𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐃𝐄 ♚ 𝙩. 𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙗𝙮

ⅵ - 𝘵𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳

In this moments of Charlie's wonderful innocence all but dissipating from the room once more, Verity returned to stand and was faced again with the crushing, unforgiving futility of the adult world.

"Thomas," Verity started, removing her faux fur lined coat from the cloak stand as she slipped it on, the Blinder's eye trained on her every move.

"I won't be making another appointment with you, for the foreseeable future." Verity explained, her hazel eyes staring into his own blue ones with clear assertiveness. "Not until you decide the time is really right, and you truly want to open up."

"Who's to say I don't want to open up now?" He remarked, his voice laced with cocky self assured ness that further irked the psychologist.

"Trust me, I'm in this role for a reason." Verity snapped back, "and you are not with the intention to seek help. Maybe you were in the beginning, but you have become side tracked by something else." She said, turning her back as she strode to the door.

"Side tracked by what exactly?" He asked, his eyes starting at her legs and scanning upwards to where he eventually caught her knowing gaze, snaring him like a rabbit in a trap. She gave him a distasteful look.

"I think we both know what i am insinuating." She pressed, pullling the door open and stepping out into the crisp morning, her steps followed as far as the front steps.

Tommy watched her figure as she made her way to the car, even with her dark hair blown about everywhere - she looked glamorous.

"Maybe I'm not the best patient," he suddenly called over the sound of the wind blistering through their ears, "but don't forget my other offer." He stated, voice controlled and almost cold, as usual.

Verity shook her head with an amused smile, climbing into the driver's seat of her car as she started the vehicle up.

"Those dreams are long forgotten, Tommy." She called, taking one last look at him, a small, mute sigh lifting from her tight chest. She wished he was different, and more obliging. She couldn't force him to open up but it was clear he was a very mentally damaged person - he couldn't open up though, as all he wanted to do was act awkward and play games.

"Please give me a call once you're feeling more up to exploring your mental wellbeing." She said one final time, letting it sink it that this was to be it for now. He was not allowed to lead her in circles for selfish and carnal reasons.

Tommy said nothing, watching as her modest little car disappeared down the impressive and lengthily gravel drive.

As she disappeared into the November morning fog, all Tommy could think about was those beautiful hazel eyes framed by dark lashes - her crimson lips crooning the most perfect song.

Her beautiful figure encased in a gorgeous dress, the most stunning sight to see - his imagination played clearly before him like a picture.

Yes he could very much see it all - but it all culminated into one thing. Verity performing in his brother's club - a gem of the stage.

-

Some weeks later

As winter crept steadily into it's deepest depth, Thomas Shelby often found his form cradled in the armchair by the office hearth, nursing a glass of whisky and constantly trying to subdue the childish want that had been eating at him for weeks.

He thought a lot about Verity - but not for the treatment reasons and more surprisingly, not even for his earlier lustful feelings (despite the fact they would always creep there like a long shadow at high noon).

He could not stop thinking about her song, albeit a small snippet - but her voice was so filled with emotion and beauty, her dulcet tones caressed every syllable and Tommy just knew how much he wanted her singing in his and Arthur's club.

So, in the 2nd week of December he decided that no longer, should he fight this pressing need and seek to drive her into the role - by limiting her options.

Tommy Shelby found himself retracing old footsteps as he wandered back into London. It had been messy, the last time he had been in this particular area but - he'd arranged to meet an old friend who he knew would have the solutions he needed.

"What is it y' want then?" The broad tones of Alfie Solomons echoed as the met on the quiet corner of the Regent Canal in the rough and ready Camden Town. He took a good look over Tommy, who as usual, represented little emotion on his face.

"I wanted to ask a favour."

"Fuckin' hell, I never woulda' guessed." Alfie harked back, his thick Londoner accent booming with cockiness. The Jewish man cocked his head a little, face shadowed by his hat. "Didn't think y'd want to be hangin' about near me after that bad business at that political rally." Alfie scoffed, "I had a bit a' bother with that fuckin' mongrel brother of yours. Seems to think I was behind it." There was evident distaste in Alfie's voice, distaste that was also seeking apology.

Tommy was very much aware Finn's foolish slip of the tongue was to blame for the whole undoing of that plan, and he needed Alfie's help right now, so Tommy decided it would be best to clear the air.

"I'll speak to Arthur." He started, "I know it wasn't you Alfie, I'm dealing with the problem." He said, looking out over the canal, it's waters carrying various long boats carrying all description of goods.

"So... can you do me a favour?" He pressed, glancing to the side as Alfie Solomon's shrugged, his cane grounded into the gritty dirt beneath their feet.

"Depends. What's in it for me?" He said, his undercover way of indicating interest.

"Don't worry Alfie, you'll be fairly compensated." Tommy remarked crassly, sparking up a cigarette as he tucked the small silver case back into his coat pocket.

"I know you know influential men in this area."

"So do you, you were the one actin' up as a fuckin' politician." Alfie snapped back.

Tommy chose to ignore him. "I need someone's business erasing."

"Well that don't sound fuckin' dodgy." The Jewish man retorted, earning a slight scoff from the Blinder.

"Since when did you start being so clean cut, Alfie?" Tommy quipped, retrieving Dr Verity Grant's card from his pocket and handing it to Solomons. "All I want is a word of mouth job. Make sure people don't want to visit her."

Alfie examined the card, pursing his lip as he looked from the square card and up to Tommy.

"A bloody psychologist!? I always knew you were off y' head but not this bad." Alfie piped up, "what could y' possibly get from putting a psychologist out of work?" He added further, a look of curiosity in his eyes.

"She's a friend of Ada's." Tommy lies, not wanting Alfie to think he was seeing a psychologist. "I've heard this woman sing, she's incredible. I offered her a place in the club and she said no. The only way I can get her to rethink is if we close off all of her clients." Tommy explained, turning to Alfie once again to gain confirmation as to whether his accomplice would undertake the task.

"Fucks sake..." Alfie muttered under his breath and then stuffed her card into his pocket. "Fine, alright. Leave it with me." His cockney tones rung, as the formidable looking man checked the coast was clear before he disappeared into the alley he'd first come through, his figure striding off into the mass of crowds that made up the bustling city of London.

Lingering a few moments longer, Tommy Shelby mulled over the commitment he just made. For a moment he felt a fleeting pang of guilt - but this was quickly replaced once again by his own selfish desires.

He was determined to get what he wanted. And nothing would get in the way of that.