Loving Gwen Baker (Thomas Shelby/Peaky Blinders)

Chapter Six

The next week went by rather quickly, and Gwen spent everyday working at the Garrison. The routine was the same as ever: Harry would greet her in the morning, Polly would stop by with a sandwich for her at lunchtime, and then Thomas would grace her with his silent company and watchful gaze until Harry would return from his hour break.

When Friday rolled around, Gwen made her way to the Shelby house along Watery Lane to have breakfast with Polly, before Tommy would drive her to the meadow.

As soon as the car pulled up, she was more than eager to escape the vehicle.

"You still don't like it."

"No."

He lit up a cigarette before escorting her along the little path towards the fields. "Maybe I need to drive you around more, so that you get used to it." He said, "I'll discuss with Harry about stealing you on Monday's as well as Fridays."

She knew that 'discuss with Harry' meant 'I'll tell Harry'.

"I'm sure he'll ask that blonde to cover."

"Her name is Grace."

"I don't care for her name." He said, resting his arms against the fence as they reached their spot. He inhaled on his smoke, "Monaghan Boy isn't here today, so you can start on one of the others."

"I saw you riding him this week." Gwen said, opening up her sketch pad. She would make a drawing of the horse, add a few brushes of colour and then take the rough piece home to put on canvas.

"I saw you with the postman."

Gwen decided to draw the beautiful chestnut; the sun was overhead in the perfect spot to really show of the vibrant copper of the mares coat.

"Are you not going to tell me what you were doing?"

She glanced up at him with a frown, "What I was doing when?"

"Saturday, with the postman." Tommy said, crushing the end of his cigarette under his shoe. "What were you doing with him?"

"Does it matter?"

"Are you his sweetheart?"

She scoffed out a short laugh, "No."

Tommy raised a brow, "Something funny about that?"

"Just you thinking that I'm anyone's sweetheart." Just look at the state of me. Her dress was far to big for her, she had dull brown eyes, and her hair was undecided wether it wanted to be straight or curly. She was just a boring bag of bones.

"So what did he want then?"

"Who says he wanted anything?"

"He's a man." Tommy said.

"He was a friend before the war, and I suppose he still is now." She replied, "He found me along the footpath that leads up to here, and walked me home."

"What do you mean he 'found you'? Did something happen?"

She put down her brush, "I thought I'd come up here on Sunday." She said, "But...I realised that I'm too weak to make the walk." She hadn't realised just how disappointed she was in herself, until she said the words 'I'm weak' aloud.

"You like it up here, I know."

"I don't like it, I love it." She corrected him, "I didn't realise how much I needed to be out, until you brought me here last week..."

He listened to her as she spoke, and he watched as she picked up her brush and continued to do a rough paint of the ginger mare. She talked to him for hours, and although anyone else wouldn't have found it particularly interesting, Thomas Shelby was captivated by anything and everything that came out of her mouth.

Gwen noticed that some of the iciness in his eyes had chipped away, and she felt her face turning warm at the way he was looking at her.

She stopped talking and waited, for he looked as though he had something he wished to say. "What is it?" She asked.

He looked away from her, and over to the horses. The faintest of pinks tainting his face.

"Come on, I'll drop you home."

She felt a little saddened that her day up there in the meadow had come to an end, but she knew that (now that she had a bicycle) she would make it her personal mission to return to this spot on Sunday. Maybe she would bring a book?

"I didn't ask before," She began, stopping just outside of the car as Tommy opened her door for her. "What are the horses names?"

"They don't have any."

Her brows pinched together, "Oh."

"You can pick them, if you'd like."

"But they're yours." She said, getting inside the vehicle. She waited until he had gotten into the drivers seat and started up the engine, before she continued. "What do they look like, to you?"

"They look like horses."

"Name wise." She said, "What do they look like. You've named Monaghan Boy; why not the others?"

Tommy looked out of the windshield, towards the three grazing horses. There was a chestnut, a dappled grey, and a snowy white.

"Don't know." He concluded, putting the car in reverse, and backed away from the fence line.

Going backwards was the worst past of being inside the car, and Gwen pinched her eyes closed until Tommy had stopped to change gear.

"Well, seeing as this used to be old farmer Trevor's land, and he had grey hair...why don't you name the grey: Trevor?"

"Because she's a mare."

"Then what about Mary?" She suggested, "After his horse?"

Tommy paused for thought, "She doesn't look like a Mary."

"Then what about Maggie?"

"Maggie isn't a racing name." Tommy murmured.

"So, what about something like..." She frowned in thought, "Magic Maggie?"

"Doesn't really have a ring to it." He said, lighting up a cigarette.

"Maggie's Whisper?" She asked then, "The colour grey always makes me think of something quiet; like a whisper."

"Grey reminds me of something loud; like thunder."

"Okay, so let's forget about Maggie." She said, "What about the white one? What does the colour white make you think of?"

"The white one is a mare." Tommy said, "And white always reminds me of a wedding."

"So...what about Wedding Belle?" She suggested.

"No." Tommy was silent for a moment, "Blushing Bride."

She smiled, a dimple appearing in her cheek as she looked out of the window to see the horses disappearing from her view, "That's a lovely name."

They didn't come up with anymore horses names. But at least the conversation had distracted Gwen from the drive, and caused her to smile until her cheeks ached.

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