𝐋𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐚 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 🍞PEAKY BLINDERS 🥖

Chapter Forty-Six

Who is she updating so quickly?

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Kizzie made it through the wedding ceremony by imagining marriage to Alfie.

Like a director in a movie, she pictured and perfectly placed every word and every color in her mind.

Something small and intimate. Smaller than Tommy's wedding. Did Alfie have a big family? He mentioned an uncle in Boston. His mother and father had since passed away. An only child so no nieces and nephews. Kizzie was very jealous when she found that out.

A secret ceremony.

Except maybe Aunt Polly and Ada could come. And maybe one or two of Alfie's people.

Figuring out the dress she walked down the aisle with proved to be too complicated. She could only see her green dress. But Alfie? He was so handsome and rugged in a black suit. Kizzie wished she knew more about Jewish wedding customs. She was sure there were rules and decor Alfie would want to follow. He was so proud of his people and culture. It felt like a disservice to imagine a wedding to him without respecting his wishes.

Kizzie blinked and felt herself come back to the church.

What was she even talking about?

There would be no marriage to Alfie. They were...friends. Would only ever be friends because Alfie was old enough to be her brother. And he didn't ever imply romance; with her and otherwise.

Bitterness bled through her stomach as she watched Tommy and Grace make their way out the church, hands held and smiles wide.

Aunt Polly dragged her along with their loud and cheerful family. "You're alright," she reminded Kizzie.

"Picture time, ladies," Arthur told them once through the door. The crowd of both families blocked the stairs down. Her brother found Tommy through the bodies of John's children. "Where you want 'em?"

Aunt Polly pushed Arthur away. "I don't need Thomas to tell me where to go." She went down to be far from Grace, beside Linda.

Kizzie went to follow when Thomas halted her with a gentle grip around her wrist.

"Will you stay beside me?" Hope, fragile as glass shone in his eyes. But uncertainty, too. He did not want to push her. To assume more than she was willing to give.

"Okay."

Kizzie let him guide her up the stairs. He lit himself a cigarette before his spare arm hugged her waist. The other was held by Grace. She gifted Kizzie a smile.

"Take the photograph!" yelled Arthur once he rounded up the rest of the family.

Kizzie's eyes watered at the camera flash. She did not hide her discomfort; there were enough photos and portraits of her in the house. A few bad ones with her wouldn't ruin the bunch. What would Tommy do? Have the family retake the pictures?

Tension gripped Kizzie's waist. She felt his stare burn past her and onto the grass where guests waited for the bride and groom to make their escape. 

He didn't ease up until the photographer was finished.

Arthur took Kizzie and helped her down the stairs. "Flashes weren't too bad, right?" Tommy and Grace were almost to the car, but the tension lingered and made a knot in Kizzie's stomach. "...Kizzie girl?"

She didn't answer, didn't even hear him. Instead she ran after Tommy and squeezed between bodies, aware of Arthur keeping up behind her.

The last bit of congratulations and handshakes provided enough time for Kizzie to reach him.

"Tommy."

His back tensed. Surprised for a second time today. A record he never knew he didn't mind. Tommy turned, breathless in the face of her. "Yes, lambkin?"

"What happened?"

Her brother's eyes darted away, always unable to cover-up his displeasure from her; he got caught. He took in a breath and Kizzie swore he grew in size. "They are here," he said, quietly.

"The Russian people?"

"Aye." Excited bodies moving around them forced Thomas to break away from her. "Remember what I told you. Find me if you see anything."

Tommy met with the family, while Grace was getting ready this morning, about what to potentially expect today. An invite was extended to the Russians but Tommy wasn't sure if they'd come.

"Okay."

A silent command brought Arthur in front of her.

Tommy helped Grace into the carriage while Arthur followed like a shadow. 

"Arthur," Tommy said. "Arthur, get them in the house." He pursed his lips and spoke his next words in Shelta, rushed but hard, leaving no room for questions. "Take Kizzie with you, keep her safe until I speak to the boy."

☻

Ozzy stopped pacing his corner of the dining room. "Fuck."

The carriage and cars appeared from atop the hill. Ozzy saw them approach the circular driveway from the high windows.

"Fuck."

His clammy hands took the serving tray and steadied them on the two handles. Serving drinks was easy. He could do that no problem. It was trying to pick up any Russian and not get caught today that made him want to vomit.

Kizzie let slip some months ago that Ozzy "basically knew Russian". Got Tommy's head going and he asked Ozzy about it. Ozzy was honest, obviously, and said he could understand some of it, but it really depended how quickly they spoke and how big the words were. The next day, books on the Russian language and Russian vinyl records decorated his bed. Along with a note:

The Russians are coming. Learn quickly.

And, to be fair, he did learn quickly. But there were just some things he couldn't get, no matter how many times he read or listened to the Russian recordings.

There was also the other issue: being seen. Seen as Polish or Russian or any of the other countries under Russian authority. This thought did not make it to Tommy; he never confessed so, anyway. And from what Kizzie said, her brother had his hands full trying to juggle business and the wedding. Made Ozzy worried. Made a pit grow in his belly. He didn't want to be caught by Russians and have his face and name and history at the forefront of every enemy list. Nor did he want to be the reason a war started between the Russians and Shelbys...

He was here tonight to spy. Any Russian spoken tonight went straight to Tommy. And Ozzy hoped to God he not only understood what was said, but was able to properly translate into English.

He took a deep breath and straightened his back. Stood beside the other waiters like statues and smiled with a closed-mouth. Then waited for the stampede to rush the doors.

Author's Note:

Has anyone else seen the trailer that dropped for Tom Hardy's new biker movie? He's doing that quasi-New Yorker accent that I hate he puts on... He's lucky he's gorgeous and (mostly) gets away with it.

I'm sure all the MC/biker writers are going absolutely FERAL right now.