sweet french. peaky blinders

70

"Good morning!" Arthur barked out a screech, ignoring the silence that blanketed the street as John shoved him forward.

The inside of the house was dark, the windows covered by a thin, billowing curtain, letting only a slither of light stain the thick carpets. Through the hallway and into the sitting room, Polly stopped by the fireplace, gazing around the room at the tiny, expensive detailing that decorated the walls, floors and seats that were dotted around.

"You said you were gonna buy Ada a house."

"Yep, that's right, I did," Tommy said in confirmation.

"And Lucille and little Adds," Polly added.

Tommy sighed, pushing his hands into his pockets. "Thank you, Pol."

Polly turned quickly, her head tilting upwards so she could see beneath her smart hat. "She didn't know?" Tommy shook his head as if Lucille's surprised look wasn't answer enough. "Sorry."

Lucille easily took up his side, nudging into him to gain his attention. Tommy sighed again, but it was not without a smile.

"You bought us a house," she said, more in a statement than a question.

Tommy smirked, glancing down at her through lowered eyes. "Can't have my girls stuck in Watery Lane with the likes of these," he said, nodding to his three brothers, who pushed about in the corner of the room, looking somewhat out of place.  "But I had a bit of cash left over."

"This is ours?" Polly said, still looking around.

"No, Polly, this is yours," Tommy said.

"Because you deserve it," John said, and a round of nods backed him up.

"What would I do with all these rooms."

"Well, you could relax for one. Come here on weekends. It had a garden, eh. You love gardens. You can grow roses, Pol," Tommy said, following her around to the settee. "I don't know. Have a piano. Invite people round and you can have a sing-song, eh."

"God help the bloody neighbours."

"Fuck the neighbours!" Arthur shouted.

"Welcome home, Pol," John said.

There was a moment of silence again, spreading dangerously through the room as Polly was lost to her thoughts. John and Arthur shared a worried look. Tommy intercepted them.

"Arthur, why don't you take the boys outside," he said, nodding his head to the door.

Already knowing what Tommy would undoubtedly say, Lucille followed the boys out to the car that waited at the bottom of the path way. John stopped by her side.

"What's that about in there?"

She remembered what Tommy had said- this was their secret. "He's just trying to cheer her up. She hasn't been herself, you know that."

Before he could argue, Lucille hurried forward to the car, slipping her hand into the back seat where her bag sat tucked beneath the floor. She pulled out the folded document, hiding it beneath her arm as she slipped around John, avoiding his eyes with a twirl. Lucille entered the house again in the middle of their conversation.

"Told you what?"

"Told me what it is that would make you happy," Tommy said.

He looked up as Lucille stood in the door way and noticed the document in her hand. He shook his head sharply, and turned back to Polly.

"I've spoken to our contacts in the police. They have contacts in the council and they have contacts with people who keep the parish records, who Lucille was able to talk to. Records of adoptions and confidential forced removals," he continued. "Pol, I'm going to find your son and daughter, and I'm going to bring them home. That's what this house is for. So you can bring your family where they belong."

Polly's head snapped up to him in a fright, her eyes weak and glossy. Lucille tucked the paper beneath her waistline and sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as she sat completely still.

"What?"

"We're moving up Pol," Tommy said.

The house, much like Polly's new one, was far from the ancient antique on Watery Lane that had most likely seen more years than all of their ages combined. Here the walls were a clean, red brick, free of the tarnishing of black smoke and thick smog, and blessed with a quietness the family could only have imagined.

Lucille let her hands trail against the smooth, patterned wallpaper of the hallway as she made her way into the house, leaving Adds with her hand tucked safely in her father's fingers.

It felt so familiar, somehow. As she walked through to the kitchen, it was almost like she knew exactly where each room lay. An arched window sat directly above the sink basin, the shutters pushed up, letting a thin veil of golden light fall through against the cool, tile flooring. On the sill sat a fresh bunch of lavender stalks, perfectly long and branched like those that used to stand on the bench in her father's kitchen. The living room too felt familiarly french in all of the right ways, with velvet tall chairs, a strong emerald green, and wide, plant-surrounded windows.

Lucille turned, taking Tommy by two hands. "All of this, for us?"

He nodded, taking his attention from the room and placing it onto her. "You like it?"

"Like it?" she exclaimed. "I love it. It's perfect. The perfect blend of the farmhouse and Watery Lane, don't you think?"

"That's exactly why I picked it."

Lucille hurried over to her daughter, picking her up and bouncing her in her arms. Though Adds was older now, it was a habit she could not break. "Isn't it perfect, Adds? This is our new home."

"My room?" Adds called out, reaching for her father.

Tommy caught her in his arms, swinging her into balance. "Let's go see if we can find it."

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