Bête noire → Peaky Blinders [Tommy Shelby] [ BOOK 1 ]

Forty one.

Chapter forty one: Baby fever

Despite the waging war of a hangover within Caroline's head, she found herself standing in the middle of a dress shop with Polly expeditiously rummaging through the racks to find adequate wedding attire, despite wanting to find the best of the best, but she had to suit the bride's taste. Gowns upon gowns, heels upon heels, her head was more sore than ever before after studying the colour Ivory more times than she could count.

"What about this one, love?"

Caroline snapped out of her drunken daze and her lips fell apart with astonishment. It was completely inconspicuous but she loved it all the more for that very reason simply because on her wedding day, she wanted the day to emphasise the union of pure love rather than exquisite dresses that'll only be worn once.  

From the edges of the wrist all the way to the breast, laced fabric cascaded in marvellous designs, leading around to the simplistic ivory dress which stopped long on the ground to be trailed behind by a matching pair of heels with a white laced headband to sit atop her hair, accompanied by a bouquet of flowers in her hand.

"Oh, Pol. It's everything I could've dreamed of."

Polly grinned and with a haul, she set the dress on the counter, followed by the heels and headband. Closer to the time, they'd find the perfect bunch of flowers to compliment the outfit but for now, they watched a young woman come out from the backroom, fear in her eyes and tremble in her frail hands at the sight of two powerful women who were second head of the Peaky Blinders.

"Wow! What a great find! You'll look so beautiful in this on your special day!" She slid her glasses up the bridge of her nose, examining of the price tags. "You know what, they're on the house, so long as you have a blissful wedding."

Caroline smirked over to Polly. "I'd safely say it'll be one hell of a day."

***

"Esme, I can't do this, not on such short notice!"

Esme slammed the supplies onto Caroline's kitchen counter, stern. "For a married woman in modern day society, you should have five children by thirty. Think of this as preparation for what you're about to get yourself into, especially because gypsies are expected to have tribes."

Caroline gulped. "But I'm not a gypsy."

"You're marrying one, ain't ya?" Esme passed her week old baby over to Caroline. "You should learn how to take care of one without the supervision of men, since they're never around to do it themselves, for fuck sake. The last time John changed a bloody nappy must've been about four years ago."

The older woman didn't give Caroline time to retort before she fled the house, whisking off to complete a full day's work without the disruption of family matters. Caroline wasn't used to the presence of infant children. Of course she wanted to have one, but having grown up being pampered by nannies and servants, she wasn't quite sure how to take care of one in the same way Esme did with hers.

She knew the basics, so with a smile, she cooed down to the little boy, rocking him back and forth in her arms, staring down at him with adorn as he gurned, his minuscule fingers clawing on the fabric of her blouse, disturbed that she was not his mother but after a few moments, his whines ceased and he relaxed into the touch of another woman.

He was so precious, she thought whimsically. His bright blue eyes were similar to John's but the roars from within were certainly from Esme. His eagerness to peer around his surroundings caused her to smile and she decided he was the perfect blend of both.