Gun metal and Daisies (Thomas Shelby)

"Would you ever want to fall in love?"

The fact that the word 'lovesick' exists, that the simple absence of a person can make you feel physically ill, says a great deal about the terrible power of the human heart.

Thomas was sat in his small office at his small desk in the small betting shop. He filed through papers that he meant to work through, to examine and sign if he felt like it.

Though when he picked up the last sheet, it was in fact an envelope.

It was addressed to him in a scrawl that looked far too good for a lowly mans complaint.
He knew what was in the letter, but he didn't know what to think about it.

In his hands he held Grace's letter. The one she gave to him the night before she left for New York, asking him to run away with her.

He obviously didn't go with her that night on account that he was still in Birmingham; but he thought about her letter. He thought about the address which she listed at the bottom of the page, the place she was going to inhabit across the oceans.

Thomas, for some unknown reason, didn't throw the letter away, nor did he burn it. He left it on his desk, in between the files. He left it for another time.

It's not like Grace wasn't going to be there, should he journey off to wherever she now lived.

——

It was the seventh week of Thomas' and Dorothy's late night Saturday meetings.

They truly were Thomas' favourite time of the week. It was the time the two could be completely alone as they picked and prodded at the others brain.

Thomas had now formed a small acquaintance with the children that visited Bonny on Saturday nights for left overs.

Thomas now often found himself talking to the five children that popped in on those nights while Dorothy tried her best to feed the small baby, Tammy.

Thomas told fun stories from when he was younger to the children as best he could. Though more often than not, the kids would complain and whine as he drifted off a bit when he got lost staring at Dorothy as she looked after the small girl.

"Please, Bubs, finish the story, Charlie looks like he's going to burst from anticipation." Dorothy giggled a bit when he caught her eye and paused the story to stare.

Charlie was nine years older than Tammy, making him ten. He was the one that decided the Shelby man was a minor threat compared to the men outside the homely bakery and the two got on like a house on fire. It was truly endearing to watch.

Generally while the other three kids sat around the table, talking with Bonny, Charlie wondered over with two pieces of bread, offered one to Thomas and sat next to him.

At first, Thomas decided it wasn't worth befriending a ten year old, of course. But then as time wore on, the two found themselves going from discussing mundane things and their favourite sweet Bonny made to their day to day and both their adoration for the woman in front of them.

Charlie was the second oldest of the group, just a few months younger than Matilda who was almost eleven.

Thomas did always have a soft spot for children and just had a sense of sympathy for them. He knew kids had to grow up quickly now and there wasn't much room to ever enjoy youth as it was.

Charlie, he learned, was handy with a football and had a nack for the sport. Thomas remembered years of playing footie in the park with John. He wasn't the best at it, but the determination to push his younger brother to the ground whenever he got in his way was much stronger than winning.
So Thomas liked football too.