, embracing her, allowing her to do what she needed to. She muttered through her sobs.
"He's our John. Our John..."
"I know, I know, love. He'll always be our John."
Tommy watched his little sister fall apart with grief and was barely able to hold it together himself. He didn't know how much more she could take, how much more they all could take. This death would rip the family apart if he wasn't careful.
Eventually, Rose went quiet and still, spent and empty. She leaned against Arthur for a while who kept hold of her tightly. Both brothers were silent. What was there left to say? Then Rose pushed herself away from Arthur and walked quickly back into the house, not looking at either of them. They followed her, wondering if she was heading for another exit. But they watched her climb the stairs and head for her room. Arthur went over to the sideboard and poured them both a whiskey. They'd seen a lot of grief in their time, but that had been difficult to watch.
In her room, Rose knelt by the bed and pulled out her bottle of pills. She shook three of them into her palm and tipped them in her mouth. Replacing the bottle in its hiding place, she crawled into bed, waiting for unconsciousness. Fred jumped up beside her, snuggling as close as he could. Rose pulled her knees up and held her arms around her waist. She didn't want to feel this anymore. She didn't want to feel anything. In fact, her head spinning as she fell into a stupor, she thought it would be nice if she didn't wake up at all.