VICES AND VIRTUES | Thomas Shelby

THIRTY TWO

Florence had regretted walking away from Tommy like that, not because she agreed with him, but by the time she had found herself a Peaky Blinder to drive her to Margaret's house in Warwickshire, her feet were sore and the evening was drawing in. Tommy's words tormented her and she did wonder if she should just leave and go back to London, it would make Elijah content, at least. She just needed things to be as they were, but she struggled, she struggled with the idea of cutting ties with home again.

By the time she arrived at Harrington House it was dark, she stepped out of the car, telling the driver that she would be as quick as possible before walking up the long drive towards Margaret's house.

She approached the front door, knocking against the wood, which was quickly opened by the housekeeper who had been working for the family since Elijah and George were young.

"Evening, Mrs Harrington, do come in," She smiled, stepping to the side as she held the door open.

"I hope the children haven't been too much trouble," Florence replied with a smile.

"They've been angels as always, ma'am," Hilda assured her.

"Thank you, and please, call me Florence," She replied, "Are they in the drawing room?"

"Yes," Hilda nodded, "Margaret and your friend are in there with them."

"My friend?" Florence remarked, wondering if perhaps Tommy had paid a visit to taunt her further.

"The tailor from London," Hilda answered, "Well, he says he knows you from London."

She didn't know any tailors.

"Is George in?" Florence asked and she really hoped that Hilda would say yes.

"He's out at the pub with Lizzie."

"Thank you, Hilda," Florence smiled, feeling her heart begin to race, "Why don't you finish your shift early tonight, join the rest of the staff downstairs?"

"Thank you, ma'am," Hilda nodded before disappearing down a corridor as Florence hurried down the opposite hallway towards the drawing room, following the sound of children's screams.

Screams of laughter.

As she opened the door she saw her two children playing with a dollhouse and train-set that she had never seen before. She looked across the room at Margaret and what came next horrified her.

The tailor from London, or rather, Luca Changretta.

"Florence, how lovely it is to see you!" Margaret exclaimed as she laid eyes on her daughter in law who was staring at her own father, "Your friend here, Mr Coppola, was telling me that he knows you from London, said he was in the area and this was the only address he had for you."

"Could you take the children upstairs, please, Margaret?" Florence asked calmly as she kept her eyes on Luca, regretting that she had left her bag with her gun in it in the car.

"They're quite happy playing with their new toys, Florence," Margaret remarked.

"Margaret, take the children upstairs." Florence replied with a firmer tone.

"Oliver, Daisy, come on," Margaret smiled at the children with a hushed voice, "Mummy will see us upstairs soon."

"Bye bye, Mummy," Daisy smiled at her mother as Margaret led the two children out of the room and Florence closed the door behind them.

"You've got some fucking nerve." Florence muttered with resentment lacing every word.

"I just wanted to meet my grandchildren, so I bought presents." Luca gestured to the new toys on the carpet.