Tragic Love

Chapter 17

*4 Years Later*

Since the death of Polly Gray, a lot had changed around Birmingham.

Arthur had gone off the deep end. It was hard to remember the last time you saw him sober and not under the effect of drugs. Whereas, Tommy, had gone in the opposite direction and had sworn off alcohol completely.

Over the course of the last few years, you and Tommy had gotten close again. Neither of you had really spoken about it or put a label on what the two of you were, but you'd spend weeks on end at his house before driving back to Margate for a few days to see Alfie and then driving back to Birmingham again.

Lizzie and Tommy were divorced now. She still lived in Tommy's mansion, co-parenting Ruby with him. It actually worked fairly well, Lizzie respected yours and Tommy's boundaries and watched the kids while you were both out working.

Tommy was still a MP and worked alongside Oswald Mosely which you didn't like at all. Tommy had kept you hidden from Mosely, not wanting you to get involved in any political matter. Although, you knew that wasn't the reason. It was because Mosely was a fascist and adopted or not, you were a Solomons and Mosely would not like that.

You kept all the political business for Tommy, but anything else, you were right by his side which is why you found yourself in French territory on Miquelon Island.

Tommy had booked a meeting room in a local bar to meet with Michael and his men to discuss Jack Nelson -who also happened to be Gina's uncle- to discuss the opium.

"You guys want a drink?" The barkeeper asked when you and Tommy sat down at the front bar, ignoring the looks the locals across the room you were giving you.

"I'll have a glass of water, please." Tommy replied, lighting himself a cigarette before adding. "And a rum for the lady."

The man nodded before fixing the drinks and placing them in front of you as you gave him a grateful smile and took a sip.

One of the locals suddenly stood up and you watched him out the corner of your eye as he walked up to the bar beside you.

The man ordered something in French and the barkeep placed a bottle of whiskey down on he bar in front of him, but the man didn't grab the bottle. Instead, he turned towards you and Tommy and started talking in French.

You had absolutely no idea what the man was saying, but Tommy knew French and seemed to understand him because he reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card and slid it across before saying something something in French back to him.

Taking a sip of your rum, you watched the man pick up the card before lighting it on fire while him and Tommy continued talking before finally Tommy switched back to English.

"I learnt a lot of things in France."

The other man nodded, watching the card burn before responding.

"Island is crawling with you fucking commissary men. Closing our warehouses down. Throwing men out of work."

The barkeeper quickly leant over the bar and whispered something to the other man in French, but the man just shook his head and grabbed the bottle of whiskey before pushing himself away from the bar.

"Ten years our boat ran whiskey down the President Roads to Boston." He said, unscrewing the bottle and leaning through the gap between you and Tommy as he took a giant gulp of his drink. "Now we have fucking nothing and you sit in front of us and order fucking water. Is that meant to be a joke?"

"No. I ordered water because I no longer drink alcohol of any kind." Tommy simply answered, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"You, my friend, are going to drink a toast."