'Reach for the healing from emotional pain and physical injury, for emotional and spiritual intelligence, for surviving through all challenges and difficulties, for long lasting happiness and youthful joy, for getting your wish fulfilled... Reach fo...
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Sadie looked out the window anxiously as the fields flew past, hardly seeming to move at all. She bounced lightly as the car bounced through the potholes in the room, Michael not once letting up on the accelerator. They'd tried John again that morning, but he hadn't answered again. She had quickly ushered her family into the car, including Daniel, before she sent them home.
The girl's hand was set upon her husband's, squeezing it tight to try ad keep herself calm. He looked at his stressed face, wanting nothing more to kiss him and tell him it'll be ok. But she couldn't even convince herself the words were true. She looked out the windscreen when the car began to slowly, Michael beeping the horn as the horse and cart walking slowly in front of them.
'Come on. Move,' He called.
He sped up again the moment they were out of the way, flying past the horse and cart; finally letting her eyes settle upon John's house. They pulled up behind John's car as they pulled into the driveway, the pair quick to get out of the car as the engine shut off. They strode up the side of the house, Sadie jumping when a gun cocked from her left. She looked up to find John walked out of the loft with the shot gun aimed at them, before he dropped it suddenly.
'Oh, fuck. It's you,' He muttered; 'Got nothing better to do on Christmas morning?'
'Tommy wants everybody at Charlie's yard now. Come on,' Michael stated.
John cocked a brow at the pair, before he herded the dogs into the room and shut the door. He clambered down the ladder and lead them around the front of the house, his shot gun still firmly in hand.
'What's going to happen? It's fucking Christmas,' He asked.
'Look, John, we don't have time for this,' Sadie sighed.
'Come into the house.'
'Just come to the meeting,' Michael pressed.
'Have some food.'
The minute John opened the front door, Esme strode out of the house with a glare; coming to stand face to face with Michael.
'Tell Tommy Shelby we can look after ourselves,' She sneered.
'Tommy says they could come for us today,' He stated.
'Tommy says, Tommy says. Are you his fucking parrot?'
'Fuck off, Esme,' Sadie stepped in front of her husband and took a step toward her; 'It's the Mafia, all right. This is the New York Mafia we're talking about.'
'And we're the Peaky fucking Blinders,' John smirked.
'No, we're not, John. We're not the Peaky fucking Blinders unless we're together,' Michael shook his head.
