Eye of the Storm | Thomas Shelby

I

SEPTEMBER 1914

Evelyn Shelby watches with a fond smile as her husband, Thomas Shelby, walks back into their bedroom after checking on their son, James.

It was the fifth time Tommy had gone to check on their sleeping two-year-old in the span of a couple of hours. It reminds her of how they both acted when they finally moved their son into a room of his own. However, this time, she can't blame him for wanting to spend any extra moment with their son.

"We could bring him in?" Evelyn suggests to her husband. Sure, it would break the training as they have finally got their son to sleep in his own bed. After all, this would be their last night as a family for a while or for the last time.

Tommy sits on the edge of the bed and shakes his head. His steely blue gaze is on the empty fireplace. Evelyn moves from her place and wraps her arms around him from behind. She places a kiss onto his bare shoulder.

Evelyn isn't sure what to say at this moment. Her husband of nearly 3 years is heading off to war. She knows she can provide physical comfort. She has been for the past few weeks since he and her two brothers-in-law made the decision to go. She treasured any moment to have her husband close in her arms as they stole the breath from each other. It was the only way she knew how to deal with the imminent future.

She doesn't have the words to soothe worries and doubts. She only knows how to use her body.

She suspects Thomas knows this. He can see it. He has to have noticed the way she ducks out of all war talk. She avoids the bloody papers. She can't stand seeing men shipped off and never returning home. She is scared of the empty spaces that will take over the home and streets.

She doesn't want to lose her husband to this. Her son deserves to know his father.

"Are you angry?" Tommy asks.

Surprisingly, anger wasn't an emotion she felt when Thomas had broken the news to her that fateful August afternoon. She thinks maybe she was numb to the news.

"I'm scared, Tommy," she admits in the sanctuary of their bedroom.

"Scared I'm going to die?" He asks bluntly.

"Death would be mercy."

Tommy snorts. "You and Pol in your heads again?"

Evelyn recoils, insulted. She isn't in a gaming mood with her husband. She finds nothing funny about what they are about to go through. She knows Thomas and most of the men are optimistic that the war will be over by Christmas. She doesn't share that piece of optimism. She finds that things like war can't be on a timetable. There is a cost of war that everyone pays the price of. She doesn't want her cost to be a letter of her husband being dead or missing. She doesn't want to have anything but photos to mourn over.

She hears Tommy shifting behind her and his warm, callous hands rub her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Evelyn sniffs but doesn't look at her husband. His arms come around her waist and she is pulled into his lap. She tries to hide her face, but he cups her chin and forces her to face him.

"Tell me the truth."

Evelyn shifts and she straddles his lap. She wraps her arms around his neck and blue and grey eyes collide. She runs his fingers through his dark brown hair and pushes his bangs out of his face. "I"m scared you'll come back and your eyes won't be the same. You won't be the same. War changes men."

She knows that her husband is more sensitive in certain ways. He is in tune with his emotions and those of others. He isn't distant as most men are. It's one of the things she loves most about him especially between the two of them. He always seems to understand and know what she was feeling without her having to articulate it.