Mrs Gray

two.

two.
watercolour eyes

Christmas Day 1925 was far different to most. It should've been a happy day for feasting and sharing presents without a worry. Instead, Anna had one eye watching the clock as the other watched her son open his gifts. Louis bounced on Michael's lap wearing his new flat-cap, free of razor blades for now. When the phone rang, it was Anna who volunteered to answer.

"Hello."

"Anna?"

"Merry Christmas Thomas." Anna rolled her eyes despite her cousin not being able to see her through the phone.

"Yeah, Merry Christmas. I can't get hold of John, would you or Michael be able to get him?"

"Now?"

"I want everyone in Small Heath for noon, Charlie's yard." And in pure Tommy fashion, he hung up the phone. Laughter filled Anna's ears once more as she walked back over to her little family.

"Look, Anna." Michael beamed, holding his son up proudly to his wife. He was sporting a waistcoat, a gift from his grandma Polly, which matched one of Michael's.

"Just like his daddy." Anna put on a fake smile, running her fingers through her husband's hair.

"What's wrong, love?" Polly called over, noticing her daughter's insincere grin.

"That was Thomas on the phone, he wants us all at Charlie's yard for noon."

"He's really out done himself this Christmas." Michael began, standing from his seat on the sofa. "He's managed to ruin things without even being here."

"Also, Michael, he can't get hold of John, would you be able to go get him? I can go if not."

"No, no, I'll go. You take Louis, make sure he's safe."

"Of course." She took Louis from him before leaning in to place a kiss on Michael's lips. The two lingered slightly longer than usual before parting ways to get themselves ready.

*

Small Heath being quiet at noon was a wonder which could only be witnessed on Christmas Day. Anna was the only one who would go near Tommy, the rest avoided him like the plague. The fog seemed even thicker than usual as the tension intertwined with the smoky air. The only sound came from children, those too young to understand the civil war within the Shelby family. Tommy repeatedly glanced at his watch as the hands creeped further and further away from the time agreed to meet.

"What's taking them so long?" Tommy growled in a hushed tone to Anna.

"I don't know, he left when we did, he shouldn't have been this late." Tommy stormed off to smoke a cigarette as Anna rejoined the group of angered Blinders with her son in her arms.

Over the thick silence, a car approaching sounded. Anna felt relief rise up as she presumed it was her husband. However, a man she didn't recognise appeared, causing the male Blinders to stand to attention.

"Is there anyone here by the name of 'Mrs Anna Gray'?" The man nervously stuttered.

"What do you want with her." Arthur growled.

"I really must speak to her personally." Handing Louis to Polly, Anna rose to her feet and began approaching the man. Arthur and Finn followed close behind, aware of the impending threat Tommy had spoken about.

"What do you want?"

"Mrs Gray, I'm sorry to tell you that your husband, Michael, has been shot."

*

As he was driven to the hospital, all Michael could shout through the pain was Anna's name. He had watched as Esme sobbed into John's dying body and he knew that if he was to meet the same fate, he wanted his love by his side. The drive felt as though it lasted forever. Living out in the country, the closest hospital was miles away, limiting his chance of survival. Michael knew this. He knew there was little chance of him surviving multiple gun shots. Nevertheless, he held out hope that he would live to see Anna another day.

He must've blacked out for a while because the next thing he knew, he was being pushed through a hospital corridor. He had made it, survived a little longer. He grew more hopeful but it was growing increasingly difficult to feel anything aside from sheer and unbearable pain.

"Michael." He heard a familiar voice call out to him, urging him to open his eyes and see what he hoped would be the last thing he remembered before he died.

"Anna." He barely croaked but it was enough for her, it meant he was alive. She gripped his blood soaked hand tightly as she raced alongside him to wherever he was being taken. Her hair was messy and her cheeks hurt from the endless sobbing. She couldn't even see bullet wounds, his entire naked torso was a bloodied mess.

Once he had been wheeled into a large room with sunlight flooding it, Anna could see more clearly. That was until she was ripped from his side by an influx of doctors and nurses rushing to his aid. Backing away, she began to comprehend what was unveiling in front of her. She heard footsteps from where she had just walked in. Seeing Tommy stood there looking apologetic, she launched at him, hitting him with bloodied hands.

"You did this." She cried. "Your fucking mess." Tommy held her, knowing her words were out of the anger she felt towards whoever had shot Michael and John. "You promised me." She whispered after calming down slightly. "You promised me that what happened to you and Grace wouldn't happen to us."