TOO SWEET / thomas shelby

TWO / the only exception

      Now that the men had returned from the trenches, Nell had found herself being pushed to the side. When they had all been away she had been a vital part of keeping the business alive, alongside Polly.

Money was sparse, as it always had been— but now, without the little income she was getting from her work in the betting shop, she had to find other ways to make her keep.

She hadn't finished school, and dropped out despite being reasonably smart, in favour of helping her mother raise her younger sister. (And what Nell's parents had never found out was that she actually wasn't welcome back, after being one too many times with particularly sticky fingers. The school had made her return everything she had stolen, that she hadn't already sold, and then promptly told her to never return.)

It was a shame, really. Nell hadn't hated school.

Girls basically had two options, become a handsy man's assistant, or become a handsy man's prostitute. Nell thought the two weren't very different, by the end of the night, either way, it was likely that you'd be taken advantage of.

If they were lucky, young women would find a job in a factory or in a little shop in need of cheap labour, but with more and more people filling the world, less and less jobs became available.

More often than not, all that was expected of young women was for them to marry someone and have half a dozen babies that they didn't have the money to raise. It was a viscous cycle, and most of the girls Nell and Ada had gone to school with were all mothers and wives, by now.

Nell McNulty had managed to luck out.

Therese Lambert had a little business in dress-making. Her son, Henri had been a childhood friend of Nell's and so, he had managed to pull a few strings. The boy had gone beet red when Nell had thanked him with a loud kiss on his cheek.

The woman had been kind enough to offer Nell a part-time job of being her occasional assistant. All Nell really did was stitch and sew what Therese could no longer manage, as age had made it more difficult to do the more intricate work she was known and sought for.

Nell had picked up the talent like it was breathing.

      Aisling was away at work in the factory, where she had been working for almost as long as she had been in Small Heath, and so Nell found herself alone in the kitchen, stitching on individual beads onto the hem of a white silk sleeve.

Nell found herself wondering what it was like to have the money to pay for individual beads imported from India.

She then sighed, because there was no way in chance she would ever know.

Time seemed to slow when Nell worked. It was often in quiet moments like this that she thought most of her father, who she missed so dearly. She often wound up thinking about her sister, too— but that was always harder. The not knowing was so painful, and somedays Nell found herself not wanting to leave her room.

Her mother did that often. Shut herself away in her bedroom, for days at a time, sometimes. Without Nell, Asiling wouldn't be getting up every morning. And so, Nell couldn't not get out of bed because she had to look after her mum. If she didn't, who would?

Her train of thought was soon interrupted by a firm knock at the door, and she didn't have to see his face to know who it was.

Tommy turned as Nell opened the door, she smiled at him.

"How's that horse of yours?"

"Well, Monoghan Boy will be at the Kempton races on monday. A winner, if I have anything to do with it."