Bête noire → Peaky Blinders [Tommy Shelby] [ BOOK 1 ]

Epilogue

Epilogue: Shed a tear

He called her name out, but she didn't respond. The overwhelming sorrow answered on her behalf, deafening his ears with her eternal silence.

The grief surged with every expelled breath, always reaching higher peaks, never sufficiently soothed by his long intakes of the damp spring air. Tears began to spill from his helpless eyes onto the newly growing grass. His gaze fell from bloom to bloom. In that moment the sure knowledge that life would go on without her, that time was only stopped for him, undid his completely.

All pretence of quiet coping was lost and he sank to the damp bench not caring about the water that quickly soaked his to the skin. His bruised fingers clasped her school photograph, she was smiling, content. Unlike he and the rest of the flock that gathered around her coffin to mourn their significant loss.

He'd grieved before. The first wave of despair came with his mother's departure, but being the level headed soul he was, he knew there was no other option but to remain strong for his brothers, and in that day, he became a man, in contrast, today, he faltered to a child, wailing helplessly for someone who wouldn't return.

It didn't take a blind to see that Thomas Shelby was a man of very little emotions. Alas, it changed over the four year period in which he delved so deeply in love with Caroline, exploring his newfound emotions hand in hand with a woman who accepted him for the monster he was and adored him anyhow. She was the devil in disguise, but in his eyes, she was an angel and she'd been called home too soon.

The prying hands around him didn't bother to reach out and sympathise their touches on his shoulders. Today was a day of utter bereavement and if he was helplessly crying out, displaying his true feelings for all to see, then so be it, but they were not going to tell him that things would get better, because without Caroline Shelby in all of their lives, they were doomed and decaying.

Charles wailed in his black suit. He was unsure as to why he was crying, but to others, he was not hungry nor tired. He was distressed without his mother who hadn't returned home in a week, and rightly so. With pictures surrounding his bed and countless of handwritten letters addressed to him for certain milestones in his life, he'd never forget about her, but memories could not compare to physical consistency.

Polly lost a second daughter. It was no secret that she had a weak spot for Caroline, having taken her under her wing from their unsteady greeting four years ago. When she believed she had nobody, Caroline was always in her corner, encouraging her to stay strong for the sake of sanity and reminding her that one day, light will shine through the darkness in the rut in which she was stuck in. Oh, how times have changed.

John's head hung low, shielding his red-rimmed eyes from his wife who pressed her hand against his forearm, telling him that it was okay to break every so often, especially on occasions so daunting, but he wouldn't budge. He made a promise to Caroline to remain secure in order to piece Thomas together. He tried not to cry, but their bond was something unforgettable and her absence was gut-wrenching. 

Arthur ran his fingers through his hair from beside Linda, wondering if he wasn't so foolish and slow, maybe he'd have been able to save her. In the moments of her death, he didn't spend the costly seconds by her side. Instead, he caved in the skull of the man who signed a suicide plea alongside John.

Nor was Oscar able to bid his goodbyes. By the time he fell to Caroline's side, her eyes had shut for one last time, but her touch was still warm and with his fingers entwined with hers, he ferociously cried, begging for a miracle to revive her, but with the blood spewing from her lips and her wound, he knew she was gone before it was announced. So, in the midst of the crowd, watching the coffin lower, he shakily blew hot air through his teeth in a desperate attempt not to cry from beside Rosaleen who rubbed his back. Caroline wanted him to live life to the fullest, but without her, he had nobody and he was better off dead.

Michael cried until there was nothing left inside but a raw emptiness that nibbles at his insides like a hungry rat. His irises were threaded scarlet and his eyeballs hung heavy in their sockets. His whole body hung limp like each limb weighed twice as much as it had before and just moving it about was a slow, painful effort. The sun still shone in the sky, but not for him, the birds sung in bursts of melody, but not for him, for him there was no beauty left in the world-not without his love, Caroline.

Loved by some, hated by many. Regardless of the public's stance on Caroline, she made a huge impact amongst all. On a straight path to purgatory to decide her fate, she had a devil on her shoulder and on the other, an angel. 

For the greater good, she established a home for children in hopes to love them all despite the possibility of their adoption. She knew kids of a certain age weren't placed promptly on the podium, but no matter, she'd love them as though they were her own, or so, that was the goal in which she marvelled in, sighing happily with each thought she proceeded towards the charity.

Her golden heart was tarred, though. She was merciless, ruthless and cruel, but only because she had to be. With a gangster father and a self-centred mother, she had to raise both herself and her brother, and unfortunate circumstances called out her name, beckoning for her to trek into the dark, and she did, only, she had a conscious, one that remained sturdy for children who needed help, because she wished that someone would have saved her in the way she would for the children in the Shelby foundation.

She killed, she cut, she burnt, she bruised. Her victims lay six feet under, but not for impulsive reasons. They would surely rot in hell, because if they caused her harm, they'd be dead, but if they laid a finger on those of whom she loved, they'd be writing in fire for eternity. Some thought she'd face the same punishment for her crimes, but others begged to differ, hoping and wishing an eternal slumber on white satin sheets with feathered pillows. Or, in Tommy's case, he hoped she was surrounded by the same darkness that they met in, because one day, he'd join her.

Truth be told, Caroline had already planned the day in which she'd cease to exist. On paper, she'd written that she wanted a small gathering of only those who knew her best, surrounded by her favourite roses, clothed in her wedding dress without the presence of her small son who'd be terrorised by the sight of his mother's corpse.

Instead, it was quite the opposite. People far and wide came to mourn the loss of Caroline; perhaps one of the most vocal women of their country in the century. For better or for worse, she was a hybrid. She touched many, to kill or to kiss, but either way, everyone dies, and the last respects could be paid by a great sendoff, one that many people attended, bringing their utmost sympathies for the family she left behind.

She may not have known half of the people who turned up for the ceremony, but they all knew of Thomas and to watch such an infamous monster shrivel under the excruciating curse of grief caused all those around to frown and shed a tear. Without a doubt, Tommy would make his comeback to the industry bigger and badder than ever before, avenging his wife's death with only the cruellest intentions imaginable, and rightly so. Only, nobody knew what he was capable of before, and now, his mind swirled with venom and his mouth spoke with poison. From here on out, he was on the prowl, ready to kill.

The coffin gleamed in the early morning light that streamed through the cathedral windows. It was expertly crafted not to bring comfort to the departed but to soothe living. It was built with love to be the final resting place of one who had been so adored in their lifetime. It's faux-gold handles and polished sheen helped to reduced their trauma to wracking waves that were at least more manageable. They had to see their mother in something of beauty, something that showed what she had meant to them.

They laid flowers on the top that would be placed at the gravestone, everything beautiful to hide a reality their hearts could not bare. They brought her here to entrust her to God, to pray that he take good care of her, as in their hearts they knew he would. But all at once heaven seemed so far away and they would be glad of this grave to visit when they needed her. Then too they would bring the flowers and imagine her safe and sleeping in this fine casket.

Thomas surveyed the scenery in front of him as the spring air blew through his dishevelled raven hair. With Charles in his arms, tossing and turning in the grip that forced him to remain put, Thomas grit his teeth, oblivious to the noises which faded in the background. Now, it was just he and his son present, but the ghost of Caroline lingered over her men, placing kisses to their temples and elongating her fingers over their skin. She was gone, but she'd never leave.