Tom Hardy Character Imagines

A Mother's Love (Part Two)- Reggie Kray x OFC

Three years later

Reggie pulled up outside the small block of flats and felt uncharacteristically nervous for the first time in a long time. She still lived here. He knew this because he had people watching her and the kid, making sure they were safe from a distance.

His son.

The son whose name he didn't even know, but he knew that every Tuesday morning his mother took him to feed the ducks, and every Friday afternoon they went to a local church group for mums and small children. He didn't know his son's name, but he knew that he could walk and run, and had hair the same dirty blonde that Reggie himself had once had as a nipper. He didn't know his son's name, but he knew that the little lad loved chasing pigeons and giggling when they flew away in fright. It was strange really; he knew so much about the child he had made yet he also knew nothing at all.

The children playing ball at the end of the street were fascinated and excited to see such an expensive car in their neighbourhood, and they all gathered around touching the shining black vehicle with their dirty hands. Reggie was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't even notice them. His focus was entirely on the stairs that he began to climb hesitantly.

He reached the front door with a swirling number fifteen drawn in white paint and he paused. He lifted his hand to knock and realised it was shaking. He was terrified. He wanted to turn around and clomp back down the stairs; pretend this was all really a dream. But he couldn't. Not when he knew this was his only chance.

Violet Kray was dying. She had weeks, perhaps months at best, left on this earth and day by day her body grew frailer but her mind stayed as sharp as a tack. Reggie and Ronnie, and their older brother, Charlie, were at her bedside as much as physically possible. They never spoke about it, but the air was thick with their pain as they all tried to come to terms with the fact that they would lose the woman they loved the most in the entire world.

"I've had a good life, Reg," she smiled weakly one day, as Reggie sat beside her, clutching her hand and talking about fond childhood memories in the hopes of making her forget about the pain she was in. "You and your brothers made sure of that. Being your mum is the greatest thing I've ever done. I've watched you all grow into fine, young men and I couldn't be prouder."

"Yeah, but what about all the times I've got myself banged up?" Reggie sighed, taking her hand. "You weren't proud then; not when you were crying because I couldn't keep myself out of trouble."

"I may not agree with the lifestyle choices you all make but I'm proud of the way you've handled everything that's ever been thrown at you," she smiled softly, patting his hand over her other one. "There's only one thing that saddens me."

"What's that?"

"I'd have loved a grandchild or two before I left this earth," she sighed wistfully. "I knew it was unlikely I would ever have got one from Ronnie or even Charlie, but when you met Evelyn, I expected you would marry that girl and have a child or two."

"Mum," he sighed.

"I know," she nodded. "It's none of my business what happened with you two, but I know that you miss her. I see it in your face, Reg."

"Mum, there's something I need to tell you."

He hadn't of course told his mother about the full truth regarding the situation. He neglected to tell her about the horrid things he had said and the disgusting way in which he had cast out the woman he loved. There was no chance his mother could have said she was proud of him then, and as pathetic as it was, he wanted to stay in her good graces. He couldn't bear for her to think of her loving son as a cold, horrid monster like everyone else saw him as.