Marguerite - A Thomas Shelby story

Chapter 22 - Betrayal and Family

"Father?" 

Marguerite's heels echoed on the wooden floor of the office, as she scanned the place, searching for Matthew Collins, her Father, and the man she was going to betray. Why? For some people she'd only just met, to prove that her intentions were good.

Thomas Shelby's words echoed in her head:

"You'll go now to his office, you'll speak with him, and if he mentions anything about us, you will admit to having had contact with us. If he then decides to use you as a tool to get to us, you will agree. We need to have you in his good books. If you can, find us that letter he wrote to Inspector Campbell. If you can't, just leave it. I'll send John to fetch you near you Father's office in an hour, so don't waste time or play coy. Then, and only then, will we trust you."

She didn't have a choice. 

"Marguerite." 

Her Father appeared, solemn, from behind a bookcase. 

"What brings you here?" he hummed, flipping through the pages of a book, gaze averted from her eyes. 

He was being distant and nonchalant, which wasn't good. She needed to arise his curiosity, so that he would start asking questions and smoothly move them onto the topic of conversation of the Peaky Blinders.

She tried to feel bad, searching deep within her heart, to find the scraps of love she could have left for her Father, but after meeting her Mother and family, she just couldn't. This was the right thing to do, for herself. She didn't know why, but she just felt it. She also knew that she had to talk to Frank, but that could wait till some other time. 

"I just wanted to stop by and talk a bit, perhaps catch up a little. I hope you don't mind, Father."

He looked up from his book as smiled. 

"Not at all. What have you been up to recently, apart from studying?"

This was her chance, to trigger a response from him. 

"Just meeting people, friendly folk around the city..." her voice trailed off, and she glanced expectantly at her Father.

His head shot up.

"What kind of folk? Where?"

"I'm not so sure who they were," crooned Marguerite, "but some man named Thomas-"

"Shelby?" 

Matthew Collins' voice quivered, louder than before, his eyes wary.

Marguerite nodded.

He pressed his weight against the oak table beside them, clasping his hands tightly together as he stared off into the sky, out of the murky window. 

"I was right..." he whispered, more to himself than to his daughter. "The Peaky Blinders. You went to see them?"

"Oh I.. well one of them mentioned having known Mother.."

Her Father's jaw clenched at that word, 'Mother', the woman he'd mistreated and shamed for her upbringing, for not being like the other women, for growing up around scum. He hated her.

"What did they want?" he retorted, standing before his daughter. She saw the red in his eyes, the devil he could be, and that she feared. Suddenly, she saw him for who he truly was, and all those years of back and forth, love and hate she had felt from his part. He did not resent her, but he resented part of her. The part of her that was her Mother. 

"Me. To bring me back. To my sister." 

She blew it, she said too much, but she didn't care. It had been burning up inside of her on her way to his office, she wanted him to know that she knew the truth, at least about her sister. He'd kept her away from her, and so had Aunt Emmeline.