"Course I got the money," He scoffed. "Me, Arthur and John will take a trip down there and sort it all out," Putting his cigarette out he looked at the name it was signed by: Mr Giorgio Marchetti. "The Marchetti's Pol are some of the most successful jewellers in the world," Suddenely his voice was loud at enthusiastic. "They work with the South Africans to produce both beautiful and fuckin' expensive jewelery. They make jewels for royalty Pol. Royalty," He beamed a smile, but she just rolled her eyes to the back of her head and frowned.
"Do think I'm a fool Tom? I've 'eard what they do to those who don't pay up. They've cutters of their own," Her scowl stayed plastered on her face as she looked up at the ceiling. "Don't fuck about with 'em for gods sake." And with that she placed her glass on the table and put her cig out, before making her way across the creaky floor boards and out of the room. Back in his own thoughts Thomas realised that he'd lost himself. Of course he wasn't scared of some fuckin' Italians, he's a blinder.
Only a few hours later Polly had arranged a family meeting back at the house in small heath, to explain exactly what was happening. Everyone had to delay the errands they were running across town, except Tommy who's only task was to drink himself stupid.
The evening sun was shining through the heavy smog and the houses tattered curtains. Arthur, John, Finn and Ada sat at the table, waiting for the arrival of Tommy and aunt Pol. Soon enough two sets of feet began walking through the house, no talking just loud steps throughout the hallway. Smoke filled the room, as nearly everyone had a cig in between their fingers.
"Right lets get this over with then,'' Tommy didn't hesitate to begin the meeting, as he entered the small room walking around to the steps so everyone could see him. "Arthur, John we will be taking a trip down to London for a few days to meet with some business acquaintances, whilst: Finn, Ada and Pol I'm leaving you in charge." Both the boys sat across from each other and looked at each other puzzled, and taking another drag on their cigarette.
"Are we meeting with the Russians Tom?" John asked.
"No we have a meeting with some Italians," Tommy said confidently knowing how everyone would react. Ada put her head in her hands and began mumbling. "What is it Ada?" His stern face showed that he was most certainly not in the mood.
"I was saying I thought our business with the Italians had been dealt with."
Tommy reached into his jacket and pulled out his cigarettes and lighter, then placed one between his lips. "These aren't the same Italians Ada they have no connections to Sabini and his men. In fact I hear they are from a completely different place," He stated smiling. Turning her head she began to look more interested.
"Exactly where are they coming from then?" Resting her chin on her hand.
"Sardinia of which I hear is a beautiful place." A sarcastic look played on his face as he flung his arms in the air. She just smiled and stood up making her way out of the room into the betting area. More chairs began to scrape the floors as the others followed her into their offices.
"When will we be heading down there then?" Arthur got up and leaned against the wall. Turning on his heel Tommy began to walk out with stride in his step.
"We will begin the drive tomorrow check on our clubs, then 'ave the meeting the day after. You see they're very specific these people."
"Who exactly are they?" John looked confused as he stood up, drink still in his hand. No reply came from him as he entered the betting shop opening both of the large wooden doors, and suddenly the loud hustle hit him. Everyone scrambling about placing there money on tables, collecting pieces of paper and greeting Mr Shelby as they did.
The office doors with his name on stood at the end of the room, near to where all the other rooms were. He found himself walking across the overly priced carpet towards his, yet again, overly large stash of whiskey. Pouring himself a glass he sat down at his desk, and contemplated what exactly he was going to spend the rest of his day doing. Looking around his desk he spotted a few papers that should be read through and signed. But it only took him ten seconds to ignore what they said, and so instead he decide to get pissed and sleep on it.
All of the liquor travelled down his throat, burning as it did and mixing with the tobacco made his head spin. White powder was spilled across the paper: along with a razor blade he'd been cutting it with. This way with copious amounts of drugs, he knew everything would just fade away, even if it was just for one night. He felt bad for leaving Charlie but he couldn't help it, this was his way of grieving and when he grieved he did stupid shit. Shit that would leave him even more broken than he already was.
"Oi!" Arthur shouted as he poured some ice cold water over Tommys head. "Wake up Tom it's nearly nine for fucks sake!" He shot up from his chair, falling back down as the intense head ache hit him. Arthur began gathering up all of Tommys gear, whilst he still stirred in his chair groaning. "Get ya shit together we've got a drive to make!" He threw the empty bottles in the bin and started to pick Tom up.
"I can do it myself Arthur!" He pulled his body away from his brother, and began to regain his balance by leaning up against a pillar. However he held his head in agony, but just blocked the pain out and took the hit he deserved.
"Well don't expect to be driving you'd fuckin' kill us all brother!" He said as he rushed out of the office eager to get the car started up. Tommy stood there and lit a cig, before he followed his brother out the door and into the Shelby Company Limited car preparing for the smoke, drugs and mad house of London.