𝗗𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗙𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗶𝘀 - 𝗧𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗮𝘀 𝗦𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗯𝘆 𝘅 𝗢/𝗖

𝟸𝟹. 𝙻𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚗?

"You don't look it" he replied with his voice low and eyes even lower.

The unknown man came over to her to reposition her. He moved her legs so that sat facing towards the camera, her hands neatly crossed in her lap and head tilted ever so slightly to the left.

"Why do you need these photos Thomas?" She repeated her question from earlier.

"I need photos for the office, people need to believe you're my wife" he said nonchalantly.

Francis took a choked inhale of breath "I-what?" She stuttered. "What do you mean people need to believe I'm your wife?! I am not your wife!" She rose from her seat angrily and hastily removed the pair of gloves sat on her hands.

"Would you mind explaining what you mean? I am not going to fake a marriage, Thomas." She pointed a finger at him accusingly.

He flopped his head back in defeat before rising from his own sitting position "that's not what I'm saying. We will get married- small nothing big- but we won't be in love so we have to make it believable" he said as he stumped his cigarette out in his glass ashtray.

She stood confused for a moment before speaking again. "Who says we aren't in love, Tom?" Her voice was quiet and mousy. Her eyes had saddened, that cocky smile dropped and her hands fell to her sides.

"You know I don't do love, Francis, it's not how my life can go. I fall in love and you'll get hurt..." he shook his head shamefully.

"No. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for believing your selfish fucked up self could even change for one single moment to support and love the mother of your child! You ignorant blind fool..."

Without another word Thomas walked over to the photographer handed him some money and shooed him off. "I hope those bloody photos come out good, or I've just paid the fucker more than he's bloody worth." Thomas brought his eyes to meet with Fran's and completely ignored her rant "we have to go to a family meeting."

"In a bloody gown?!" She yelled angrily.

"They won't judge. You've seen what Esme wears around the streets," he began pulling out another cigarette only for it to be snatched away by Francis.

"You put that shit out right now and look at me! If I get made fun of this is all on you." She seethed.

~

Walking into the betting shop would never usually be embarrassing for Francis, but now as she walked through dressed like a queen she suddenly noticed the eyes of everyone on her.

Trained on her... like hawks.

"I told you I should have changed..." Francis spat in the direction of Thomas.

He sighed heavily and lit a cigarette "and I told you that you looked fine, I didn't lie."

The pair made it quickly into the meeting room where it had seemed everyone was already in a heated discussion.

"I'm told only family are allowed to speak" Esme said shooting Thomas a quick glare.

"Everyone's allowed to speak" Thomas announced.