IN BAD FAITH | peaky blinders | T.S

THREE

LONDON, ENGLAND

MARTHA

3.

It happened every single time Martha woke up.

When she opened her eyes it took a while for her brain to catch up and for a brief moment she was oblivious. Oblivious to the hard labour she would have to endure that day, oblivious to the long and repetitive hours of tutoring Bessie. The most pressing of all was that sometimes, when she had slept for far too long, Martha would wake up oblivious to the fact that her mother was dead — one morning she had heard the clattering of pots and pans from the kitchen downstairs and for a second thought that Diana was cooking the girls breakfast, just as she used to. It was only when she turned over to see Josephine missing from their bed that she realised the sister had woken from sleep early and started cooking, and more brutally, her mother was still dead.

Her sisters were still asleep. Martha rolled over, wondering why she had woken in the first place. The sky outside remained dark, the small window a square of inky blackness like part of the patchwork quilt which they huddled beneath now. She had forgotten to blow out the candle which sat on the bedside table beside her, grey wax sliding from it's metal lantern and pooling at the bed's feet. She lay there in content, the effects of sleep still fogging her mind.

Just then, once the moment of waking oblivion had passed, a strange sound from the front of the house made its way through the narrow hallway and squeezed itself through the crack in the doorway to meet Martha's attentive ears. It was a low, abrupt banging noise, like a fist against wood, and for just a second she wondered whether the wind outside had opened one of the window shutters.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

It was slow and apprehensive in its rhythm, and Martha couldn't figure out what it was.

Bang.

Bang.

Just then the bedroom door burst open and a figure appeared in the open frame — tall, slight and approaching Martha hurriedly. Before she could scream, a hand clamped her mouth closed and bent over her.

"It's me, Marth. It's me. I'm so sorry."

Martha exhaled sharply, panic replacing itself with anger. The yellow flame of the candle offered enough light for Martha to study Josephine's fear-stricken face, which hovered above her own.

"What the hell are you doing?" Martha seethed. Josephine reached a hand over to the youngest sister and shook her, jerking Bessie from peaceful sleep.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry girls."

I'm so sorry girls. That was the last thing Diana had said to them, the last words Martha remembered spilling from her mother's thin lips before she had died.

Bessie rubbed her eyes and sat up. "Jo? Marth? What's happening?"

"You need to get up. We have to go."

Josephine was already dressed in the same clothes as the day before, her boots barely laced. She pulled Bessie from the warm bed and helped her dress whilst Martha stayed still, staring in disbelief.

"Would you stop Josephine? What the hell's going on? I'm not going anywhere until you tell me-"

Josephine shoved a dress into Martha's stomach, her eyes wide and brimming with tears. Her skin was pale, her lips cracked, her hair knotted and wild. 

"They're coming for me. They're coming to take me. They're at the door."

Before Martha could protest, Josephine held her hand up. "Listen," she breathed.

The house had grown silent. The banging had ceased.

"Who's coming to take you Jo? You sound crazy," Martha blurted, on the verge of crying as she reluctantly pulled on her dress. She reached out for Bessie, who for the first time in her life looked fearful of her sister as she stood in Josephine's grip.

"I just did a job," Josephine whispered, as if she was talking to herself. She released her youngest sisters wrist, who ran to Martha's side. "I just did a job. One job, he told me. One tiny little job."

"Whatever you've done Jo, we can fix it. You just need to explain to me what's going on."

Josephine laughed, her eyes falling to the floor. Martha tried to fix everyone. She always had. A tear slipped from the inner corner of her eye and rolled across her face.

"You can't fix it, Martha. I know you think you can fix everything but you can't fix this. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Just then the banging started again, this time so loud and violent that Josephine wondered how the people at the door hadn't already broken in.

"We don't have time," she spat, her face crumpling in fear. She panted and wailed and her hands shook as she pressed her body against the door, locking them in. She was completely terrified, and suddenly she was the same grief-stricken little girl that existed after her mother passed away.

Martha felt like she couldn't breathe. Josephine had been the bravest person she knew. The smartest, the wittiest, the fastest. She couldn't fathom what had put her sister in this state, and as Josephine fell out of her role as the bravest, Martha abandoned hers as the mother. For once, she didn't know what to say or do to save her sisters.

"Jo?" Martha whispered desperately.

Josephine looked at her sisters, the only family she had left. The last people on this Earth that she loved. She couldn't bear to see them stood side by side in eachother's arms, fear rippling through their innocent faces. She had done this to them.

She thought she loved Louis, too, but after tonight how could she? How could she love a liar? And yet even now, in this moment where he had endangered her precious family, she still loved his eyes and his hands and the way he made her feel. He was her secret and she loved him just as much as she had ever loved anybody else in her lifetime.

Bessie looked between her older sisters, panic and confusion making her chest jump with every bang from downstairs. "Who's banging at the door Jo? Is it the man you saw the other day?"

Josephine's heart lurched. She knelt in front of Bessie and clasped her wrists together so tightly that the little girl winced.

"No, no, no. No Bessie. You do not utter a word about that day, just as I told you. If anybody asks you anything, you don't answer. You don't speak, Beatrice, not to anyone. Okay?"

Bessie nodded silently, frightened by her sister's crazed voice and the way her eyes popped from her skull.

"Martha," Josephine breathed shakily, turning to face her eldest sister. "They're going to take me. I betrayed them Martha. They've come to take me."

The crack of the door snapping was deafening. A swarm of voices entered the downstairs hall, quick and heavy footsteps bounding up the stairs.

"Who?" Martha shouted. "Who's coming to take you?"

The doorknob rattled. Josephine shook her head violently, averting her eyes away from her sisters as tears streamed down her face. The more they know, the more danger I put them in. Whoever stood on the other side of the door began kicking it, the wood trembling under each powerful hit.

"Tell me Josephine," Martha yelled, grabbing her sisters shoulders.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

The pounding stopped. Silence shrouded the house once more. All Martha could hear was the breathing of the girls as they stood cowering in their small bedroom.

"Sabini," Josephine whispered, barely audible. Another tear escaped her wide, unblinking eyes. "Sabini and his men."

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an: sorry for the late update, hope u enjoy :)))