Marguerite - A Thomas Shelby story

Chapter 6

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"There are a lot of people here," said Marguerite softly, as the carriage halted. "Take my hand, Aunt Emmeline."

She helped her Aunt out of the carriage as they walked through a vine arch.

"The autumn is on its way," stated Emmeline, her gaze wandering the trees and dry plants around the sides of the church. It was a small gothic church, with short carved pinnacles and a circular shape. As her Aunt was looking around, it suddenly struck Marguerite that she was starting to get very old. As she ambled alongside her, she noticed the limp in her step, the stiffness of her movements and the veins in her hands. Wrinkles started appearing around her body, and she noticed the paleness of her arms under the black lace dress she was wearing. The black curls in her hair were now tied back into silvery split ends. Why had she not noticed this until now? Perhaps it was the indifference of each day, the tediousness of sunrise, the sadness of the sunset and the grace of the moon that had pulled the young woman from the reality of time.

Once they reached the crowd, they split and each went to greet different groups of people. Marguerite walked over to her History teacher, Mr Parsons, who was standing around under an oak tree.

"Good morning sir, it's good to see you."
"Marguerite, hello. I'm sorry about last time, I hadn't anticipated how much Ms Graham's death would affect you," he breathed, guilt and compassion wavering in his voice.
"It's no problem sir, I know it must also have been a great shock to you too finding out that a fellow member of staff had passed away."

"Yes it was a shock to all. I'm proud that despite this, you have been putting a lot, if not more effort into your work. You're a very bright young woman, Marguerite." He smiled weakly and pushed up his glasses. Marguerite shook his hand and excused herself.

Marguerite had found out about Ms Graham being her mother not much before she went missing, and what had deeply hurt Marguerite was the fact that she had never had the chance to talk to her directly about it, which is the reason why she was anxious and impatient about her return. As everyone knows, did not, however, return to the school. Such luck would be a fairy-tale.

Ms Graham had remarried, which was how she got this surname. She had therefore had many names: Galiya Jones as a child, Galiya Collins as Marguerite's mother, and Galiya Graham after remarrying.

Soon the service was going to start, so everyone made their way solemnly inside the church to take their seats. The church interior was cosy and the ceiling was relatively low, but the colours were bleak and sad. Candles were lit at every pew and statues were encased in glass boxes to the back of the church where a tapestry of the Ten Commandments was hung to remind the evil of their sins. It was unlike any church Marguerite had ever been to. There was something comforting about it, but also strange.

The priest appeared and everyone took their seats quietly. It was depressing to say the least, and Marguerite felt uneasy, but not because of the funeral. She felt as though she was being watched, as if someone were hovering around her, a dark but somehow angelic presence.

Marguerite hadn't paid attention to many of the speeches that were made by some of the people in the church, but she suddenly snapped out of her daydream when a matured woman in a fur coat made her way to the front of the church. She had thick wavy, almost curly hair, and brown eyes. Her red lipstick matched her dark eye makeup, which managed to overshadow her faint wrinkles. Something about her gave Marguerite the same uneasy feeling she had experienced moments before when reflecting. Her aura was powerful, her tone solemn but determined.

"Ms Graham, or Galiya, was an interesting woman..." The woman's voice was raspy and powerful. She was quite obviously a heavy smoker or an occasional drinker. "Galiya went under many names; Jones, Collins, and Graham. She changed lives three times, ran away from who she was. She had a hard life as a child. Having lost her Father to a brutal murder in Birmingham, her Mother sent her away to an orphanage in Cambridge to keep her safe. She started a new life there, but never saw anyone from her childhood again. However, we kept an eye on her, me and my kin, or at least those who remembered her, we kept her safe. We loved her. Once a Peaky Blinder, always a Peaky Blinder."

Silence.

She stepped down from the altar and placed a single rose on Galiya' s coffin. A quiet commotion ran through the church.

Marguerite heard someone hiss "She's a Peaky Blinder."

Time seemed to stop as the whole church watched the woman strut down the aisle, the sound of her heels echoing relentlessly on the marble.

Marguerite watched her, a mix of fear and fascination in her eyes. Aunt Emmeline whispered "Keep your head down", but she couldn't help it, and the woman caught her eye. Still walking, she fixed Marguerite with her piercing gaze and gave her a cold, passive-aggressive smile before walking out of the ceremony.

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