"even when she was lying, there was a certain truth she always told"
A pretty girl, a deal gone wrong, an ultimatum, and a death...
Another average week for the Peaky Blinders.
[T. Shelby]
[Under Editing]
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Once again, everything went to shit about as soon as it started going well. Fucking typical.
She left the Garrison before Tommy. Of course, Tommy had offered to walk her home, like the proper man he was (truly, a shockingly proper man, considering his occupation), but she'd declined, saying only that she needed to clear her head from the excitement. He'd given her a big grin, remarkably giddy in this hour of uncertainty, but he didn't argue with her.
And then she left.
She'd come home to a note on the door that's simply told her that her brother was out, brokering another deal to sell some long range rifles. She wondered for a minute who he'd gone off to meet; there were no buyers close enough. There was a man named Solomon who controlled the weapons business just outside of Birmingham, and the Gentry family, with whom they were still at odds, had a stronghold on the south. She also found it peculiar that he'd gone without her, considering their usual tactics for attaining the best prices for their weapons, but she wasn't complaining. Since meeting Tommy, she had lost interest in the normal way she'd operated for several years, including during wartime.
She had always been there to sweeten the deal.
It was the dynamic her brother and her often played up when embarking on business engagements. Théo was the easygoing broker with extensive, first hand knowledge of each and every weapon they offered, and he gained respect through both his charm and his past as a soldier. Thalia, on the hand, was the oblivious little sister who always just so happened to take an interest in whatever scum they were selling to. After a few minutes of giggly flirting, she'd have then ensnared, and her brother would not-so-discreetly offer a couple hours alone for the two.
It was a small price to pay for the extensive jump in money that was fished out in the end.
Thalia supposed she'd become numb to it. She'd done similar propositioning back home, where the disgusting men she'd bed where practically spilling their secrets in a mad bid to impress the intoxicating French beauty. She remembered every mission she'd embarked upon. Her brother, like Tommy, may have held the gun, but it was women like her who gathered enough information to tell them when to pull the trigger.
And yet, she received no medals or recognition for it. All she'd garnered was a specific skill set and a cycle of selling herself for gain (be it the gain of country or her family business).
What would Tommy think of her if he knew?
Her breath hitched, but she tore the note from her door and stepped inside with a small shake of her head. She silently chided herself, knowing that he most likely would look at her no differently. He had blood on his hands, and he'd fought, same as her. He'd understand.
Or, at least, she hoped he would.
She fell asleep with worries unspoken haunting her dreams. Luckily, she awoke without any memory of the troubling mess of nightmares she'd endured. Waking up in a cold sweat was not insulated for her, regardless of what she remembered from the night.
It was about mid day, she guessed, based upon the amount of light spilling into her tiny room. She sat up and sighed. That room was feeling more and more like a permanent residence than a resting place, and she wasn't sure she liked that fact all to much. It was far too small and far too empty. She'd brought little with her other than money and clothes. She didn't have any need of anything else.
And, perhaps, old habits die hard. It was difficult to gather any sort of anything to make the room feel a bit more homely when she still felt the need to ration everything off— fabrics, food, money, everything.
Another sigh.
Who gave a damn anymore? Not her, that's for sure. Or, that's what she told herself, at least.
She maneuvered her way into the kitchen, after slipping out of sleep-ware and into plain grey slacks and a white blouse. She was craving tea, so she put the kettle on and leaned against the table, waiting.
Hell, she must have been waiting for Tommy, because when he burst through her door like an angry squirrel, his jaw shut so tightly that his cheeks puffed out, she hardly bat an eye.
"Good morning?" She said, her tone fluctuating between a question and a statement. Tommy closed the door behind him and shoved his jacket off his shoulders before slamming it down on the table.
Clearly, he was not having a good morning.
"My fucking father showed up," Tommy seethed, his teeth gritted and bared in the same way as a caged animal. Thalia found herself more in admiration of it than fear. "He was sitting at my fucking table eating a fucking sandwich."
"I take it you are not as close with him as you are the rest of your family?" It didn't seem like she even needed the clarification, but Thalia was at a loss for what else to say.
"He abandoned us. He'll do it again."
Now that was something Thalia could relate to.
"Kick him out. It's your house, your rules." Thalia said, sure of her answer. She could tell that Tommy absolutely hated his father, and for that reason she was entirely prepared to suggest he be ruthless.
"Technically, he was at the gambling den, but I still can't." He must have seen Thalia's look of confusion because he sighed and settled down a bit to explain. "Arthur is—" the kettle screamed, so Thalia moved it off the burner without breaking eye contact—"Arthur is completely smitten with his lies. Won't listen."
Thalia sighed, nodding. She understood now. If Arthur was completely under the spell of his old man (he was looking for validation no doubt), then it would be more difficult to get their father out of town.
The two fell into a comfortable silence. Tommy just needed someone's presence to calm him, and Thalia was content to split her tea with him and engross herself in her thoughts. More than a few times, Thalia went to tell Tommy about her true character, including the fact that she'd gone searching around his business papers, but she felt that the pressure of his father coming into the picture was cause enough to stall... wait, she meant wait.
Tommy didn't stay long, unfortunately. He left about ten minutes after he'd arrived. He'd finished his tea and sighed before standing and grabbing his coat. He let out a brief goodbye, but he faltered as he stepped towards the door. His second of hesitation was lost on Thalia, who was too oblivious reading yesterday's paper.
He stooped low and kissed her on the forehead.
She jumped in her seat, looking up with a start. He was already out the door. God, he was embarrassed! Thalia almost chuckled at the thought after she regained her composure. She could still hear him trotting down the stairs at a near sprint, and she smiled into her newspaper.
