Passion Bearers

The smoke and mirros

Tess remembered how her father would drink himself into a stupor after watching his brothers die in front of his eyes. It happened in a shootout with some other gang, the Russians, they said. Tess had been little then but she remembered how her father returned home crying, crumpled after all three of his brothers were shot dead. The bonds between family members were always strong with the gypsies, but the bonds of brotherhood were sacred.

She remembered that look in her father's eyes when he returned home that night. He looked lost, maddened, shocked.

Tess had forgotten how her father looked back then. She shoved it back far into her mind, never to be opened again. She buried all her memories of her father with him. But, Tess couldn't help but be reminded of him each time she woke in the dead of night and saw the same face on Tommy.

He would scream often in his sleep, sobbing and screaming out strange names. Tess would gather him in her arms and he'd hold onto her so tightly that she saw bruises the next morning, causing Tommy to curse in apology. Sometimes he wouldn't sleep at all. Instead, he'd take long walks outside, doing God knows what. Most of the time though, they'd spend their nights together, wrapped around each other's arms. Tommy became insatiable since he arrived from war, dragging her into bed at every opportunity. Although, Tess doubted it was because he missed her. More so than anything, his touches were desperate, fervent. Tess could feel that he was escaping something, something very terrible.

Sometimes, she felt like offering Tommy physical solace was all she could do. He became so reserved since coming back, going in long hours not talking to anyone, holed up in his office. He'd drink alone often, leaving bottles of whiskey and gin behind him, as well as endless butts of cigarettes. Tommy became really invested in Peaky business as well, going around to check the horses and the numbers. Gone was the family man before the war. There was now a glint of determination in Tommy's eyes, like something died within him to give birth a whole other thing anew.

Neither of them addressed the fact that he did not write to her during the war for a good week or so after he came back. Tess wanted to yell at him how she had nearly gone insane from him disappearing on her and then coming back as if nothing was wrong. She wanted to scream that she entrusted him with her heart, that she loved him, yet he shoved it back into her hands.

Tess' love for Tommy was agonizing and impossible. One would think that a wife should love her husband. That it was natural. But, loving Tommy was like loving the fire. While you loved it and adored and approached nearer to it, all it would do is burn you back.

There were moments when Tess looked at Tommy, after such a long time of not being able to see him, and she felt her heart being ruptured. He seemed so distant, so cruel, like he could crush her heart any second. Tess knew what love looked like. It did not look like what Tommy had for her. To know that only made the pain of carrying this feeling worse. So, she was careful not to dive deeper in those feelings. She told herself to be a good wife, a good mother and forget about Tommy loving her back altogether. Tess thought that Tommy deserved to have somebody love him, even if he wouldn't love her back.

So, when it came time to talk about how he had not written to her about the war, Tess forced herself not to get impassioned. Her grandmother once told her that feelings were like weeds when it came to conflict. They did nothing but prevent it from being resolved.

" Tommy", she asked him one night as they were getting ready for bed, a week or so after he came back, " What happened to you in the past three years?".

Tommy, clad in only some sleeping pants, looked in the other direction, his eyes unfocused. He didn't say anything for a little while as he lit his cigarette, taking a few drags.

" What do you want me to say, Tess?", he asked her, " I was fucking fighting the bloody war".

Tess stared at Tommy with a hard look, knowing that he was avoiding the fact that he forgot her. All those letters that she sent him were left unanswered. He couldn't even imagine how terrified she was for him, knowing that he could die any moment and she'd be the last person to know.

" All those letters I sent you, you didn't read them, did you?", she asked him a sad tinge in her voice, "For three years, Tommy, three years, I heard no word of you. You could've been on the other side of the world and I wouldn't know".

He looked at her, his head turned sideways, his eyes capturing the light of the fire. There was no passion in him, no real connection. Looking at him made Tess feel as if she was swimming through a cold, cold ocean.

" But I didn't go anywhere did I? I was just across the channel, digging the tunnels", Tommy replied, taking a drag of the cigarette, the smoke spreading through the room.

Tess sighed, crumpling her nightgown, frustration building up inside her. She wanted to spit in his face and tell him how it all made her feel. She wanted to burst or crying and scream. But, she did none of that. She pushed it down, just as she learned to.

" Do you love me?", she asked him quietly, her voice shaking slightly, shudders spreading through her body.

Tess prayed desperately that he would reply kindly to her, that he'd say the words that she'd dreamt of hearing. But, instead, she was met with silence, watching her hopes dissipate as quickly as the smoke did.

" Is love what you really want from me, Tess?", he asked her, looking her straight in the eye, " Do you want admiration? Reverence?".

Tess shook her head, denying it.

Tommy leaned in, his breath brushing over her face.

" You are my wife, the mother to my children. It doesn't matter if I love you, nothing will change that. You will be the Queen of Birmingham. Riches will rain down on us, no one will dare touch us. And you, you will be at the very top of it all. So, whether I love you or not will not matter. We've got everything we need", he told her, retracting his face from hers.

Tess' heart fell to her feet. Her hands balled into fists, crumpling the nightgown even further.

" It matters to me", she breathed out unevenly,

" Whether you love me or not matters to me".

As she said those words, Tess shot up from her bed, stalking out to the guest bedroom. She could hear Tommy curse behind her but she didn't stop. She felt so heavy in her heart when she looked at him that she simply couldn't sleep next to him at the moment.

She lay awake all night that night, dreaming and wondering and screaming into her pillow. Tess felt as if someone cursed her, cursed to marry and love somebody who was slowly removing himself from the world. Because the Tommy she's known was slowly disappearing. In his place, arrived somebody whom she's never met.

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