Bancroft - Peaky Blinders Reverse Harem x Reader

Chapter 18

"Have you met Aunt Polly yet?" John asks me, pulling me over to a dark haired woman sat at a table. "Pol, this is Bancroft."

She smiles, assessing me with her eyes as she takes my hand. "I've heard lots about you," she says.

"You're Michael's mum," I reply, squeezing her hand in return.

That seems to be the highest compliment I could have given her, as she draws herself taller with pride. "I am," she nods. "And I spend every waking moment fighting my nephews' efforts to corrupt that poor boy," she says, with a pointed glance at John.

I try not to laugh. From what I've seen, Michael's as capable of corruption as any of the others.

"You must come round for tea sometime," Polly says to me. "Have Michael bring you when he's up next. And don't be afraid to nag at him if he leaves it too long."

"Alright, I will." I sit beside her, as John disappears back into conversation with Arthur and a few others.

"You surviving alright in that house?" Polly asks with glittering eyes as she lights a cigarette.

"As well as anyone can," I reply.

"I lived with those boys for years. It's not an easy job, looking after them."

"I can imagine not."

"Still, I'm ever so grateful." She places a hand over my own. "To know they've a woman around again to take care of them. Someone to cook for them. Take their coats when they get home from a rough night's work. Especially my Michael." Her eyes well with tears as she gives my hand a squeeze.

I glance away guiltily. "I don't think they need much taking care of," I say slowly.

"Of course they do. They need it more than anyone. After all they've been through..."

She trails off, bringing the cigarette to her lips. Already, I have such a fondness for her — and a horrible, sinking feeling that I'm letting her down. That I've been too harsh on her nephews and son, the most important people in the world to her.

"Promise me you'll take care of them," she says. "Unless they don't deserve it." She points at me with her cigarette. "They give you any shit at all, you sort them out. And if they still don't wind their necks in, you come to me."

An easy smile escapes me. "I'm sure I'd be phoning you three times a week."

"Only three times a week? They must be fond of you," she jokes.

Things begin to blur. I'm drunk, I realise. And in this moment, I'm happy. All my sadness and negativity washes away, and my brain simply doesn't go where it's dark. All that matters is me and Polly, now talking about the new law prohibiting young children being employed in railways and the mines. Then Michael, challenging John to see who can finish their drink fastest, while everyone else chants and applauds John when he wins.

The night passes by in a blur, and before I know it John tells me the taxi's here, and it's time to go. Polly hugs me goodbye and kisses me profusely on the cheek, making me promise I'll come visit.

"I don't want to leave," I protest, as Arthur and John have an arm each around my shoulders and lead me outside.

"Trust me, you want to be out of there before they announce the party's over," Arthur says.

"Fucking riots," John adds.

I slip into the backseat of the taxi after John. "Why aren't you driving?" I ask Arthur. "Alcohol never stopped you before."

"Because you're too precious to risk," he says. "Cocaine, anyone?"

He pulls a bag from his pocket. John laughs. I'm sandwiched between them both, heat from their bodies pressing into mine.