In Bleak Midwinter

Chapter Thirty-Four

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Thank you all so much for the support lately. It's lovely to see people enjoying the story!!

There are strong themes of violence in this chapter so please take caution ⚠️

With that said, please make sure to check out my TikTok page @ bleakmidwinter.wp  - I post visual updates and edits inspired by my chapters. Also, check out my new story "Spoils of War" - it is a sequel to this story :)

Enjoy the chapter!!

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Emily swiftly organised the household, placing Frances in charge of the children before going around and locking every door and window that could invite any trouble. She then made her way towards the office after dismissing the staff to their rooms.

As she entered the office, she was surprised to see a young man sat in the chair opposite Tommy's desk. Emily wasn't startled by the man, in fact, she recognised him to be one of the kitchen staff who would bring her breakfast to the gardens during the warmer months.

His name was Pietro; she often found herself inviting him to converse about his family life outside of work. He was young, probably no older than 21, and found himself providing for his mother and two sisters after the passing of his father. Emily had taken a great liking to Pietro; she admired his courage and desire to keep good spirits, despite his unfortunate circumstances. She understood him to be an incredibly caring and reasonable young man, who held himself to strict family morals and a high ambition to make the world a better place for those he cared for. This was the type of son she hoped, one day, she could raise Charlie to be.

Pietro turned at the sound of Emily's footsteps and gave her an uneasy smile.
"Pietro? What are you doing in here?" Emily asked, her eyes softening as a subconscious act to his presence.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Miss, but I was hoping I could talk to Mr Shelby?" Pietro responded.
Emily looked momentarily confused before continuing to probe information.
"Mr Shelby isn't at home, Pietro. Can I help with anything?"
He shook his head. "Do you know when Mr Shelby will be returning today?"

Emily walked over to the cabinet and poured herself a drink. "No. He comes and goes as he pleases" she lied. She knew he was on his was home, but there was something innately off, and suspicious about Pietro's behaviour. "Why do you need to see Thomas, Pietro?"

"It's nothing important, Miss, I just need to discuss my employment" he spoke. His voice began to tremble slightly.
Emily finished her drink, placing the glass back down. She then began to pour Pietro a drink before she walked over to him. She handed him the glass and stood by the desk.
"Here, have a drink. It seems you need it" she offered.

Pietro took the glass and sipped it cautiously, keeping his eyes on her and the liquid. Emily waited for him to finish before continuing.
"Now, are you ready to tell me what this is really all about? So far, all you have done is convinced me that something is wrong" she stated confidently.
Pietro placed the glass down and looked at the floor sheepishly, putting his hands in his coat pockets.
"No, Miss. It's about my employment-- I have found something elsewhere. Something that pays more" he confessed.
Emily raised her eyebrow empathetically; however, she was still not convinced by his divulgence.
"Oh, I see. I'm not sure how to respond to that, but I will let Thomas know you will sadly be leaving us."

She watched his fearful eyes fill with tears as they sized up her body; the young man stood up abruptly and pulled a gun from his pocket and pointed it directly at her head. Emily immediately recognised the gun he commanded was the same weapon Tommy had instructed her to equip herself with from the desk drawer. She wasn't perturbed by his actions; it was almost as though she had premeditated these events by observing the young man's unusual demeanour.
"Pietro, what are you doing?" Emily spoke with stern composure.
Pietro shook his head in an act of rebellion. It was as though someone had taken complete dominion of his every move, and he was desperately trying to gain back control.
"I have to do this" he cried.
"Pietro, put down the gun" Emily responded, reaching her hand out slowly to comfort him.
"It's vendetta. They ordered me to kill Mr Shelby" he exclaimed, this time shaking the gun irrationally.
"Pietro, listen to me. Mr Shelby isn't here. Put the gun down. We can help you" she gulped, taking a step closer.
"Stay back!" He shrieked. "If I don't carry this business out, they will kill my family too!"
Startled by his shouting, Emily took a deep breath and reaffirmed her composure before speaking.
"Who did Pietro?!"
"Luca Changretta. He gave me orders to kill Mr Shelby. If anyone were to stand in my way, they should be killed to. I'm sorry Miss, but you're in my way" he confessed.
"Put the gun down, it's not too late" Emily insisted, her eyes welling up at the realisation he wasn't going to leave peacefully. One of them was going to leave this house in a body bag.
"Forgive me" he whispered. "I did not want this."

Just as he was about to pull the trigger, Emily plunged towards the man and knocked the gun from his hands. The gun flew across the floor; he turned in a state of panic and grabbed her. It was evident he was trying to push her to the floor, reaching his hands towards her neck. Emily found herself wrestling with the man to survive; she knew he had more physical strength than her, so, she had to think quickly of a way out. Acknowledging the gun was too far away, she attempted to reach for the desk. He continued to fight her, pulling her further down until she extended her arm and hauled the empty glass across his head, repeatedly smashing it into the back of his head as blood splurged all over her body. Her instinct urged her to continue, forcing her hand until there was nothing left to recognise the poor man. Pietro's grip fell limp with every blow, and his lifeless body fell to her feet.

Horrified by what she had just done, she dropped the remainders of the glass and covered her mouth in disgust. Tears fell uncontrollably down her cheek. Her hand could no longer contain her horror as she removed it again and cried out "oh my god."

He was just an innocent boy.

The noise of Tommy's car travelled up the driveway, alerting Emily to his arrival. She scrambled over Pietro's body and ran to the door, launching it open and stumbling down the stone stairs. Tommy climbed out the car and revealed his jarred expression.

She was coated in blood. What was once a beautiful white dress was now stained with an unfathomable trauma that would haunt her. His blood served as a reminder that the innocent will always fall victim to the evil that followed the Peaky Blinders.

Tommy caught his wife as she fell into his arms. He didn't attempt to console her outside, he just led her to back into the house and secured the door. Moving into the drawing room, he sat her down and loaded a gun from his hidden collection behind the wooden panel.
"Where are the children, Emily?!" He demanded, checking for any unwanted visitors. He entered the office and saw Pietro's body on the floor. He then rushed back into the drawing room and to her side.
"The children?!" He demanded again.
"Frances has them—" she said, her voice cracking with grief. "In the nursery."
Tommy didn't spare a moment to think, he just acted on impulse. He ran upstairs to the nursery and found Frances with both Charlie and Ruby. He sighed with relief before rushing back down to the drawing room and to Emily's side.

He allowed her to pull him to the floor to which he then wrapped his arms around his as she sobbed. His eyes were widened, trying to draw conclusions to what had occurred.
"Are you hurt?!" He examined.
She shook her head.
"Let's get you cleaned up, and then we can discuss what has happened" he suggested.

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Later...

All Emily heard from the hallway was Tommy trailing a list of orders to Johnny-Dogs about where to bury the body. She scraped the side of her fingernails as a means to ease her anxiety, however, nothing could resolve the enormous, soul destroying, notion of guilt which weighed down every bone in her body. When Tommy finally returned, he sat next to her for a moment in silence. Emily gazed into the fireplace vacantly, hoping it would provide any comfort to her situation.

"I'm sorry you had to do that, Em" he professed, rubbing his hand across her back.

"He was just a boy..." she whimpered quietly.

Tommy clicked his tongue and stared into the fireplace with her. "A boy that would have hurt you and the children, had you not done what needed to be done"
Emily turned and looked at her husband. "I wouldn't have had to have done anything had you and John not started a war with the Changretta's. That boy would have still been alive. His mother and sisters would still have food on their table" she retorted.
"His family will be provided for" Tommy asserted with no emotion.
"How many people have to die before you can be satisfied?" Emily abruptly stated.

He turned to face her, taking her hands and attempting to console her.
"Stop with this nonsense!" He pleaded. "I know you're in shock but we have to carry on. This vendetta is real because that is the nature of our wicked world, and if we do not fight it, we will perish along with it"
Emily burst into tears once again. "Oh god, Tommy! The children! What about the children?!"
He cupped his hands around her face, frequently brushing the stray hairs covering her face and wiping her tears.
"The children will be alright... We will be alright. This will all blow over soon. Let me deal with it with Arthur and John" he confirmed.

Emily closed her eyes and gulped. She longed for the days where there was nothing but simplicity and peace. She had had it once before, and she could never pin the point where she lost it. But, it was evident it was long gone...