𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ♛ thomas shelby

Ⅲ | ᴀ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴅᴇʙᴛ

     "The blood debt has been paid." She stated gravely, and then let her eyes soften at the two grieving brothers. "Go home."

     With a thankful nod of their heads and another look over at where Tommy stood, the two brothers disappeared, satisfied with the job done. She felt a twinge of guilt creeping at her for deceiving them so. If it were someone of her kin that had been killed, she knew she would have taken the life of the murderer herself. It's for the greater good, she reasoned. If I keep telling that to myself I might even start believing it.

     After making sure the two left, she crossed the flimsy bridge connecting the two sides of the canal to where Tommy Shelby stood, still gazing at the Cut, an unreadable look on his face - as if he was miles away in his head. She joined him on his left, holding out a white embroidered cloth for him to take. He nodded his head in thanks before wiping the remains of blood off of his face.

     "I'll ruin your fancy handkerchief with blood." He remarked, tracing the embroidered initials CC now speckled with angry red blots.

     "Throw it out, keep it. I'll just make a new one." She kicked a pebble into the murky water of the canal. "He's off to London now, aye?"

"Aye."

     "Well, I'd say you owe me a drink, Shelby." The said man turned in her direction, eyebrow raising in question. People were rarely so bold in addressing him, and yet he didn't find himself irked by the woman's forward, temperamental demeanour.

     "Do you ever stop demanding things?" The tone of his voice was supposed to be irritated but even she could see the corner of his lips curling into a smile.

     She let out a huff of laughter as they moved towards the road. "Get used to it, Mr Shelby. I'm insatiable."

     Instead of replying he shook his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets only to fish out a pack of cigarettes, offering for her to take one.

"Thomas."

     It was more than a simple word - or an informal introduction. It was a sign of a deal struck, and somewhere along that line, a friendship. Pleasantly surprised, she gave him a grin, flashing her pearly whites as she swiftly drew one from his pack.

"Caterina."





*:･ﾟ♛･ﾟ:*

     Polly's vigorous polishing of a brass pot was suddenly interrupted by the noise of someone entering the Shelby household. Even before he rounded into the dining room she knew it was Thomas, easily recognising his purposeful strides. She glanced up as he produced a wad of notes and two bags of coins, placing them on the table in front of her. Reaching forward and weighing them in her hand she concluded.

     "A bad week." It was more of a statement, than a question.

     Thomas removed his hat, sitting down opposite of her. He rubbed his eyes wearily, far too drained to talk about it.

     Polly began counting the money and spoke up casually, hiding her anxiety. "There was no moon last night. I looked." Ignoring her musing he lit a cigarette, staring blankly at the opposite wall.

"Did you do the right thing?"

     "Yes I did the right thing." He snapped firmly, rising from his chair and turning away.

     Polly stopped counting, staring at him in suspicion. Since he was a little boy, wreaking havoc of much smaller scale than now, she could read him like a book.