To Be Alone | Tommy Shelby

Chapter 4

"Celia!" There was a pause in his speaking and she stayed quiet, knowing better than to speak before he was finished. "Have you seen my suspenders?" Her father walked into the kitchen where she was working on breakfast after descending the stairs.

"No, dad, I haven't," she shook her head, focused on making the eggs.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered to himself, going about rifling through the cabinets, the slamming of each one making her flinch. "I need those suspenders."

"Did you maybe try looking through the wardrobe, Joe?" her mother piped up from her seat at the table. She was currently peeling potatoes.

"You don't think I haven't looked there already, huh?! The place where my suspenders, my clothes are supposed to be, Eliza?!" he raised his tone while talking to his wife, something that he's been doing since they found themselves living in this house, making Celia retreat into herself and press as close to the stove as she possibly could without getting burnt. Her mother said nothing in response, knowing full well what the consequences would be if she did, and it made her husband huff. "You women don't do nothin' in this house," he grumbled as he retreated back upstairs, his boots leaving loud thuds on the hardwood.

Celia sent her mother a sympathetic glance, and her mother just sighed before the thuds were heard coming closer once more. "I'm going out. Have to meet with Charles about a deal he's made. Don't expect me back early," he stated, barely glancing in his family's direction before he opened and shut the door to the house.

"Are you leaving soon, Celia?" Eliza then asked her daughter after letting out another sigh. This behavior had become second nature to Joe, and she didn't know why she let it bother her anymore.

"Yes. I'm expected at the tailor's by eight," she responded, plating the eggs that she would be eating alongside a piece of toast.

"Very well. I'm off today, so I'll be working on this soup for us to eat for dinner," her mother stated, motioning to the potatoes she was still peeling.

"Ok. Sounds good," Celia commented, trying her best to finish the plate of food in front of her. Taking a few more bites, she then placed the dish into the sink, promising her mother that she'd wash it later as she grabbed her coat and purse before exiting the house.

She walked to the tailor's with a hurry in her step, hoping that Walter or Edith wouldn't be unhappy by her arriving right at the time she was supposed to. A start time of eight meant you needed to be there by quarter too. So she was happy when Mr. Robinson sent her a smile as she walked through the door. "Lot to get through today, Celia. Best get to work," he stated, making Celia nod before she tied her apron on.

Things were going good, and around mid-day, Tommy Shelby walked through the door. "Good afternoon, Mr. Shelby," Celia smiled and Tommy nodded, knowing the reason behind her using his surname was the professional nature of the conversation. "I'll have your suits right for you," Celia stated as she retreated to the back to grab them. "Here you are," she said, placing them on the counter.

"Thank you," he mumbled, taking a cigarette out of its pack and lighting it once it was between his lips. "That man you were with a week ago...his name William?" he asked then, letting out a line of smoke as he spoke.

"Yes," Celia nodded hesitantly, unsure of where this conversation was going.

"Where did you meet him?" was his next question.

"He's the brother of my friend. He came into the store asking me to go for a walk with him since we enjoy spending time together," she explained the backstory behind the relationship.

"Is he good to you?" This was starting to sound less like a conversation and more like an interrogation. It made Celia raise her eyebrows because she had no clue where he was going with any of this.