Pieced Together Again || Thomas Shelby

Chapter 29

I stayed by the door, itching to leave. She had lied about being a Catholic girl, as Tom pointed out. She lied about working in Galway and Dublin. She lies about a lot and I'm sure she has lied and will continue to lie about why she is here. I believe her to be the spy or 'operative' that Campbell always speaks of. Thomas doesn't think she has it in her, but I can't help it. There is something that I can't shake about her. Something off putting.

She got up to leave, but he stopped her, "Sit down." She did as she was told. "Look, Grace. You washed up in a place you don't belong, for whatever reason. My good fortune-"

She cut him off, she always was cutting people off, "and perhaps mine."

"You know that most of what I do is illegal,"

"I'm not blind," she interrupted, and he got closer to her

"and yet you'd still be willing to work for me."

"Are you offering me the job?" he scoffed at her before turning back to her, she had leaned in closer and I started to feel sick, "then I accept."

"There's something else you should know, a very important detail about my reasons for employing you," I quietly stood up, nauseous. I watched as he pulled her face to his and kissed her.

And then I left. I don't know if I was quiet about it. I didn't care. I was over it all. I felt that I had been strung along yet again. This time it was my fault. I knew that. I couldn't help it though. All I wanted was his reciprocated love. It was no longer the fact that I was 'too good' for him. We all knew that was just an excuse.

So I went to Polly's. I saw my little man Finn, even put him to bed.

As I was tucking him in, as he had just nodded off, I heard Pol behind me, "What happened, dove?"

"I don't know what you're on about Pol," I whispered, standing up and walking back to the kitchen with her.

"Your spark isn't so bright in those eyes of yours right now. How come?" She questioned me as I sat down at the table. She put a pot of tea on, and got out the whiskey.

"I think I need to go for a while. Just escape and let go."

"You've got a gypsy soul. I'm not surprised. You keep avoiding the question though. I'm not daft. What happened?" She turned to me briefly and gave me a stern look. You can't slip much past the smart woman.

"He loves her, he might not know it, but he loves her. I was supposed to be watching and listening for anything he might miss, but he gave her a job and kissed her. So, I took that as my cue and I left. I might go up to London for a week and party. Get this sorrow out of my system."

Polly may have been looking at me, but I wouldn't know because I was looking at my hands as I fiddled with them. "Well, you must do what you must. I can't make these decisions for you love as much as I wish I could. You are grown now and you have to find your way. Whether it be the gypsy way you were born from, or the Shelby way you were raised. Or you could do it my way."

"And what is your way?" she never spoke about how she got over her heartache from losing her husband and children.

"I'll never be over my children, but when my husband left, I gave myself two weeks. Three days to be sad, a week to be mad, and four to get up and get over it. You want to take a week? Then a day to be sad, two to be mad, and four to get over it. You're sad right now, so use the extra day to fuck someone. You're the last queen. So keep that head of yours up. Hell dye your hair a new color. Be the phoenix not the dove. Rise from your ashes."

I looked at the woman who raised me. I nodded and took a shot of whiskey, "I'm leaving in the morning, so I better pack a bag."

"Dance if you get the chance, show those men what those French women taught you," she laughed and smiled knowingly. I smiled right back and shook my head before getting up and giving her a hug.

"I love you, Pol. Tell Finn I will be back soon and let me know if I need to come home for some reason."

She agreed and I made my way out the house. The church wasn't far from Polly's and my place was even closer to Polly's so I made it there rather quickly.

When I got there I slung the door open and I got right to it. I packed a few outfits for nice occasions, as well as a few for secret outings. I went and got my trunk out from some of my travels- one of my missions in France to be exact. The mission where I learned to dance. Not ballet or the flapper style jazz, but burlesque.
Beautiful.
Bold.
Burlesque.
I packed it all and I left for Charlie's yard.
——
I took a car to the Lee's. I needed to hide my hair, and henna was one of the easiest and most natural ways to do so. I didn't like the thought of the chemicals some women used these days but henna was safe and had been around for ages. Zilpha's recipe was quite powerful. She used it on her own greying hair.

Some of the men patrolling the camp were stunned to see me but put their guns down upon seeing it was me.

I went straight for the mother's pitch.
"You don't just get to waltz up in here like you own the place," a man guarding the door said.
"Let her in, I've been expecting her," a strong voice came from the interior. I smirked at the man and entered.
"Thank you, I appreciate your help," I bowed my head at her.
"What is it you need, love" she looked at me with a knowing eye.
"Can you dye my hair? I don't want to be recognized where I'm headed," I asked, near begged actually.
She smirked and nodded, "come on, let's get to it then."
——
By morning I was a new woman. At the very least I felt it.

It's amazing what one small change can do to you.