Michael Gray- Mystery Man

chapter seventeen

December 9th 1920

Anastasia woke up with a yawn, her eyes drifting to her husband who was already awake.  He lay with his hands resting on his stomach, eyes non observant as he looked off into space. It looked like he had been awake for hours, deep blue bags circling his eyes as uneven breaths fell from his lips.

"Did you not sleep well?"

Michael jumped at the sudden question, glancing at his wife he shared her a smile, "You look cute when you sleep." Anastasia raised an eyebrow, her gut telling her something wasn't right but before she could strike up another question there was a knock on the door. "Come in." Michael stated. "Mary, good morning. What is it?"

"Morning Mr Gray, there's a Mr Thomas Shelby waiting downstairs." Mary smiled. Shit. Tommy not now. He can't let Anastasia talk to him before he does. "Thank you." Michael smiled, waving off the maid as he glimpsed at his wife. Exasperation filled her features once more, her eyes slightly twitching.

"He's here." Was all she could say. Michael began to get up, taking off the blanket as he slithered on his slippers.

Looking over is shoulder he commanded, "wait here, I'll go talk to him."

Anna scoffed, "no. I'll talk to him." She seethed, throwing off the covers.

"Let me just talk to him." Michael sighed.

"No! He was my father!" She grimaced.

"Just - fucking hell! Stay here, please." Michael agitatedly begged, heading downstairs as he shut the door behind him, Anna huffing as she crossed her arms in annoyance.

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"Michael." Tommy greeted as he sat smoking, waiting in their living room.

"Alright Tommy?" Michael scratched the back of his neck.

"Where's Anna? I came to see if she was-" Tommy paused before sighing. "Judging by your body language you haven't told her."

Michael looked hopeless as he sat down opposite Tommy and released a breath he had been holding in. "How the fuck am I supposed to tell her that her fathers a fucking nut job. That never cared about her and threatened her fucking life?" Michael stressed, taking out a fag.

Tommy shrugged taking in a drag. "Just tell her straight, explain that you're there though and that it isn't her fault."

"It's not as easy as that, that's my wife." Michael sighed lighting his cigarette. "And that's her dad."

"Yeah but-" Tommy was interrupted by a loud shriek.

"You're lying. You're fucking lying!" Anastasia cried as she ran in on the scene, fists waving in the air as she charged at Tommy the same way Michael had the night he paid him a visit.

"Woah. Anna!" Tommy yelled holding his hands up as she attempted to throw punches his way.

"It was you! It was all you!" She sobbed.

"Anna, calm down!" Michael shouted grabbing his wife from behind.

"It's not true Michael. He's lying. My father, he would never." She weeped into his shoulder.

Michael gave Tommy an empathetic look over his wife's head as Tommy nodded in response, as if to say it was all okay. Michael raised his hand, dragging it through his wife's hair as he waited for her to calm down.

"Anna, Tommy isn't lying." Michael explained, bringing her head upwards.

"What?" She asked with a look of disgust, pulling back from her hug with Michael.

"Why don't you sit down?" Tommy suggested.
Anastasia said nothing, the clear utter disgust and venom evident in her glare, Tommy holding his hands up in defence.

"Anna just listen." Michael motioned to the seat next to him and she slowly sat down. "So, you remember that night where we went and collected the folder for Tommy." Michael explained, Tommy coughing. "They weren't for Tommy, they were for your father." Michael said slowly. "In that folder was a fake passport with a one way boat ticket to America so he could start a new identity. He had illegal business going on and he owed people a lot of money and things just got out of hand." Michael watched Anastasia intake every word.

"What?"

"Anna, that's not it. Not only was he prepared to leave his family. But he um... he..." Michael stuttered just as Tommy had, Anastasia nodded for him to go on. "He threatened your life. He told Tommy to get it and if he didn't he'd hurt you." Michael now lost for words as he rubbed her shoulder up and down.

"I'm sorry." Tommy spoke up, taking out yet again another fag. Anastasia was mute. She wouldn't say anything. She couldn't say anything. She just sat there, processing every piece of information.

"Anna?" Michael asked now concerned for her lack of words.

"So-so, so how long have you known?" She finally questioned, standing up and taking a step away from her husband.

"Not long at all, I found out yesterday." Michael gestured for her to come back.

"Yesterday? So everything last night," she nervously laughed, "was a lie?"

"Anna." Michael sighed, edging closer to her.

"No! I need some time." She sighed too, looking back and forth from Tommy to Michael.

"It doesn't have to be like that. It's none of our faults." Michael began.

"I need to see my mother. Tell her everything that's happened. " Anastasia explained beginning to edge to the door.

Michael now angry with her sudden decisions to see her mother raised his voice. "Anna, I don't think that's a good idea, what the fuck is all this seeing your mother?"

"She's my mum and she deserves to know." Anastasia pointed out and she ran out of the door and up the stairs, Michael now standing at the bottom of the stairs, shouting up,

"She left you once and she can do it again!" He yelled.

"She needs to know!" Anastasia bellowed back as she made her way back down the stairs, suitcase in hand.

"And where will you go? Only a matter of time before she leaves you again." Michael harshly stated.

"Fuck you." She spat and made her way out of the door, slamming it.

"Fuck!" Michael shouted before his fist landed on the wall.

"Well, well." Tommy began clapping. "What a performance."

"Not now Tommy." Michael sighed, clearly frustrated.

"It'll be okay in a matter of hours. Just give her some time to process." Tommy said, patting his cousin's back and following Anastasia's rash decision to leave the house.