Astor // Arthur Shelby x Reader - Peaky Blinders

Chapter 64

Tw: memories of abuse, death, darkness etc.

Pauline

Her face bears no emotion, even as it's drenched with tears.

She holds the screaming baby in her arms and stares hollowly into the distance, not taking in the dingy room around her. The room she shares with four other women, each of them owning only a mattress and a thin blanket. A small pile of clothes. A pile of unwashed nappies in the corner.

Luca promised he would support her. He told her not to bother finding work, not to worry about saving. He found her such a beautiful apartment to live in, and then he fucked off. By the time she realised he wasn't coming back, she didn't have enough left in her bank account for a single month's rent.

It's her fault. She realises this now, as the women around her throw filthy looks, muttering about the state of her, the state of the baby. The baby she cannot bear to even look at.

It's her fault for believing the words he whispered to her on the grounds of Sotheby, in those stolen moments beneath the sunset. For dismissing the first time anger flashed through his gaze. For believing when he said he didn't want to marry Astor, he had no choice, his parents were forcing him. That everything he did was survival, or he'd be killed. That Astor had to comply, or he'd be killed. He didn't want to hurt anyone. That wasn't him.

For believing the lies he told her. So many lies.

And she fell for it. Just like she fell for it with her own father, each time he pummelled her, telling her nobody else could ever love her. By the time she started school, it was already driven into her brain — nobody will ever treat you better than this. You are defective.

Self-loathing fills her lungs. She breathes it, she is consumed by it, too consumed to acknowledge her own child as she screams. Not only did she allow herself to be brainwashed by Luca. She was so desperate for his love, to please him, to finally mean something to somebody, she was willing to let Astor be killed.

It disgusts her.

It's why she cannot look her child in the eyes. What chance would her daughter have, with this for a mother, this for a life? The shared room is the cheapest in the city, but with no work and nobody willing to hire a heavily pregnant woman — or now, a mother to a newborn — it'll be only a matter of weeks before Pauline has nothing left at all.

A gutter baby. That's all she'd be able to give her daughter.

Maybe, she thinks bitterly, if her life had been different, she might be resourceful enough to find a way out of this hole. Maybe, if she wasn't so fucking useless and hopeless and unworthy of love, there might be somebody, anybody, she could turn to in this moment.

But she's hurt too many people. Even Lucille shut the door in her face.

Arthur won't let her see Astor. No matter how much she begs and pleads, trying to show him — or more often, his brothers, whichever Shelby she can track down — that she wants to make things right, wants to do something, anything to help.

And Tommy had explained it to her. Very gently.

The Changretta's are out for blood.

Astor is in danger.

Pauline paces the room, hoping the movement will be enough to quiet the baby, but nothing changes.

Nothing ever fucking changes.

Not for her.

But maybe it could. For her child. For her friend, the one she owes a debt akin to a life debt.

Pauline smiles sadly. Takes a deep, shuddering breath.

There's nothing in this world for her anymore. She knows that, deep in the pit of her mind. Buried beneath years of abuse, trauma, and now the flood of postpartum hormones that remind her, she is nothing. Less than nothing.

She can take no more. She just wants it all to end.

There's no second chance at life for her. But maybe there is for her daughter.

And so she scribbles a quick note.

Mr & Mrs Shelby. It's over. I have told the Changretta's I am the one responsible for everything that happened. Luca's death.

The baby's name is Greta. Please put her into a good orphanage. It's all I ask. - Pauline

It is a relief when the baby is gone. Left on the doorstep.

It is a relief to go to Mrs Changretta, and Mr Changretta, and every other Changretta in the large, Italian family. Broken and bruised by this point — they've been so focused on trying to get back at the Shelby's, another gang in New York has taken their territory. They've fled back to Birmingham in desperation.

It'll be enough. Pauline closes her eyes and smiles as the barrel of the gun is aimed at her. They will believe they've finished the vendetta. They're already weak.

The Shelby's will make quick work of them after this.

The bullet rips through her skull.

The only good thing I've ever done is die.