Arabella || Peaky Blinders [Michael Gray]

thirty one

Chapter Thirty One
"I need to tell you..."

"And then what happened?"

"Nothing," Arabella replied with a nonchalant shrug, moving to sit at the end of Michael's hospital bed. "He didn't say a thing to me."

"You're telling me you tried to punch Tommy and he just...let it go?" Michael asked her, an amused smile teasing on his lips. "Just like that?"

Arabella cracked a small smile, the first since John had died. "Just like that."

Michael shook his head in disbelief. "He's gonna fucking lose it with you one day."

Arabella nodded her head in agreement. "Oh, absolutely."

Considering the amount of times Arabella had stormed over to Tommy's office in a fit of rage over the last few years, she was surprised he hadn't lost it with her already. Usually, whenever she confronted someone, they'd shout right back, but Tommy always remained so calm and quiet, never giving anything away. It annoyed Arabella that he seemed to know exactly how to handle her, but, if truth be told, she wouldn't be surprised if he just knocked her out one day – god knows it'd probably be the most efficient way of shutting her up.

"They're shit guards," Michael commented, nodding his head over to the two men slumped in their chairs by the door.

Arabella turned her head, following his line of sight. "And Polly said she wanted soldiers," she responded with an eye roll.

Michael began to smile, recalling his mother shouting something about soldiers before he'd gone completely unconscious. His attention resumed back to Arabella as she shifted to move into more comfortable position, the movement causing her necklace to slip out from her underneath her dress. Michael caught sight of it, his smile faltering as he recognised John's ring. Arabella quickly noticed his gaze, instinctively clutching the necklace in her hands, the familiar heaviness of loss settling in her chest.

"I'm sorry," Michael said.

Arabella's eyes flickered towards her lap. "I'm sorry too." She released a heavy breath, lifting her her gaze, to meet Michael's eyes once more. "When I saw you both go down..." she trailed off, shaking her head. "I'm really glad you're okay, Michael."

"Rather me than you," Michael stated. He placed his hands down beside him, a grimace crossing his expression as he sat himself up.

"Rather you than me too," Arabella responded, offering him a small smile to show that she didn't mean it. "Seriously though, you saved my life when you pushed me out of the way. I just, completely froze, you know? So, thank you...I feel like I haven't thanked you enough."

"Well, I know one way you could thank me," Michael replied, a mischievous look in his eyes. Arabella narrowed her stare at him, whacking his arm lightly. She shook her head at him, though couldn't stop the brief smile flickering across her face. "Look, you know know, uh, about Christmas Eve..."

Arabella swallowed thickly, shaking her head to try and stop him from bringing their moment in the kitchen up. "It's okay. Don't worry about that."

"But I am worrying about that," Michael told her, straining slightly as he tried to move himself into a more comfortable sitting position. Arabella reached out to help him, but he waved her away, a soft groan slipping from his lips as he leaned himself against the head rest. "After what happened, knowing how quickly someone can just be gone..." he trailed, casting his gaze to the side for a moment. Arabella studied his expression, wondering where he was going with what he was trying to say. "Listen, Arabella," he took both of her hands in his, his eyes meeting hers once more. "I need to tell you...I need to tell you that I–"

The door flung open without any warning, interrupting Michael's sentence. "Fucking hell, not now mum," he muttered underneath his breath.

Arabella turned around, quickly moving her hands out of Michael's grip as Polly strolled inside, ordering the guards out of the room. The startled men began to scarper in a hurry as she headed past, stopping at Michael's bedside. "Arabella, love, can you give us a minute."

"Of course," Arabella said, rising from the bed, much to Michael's dismay. "I have to go anyway, Tommy wants me at that meal, so I better get ready." She turned her attention back to Michael, giving him a warm smile. "Hope you get better soon. I'll come by sometime in the next few days."

After saying goodbye to Michael and Polly, Arabella left the hospital, two guards following close behind her, likely on Tommy's orders.

Back home, Mallory and Isaiah both appeared to be waiting for her arrival in the kitchen. She pushed open the door, their heads turning in an instant.

"Shouldn't have gone there on your own, Bells," Isaiah immediately chastised, rising from his seat as she stepped into her room.

"I can take care of myself, Isaiah," Arabella responded simply, shrugging off her coat. "There's guards swarming that place anyway."

"You should have waited for me to go with you," Isaiah responded firmly. "Arabella–"

"When have we got to leave?" She asked, interrupting him.

Isaiah sighed. "An hour," he replied. "There's a dress in your room, Ada brought it round for you. Tommy insists you wear it."

Arabella's eyebrows drew together, wondering what sort of plan Tommy clearly had. "How come I have a dress code?"

Isaiah shrugged, as clueless as her. "No idea. Just get ready or I'm leaving without you. I know how long it takes you to do your bloody hair."

Arabella shared a knowing smile with Mallory. Isaiah knew her very well. "All right, all right," she held her hands up, turning to leave the kitchen. "I'll be down in a bit."

Arabella left them both in the kitchen, heading up the stairs to her old room. It felt strange being back in the house, in fact it was probably the first time she'd been there in years. Mason's room was still the first on the left, but she hadn't set foot inside since he was killed. Being back surfaced a lot of memories, some welcomed, but many unwelcome.

Inside her room, an expensive fitted green dress had been draped across the bed, a black pair of black heels on the floor underneath to go with it. Arabella ran her hand over the material, still wondering why it was so important for her to wear it. She gently picked the dress up, holding it out in front of her. Arabella had to admit, it was very beautiful.

She exhaled heavily, glancing at herself in the mirror. The last thing she wanted to do was sit at a meal right now. "This better be bloody good, Tommy," she mumbled to herself.

A/N

Wonder what Michael was going to say before he was interrupted 👀