Charlie opened the door to Tatiana's room the next morning at around exactly the same time as before. This time, she was expecting him and she was not wearing a nightdress.
She had made quite am impression yesterday in front of the women when she finally let herself go. More like, she let go of a duchess' manners, and renounced a duchess' wardrobe for good.
Her hair was let loose, the curls draping down her back highlighting her natural beauty. While she used to pin it up when she had her status, she now wore her hair with a half-up braid in a classic style. It was Ada's idea. All part of her getting accustomed to the Brummie lifestyle.
As for her dress, it was simple, cream-colored…Ada's of course. Nothing special. Tatiana called it a peasant's dress just to annoying the Shelby sister.
But despite the small jabs between them, Tatiana believed that she and Ada finally understood each other. Neither of them would be pushed around by anyone, and with a little effort, they would get along just fine someday.
The little blonde boy pushed his face forward when the door opened and Tatiana welcomed him inside with a smile. She was starting to enjoy his presence, especially when his father was not around. The women around the house knew only how to annoy her with the buzzing about.
Tatiana loved Christmas, of course, but she never dreamed that she would be put to work in actually preparing the house for the holidays. Everything had always been done for her. It was her birthday, after all.
Polly had given her several tasks and when she complained, all she got was that this was what it meant to be a true Brum girl.
Ada tried to explain to her aunt that no birthday girl would actually want to work on her birthday, but no luck. Tatiana at least appreciated her effort and tried to play nice.
As for Charlie, he was now sitting with her on the bed, showing her some more of his toys, telling her the names of all of his dad's horses in Birmingham and London. Tatiana listened closely and tried to memorize the names. They were all too complex for her.
When the boy finally wanted her to tell him something new, Tatiana talked about her cars. How she valued each and every one of them. Charlie listened quietly, his excitement dying down, but he never once stopped calling her "Ana".
It was adorable to listen, and Tatiana never once tried to explain to him her actual name.
At one point during their conversation, Tatiana got to thinking about Tommy. Was he in another business meeting? He would never tell her either way. Deciding it was worth a shot, she decided to ask Charlie.
"Do you know where your daddy is?"
The young boy just shrugged, holding onto his toys, sitting on her bed and his feet moving in agitation.
Giving him a small hug, Tatiana whispered, "Does he often leave you home alone?"
"Yes. But now Daddy wants me to stay with you, Ana." he finally told her, causing quite a shock on behalf of the Russian woman.
"Oh?"
Did he now? Tommy was getting his son to visit her everyday? Was that his strategy to get her to warm up around children? And what did he think was going to happen?
She would keep the child in her belly and they would all live happily ever after?
It would never be that way and Tatiana knew it well. One way or another, one of them would make a mistake. They would fight, the child would have to suffer. It wouldn't be right.
Tatiana had wanted a proper marriage, to a man whom she loved, but who could also offer her wealth and power. Never did she think of giving birth to a gangster's child and then being stuck in his family for the rest of her life, never actually belonging to a man body and soul, but watching the father of her child parade around other women.
Her aunt did teach her a thing or two about poison and Tatiana was certain that she would not hesitate to use some of it on any woman that would waltz into her life, groping Thomas Shelby in front of her, and try to take over the welfare of her child.
Despite what Tommy often said about Russians, Tatiana did have a sense of morality. She would have never tried to force herself into his life as 'the other woman', forming a relationship with Charlie, if his wife had still been alive. However, she was certain that other women had no such restraint.
A knock on her door brought Tatiana out of her trance. Speak of the devil. Tommy did not have his glasses on this time, probably trying not to scare her out of her wits like the last time.
"Charlie. What are you doing here?" Tommy asked, trying to sound serious, as he placed his hands behind his back, but Tatiana recognized the amusement in his voice.
The little boy looked at his father, confused. "I'm with Ana. Like you told me."
"Go on. Off to play. Karl is looking for you." Tommy was sending him off again.
Tatiana glanced down at Charlie in an apologetic manner. She would have loved to have him around more that morning but she knew that she needed to have a few private words with his father.
Charlie waved goodbye to her and called her Ana again. Tommy said nothing, probably having already gotten used to the situation, but Tatiana hadn't.
And she was not about to let him trick her into keeping their baby.
Standing up with her arms crossed over her chest, Tatiana said, "Your boy is good company, but that won't change my mind. I know what you are doing. You can't keep me locked up forever and someday, I will get myself out, and I will end the pregnancy."
Her words did not affect him at all. It was like he was not taking her seriously, as if he already knew that she would keep the baby and was now simply playing a game, as he knew all Russians used to do.
Tatiana noticed how he was itching to get himself a cigarette from the suit pocket but restrained himself. It bothered her that he was now refusing to smoke or even drink in front of her.
Another tactic. Playing the concerned father, trying to get her to warm up to the idea of having the baby.
"The dress." He remarked, pointing to it and nodding approvingly. "Looks nice."
"Are you going to comment on my choices every morning? Do I need your approval?" Tatiana snapped at him.
"No. I was just trying to tell you that you look beautiful." Tommy replied, softer than usual. His voice was enchanting.
She was never going to admit it but when Tatiana first heard it, she was almost certain that her feet melted.
It was a voice which inspired fear, power, care and wisdom at the same time. She loved it. She loved hearing him speak about what he felt, about his passions, his plans for business.
But this time, he was using that silver tongue of his to woe her, get her to be calm, at peace in his presence and this house.
A house in which she was constantly stuck in, but it was not his home. It was his aunt's. He kept saying that he would move her in with him and Charlie, but it wasn't happening, despite Aunt Polly's pleas.
Tatiana knew the reason. He was still trying to keep a distance between them. She was pregnant with his child, nothing more and nothing less. But he was using her newfound relationship with Charlie to kick in her maternal instincts.
One way or another, she would stop this little game of his, or start making some decisions all on her own.
"How are the Christmas preparations going? Polly tells me you're excited." Tommy asked, changing the subject.
"There is barely any snow. Is it always this way here?" Tatiana complained.
Tommy clicked his tongue and responded, "Yes. We're used to it. I imagine there was a lot of snow in Russia."
"Winter in Russia…it is paradise." Tatiana told him with a genuine smile on her face, tilting her head in an adorable way. But the sadness in her eyes appear involuntarily after.
"As long as I lived there, it was wonderful."
Stepping closer to her, Tommy stated, "Birmingham can be wonderful." It was more of a promise, a promise that it could be, if the family pulled together to make it so.
"We have a tradition in our family. Swapping gifts. Is there something you would like for Christmas?"
"I think I would like a book. The Taming of the Shrew I think it's called." The sarcasm in her voice was not overlooked.
It only amused Tommy. His half smile and his pensive look as he glanced up at the ceiling made Tatiana furious.
"Ah. Told you about that, did she? My sister?" he asked, scratching the back of his ear, nervously.
"Am I really that bad?" Tatiana asked him and not with her usual smug look or fakeness in her voice. She was not playing, or mocking him. She really wanted to know.
"No…Ada just spends too much of her time in the public library. Bored with this vendetta, the poor girl. She wouldn't dare get involved. Participates only in the legitimate family business… our branch in Boston. But loves to spend the rest of her time supporting the communists."
"What?"
The information had sunk in well enough for Tatiana. Ada was already on thin ice. The girl was supporting communists too? She made a mental note to bring it up later. The last thing she wanted right now was to hear about communist ideals during her stay.
Communism was the reason she was in this mess to begin with. Tommy realized the mistake he made when mentioning Ada's idealism and decided to get back on the subject of the Christmas festivities.
"Granted, I do not fully understand the Russian Christmas traditions, however I would like to make it clear that there will be no Russian Roulette among the permitted games." Tommy didn't waste any time in throwing in another insult towards her about her nationality.
Tatiana scoffed, now realizing that they might not have made any progress at all, even after all that she explained yesterday, having revealed to him her own sister's tragic end. Nothing would matter to Tommy. He would never look at her any differently because she was Russian…and he despised Russians.
Still, Tatiana offered a reasonable answer, not caring enough to insult him back on his own English habits.
"It is liberating. Makes you feel alive. But I never try it on my birthday." She whispered. Her birthday was meant to be a happy occasion. And now, thinking about how her sister was shot dead, Tatiana was more reluctant to do anything that would mean death.
"You should never fucking try it at all!" Tommy snapped, his anger increasing with every minute that passed.
Their eyes locked and Tatiana noticed the strangeness behind them. There was something…something he would not tell her. He hardly blinked and it was making her nervous.
He was impulsive and at times, she thought that he might pounce aggressively, try to put her in her place, using physical force. But Ada's voice rang in her mind, when she told her at the hospital that Tommy was not like other men. He would never do that. He would never hit a woman.
"Why not?" She figured it was her one chance to ask and probably find out.
"My own mother pressed a gun to her head and shot herself." Tommy murmured, no emotion in his voice.
Tatiana furrowed her eyebrows and asked, "In a game?"
"Suicide." Tommy replied as if it was something quite obvious.
She noticed the pain in his eyes even though the word was stated with fake indifference. The way he spoke, it was like he was trying to show her how much of a monster he can turn into. It was something she didn't believe.
His icy blue eyes stayed glued on her when she stepped towards him until they were head to head. She had told him about her father, her mother and her sister.
Now, somehow he had found a way to share something with her, something about how his mother passed on to the next world.
"You were a small child, no?" Tatiana guessed, putting her hand right over his heart in an attempt to comfort him.
He didn't move, his eyes didn't wonder. He just continued to stare at her, giving a curt nod.
"She is in God's hands." She whispered to him like a devout Orthodox.
"I don't believe in God." Tommy responded almost immediately, taking a hold of her hand and pushing it away slowly. "I'm late for a meeting."
He then turned around and walked to the door, in a hurry.
"Wait." Tatiana tried to stop him. "Tommy!" But he slammed the door behind him and left in a hurry. She stopped in her tracks and didn't rush after him. There was no point.
For Thomas Shelby, business came first, but this wasn't about business. This was about his inability to handle the truth, nor accept any comfort from her.
…
Bonnie and Goliath were scheduled to fight that morning. Michael was in charge of handling everything. The ring, the participants, the bets. Passionate fans from all over Birmingham were attending, eagerly placing their bets.
It was a full crowd. Birmingham businessmen were accompanied by wives or whores. The booze was pouring from all over, and the Jews were silently making their way backstage to encourage their young man.
Tommy was eying Bonnie and his father already in the ring. Aberama was giving his son instructions, even though he didn't know whit about boxing.
Smoke was let loose from Tommy's mouth, swirling around his head. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the cigarette and the noise made by the men who were all too ready for the fight to begin. It was better than having to remember the conversation he had with Tatiana.
"Shelby Company Limited will get some good money out of this." Michael remarked, when he showed Tommy the takings.
"Good. We offer Bonnie Gold a service, he should be able to repay in full with interest. He's a Peaky Blinder now. The vendetta has kept us focused on shady dealings. But our business still has to thrive, Michael. We are losing control of London. I can feel it." Tommy explained, taking another puff of smoke, his eyes glued to the ring, watching Bonnie jump around, getting in shape.
"What's wrong?" Michael asked when he noticed that Tommy hadn't even bothered to look at him, much less what he was showing him.
Sighing, Tommy shook his head and said, "You just focus on today, Michael. Keep Bonnie Gold on top and Shelby Company Limited will thrive once more. With skill from your part, you can ensure we cover our losses."
Not buying any of it, Michael stepped in Tommy's line of vision and faced his cousin without fear.
"Look, Tommy, I get that I'm not John or Arthur…but you can talk to me. I want to help."
"You want to help, eh? Then how about you come up with a plan to get Finn back from the Italians?"
And there it was. Finn Shelby's capture had taken a toll on all of them, but Tommy felt it the most.
"My mum told me that we have good leverage. Audrey Changretta is a good bargaining chip. They won't hurt Finn. Not when we can kill the only family Luca has left." Michael stated, not in a calming sort of way.
He was a good young man, desperate to keep the family together, especially after what happened months before, when he, Arthur, John and Polly went to the gallows and almost never came back.
Michael was the only one who truly forgave him for what happened. Not only that, but he also believed that Tommy's reasoning was good enough for them to be sent to prison. In the end, it was all business. And he did promise to get them all out, and he did.
Unfortunately for him, Polly, Arthur and John would never see it that way.
Tommy patted his cousin on the shoulder and nodded, "Yeah. That's right, Michael."
The hollering of the crowd brought them back to reality. The match was starting. Bonnie and Goliath were facing each other in the ring.
Looking in the front row, Tommy noticed Polly, John, Arthur, Linda, Lizzie and Marie. Ada had offered to stay behind and watch over Tatiana, as well as the kids. The former duchess was still not to be trusted with her own life or with the life of her unborn child.
Tommy's fear that Tatiana would do away with the baby and then disappear persisted. He needed that woman watched. And of course, let's not forget about Audrey Changretta, who was also cooped up in Polly's home. Four of Marie Kimber's Brum Boys were left in charge of guarding her.
It was important to mention to them that the old woman was not to be harmed, regardless of how they felt about the Italians. As long as they had Finn, Tommy needed assurance that he had a good bargaining chip, like Michael said.
At that precise moment, the match had started and Tommy noticed Alfie Solomons scurrying inside and heading to the backstage when everyone was distracted.
"Handle the bets, Michael. If anything is out of place, tell Arthur and John. We'll talk later." Tommy told him, giving him a final pat on the back before heading back there. He and Alfie had some talking to do.
On the way to the back room, Tommy could hear all the men screaming, all the women cheering and one of them saying, "That Bonnie better win, or the Blinders will scratch the fuckin' eyes out of that Jew."
That wasn't the consequence if Goliath did manage to win. The Jews were the Blinders' allies in the vendetta…or so they claimed. Having their man win could seal the alliance.
But Bonnie Gold winning meant that Shelby Company Limited could pay off all debts and get back on top. It would be good for the legitimate business. Not to mention, Aberama Gold and his lot of assassins would be forever grateful, and might even offer to kill Luca Changretta for free.
As soon as Tommy got to the back room, he saw Alfie sitting there with his cane, his eyes closed and a frown showing.
"What a fuckin' ruckus! Can't hear meself think, mate!" Alfie exclaimed, somehow knowing it was Tommy who just walked in, without even opening his eyes.
"It's the excitement. It's good for business, Alfie. These men get excited, they get drunk, place more bets." Tommy exclaimed, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it up.
When Alfie opened his eyes, he glanced at his somewhat good friend and pointed out, "You ain't wearing them spectacles?"
"Just when I need to read. My son doesn't like them very much, so I try to keep them on as little as possible."
"Oh yeah, your son. And another one on the way?" Alfie asked.
"Maybe. I don't know."
Alfie watched him puff the smoke out of his mouth and noticed how the man leaned his head back against the wall, tired.
"I tell you, a small girl is what you need. Got them pretty eyes lookin' up at you. Warms you like fuckin' tea."
"And you would know that how? Got a girl of yer own?" Tommy asked, curious. Alfie never talked about having kids, not even any woman he had in his life.
"Had a wife. She died. A fuckin' sickness took her away. No kids. Wish I had 'em though. Better than havin' no one but Ollie to talk to. He's a good lad but you know…soft in the head." The Jew explained, scratching his beard as he noticed Tommy puffing away, almost out of control.
They sat there in silence, listening to the crowds cheering from outside. They had no clue what round they were on, but from what Tommy could gather, Bonnie was winning.
He finished off his cigarette, closed his eyes and let the final round of smoke come out of his mouth, before leaning back and mumbling, "Honestly, Alfie…I don't know what I want. The woman who is carrying my child, the Russian duchess…she's complicated. She doesn't want to have the baby…doesn't want to be tied with me. Why would she? She was a Royal duchess, with high standards. Now, she's sitting in a house of gangsters…in fuckin' Birmingham."
"You're just stuck in yer head, mate. Got to get some of that family energy, after you deal with the Americans. The men with the…um… them badges, the fucking sterlings, are no help?"
"We agreed no police. Italians handle vendettas with honor."
"They took your brother. What's fuckin' honorable about that, eh?" Alfie asked.
Tommy didn't answer. He just continued to smoke his cigarette, Alfie eying him constantly. They were business partners, not quite friends…there were no friends in this business. But Tommy could confide in him sometimes, with what he felt, about the vendetta, about Tatiana, about the whole shit he was in.
But since they were not really friends, another question raised to mind. One which Tommy had the balls to ask directly.
Pointing a finger at him, Tommy asked, "The real question is, Alfie, which side are you playing for, eh?"
That question only seemed to release a chuckle out of Alfie's lips.
"Fucking hell. What kind of world is it to bring up children when your own mate can ask you that question, eh?"
Tommy smiled and shook his head. He knew Alfie Solomons changed his ways depending on where the wind blew. Could never be trusted this Jew of his. But someone like Thomas Shelby was prepared for betrayal. He had backup plans to his backup plans.
Alfie continued talking, getting all melancholic about their future. "But the truth is, Tommy, you're going to be fucking dead soon, yeah. Then your starlings, right, they will peck out your blue eyes, won't they? And the jackdaws, they will steal your gold and your medals and pretty soon it'll be as if it never even fucking happened, mate."
The match was finished and the roaring applause from the spectators could be heard. Bonnie Gold's name was ringing all around. Goliath had lost.
Alfie said nothing as he stood up and got his cane, seeming unaffected by the result, or he was not showing.
Tommy made sure to remind him of the first conversation they had before the vendetta with the Italians had started. "Just remember, Alfie. You can have your rum imported in many other places, not just New York."
"I'll remember that, mate. Yeah, I will. I will." Alfie responded, heading out.
…
The elegantly dressed lady stepped into a mud pit as soon as she got off her boat in Small Heath. The Cut was cold and God forbid anyone who falls in it.
Charlie's Yard was the destination, where Curly was working on preparing the stables.
"Hello, Curly." she said curtly, when she saw that he was picking up horse shit with a shovel. The man looked up, surprised, and replied, "Oh, hello."
May Carleton was greeted by Charlie Strong as well.
Cutting right to the chase, she stated, "I'm here to collect Mr. Shelby's horse. I'm a little early, I think."
She had been contacted by Tommy a couple of days ago. Business had to be moving forward. And May Carleton knew what a racehorse needed.
"Are you going to train the horse to race?" Curly asked her.
"Yes." May responded, calmly.
"Don't use a crop, she's very gentle." He instructed her and the way he glanced in her direction made May believe that he was being serious.
"I won't." she promised with a small smile. Tommy did say that Curly cared a great deal for all the horses that were bought. Treated them like family.
"So, how…um…how is Mr Shelby?" May asked him, revealing why she had really come back to Birmingham.
Not only to train Tommy's new filly, but also to find out how he was doing, now that his wife was gone. Grace's death had been all over the papers and May knew that with her gone, maybe, just maybe, she stood a chance to take her place by his side.
May wanted him. She wanted to have some excitement back into her life again. Her husband's death had left a hole in her heart that could not easily be filled.
She had a feeling that someone like Thomas Shelby could. And she had the money and the influence to keep him interested.
"Well, now he's got the Americans after him, he's a bit hard on people." Curly explained.
"The Americans?" May asked, incredulously.
"Yeah, they call them the Mafia."
"Dear God." May's mind was already working on what she could do to help him.
"Yeah, there's a whole lot of them. Yeah, they want to kill us all, but we got guns and grenades and, and Polly's back…so it's gonna be okay, yeah." Curly told her, sounding a little too optimistic, given the circumstances.
"I see." May whispered, thinking about how she could use this information to her advantage.
"I'll get the horse." Curly went off, leaving May to think about what she would say to Tommy, when she would see him again. Most importantly, would he want to resume what they had?
…
Aberama Gold was more than pleased to have a boxing champion for a son. Michael had handled the matter well and the gypsy assassins were now prepared to fight with the Peaky Blinders until the end.
Tommy shook on it, and promised to award Aberama and his family when the vendetta was over and done with.
Polly had commented that he was too optimistic to think that this would all end well for them.
"Now, on to a greater matter. Get to the shops before they close. You're in charge of the Christmas presents for the women." Polly told Tommy, Arthur and John when they were heading out.
A groan escaped Arthur's lips, "Come on, Pol…"
At the same time, Tommy mumbled, "I'm busy."
John said nothing, his mind focussed on something else entirely. Or more likely a certain someone. The young and beautiful barmaid from the Garrison, Emily Wright. Her round almost baby face, rosy cheeks, green eyes. Those full lips…he would spend all his time kissing those lips, if only she would let him.
He had made his mark that night at the pub when he protected her from a madman still affected by the war. No one was allowed to touch John Shelby's woman. She didn't like it…not while he was still married. She continued to tell him that, as he was embracing her.
John thought that after bringing the kids over to meet her, she would have been more inclined to accept the idea of them all together. But something was pulling her back. Did she not want him as badly as he wanted her? Did she not see herself having a future with a Blinder?
"Not a word about it! Go on! I'll see you all later." Polly warned them, pushing her finger in Arthur's chest, to make a point.
Linda, Lizzie and Marie followed Polly to the cars. Despite the pause in the vendetta, the streets were still unsafe for them. Following Tommy's advice, they would return home to a very grumpy former duchess and a stressed out Ada.
"Fuckin' gifts." Arthur mumbled, pissed off.
"What Polly wants, Polly gets. You know that, Arthur. Let's go." Tommy said, checking his pocket watch.
He did have a rather important business meeting. May Carleton was expecting him to grant payment for training his filly, sign all the paperwork, and from their telephone conversation, Tommy was certain that she wanted to discuss some other…personal matters.
"You got business?" John asked, noticing his brother's concentration on that pocket watch, as they started moving.
Tommy placed the pocket watch back to where it was and said, "It can wait."
"Gotta get your missus somethin'. It's her birthday, ain't it?" Arthur stated, looking at Tommy expectantly.
"It's what she says. And she's not my missus, Arthur." Tommy replied, already bored with the conversation.
At the same time, John laughed at Arthur's comment, saying, "The fuck you talkin' about?" and slapped him on the back.
It was no secret that neither Arthur nor John had forgotten the shit the Russians had put them through that night they spent at Buckingham Palace while they were working for Churchill and the White Movement.
While John remembered having the time of his life, taking in all those drugs, the great drinks, all the cigars he smoked, the music, Arthur could only remember the way Tatiana and her aunt had humiliated him, by analysing his balls.
As uncomfortable as it had been for Arthur, he didn't hold a grudge against the former duchess, especially now that she was being integrated in the family.
The boys passed by some sweet shops they knew. Getting something sweet was always a lady's pleasure in Small Heath. Then there were fur coats for those with more money than God, and of course jewellery.
"No charge, Mr. Shelby!" The owners of the sweet shops said as the Shelby brothers picked out their favourites.
They were all supposed to say that, show the appropriate respect to the leaders of the Peaky Blinders. Tommy, however, insisted on handing out some coin. The shopkeeper bowed his head in gratitude and took the coin. Tommy had always been generous to the civilians, and he would continue to do so.
Generosity earned friends and friends meant influence. Influence gave them power and power at this point meant everything. Whenever foreigners decided they want to mess with the Peaky Blinders and come to Birmingham, Tommy was certain that none of the good people of the city would help them or say anything to compromise his organization.
Arthur packed up the sweets in his hands, all wrapped in pretty paper, grumbling some curses for being put to this kind of work, and heading out.
"Linda'll want furs. Whole lot of 'em. Nothin' cheap." The eldest Shelby brother complained.
Looking over at John, Arthur smirked and asked, "You thinking about the pretty barmaid, eh John? Gonna get her somethin' nice?"
The talk about Emily got Tommy's attention. He glanced over to see John's reaction and seeing a genuine smile on his brother's face, Tommy figured that maybe it was time to say something.
"John. What of Esme? Is she gone?" he suddenly asked, lighting himself a cigarette, as they walked.
His younger brother glanced towards him, his eyebrows raised, and simply mumbled, "Hmm, yeah, she went away. Took Henry and David with her."
"And now you think the best course of action is to have the barmaid take her place."
"Her name is Emily! Emily Wright!" John exclaimed, stopping in his tracks and pointing his finger accusingly at Tommy.
"You told me it was fine. You said…you said I could have her. You said you would fucking accept her if I decided…"
"I never said that, John. When the Lee brothers turned their backs on us, I didn't give a fuck if you wanted to ruin your marriage or not. It was up to you. Now you've made a decision, to get close to this barmaid…and I imagine soon enough you'll want to present her to the family."
"What of it, hm?" John challenged.
Tommy leaned in closer to his brother so he could whisper without having other people on the streets listen in to their conversation.
"We don't know anything about her. I asked Jeremiah to find out more, and got some other boys to do some digging. Birmingham is ours…we need to know everything about everyone here. I know nothing about her. That makes me nervous. And this is not a time for me to be nervous, do you understand, John?"
"She's from America."
"Is that all she said?" Tommy asked with a mocking smile. His brother was more naïve than he thought.
But John didn't want to say any more. Didn't want to tell his brothers that he knew she was running from someone and needed their protection. He knew what Tommy would do. He would order Arthur to have her fired, just to rid themselves of any trouble.
If Tommy didn't see Emily useful in any way, he would have her leave the city, and John wouldn't be able to stop it.
"You were fucked over by a barmaid who had somethin' to hide once. Don't mean I will be too." John said, which earned him an immediate "John!" in warning from Arthur.
Tommy's eyes darkened at the mention of his late wife, but he didn't lose his temper. He knew what would happen. John would follow the example and the instability in their family would be observed by various civilians…and Italians spies.
"With Esme gone, I'm betting you'll be looking for a lawyer…you'll be wanting a new wife." Tommy said, thoughtfully and noticed John's eyes light up in interest. "I have a proposition for you."
"Oh yeah?" John crossed his hands over his chest, waiting to hear whatever shit Tommy was planning for him again. It wouldn't be the first time he used his desire for a wife for his own benefit.
"Hmm. Lizzie Stark." Tommy whispered.
Arthur let out a formidable amount of chuckles, that certainly got a lot of attention, and it was too late to do anything about it.
John's mouth was agape and his left eye twitched. There was a time when he had wanted Lizzie to be his wife, when they were both younger…before he found out that Tommy had been fucking her regularly after the war…before he realized that Lizzie herself had a thing for Tommy. Things had changed, and Lizzie no longer held his interest.
"No. No. No. You can't be fuckin' serious!" John exclaimed when he realized that Tommy wasn't joking.
"I am prepared to accept Lizzie as your wife, if she is still interested…if you forget about that barmaid. Lizzie is one of us. A good secretary. Loyal. She's given up that old lifestyle of hers. And we know everything there is to know about her." Tommy told him.
"No!"
"No?" Tommy wasn't used to being refused this often. Arthur had learned his place a couple of years before. John was still learning. "A few years ago, you would have done anything to have me accept Lizzie as your wife. What's changed?"
"I'm not your fucking toy soldier!" John hissed in Tommy's face, familiar words which reminded Tommy of another time John had stood up to him, when he defied orders and refused to kill Audrey Changretta.
John stomped off in anger and not even Arthur could stop him, when he called after him, "John!"
"Fuck off!" Tommy and Arthur heard John's reply from afar.
The fucking nerve of his brother to toy with him like this. Tommy might have been boss but he was still his brother! He hadn't objected when he confided in him that night about how much he wanted Emily. He had given his consent, and there was no changing it.
…
"Polly! A letter came!" Ada exclaimed, going to the kitchen where her aunt was trying to have a glass of good whisky in peace.
The children in the house had worn her out, Linda was being an even bigger bitch around with Esme gone, and Tatiana…well, Tatiana was a whole different story. Polly decided to let Tommy deal with her as much as possible. She was supposed to be moved back to
"What?" Polly asked, after Ada snapped her out of her trance.
"A letter. Looks official." Ada furrowed her eyebrows as she handed it over to her.
The envelope was official alright. It had the King's seal. Polly wasted no time in ripping it open, almost like a madwoman, as Ada watched.
"My God." Polly whispered, looking it over, and nearly tipping the glass of whisky over the table.
"What is it?" Ada pushed her face closer to the letter to try to read it for herself.
Polly grabbed her hand for support as she stated, "Our family's invited to Sandringham House in Norfolk. The Duke and Duchess of York are throwing a Christmas party."
…
A/N: John's not putting up with Tommy's shit, and he's not going to let go of Emilia. Tommy is acting like a jerk to his brothers and Tatiana, and it's going to cost him, don't worry. The Shelbys have been officially invited to a royal Christmas party… with good reason.
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