Angel

3

            Three nights later, I stood before the fire escape outside Tommy's office. I pulled my coat tighter around myself, trying to keep out the cold. I was furious with my brother. The night he and his men raided the London clubs, he'd poured Arthur's medicine down the drain. Letting him be unleashed on the cockneys. "Newmarket was profitable," Tommy commented as he approached, starting the climb. "Arthur told me how you left your message," I told him, climbing up after him, "And when I asked him where his medicine was, he said you poured it down the drain. That's how it works in London isn't it. Every boss has to have a mad dog at his side. Somebody who can't be predicted. Somebody wrong in the head. Darby Sabini's got Georgie Sewell. Alfie Solomons has got some Portuguese boxer. But Tommy Shelby. Who used his own brother. You poured away his medicine and took him into their backyard and set him loose," I said angrily. Tommy stopped abruptly, looking down at me. "Opium and bromide is all I poured away," he said.

            "Tommy, he's not well and you know it!" I shouted. "Stop fucking fighting me!" Tommy roared back. "No! Somebody has to," I spat, watching as my brother pulled himself back together. "Tommy, I didn't take all those nursing classes for nothing. He's not right. You know it. I'm worried about him Tommy," I whispered, but Tommy gave no response, choosing to remain silent. I sighed, knowing silence would be all I'd get in response on the matter. "This came an hour ago. There was no name on it. But the address is Camden Town," I said softly, pulling a yellow envelope marked "urgent" out of my coat pocket. I stood on the tips of my toes, reading as Tommy opened it. "Let us break bread together," the letter said. "Polly was going to burn it," I told him. He brushed off my comment and unlocked the door to his office. "You really want me to go with you?" I asked again, our fight already forgotten. Tomas looked at me, his face even and void of any emotion. His eyes met mine as he nodded. "I'll give a call with a time and a meeting place," he reminded me, and I nodded before turning away and climbing back down the fire escape.

            I pulled my coat tighter around me, walking towards home. The night air was frigid and unforgiving, and I started to walk faster. Not due to the weather, but because of the hurried footsteps I heard behind me. "Elena Shelby?" a cockney voice called out to me, but I only walked faster. I kept my eyes on the ground, heart beating rapidly in my chest. I turned a corner quickly only to be met with a hard body. Hands gripped my upper arms, pushing me backwards into the wall. "Your brother broke the rules," a voice said as two other men turned the corner. "I haven't got a brother," I lied, struggling against the grip of the man who held me. "We can see the resemblance. Those striking bright blue eyes...There's only one other man in the whole of England with eyes like that..." the man in charge said, tracing his thumb down my cheek before gripping my chin and forcing my head up to meet my eyes. I desperately looked up and down the streets for any sign of help, but they were deserted. The man in charge clucked his tongue at my actions. "No one's coming to help you love. Oh, and as for that revolver in your pocket, I think we'll take that off your hands for you," the man said, gesturing for the second man to search my pockets. I struggled against the grip of the man holding me as I felt the gun leave my pocket.

            "Now. We must dole out punishment for those who break the rules," the man in charge said, "Do it." He spat at the ground before stalking off into the night. The second man turned my revolver around in his hands and slammed the butt of the gun against my temple. I cried out, feeling blood drip down the side of my face. A first hit me in the mouth, and my lip split open. I could feel countless other bruises and cuts being formed as they beat me, and yet I refused to let a single tear fall. I would not let these wops see me weak. Finally, after relentless punching, blood pouring down my forehead, they stopped. I coughed as they let go of me, walking off into the night as I collapsed to the floor. I had to get up. I would die out here if I didn't. I pushed myself up onto my shaking legs, willing them to take step after step towards our home. Every step was agony on my body, but I forced myself to keep going, knowing nothing good would happen if I stopped. I was met with two figures running towards me about a street away from the house. They were yelling out my name.

            "John, Arthur," I gasped out as they reached me and each of them gripped an arm to hold me up. "Bloody hell Lena, what happened to you?" John asked as he and Arthur carried me to the house. "S-Sabini's men. They said Tommy broke the rules," I gasped out, coughing. "Bloody fucking hell," Arthur muttered as we entered the front door. They laid me down on the parlour couch and I heard a loud gasp and a cry as Polly rushed to my side. "Get the first aid box now you idiots!" she barked to my brothers, looking down at me as tears filled her eyes. "I never wanted you to be involved, oh, I'm going to kill Thomas. To be involved with a gang is no place for a woman," she spat, her voice dangerously acidic. Arthur and John entered the room carrying bandages, cloths and water. Polly wetted down a cloth and used it to wash the dried blood away from my chin and my forehead.

            "Oh, God. You poor thing," Polly said, a tear falling down her cheeks. "The men were able to get to Ada in time before anything happened to her, we just got word," John said, breaking the silence. "Thank God it was only one of us that got the beating," I laughed, but Polly scowled in response. "Has anyone heard from Tommy?" I asked, looking between my brothers, but none of them made a move. "Sabini will have attacked him you know this right?" I cried out, sitting up. Polly flitted around me tending to my cuts and bruises, thankfully there were only the two on my face. "Alright, no one leaves Small Heath until we've had word of Tommy's whereabouts," Polly ordered, and Arthur and John sat down on the couch, pulling out a bottle of whiskey. "I think you need this more than we do," John said quietly, handing me the bottle. I took a deep pull, feeling the whiskey burn its way down my throat, trying to dull the pain and forget the events of the night.