VICES AND VIRTUES | Thomas Shelby

TWELVE

The pair made their way along the hallway and down the stairs, the distant sound of chatter suggesting that the rest of Elijah's family were already eating in the breakfast room. It filled Florence with nerves, knowing that within the hour the course of her life would change more than she had ever anticipated that it could.

Elijah led Florence to the front door, knowing that the doorman would be waiting on the other side. He opened the door just as the driver was opening the passenger door for Imelda who seemed immediately out of her depth.

"Mr Harrington," Geoffrey, the driver, smiled as he led Imelda up to the steps, "How are you this morning?"

"Very good, thank you," Elijah nodded as Imelda beelined for her daughter, "How was the drive?"

"Flossie, what the hell is going on?" Imelda hissed as she wrapped her arms around her daughter, "You didn't come home last night and then this morning I woke up to this gentleman telling me that my presence was required at Harrington House."

"Why don't we talk in the garden?" Florence smiled nervously, glancing at Elijah, who's eyes were already on her, "Are you joining us?"

"Of course," Elijah nodded, leading the two women back into the house, heading for the french doors that opened onto the terrace.

"Elijah," Margaret's voice rang down the hallway from the direction of the breakfast room, stopping the three of them in their tracks as Elijah's mother emerged from the room, pacing down the corridor, "Where have you been?"

"I'm busy right now, we'll talk later," Elijah told her, aware of how important it was for Florence to talk to her mother before they spoke to his parents.

As Margaret got closer she noticed Imelda and Florence, "Elijah, it's a little early for guests don't you think?"

"Florence and I need to talk to Imelda and then we'll talk to you and Father," Elijah told her firmly.

"And you can't just talk to us together?" Margaret questioned, folding her arms across her chest.

"We'll talk to Imelda, then we'll talk to you, just wait for us in the drawing room," Elijah attempted to reason with her, knowing how stubborn his mother could be.

"Elijah," Florence muttered, just longing for the moment to be over, "It's fine, we'll just speak to them all together."

"Are you sure?" Elijah asked, stepping closer to her, "We don't have to if you don't want to."

"It's alright," Florence assured him, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it, "We'll be fine."

"Drawing room?" Margaret smiled.

"Yes," Elijah did his best to be overly polite in an effort to keep his mother sweet, "Could you ask Father and George to join us?"

"Of course," Margaret nodded before heading back to the breakfast room.

"Florence," Imelda whispered as she approached her daughter, "Is everything alright?"

"It will be," Florence sighed, "Come on."

Out of fear for the conversation that was due to happen Florence kept close to Elijah, knowing that if anything went wrong she could retreat to him.