Embrace and discover the life of the daughter of tommy shelby, king of Birmingham. Escape realities into the world of thomas shelby and his dysfunctional, yet very loveable family.
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*Part one for x_avant-garde_x, sorry for the long wait my lovelies! I love you !!*
It was a long road after France, a long, dark and scary road. Well, that was for Tommy anyway. But for his daughter? The road was even longer.
You were only a small girl when he left, a daddy's girl at heart but a Blinder in the flesh. There were many days where you'd walk around Small Heath holding your father's hand with his cap on. Way too big for you, mind you, the peak of the cap covering your eyes, but still cute none the less.
You used to believe it was exactly the same as your father's and uncles, but it had no razor in it. You were too young to realise, but imagination was a wonderful thing, and Tommy relished in watching you pretend to be him.
There were many memories like that. You didn't remember a lot of them, but the year before France you could remember almost everything. You specifically remembered when he told you he was going away.
'Only for a while, my sweet girl. Daddy has to go and fight with other men, but I'll be back for Christmas, yeah? I'll be back before your 10th birthday'.
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He took this photo with him, always holding it close with him every step he took. He used to hold it when he slept, and when he escaped death he'd take it out of his pocket and hold it close. He'd kiss it every morning and night, and numerous times throughout the day, wishing you a good day at school and for you to be good, just like he did when he dropped you at school.
9th October you turned ten, and he wasn't home.
9th October you turned eleven, again he wasn't home.
You turned twelve, and then thirteen, and then again, 9th October 1918, your fourteenth birthday, he was nowhere to be seen.
Four birthday's and Christmas' he'd missed. He missed watching you go to big school, he missed watching you grow into the sassy teenager you were, he missed watching you make new friends and tell you off when you missed curfew. So many minor things that people would take for granted, Tommy missed. He would note them down when he was in France. Each year on your birthday you'd receive a letter that your father had poured his heart out into, and each year, on the same date, you'd cry all day.
You didn't know your mother, she'd just upped and left when you were born and had no explanation as to why. Your father didn't know why either, so it was a dead end. Your father raised you singlehandedly, and though things were tough, he did an amazing job, if you did say so yourself.
But once he got home, everything changed. He was different, as expected, but he wasn't as kind, or giving, or caring. You never doubted that your dad would give you his last dying breath, but he didn't see you nor spend time with you.
There was only a certain amount of time that you could take it, but after four years of him being home, enough was enough.
You were seventeen now and your dad had married Grace, his sweetheart after the war. She was a loving woman, despite her past, and she was the closest thing to a mother you'd ever had. She was so kind and giving. You were glad your dad had found a woman like that, Lord knows he could have found someone a lot worse.
