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            Ada's free hand was clutched in mine, her other holding Karl against her chest. The mood was black, and the rain drizzled lightly down on us as we stood looking down somberly at the freshly dug grave. My lips were pressed together in a hard line as I let Ada squeeze my hand as hard as she needed to get through the burial of her husband. I looked upwards, peering through the black veil that covered my face as our elder brother began to speak.

            "I promised my friend Freddy Thorne that i would say a few words over his grave if he should pass before me," Tommy started. "Amen," Arthur interrupted loudly, but fell quiet once I met his eyes with a hard glance. "I made the promise when we were in France. Fighting for the King. But war didn't take Freddy. Pestilence took him. But Freddy passed on his spirit and soul to a new generation before he was cruelly taken," Tommy continued, gesturing to the boy in our sister's arms, "I promised I would read his favorite poem over his grave. He told me the poem is about revolution." "Amen," one of the men from a communist party Freddy had been involved with shouted.

            Tommy removed a slip of paper from his waistcoat and read aloud, "Scatter as from an unextinguished hearth, ashes and sparks...Be through my lips to unawakened earth, the trumpets of a prophecy...O wind. If winter comes. Can spring be far behind?" He finished and folded the paper, placing it back in a pocket. Those who had come to Freddy's burial fell into a quiet chatter as Tommy crossed the path towards Ada and I. "Ada. I want to talk," he said, and Ada handed Karl off to a friend, who promptly left the two of us alone with our brother.

            "How is the boy taking it?" Tommy asked. "He's fine. When he asks I resort to saying 'heaven'," Ada replied, her eyes coldly meeting Tommy's. There was a small pause before Tommy spoke again. "We thought now Freddy's gone, you might have come back to Birmingham," he said. Ada half smiled incredulously, her gaze settling on the cars waiting to drive us back to our estate. "Do you know how funny it is that you've got chauffeurs in uniform now?" she said. "Just for the occasion..." Tommy replied. "Do you know how unfair it is you've got four Bugattis when half the country's starving," Ada said, her voice hard. "So they've made you ashamed of us," Tommy assumed, vaguely gesturing to one of the communist parties that was rolling up one of their banners.

            "Sometimes when I think about how I used to be, it makes me embarrassed," Ada said, slowly letting go of my hand. I knew what she meant, though I couldn't pretend her words stung, as I was still heavily involved in the family business. I was grateful for the interruption Aunt Polly created when she approached us carrying Karl. "I caught him trying to pinch flowers off a grave," she smiled. Ada held out her arms to take her son, but Aunt Pol held back, looking to Tommy. "Is she coming home?" she asked. "I'm going home," Ada spat in response. "It's alright Polly. We make Ada embarrassed," Tommy said, cutting off whatever Polly was going to say. "That's not what I said," Ada started, but I cut her off. "There's another reason we want you home," I said, and she looked from me to Tommy, waiting for an explanation.

            "We're planning an expansion," he started, and a look of disgust formed across Ada's features. "Oh, Tommy," she sighed. "I'm taking premises in London," Tommy started. "Tommy, it's a funeral, business can wait," Pol interrupted. "If Ada was sobbing, I'd wait. But she's not," Tommy replied, and Ada glared at him. Tommy ignored her look and continued on, "The expansion means it will be dangerous to be a Shelby in London for a while." "Yeah, well, I'm not a Shelby anymore," Ada replied, before turning to Aunt Pol and I. "And I'm not a Thorne either. I'm free....Come on Karl, let's get you home," she cooed to her boy, taking him and following after the communists. "Oh and Ada, they're not Bugattis, they're Daimlers. Much more expensive," Tommy called out to her. "I told you to let me or Lena do it," Polly sighed. Tommy stomped his cigarette out before replying, "It'll be alright. I'll have some men watch her house until the danger's passed." "Until the danger's passed," Polly muttered as Tommy walked back towards our family. "That'll be the bloody day," I replied, linking her arm with mine as we rejoined our family.

            The silence was broken by a roaring engine. A boy on a motorbike ran down the path of the church. I watched as he pushed through the crowd to whisper something in Tommy's ear. Tommy nodded and the boy took off back to his bike. "Everyone into the cars," Tommy barked, and Pol and I followed after him. "What's happened?" I asked, meeting my brother's icy blue eyes. "The Garrison," was all Tommy muttered in response. I leaned back in my seat, the ride wouldn't be too long.

            Once we arrived, shock was written all over my face. The Garrison....it had been blown to pieces. Our once fine establishment was blasted to smithereens. I followed Tommy up to the coppers standing outside. Windows were shattered, debris was scattered all over the street. "It happened at exactly seven am," the copper on Tommy's payroll, Moss, informed us. "Nobody saw anything. Our patrols were not in the area," he continued. I picked up the wheel of a pram in the doorway, studying it. "Mr. Shelby, do you have any idea who might have done it?" Moss asked. I watched, placing the pram down as Tommy pulled out a roll of notes, handing one to Moss. "I would say it was something to do with the gas. It's just been fitted," he said to the copper. Moss took the money from his hand. I turned my gaze away, stepping inside of the once grand building now blown to shreds.

            "Miss, the structure is not yet declared safe," Moss called out to me, but I ignored him, I picked up something glittering on the ground, walking back out to Tommy and Aunt Pol, who'd just arrived. "This is all over the street," I told him, handing him the green glittering object in my hand. "Confetti," Pol breathed. "Thank you. We'll be alright now," Tommy said not even bothering to look up at Moss, who touched his cap and headed towards his car. "Tommy, what?" I asked him as he dropped the confetti and dusted his hands. "I think this was somebody's way of inviting us to a wedding," he said lowly, turning from Pol and I and striding away. "Who?" I called out after him, but he only continued walking. "Tommy, who did this to us?" Pol called after him, but yet again, Tommy only kept walking. "He infuriates me sometimes," I muttered, and Polly brushed a long brown curl from my shoulder in response. "He infuriates us all, love," she sighed.

            "Come on darling, the shop's not going to run itself," Pol said, and I nodded dutifully, following her to our headquarters. When we entered the room was filled with smoke, the sound of coins being exchanged, and odds being yelled. There never was a dull moment. Polly and I were in the process of putting away our things and settling in for the day when Jimmy Jesus called out to me. "Elena? Do we know who did it yet?" he asked, using my full name by way of respect. "Tommy says to say it was gas until we know," I answered him, and he nodded walking on into the room carrying one of our export boxes. "We're making no bloody money out of this," Polly commented as we watched our men help Jimmy with boxes of car exports. "Tommy says automobiles are the future," Jimmy replied. "Tommy says a lot of things. Doesn't mean they're true," I jested, tickling my youngest brother Fin as he walked by with a box.

            "Lena, did he say who did it?" John asked me as I walked fast into the betting shop. "He's gone to the Black Lion," I replied with a shrug, walking towards the door that led to our house. "On his own?" John asked incredulously. "He does everything on his own," I replied with a sigh, unlocking the door and allowing Polly and my brother to walk through after me. I handed Polly the key and she locked the door to the betting shop behind us. I sighed once more, letting myself relax into the peace that filled the house, away from the loudness and constant movement of the betting shop. "Should I go to the Black Lion?" John asked. "No," Polly replied, striding into the kitchen to put a kettle on. "Where's bloody Arthur?" John spat, chewing on a toothpick. "Protecting the Garrison's stock of whiskey from the police," I replied casually, unlocking one of the five safes in the parlour. "Lena, it's like things are getting out of hand," John said cautiously. "So get 'em in hand," Polly answered him, handing me diamonds to put in the safe. I closed the door after placing them inside and spun the lock.

            "This morning, Ada said we all look like we work in a factory under the ground. She said we all look like ghosts," John said, breaking the short silence. "She'll be back," I said confidently. "When?" John complained. "When she needs us," I answered, knowing my sister well. We were only a year apart, and we wrote each other at least once a week, now that she lived in London. "Anyway, who the fuck would blow up our pub?" John asked. "That's six," I glared at my elder brother. "Six what?" John asked, confusion taking over his features. "Six fucking questions since I walked through the door," I spat, hitting him upside the head as I passed. "Soon you're gonna to have to start being the man who gives the answers. You can't depend on your little sister for everything," I told him harshly. "W-why?" he asked. "Seven," I sighed in annoyance, giving him a hard stare. "When London happens you'll have to hold up your end. Or we'll find somebody who can," Polly told him, handing me a cup of tea as she placed a hand on my shoulder. My brother may have been older than me in age, but his mind was severely lacking.

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