Chelsea sat in the back of Tommy's car, Polly sat up the front beside him. Chelsea felt sick to her stomach, partially because she had something she needed to speak about, but also because of who she was about to speak with.
Chelsea had heard a lot of ST. Hilda's orphanage, what they did to children, how they hurt and treated them. Chelsea had been hurt as a child, and she never wanted any children to go through what she did, so when her dad invited her to come, she took the opportunity without thinking twice.
They pulled up at the entrance of the orphanage and they climbed out of the car, walking in and down the halls. The sound of Polly's and Chelsea's heels drowned out the sound of Tommys light shoes.
They finally reached the door and Chelsea pushed it open, seeing the row of nuns sat at a table, their heads bowed in prayer.
Chelsea couldn't give to fucks if they were praying.
She sat down on a chair in front of them and coughed loudly, purposely distracting them until they stopped praying.
"You wanted to speak to us, Mr. Shelby?" one woman asked.
"Yep." Tommy nodded.
"All of us?" The woman asked, Chelsea had the sudden urge to lunge at her and shoot her brains out right there and then.
"Yes." Tommy said, lighting his cigarette.
"At 6:30 in the morning?"
"Yes." Tommy answered, already losing his patience with the woman.
Chelsea took her dad's lighter and lit her own cigarette.
"We don't smoke in here." The woman said, staring at Chelsea with disgust.
"Well, we fucking do." Chelsea said, handing the lighter to Polly.
"Nor do we use language."
Polly handed the lighter back to Tommy and shook her head, "Nor do we find fault in the innocent. Yet, you do. You fucking do."
"May I ask what this meeting is about?" The woman asked.
As the woman who had arranged the meeting, Chelsea took it upon herself to speak, "The Grace Shelby Foundation is the biggest single source of funding for the charitable institution devoted to the care of the orphaned girls of South Birmingham, yeah?"
"For which we give thanks." The woman spoke, looking down at the table.
Chelsea hummed and pushed a file forwards.
"I have a temper similar to the one described in that report." said Polly, pointing at the file, "Yet, unlike you, I wait until I'm matched in size."
"Whose report?"
"The testimony of Children." said Polly.
The woman leant across the table and picked up the file, "Who have they spoken to?"
"You'd have them only speak to God." said Polly, an evil grin on her face as she leant back in her chair.
"God be their witness." the woman said, her eyes scanning over the file.
"There is God, and there are the Peaky Blinders." said Tommy, "This is Sparkhill, we're in Small Heath. We're much, much closer at hand than God."
"And we have heard terrible things." said Chelsea, trying to contain the anger that was rising inside of her.
"We have, in this place, children of the worst sort. They lie as easily as breathe
Was she trying to justify her actions? Chelsea had never wanted to rip out a woman's tongue more and shove it down her fucking throat.
