IN BAD FAITH | peaky blinders | T.S

NINE

BIRMINGHAM, ENGLAND, 1921

MARTHA

9.

Martha spent two days holed up in her new room.

The term 'waking up' was obscure and inaccurate because she never could tell whether she'd actually fallen asleep. Surely this had to be a continuous nightmare. After Helen introduced her to the inn keeper (she seemed to know everyone round here) the girls parted ways and Martha found herself stood in the middle of a squat bedroom with a surprisingly large tin bath tub in its corner and a small bed that creaked with every move made against it.

She didn't know how long she'd spent stood there either, staring into the empty fireplace. Martha thought the reality of her situation had hit her completely on the train as she travelled away from London. Now, though, the responsibility did not just weigh on her shoulders but over her entire body, suffocating her.

All night she had laid on the bed, this time staring at the ceiling, wondering what life would be like if her mother was still here. At times like this - not that she had ever been in such a situation before - her mother was all she wanted. Someone to love her. Someone to protect her. Most of all, though, Martha just wanted someone to relieve her of the constant ache in her chest caused by her sisters pain.

Martha had eventually pulled herself from the bed. She bathed. She stood at the window and stared onto the street but couldn't really see anything - Josephine wouldn't let her. It was her sisters face constantly, crying for help, begging to be saved. Martha's whole life consisted of her sisters, and now she was without them both. The silence of her isolation was a merciless reminder, and it was going to be her forever unless she found a way to save Josephine.

She cried. It started quietly - just tears running down her face, but soon they stained her dress and she opened her mouth to breathe and that was it. She sobbed until there was nothing left to leave her body; until she was nothing but a shaking silhouette against the floor.

She thought of Josephine's pain, torturing herself further, and compared it to her own. How could she be so selfish? Josephine would probably be putting on a brave face right now, wherever she was, whatever she was suffering.

The thought of it made her wince again and her stomach knotted violently. How it felt knowing your loved ones were in danger was not easy to grow numb to, and it was even worse when you could've protected them in the first place.

She almost longed for her mother again, for someone to take away this responsibility.

No one else can save her. Not Mum. Not Ed. Not Josephine herself. Stop wishing her life away.

Martha stared into the small mirror that clung to the wall above the dresser and rubbed her hands over her face. She hated Sabini more than she feared him. She hated the men that ripped her family apart more than she longed for her own happiness. Right now her sole purpose on this earth was to save her sister, and the more she repeated this in her head, the less afraid she felt.

Martha scurried frantically around the room like a bullet, drying her face of tears and grabbing the bag that Ed gave her. Somehow it felt heavier.

She opened the door and was startled to see Helen staring back at her.

"I didn't want to intrude," she breathed sympathetically, an awkward smile plastered across her face. So you thought you'd just stand at my doorway listening instead? Obviously Helen had heard Martha's cries, and the thought made her feel sick. She was humiliated by the girl who sat crying on the floor just five minutes ago - it wasn't her.