All The Kings Men {Peaky Blinders} (Completed)

One

Lily Cotswold now went by the name of Lily Grey, and when she needed to, Lily Shelby. Her adoptive mother laid asleep, in the room next to hers. Lily raised the charcoal, and began her latest drawing. The sleeping boy, Isaiah, was a member of the notorious gang, the Peaky Blinders. He knew, of course, that she was Thomas Shelby's little cousin, and as such she was a girl that no man should ever dare to fuck with. Isaiah snored gently, as Lily traced his features into the sketchpad by the weak light of the full moon. Tonight was not a night for peaceful sleep. She had already been rocking back and forth for the better part of an hour, a shaking hand grasping at a water glass and cigarettes. The soft breeze flittered through the window, making the papers in her sketchbook flitter.

The day itself had also been a quiet one, a simple day in the office, helping count the money of the bettings. Her family ran a betting shop, where men and women from all over Birmingham could come in and place bets on horse races across the country. Lily had been working on and off in the office since the beginning of the war. She worked days sometimes, and sometimes, when she had too, she joined in on their night time runs. The evening, that was a different matter. They were fuelled by the fear they create.

The Garrison, as always, was busy. And Isiah had cornered Lily with his lopsided grin and two pints of larger. This was not the first time the two had gotten friendly. The two had been known to prefer each other's company over the last year or so. They drank slowly, enjoying the bitter taste of each other's love affairs as they forgot it all to the tune of old Irish music and returned to Lily's home.

Lily traced the fine features of his cut eyebrow, before moving to his eyelids. Her style, unique from the realism that dominated the current art scene in England, held its own beauty. The soft lines, conjoined to the half patterns of a face, slippery like a river. She sighed at a slight smudge and tried to find a way to incorporate it into her art. Since she had turned eighteen, she had started charging the people who commissioned her for her art. It was a strong business plan, as many people wanted their portraits in their homes.

At first, it was hard for people to take her seriously under the name of Grey, but then she started pulling out the Shelby name, and they all offered more than needed. She never took the extra, but she knew how to play the game. Lily Grey knew how to make her own money, her own legal money, outside of being apart of the Shelby family. It was something she was good at, and it was something she enjoyed.

The moon slowly faded across the sky, and the sun arched through the skies colours as she dropped her charcoal off the bed by accident. She leaned down, and picked it up, her stained fingers marking the already dark floorboards. Her drawing was complete.

She sat up as the floor creaked in the main room, the door opened. Footsteps followed. Lily swore under her breath and shoved her book under the bed before tiptoeing from her room, leaving Isiah asleep. She pulled open her door, and entered the living room.

Michael Grey, Polly Grey's real son sat at the main table, a cigarette hanging between his fingers. He looked up at her, emotionless in his sleep. They always gave away how he was feeling, it wasn't obvious, but sometimes they was dominating even in a crowded room. Lily slipped into a chair opposite him. "Where have you been?" She asked him quietly, neither wanting to wake Polly.

Michael sighed before taking a drag. He put out the cigarette in the glass bowl ashtray before re-adjusting himself. He didn't reply. He was about to answer when Lily's bedroom door creaked. Isaiah poked his head out, still half asleep. He saw Lily sat there, unable to spot Michael in the still dark dining room. Michael took a deep breath, watching the boy from the vanity mirror on the wall.

"Go back to sleep, Isaiah, I'll be there in a minute." He nodded, before slipping back into the room. Lily's gaze was still on the door, she didn't want to look at Michael. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"You're sleeping with Isaiah?" He scoffed. It had been six months since he had shown up. Six months since Polly had re-arranged the house so he could live with her. Each day passing made Lily feel less wanted by her, by her family.

"I didn't know you were seeing him." Michael's voice was soft. It was not often the two actually spoke.

"He's nice." Lily sighed. "Nicer than the other boys. Besides, it's my life, not yours."

"He's a Blinder." Michael said, he wasn't sure what he was getting at.

"So? I am too." For a lot longer than you have baby-face. Lily was on the defence. With nobody else did she had to remind them of her status. Yet Michael? He never seemed to understand. "I'm going back to bed. I have to be in London tomorrow."

"Does Tommy know?" He stubbed out the cigarette in the glass ashtray, the last red embers catching in the moonlight, illuminating the bone on the back of his hand.

"About London?" Lily had gotten up, she looked down at the boy. "No." Lily walked without noise to her room, she stopped at the door, not looking back at him. "And he doesn't need to.