𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊, Peaky Blinders

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎,

~ T H E   N A M E   H E R A   B L A C K ~
part one, a piece of classic literature
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1919, Hera Black

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THOMAS SHELBY DECIDED TO STAY FOR DINNER. Hera glances over at the empty spot at the head of the table. Her fathers spot.

Thomas and Idris are still in his study discussing matters and propositions. Leaving the women alone at the table.

They are not rude host. The night had run late, and they had asked the men if they wanted a break for dinner. They waved there hands and said that they are fine. Thankfully Idris gave them promissions to eat without them.

The table feels empty without her father, she felt uncomfortable. In her own, at her own table. She would distract her self by ranting about meaningless conversations about art and artist to her father and he would listen. Amused and fascinated with his daughters love for art.

She could do the same now, but Mother doesn't care and neither does Margo, no matter how hard she pretends to.

"Can you pass the bread, Margo?" Her mother asked, Margo's head lifts form her plate and complies handing Athena the bread.

Hera normally didn't eat and when she did she didn't eat much. An appetite is what she didn't have. To her food looked like nothing deserving of eating.

It's a childish thought, but some things stick with you, even after you grow a pair of boobs and hair on your arms.

She played with the chicken and peas instead, too focused on trying to make out what the discussion was about.

   Men have a miraculous way of talking in hushed tones when it involves money, but if it was to insult a family or a woman, they seemed to miss understanding the concept of whispering.

"I beat horses Idris, not people."

     "That's not!- I'm offering you a large sum, —" the voice of her father died, from the wavelength of his tone decreasing to a sound, she couldn't hear through the walls.

     Her head stays down, but her eyes glance through her eyelashes meeting her mothers, presley brown eyes, that hold warning. Hera's chin tilts, refusing to be subdued by the stare of a mother.

   It gives a balance to people who have been caught acting anxious and misfit from themselves. Hera stayed calm.

  "Conner, will be visiting with his son, Alec tomorrow. For business.-"

   "Business." Hera murmured, at the same time, from the producibility, not loud enough so anyone can hear.

   Business has been high this year, it became a large scolding secret in this house. Mother would dismiss it as a few words of money is rising, reassurance needs to be placed with some people.

   That is a truth and a half, Hera knows as much. She knows what's happening, not everything but she knows. Father is shifting his business. More of his people are dying. The walls are thin. And Hera is forgotten after the hours of ten.

"Your father and I need you to be here." She states firmly. Hera's eyebrows crease, her chin turns.

"I have a college class, I won't be able to." Hera says, maturely. Her mother tilts her head down.