Arabella || Peaky Blinders [Michael Gray]

twenty two

Chapter Twenty Two
"We'll fucking hang!"

Arabella stood silently in Tommy's office, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as the rest of the family gathered together in the room. Tommy remained sat behind his desk, his hands resting in front of him, alongside the numerous piles of money he had lay out across the table. Arabella was certainly curious as to where this was all going.

"Before I begin," Tommy spoke up, eyes slowly drifting over the room. "I want you to let you know I made a mistake. I made a mistake, and I want to apologise to all of you. Arthur, you warned me against getting involved in Russian business, and you were right. I doubted your wife. For that, I'm sorry." Tommy placed down a large wad of cash on the table, looking in the direction of his older brother. "Linda, I've added 3,000 here in the hope you will forgive me."

Linda slowly rose from the chair, placing a hand over her heavily pregnant stomach as she approached the desk, snatching the money without a word before returning back to her seat. "Apology accepted."

"Esme, I doubted you, as well," Tommy continued, casting a glance over to her, being met with a narrowed stare from the woman.

"Now, John's got innocent lives on his conscience," Esme snapped back, cradling her newborn baby in her arms. "Ordinary working men."

"Yeah, all right, Esme," John interjected, shutting his wife down quickly. Arabella glanced over at him as he lowered his head, her stomach tightening at the sight of the readable guilt etching across his face. "Got it."

"No, she's right," Tommy spoke up. "And you and Arthur are going to have to share that burden. But, I hope the house that you could buy with this can become a place of contemplation. Perhaps redemption." Arabella rolled her eyes at his words, resting her hand on the back of Esme's chair. The woman turned her head, sparing a glance up at Arabella, the two of them sharing an exasperated look. Tommy was clearly talking out of his arse.

Another bundle of cash was dropped down on the table, and John moved forwards to retrieve it. "Charlie," Tommy continued on, addressing his uncle. "For lost tools, dangerous goods and Curly's wise words. Johnny, for board and lodgings." Tommy pushed individual wars of cash towards both of them. "Lizzie–" he placed the money in front of her, but she shook her head, leaning forwards to toss it back to him without a word, her jaw tightening as she sat back in her seat, arms folding across her body.
"Arabella." Arabella snapped her head up upon the sound of her name. "For risking your life to protect my son."

She shook her head as he placed the money on the desk, not seeing it that way. Rescuing Charles from that monster Hughes was nothing to do with working for Tommy. And being by Michael's side the whole time wasn't for Tommy either, and it certainly wasn't for Father Hughes, it was because she cared about Michael, and she wanted to be someone he could rely on. That was what she risked her life for, and she would have done that whether she worked for Tommy or not. "Tom–"

"Michael," He continued, ignoring Arabella as he pushed two wads of cash to the front of the table. "For the killings. Five for cutting and five for shooting."

"No," Polly snapped firmly as she stood up, intercepting Michael from taking the money. "Tommy, no."

"What?!" He suddenly barked, straightening up as he met his Aunt's firm eyes. "Tell me, eh? This is who I am! And this is all I can give you for what you give me. For your hearts and your souls. Yesterday, I nearly lost my son. You should fucking understand that. For what?" He shook his head furiously. "For what? For this? For this?! And I know that you all want me to say that I'll change, that this fucking business will change. But I've learnt something in the last few days. Those bastards- those bastards are worse than us. Politicians, fucking judges, lords and ladies. They're worse than us, and they will never admit us to their palaces, no matter how legitimate we become, because of who we are. Because of who we fucking are, because of where we're fucking from."