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𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙫𝙚.

𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙫𝙚 | 𝘈 𝘛𝘈𝘓𝘌 𝘖𝘍 𝘊𝘈𝘗𝘐𝘛𝘈𝘓 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘝𝘐𝘖𝘓𝘌𝘕𝘊𝘌

｡･:*:･ﾟ✧ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

ANNABEL had always known how beautiful the countryside was when she would venture out of her father's country estate. She was enamoured with the fresh air, free of the pollution of the London factories, the green valleys and the solitude for acres on end.

"Look at this, look. I love it!" Arthur exclaimed. "Your Esme was right about one thing. You can't beat the countryside."

Annabel didn't exactly feel the same way now, as she waited in the car for the Shelby brothers to take their piss. She didn't quite have that peaceful feeling now, as Arthur rambled on about how right Esme was on wanting to keep chickens and a stench riddled the air. Tommy finished his business and made his way back to the car where Annabel was waiting. With a swift movement, he opened the trunk, only to reveal to his brother John and to Annabel the body of the man he had shot dead the night before.

"For fucks sake." murmured John, cigar in his mouth.

Annabel rolled her eyes and turned around in her seat to give her back to both the dead man and to Tommy.

"Take this," She heard Tommy say, shovels hitting each other as he passed them to his brothers, she assumed. "We need to bury him."

"Who the fuck is that?" John asked.

"Right, who the fuck is that, Thomas?" Annabel asked as she brought the light towards the cigarette between her lips. Her anger had come back as she remembered what he had done and the attitude he had taken.

"It's Irish business. I thought best if I dealt with it on me own." Tommy replied to his brother, completely ignoring his woman.

"Aye, just like you do with everything." Annabel hopped out of the car, and turned to the men. "What, no shovel for me? What happened to equal rights for women?"

"Come on, we did a thousand of these in France," said Tommy, ignoring Annabel once again.

"What would you know of burying bodies, eh, Red?" Arthur asked as he and his brothers got to work.

"You went to France, I went to Argentina." Annabel answered, the memory sobering her up and chilling her bones. Annabel often tried and tired to not think about Argentina, yet the memories always returned to the surface, refusing to be drowned.

Tommy stopped in his tracks and looked at her penetratingly, trying to understand what he had missed. She pushed them back again and ripped the shovel from Arthur's hands, hoping the work she had done in Argentina could be erased by the work she could do now.

✧

LONDON, ENGLAND - THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 1921

The Peaky Blinders, Annabel at the head of them, knowing her way through the London streets, happily prancing at being back in her hometown, took London by a storm.

The gangsters were not particularly well known in London, but the Lady Annabel Lee Keats, youngest daughter of the Earl of Cardrey was, and the masses parted for the woman and her intimidating companions. Tommy had told her they were headed to Club Eden, and the woman, vaguely familiar with the placement of said club, guided her friends with pride, knowing that whomever would snitch of her whereabouts to her parents would be shot dead by her lover.