Chapter Seven ~ The Races

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Tommy sighed, but didn't say anything.

"I'll deal with it," Polly assured. "Thomas. I'll deal with it."

"Where are they?" He finally said.

Polly looked at Lottie unsure. "Freddie's comrades have safe houses," Lottie said. "They could be in any of them."

"But you know," he insisted.

"Why do you want to know?" Questioned Polly.

"I want to send them flowers. Why do you think?" He snapped.

Lottie stood from her chair. "Why is it so bad if they stayed?" She demanded.

"I promised I'd run Freddie out of town," he explained.

"Promised who?" Asked Polly.

When he didn't reply, she shut the doors that led to the betting shop so no one would hear. "I told the coppers Freddie wouldn't come back," he replied in a hushed voice. "It was part of the deal."

"What bloody deal? What happened to family votes? What happened to meetings?" She paused. "If you let me deal with Ada and Freddie, it'll end in peace. Christ knows you have had your fill of war."

"You get Freddie out of town, Poll," said Tommy darkly. "Or else I'll deal with him myself."

As soon as Lottie returned home that evening, she knew that Polly had already been there due to Freddie's bad mood. "What is it?" She asked.

He lifted up the money and tickets. "They want me to go to America," he said simply.

"America," she repeated, examining the tickets. "Wish I could go."

"You can. I'm not gonna use them."

Lottie looked up at him, confused. "Why not?"

"I'm not scared of Tommy Shelby. I can handle him," he said stubbornly.

"But this isn't about Tommy. This is about you and Ada and the baby," she argued. "Surely, you'll do it for them?"

Freddie scoffed. "I'm not leaving. No matter what they offer me," he snapped leaving the room.

Lottie stared after him before she grabbed a glass from the bed side table and threw it at the now closed door, shouting in frustration. Her brother frustrated her so much. She wanted to shout and scream at him, but he wouldn't listen. He never listened to her or anyone. There something bad was coming - it was in the air, unspoken, but known.

The next day, she was proven right. She left the apartment early to check if Harry was okay after having to sell it to the Blinders. She knew he loved that pub, but around here, whatever ever the Blinders say, goes. She smiled sympathetically at him as he cleaned a glass. "How are you feeling?" She asked.

"You heard the news, then?"

She nodded.

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