broken toy soldier { tommy shelby } UNDER EDITING

five: sinister kid

The sound of an abrupt knock at the door woke both Iris and Tommy from their peaceful sleep. It had to be Iris's mother.

Iris shot up from the bed as she heard the door swing open. 'What do I do?' she mouthed at Thomas.

"Sit on the bed." He whispered croakily.

She did as told, too disorientated from her sleep to even consider another option.

Fleur scampered in then, looking as thin and ghostly as ever. "Iris, what are you doing in Thomas's room? And in your nightgown." She asked curtly as she looked her daughter up and down in disdain.

"I was just checking on him. I was worried, mother." The word tasted foreign on her tongue, but calling Fleur anything other than 'mother' earned a smack upside the head.

Fleur didn't even acknowledge Iris's response as she rattled through the box she had brought with her in search for the right medicine. Unhinged as Fleur was, she was still as good a nurse she had always been. "Go and make me a cup of tea, child."

Iris dipped her head respectfully and made for the door. "Fuck." She exhaled as soon as she left the suffocating room.

Fleur had never liked her first-born, that much was obvious. She saw Iris as a menace, a harlot; whereas Martha was the apple of Fleur's eye before she went distant, and she even still occasionally held conversations with Martha.

Iris was definitely her father's daughter: the same sense of mischief, same thick blonde hair and dark green eyes. Unfortunately for Iris, when Samuel's infidelities began, this only served to make Fleur resent her daughter even more.
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"Here you go, mother," Iris said as she placed the steaming mug on the drawers at the foot of Tommy's bed.

Fleur sniffed. "Clear off, then."

Rolling her eyes and setting her jaw as not to send a retort flying at her mother, Iris left with fists balled at her side.

Today was Monday, meaning Iris had her course at 13:30. Half of her wanted to stay in bed and wallow over recent events, whilst the other wanted to take her mind off the brewing war between her and the Digbeth boys. The latter half won. So Iris ran a bath, quietly doing so, and got ready for the day.

Dressed, made-up and hair done, Iris popped her head round Tommy's door to bid her mother and Thomas farewell but found no sign of Fleur. "Where is she?" Iris asked as she re-fixed a pin into her the rebellious bun in her hair.

"Gone. She didn't say bye?"

Iris shrugged. "Maybe it was when I took my bath. How are you, anyway?"

"I'm alright, should be back on my feet tomorrow or the day after."

Iris raised an eyebrow. "So you're staying here the night again?"

Tommy nodded slowly. "That a problem, Miss Iris?"

"Not at all. Right, I'm off to my class now. Don't miss me too much."

She stood up to go but Thomas caught her wrist. "Take me gun, Iris." He ordered, his gaze serious and his tone stern. He reached under his pillow and passed it to her.

"What if someone comes to the house? You'll be unprotected."

"No one's coming to the house, that'd be plain daft. Now go on, let me sleep." He beckoned her out with a jerk of his neck and she obliged.
                                -- --
As Iris walked, she couldn't help but feel incredibly anxious and exposed. No police officers would be after her for Robert's murder - the Diggy boys weren't snitches, that much she couldn't dispute - but with none of the boys accompanying her, Iris would be destitute of defence if it weren't for the gun she had concealed in her baby blue purse. Every man that walked past, she stared at accusingly. Iris didn't know if the Digbeth boys had recruited men, other gangs, anyone to help them win the war they waged just nights before.