• MRS. SHELBY • A Thomas Shelby Fanfic •

one - the begging of the end

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November 23, 1934

There is a sudden panic in me that is new to my body. I can feel this unsettling pain in the pit of my stomach, like something is wrong.
No, something has to be wrong.

I move from my library, wrapping my robe around my body. I'm quick, zipping my way throughout our home, hoping to the angels above that I'll bump into my husband.

It's the middle of a cold windy night. I can hear the wind against the windows, beating up the trees. Taunting us from the inside. The house is still. A buzzing sound fills my ears, I walk even faster.

"Mary!" I call the head maid, entering the main hall. I stood in the foyer, where the front door stayed shut, to my left, the massive dining room. To my right, the even larger kitchen. And then behind me was the hallway, and beside that, the spiral staircase leading upstairs.

Our home is quiet, Tommy's usual classical music that plays in his study does not sound. I look at the shut door to his office, the lights weren't on which meant he wasn't in there. it was nearly midnight, where was he off to?

"Yes, Mrs. Shelby?" She cocks her head, her eyebrows pull together.

"Oh." I feel like I might be ill and press my hand to my stomach. I latch onto Mary who is nearly twice my age.

She's nervous for me, and instantly puts her hands on my arms, steadying me. "Mrs. Shelby?"

I blink, but see black. "Something isn't right,"

Just like that the telephone rings and Mary escorts me to a chair in the kitchen and reaches for the phone. She's unaware of the phone call that will alter our lives forever.

I put my head down on the cold island, my eyes already getting cloudy because I know something is terribly wrong. I feel dizzy, faint.
In that moment I am reminded of the night my brother Calvin killed himself on a park bench miles away from our home. The war made him ill. Bringing the sickness to drive him mad, my brother shot himself.

Mum had no way of knowing, and yet hours before we were informed about his tragic death, she was screaming at the top of her lungs. Her knees giving out because she knew in her heart that someone dear to her has left us.

Mary gasped, "Oh dear God." She whispered on the phone before saying a prayer under her breath.

I let out a sob, and before I knew it, I slammed my hands against the marble countertop, "No!" I scream just like mama had so many years ago.

"Mrs. Shelby!" She cries, running towards me.
I felt arms around me, but I thrashed. Mary's beautiful eyes welled up with tears.

"Tell me," I grab a hold of her frail arms and give her a good shake. "Tell me!"

It's a weak nod, and scared look down that paralyzes me. She confirms it. "He's d-dead.
M-Mr. Shelby is dead."

I think the devil took over, or something, because after that day I was never the same.