Angel

17

            "Do you want tea?" Ada called out to Tommy as I descended the stairs, dressed in my finest blue dress that brought out my eyes. "I'll have some," I muttered as I entered the room. Tommy remained silent, continuing his writing. "It'll help with the nerves," I muttered, too quiet for Ada to hear. She handed a cup over to Tommy as I sat down next to him. "I did you one anyway, you ignorant git," she muttered. "Ada, sit down here for a minute," Tommy said softly, folding up whatever letter he'd been writing and stuffing it into an envelope. "Ada, if anything happens to me today, I need you to post this letter," he said, handing it over to my sister. Ada remained silent, looking from the letter up to Tommy, confusion and worry in her eyes. "Stamps already on. Don't ask any questions, it's to do with insurance," Tommy told her. Ada nodded, taking the letter in her hands before speaking. "Look, Tommy, whatever it is you're involved in, just tell us," she said softly. "God you never let anybody in," I scoffed as Tommy remained silent, letting out a breath of smoke. "We love you, Tom," Ada said quietly, and my brother looked between the two of us. He made no move to say anything, and we were interrupted by light footfalls. "What are you doing up at six o'clock in the morning?" Ada asked as James entered the room. Tommy and I rose from the table and I buttoned a coat over my dress. "Ready?" Tommy nodded to James and I.

            I nodded and Tommy and James both through on their coats, getting ready to leave. "What the bloody hell is going on?" Ada called out. "Little errand," James replied. "What errand?" Ada spat out. "He just has to stand there Ada," Tommy sighed, picking up his briefcase. "Stand where? And why are you taking Lena too? What do either of them have to do with this?" she shouted. "Let's go, come on," Tommy muttered, and James and I followed my brother from the room. "James, Lena, what's going on?" Ada yelled, concern laced through her voice. "Don't listen to him, James. He'll get you killed," Ada warned, knowing nothing she said to me would have stopped me. We approached the front door, Ada still following closely behind us. "What errand?" she yelled again. "For the cause, Ada," James sighed as we followed Tommy out the door, "The good old cause." Ada slammed the door closed after watching us disappear down the street. "Is Arthur out?" I asked my brother, keeping up with his brisk pace. Tommy nodded, "Johnny Dogs is picking him up now. Taking him to the meeting place," he answered. I nodded as we turned the corner, walking towards the familiar bakery. "The next ten minutes, you don't do or say anything I haven't told you, alright?" Tommy ordered to James as he caught up with us. James remained silent, and Tommy elbowed him. "Alright?" he said again, and James swallowed. "Y-yeah," he finally answered, and my brother nodded in approval.

            Ollie was outside when we approached the bakery. "Hello, Ollie," Tommy greeted him cheerfully, making his way past him as approaching the door to the bakery. "Oye, hang on," Ollie said, pulling Tommy back. "Just you two, yeah? He stays out here," Ollie said, jutting his head towards James. "You stay here," Tommy ordered, pointing a finger at James. James nodded, turning and standing with his back to the front door as Tommy and I followed Ollie through it. I took a deep breath as we walked, trying to calm my upset nerves. Tommy slowed to a stop as we walked through the bakery, leaning slightly behind a barrel of rum to tie his shoe. Ollie sighed impatiently, waiting for my brother. Tommy busied himself with his shoe, looking obviously to his right and moving his hands constantly in Ollie's direct line of sight. Ollie rolled his eyes and continued marking the paper, ignoring whatever my brother was doing, only looking up when Tommy finally rose. He lead us through the bakery and into Alfie's office. "I'll be with ya in a moment," Alfie said, as he marked the runners in the paper, holding up a hand to Tommy. Ollie moved to stand in the corner, marking his own paper as well. We sat down across the desk from him, and I ignored the pounding in my chest as Alfie marked the paper, his legs propped up on his desk, gold rimmed half moon glasses perched on his nose. The phone rang a moment later, breaking the tension filled silence, and Alfie pointed his pencil to it, not looking away from the paper.