Your Crucible | Peaky Blinders

Chapter Twenty-Four ~ May

          "And you want to apply," she finished, following his train of thought.

          "I do. He's had six clerks in six months," he began. "They leave once they know of the true dealings, and, well, I already know. I'm good with numbers, I can be trusted."

          Lottie smiled admiringly at him; the determination in his grey eyes glinted like steel. "I know you can."

          His lips quirked into a smile. "You think I should apply?"

          "Honestly?" She questioned, breathing out a puff of smoke, leaning back in her chair.

          He nodded.

          She smiled. "I think there'd be no better candidate."

          He sighed in relief. "I'm going to go to his office this afternoon."

          Seeing her cigarette getting near its end, she put it on the tray in the centre of the table. She stared only at the dying embers, avoiding looking at him as she said, "So if you mean to stay, does that mean you won't be going home... at all?"

          Michael shook his head. "I don't ever want to go home. This feels more like home than home ever did."

          She looked up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

          "I never felt like I belonged. I love my Mother, but that village... that cottage... I would rather see it as rubble then ever step foot back there."

          She chuckled dryly. "I know the feeling," she murmured. She found herself opening her mouth to explain herself further, but then she stopped herself. She'd never been so close to telling anyone about that topic in years. Something about him seemed to make her lower her guard - too much. There were things people couldn't know about - things that would make people hate her. She cleared her throat and smiled at him, putting her cigarette to her red lips, wondering what it was that made her want to reveal every inch of her blackened soul to him.

             The clock behind them chimed loudly, catching Lottie out of her reverie.

          Clearing her throat once again, she put out her cigarette on the dish between them. "I've got to go." Lottie stood from the chair swiftly and tightened her coat around her shoulders. She turned and looked back to Michael, a soft smile on her lips. "Good luck with the job."

          His mouth perked upwards and nodded, puffing out a mouthful of smoke.

          With that, she left. Her heels echoed on the cobbled street as she made her way quickly to the betting room, unlocking the door as she let herself in. Esme was already there, tidying papers and books. "When did you get here?" Lottie asked as she hung up her coat on the wall.

          "Half an hour ago," she replied. "Kids were driving rings 'round me head."

          Lottie smiled warmly. "I feel it's been centuries since I've seen them."

          Esme stopped busying herself and turned to the petite woman. "John's four - from his first wife," she added, "they miss you. They keep asking when you'll visit. You haven't spent much time with my son, apart from at the birth."

          "I should fix that," Lottie murmured. She had avoided not only John and Esme but his four children - all of whom she'd become an aunt figure to. She'd done it since Esme and John's son's birth - it reignited all the emotions and feelings she's held in for so long. "How are they all now?" She asked. "Have they grown much?"