Forbidden Alliances // Alfie Solomons Peaky Blinders

(103) Benignity

*edited 03/28/23*

"Why did you want me here for both of those little meetings, Tommy?" Freya drew out drearily, slowly moving from her spot by the bookcase to approach his desk.

He took a deep breath and shook his head, scooting to the edge of his seat and rifling through some things in the bottom drawer behind his desk. He ignored Freya and pulled out a new pack of cigarettes, lighting one up and filling the air with its putrid smoke.

"I have a job for you, Witch," he promised. "There's been a shift in roles regarding the balance of our handling on the Russians and Section D, amongst other, more recent jobs..."

"I'm promising you a vendetta, Tommy. What more do you want from me?" she sighed, taking a seat and wanting nothing more than a hot cup of tea to ease her nerves.

Tommy sucked his tobacco clean of nicotine and scribbled some words down on a piece of paper. Freya waited a few moments before he folded it and repeated what he did with the others. He extended his hand over his desk and waited for her to take the letter from his hand so he could discuss more personal matters.

She stared at it for a moment, finding his sudden lack of verbal words odd, even in the state he was in, it was very unusual.

"Do you remember that German clock shop in Wolverhampton we snuck off to when Dad brought us into the city for the first time? When Mum was pregnant with Ada?" Tommy recognized her hesitance and decided to talk. "You, me, and Arthur all sat in front of that bloody window for an hour, watching the cogs tick and turn, refusing to leave until we saw that tiny wooden bird pop out the top."

Freya recalled the memory well. She was four at the time and John was still in diapers so he stayed home with their Mum who was ready to give birth within weeks while their Dad checked out the city she swore was a perfect place to settle down. He was looking at homes with a realtor and the three of them managed to stay in the same spot for an hour in front of this small shop in the middle of town.

She remembered the smell of warm wood of all sorts, from cedar to birch, pine to oak. It was so distinct and welcoming even from the streets. Freya was captivated by the way the cogs worked, pieced together perfectly, moving in sync and eventually causing that tiny bird to scream at the children's faces when it struck noon.

It was a good memory but she didn't understand why Tommy was talking about a random childhood event when he should have been talking about what business she had with him.

"Do you remember how transfixed you were on the mechanics of the clock? If that cuckoo's to sing again, all of us need to work together. We all have jobs, just like those cogs. And none of this will work if one of us pulls out or doesn't pull their weight, Freya," he explained calmly, feeling the effects of his cigarette calm his frayed nerves over time.

Freya had her swollen bottom lip pushed out slightly as she snatched the note out of Tommy's hand.

"Everyone does what I've written and the clouds over our heads will dissipate. But before then, I want to ask you something. It's got nothing to do with the company, it's a personal favor I need to ask of you..."

"Mmhm," she hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, then fiddled with the corners of the letter in her hands with anticipation.

"I'm taking my leave to Wales for four days. I need to verify something with our Gypsy counterparts, giving you and our brothers time to do as I've asked, but also giving me time to keep Charlie safe. Do you understand?"

"What do you want?"

She didn't let him see that she cared. He knew everybody he invited cared or else they would not have shown up or tried to reach him in their own ways. She was harsh because that's what Tommy did whenever someone didn't follow orders without a second thought. People needed time to consider their purpose and Freya wasn't going to let him take that from her.