To Be Alone | Tommy Shelby

Chapter 1

The inspiration for this story comes from Hozier's song 'To Be Alone'.

It begins at the start of Season 2.

It is set in late 1921.

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People hurried down the streets of Birmingham. It was fastly approaching the time that the factory whistle would blow for shifts to start. Celia Farraday was one of those people who were hurrying to get to where she needed to be.

"Sorry," she mumbled an apology as she bumped shoulders with a man dressed in soot-covered clothing.

"Watch where you're walking, huh?!" the man spat back with unnecessary anger, but Celia didn't bat an eyelash. No one was nice in Birmingham. That was something she had to learn quickly. Clutching her small handbag closer to her body, she cut the interaction off there and continued on her way to her work.

She soon approached the shop where she was employed: Walter and Edith Robinson's family owned tailoring business. She mainly kept track of the storefront, but also dabbled in some seamstress work of her own. "Good morning, Mr. Robinson," she greeted her boss while walking inside, bells clanging together on the door to let the older man know that someone had entered.

"Hello, Celia. Beautiful morning, isn't it?" Mr. Robinson was always in a chipper mood. Celia wondered if he was one of the enlightened ones who had figured out their purpose in life.

"About as beautiful as one can be in a town like this," she responded with a nod and a smile, making her boss chuckle. She took her spot behind the counter beside him then, reaching down to grab the apron she wore so that she could tie it around her body.

"Ah yes. 'S also a beautiful day to get work done," Mr. Robinson nodded before slipping past the curtains to head into the back of the store. "Oh, Celia!" he called after a moment's silence. She turned to face him as he appeared again, "we have an important customer coming in today, a Mr. Tommy Shelby. He does not need to pay for his items," he informed her, watching as she nodded along with his words.

"Ok. Thank you for letting me know, Mr. Robinson," Celia smiled before spinning around to greet the man who had entered the store.

After some time that was spent dealing with a few customers and stitching together some items, the business' matriarch graced the shop with her presence.

Edith Robinson was a sweet, older woman who Celia found herself at times wishing she was related to. "Good morning, Celia!" Edith greeted the brunette-haired woman behind the counter, a cheery smile on her face.

"Hello, Edith!" Celia's smile matched the woman in front of her. Unlike Mr. Robinson, Edith didn't care for formalities, and even went as far as to scold Celia for calling her by her husband's surname. "How are you today?" she questioned, watching as Edith placed a small, letter-sized envelope on the counter in front of her. "What's this?" she asked then.

"A letter. For you. Seems important. It was marked as urgent at the post," Edith explained, giving Celia a knowing look before she went into the back to find her husband.

Celia stared down at the envelope for a moment, taking in the bright red stamp in its upper corner as she wondered who it was from. She'd worked it out with Walter and Edith that any urgent postage be sent to the shop's box, since her parents were so adamant about being in charge of the mail that was brought into their house. Celia knew that some letters meant for her wouldn't ever see the light of day due to the carelessness that her father holds. So after a few moments, she flipped the envelope over and broke its seal. What was waiting for her on the inside made her stomach drop: