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"Georgia,

My Gee. I miss you.

I feel different. It's setting in for me that I might not fucking get out of here.

Tunneling is no fun and it's cold and men have died and it's just—I wish I could see you at the end of the day. If you were here, and I could see you all the time—like at home, it would be worth it. But I don't have you here. But I'm doing it for you. For your safety.

Don't worry about me, though. Send another picture, please. I need to see you more.

Love you endlessly,

Tommy."

My tears flow as I read Tommy's short postcard. He's hurting and I can't fucking do anything about it. I miss him so much.

"Gee?" Dorothy peeks her head into the private room and instantly rushes over to me, hugging me tightly. "What'd he say, darling?" She asks and I sob more into her shoulder, holding the postcard up and she takes a moment, reading it. "Oh dear." She says, stroking my hair. "You should head home for the night. Get some rest. You need to get a new picture taken. Maybe you should also talk to Pol. Do you want me to go get her?" She asks and I nod, pulling away from her shoulder, still crying but now a bit more calm as she goes to get Polly.

"Come here, dear." Polly says and instantly my heavy sobs are back, crying into her chest, and she cries with me, knowing how one sentence hurt me so deeply. How it hurt her as well.

Who knows how long they'll be there? They'll all come back differently. There's no doubting that. I heard that the Small Heath boys saved fucking thousands of Allied lives by killing thousands of Germans. There's no way they're going to be able to be the same after that. And the worst part is, we all know it.

Letters // [thomas shelby / peaky blinders]Where stories live. Discover now