Nothing Will Change

Chapter 4

She heard the commotion before she saw it. It had been a few days since her outing at the pub, a few days since she had saw the famous Shelby man. He had not graced the tailors once, and Rose could not decide if that satisfied her. Their last interaction was strange. What possessed her to be so outspoken, Rose did not know, as she would never have spoken to anyone like she did with him. Though his aura was bringing out sides to her that she did not know she had.

Ada Shelby had been the only face of the family she had seen, apologizing profusely for skipping out on their evening and staying all day while Rose worked. The two siblings were starkly different, but Ada had the same charm her brother did. But compared to him, Rose was not affected by the snide comments like she was with his. Then again Ada's sarcastic humour was one she enjoyed.

The shouting outside her window soon reached the inside of her flat block, bounding foot steps that whistled through all corners of the building until it caught her door. Rose had just enough time to reach her window to find police sweeping through the streets and taking anything they could with it, before those same police bursted through her door. Yelling at them from her space, they charged through and dove through her draws roughly, Rose letting her volume pick up. Of course until one police man grabbed her from behind, pinning her against the wall while the other men ransacked her flat.

What they were searching for, Rose had no clue, as she had no secrets and nothing to hide. But they ripped apart her draws and mattress, her possessions soon covering the floor in pieces she could not afford to fix. And just as fast as they came through, they rushed back out, the man holding Rose letting got and leaving her door wide open. Slumping against the wall, Rose panted as she surveyed the small space that was now in pieces. Voices still shouted outside, children crying to the sounds of their fathers being beaten while their mothers tried desperately to stop it.

Rose would have been at work that day, if it wasn't for Mr Brown insisting she have a day off after all her hard work that week. His business was earning money like never before, he could finally afford to have a day off himself. Crossing the room, Rose gently picked up her sketchbook, the only possession of any value to her. Everything else was merely clutter while she saved up enough money to leave. When she got up and looked again out the window, there was a man on a horse in the center of it all. Older than all the rest, in a brown coat and rough facial hair, he looked across the chaos with importance. Rose understood him for an inspector, but his reason for taking the town through his palm she did not know.

Though she questioned where Thomas Shelby was. Why in all the words spoken about him being king, he let his kingdom be beaten. He likely was safe while everyone below him was picking up pieces of furniture and their own clothes. His charm only got him so far, and Rose began to be more curious of just what type of man Thomas Shelby could be.

To overturn her mind of having to clean her flat, Rose decided to take her business and have a drink. She also had not been back to the Garrison since that night, the temptations of alcohol never being a strong one for Rose. But she missed the warmth, and the kind woman behind the bar, so she packed up her sketchbook and chose to leave her flat. Cursing, she found her lock had been broken, and she cursed a second time knowing she would have to dig around for money to fix it. Passing her landlord he gave her an apologetic grin, Rose offering her help for when she would return. She could not work in a cluttered space, she had to get out and try and find what actually happened.

There were talks of communists, but she had the faintest ideas of anyone who could be communist. After reading about it at the farm, she grew sympathetic with their policies, though she would not admit it in fear of prosecution. Especially if that was who the police were looking for. Sending looks of sympathy was all she could give her neighbors, and yet that seemed to sufficient, her navy coat wrapped tightly around her.