Tommy Shelby finally recognises the extent of his mental damage. An Illness that is eating away at his conscious being, devouring every last morsel of sanity in his head.
An illness that finally forces him to seek counsel from a professional.
To fi...
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The afternoon grey streets had a certain luster to them, gleaming like marble worktops after a day of non stop rain that had only just ceased.
Hastily passing some cash into the cab driver's hand, Verity climbed out onto the fairly occupied street curb that stood directly opposite the Eden Club.
It looked like just another building fascia in the day time, especially on such a down trodden grey day as this. Verity could only imagine how it glimmered like a diamond in a cavern at night time.
Taking one last deep breath, she darted across the cobbled road - avoiding the path of any vehicles as she made her prompt steps look effortless in her striking black heels.
Standing under the slight canopy that the club's sign offered, Verity waited and watched as the crowds trundled by. She hadn't seen Tommy and it was nearing 3pm.
The psychologist found herself already having a mental battle and she hadn't even stepped foot in the club yet. She wondered whether she was doing the right thing ... clubs could be sordid places, and no doubt this would be one of the worst, considering it was run by the Shelby's!
"Verity." Tommy's voice plucked her from her fraught mind, and the psychologist pushed a smile as she greeted him politely.
"I'm surprised you came." He then followed up, hand pushing on the Art Deco style gold bar of one of the two main doors into the foyer.
"You didn't think I would?"
"It seemed to good to be true." Tommy replied, easing the door open as he held it back - allowing Verity to pass through.
Instantly, there was a lot to take in once inside the gilded walls of the extravagant club that screamed wealth on its deep reds and rich gold interior - but that all acted as a velvet curtain for the debauchery that settled there in the night time - the great foul beast that brought lust, greed and guilt into the undoing of so many naive people.
Beyond the visual side - Verity could hear the sounds of a live band, a little rough around the edges albeit - but she guessed they must have been practicing. In between a few random strings of music she could make out a voice, singing out.
Verity halted halfway down the foyer, waiting for Tommy to catch up to her as she lingered by a lush looking rockery of sorts.
"Through here." Tommy directed, reaching another set of double doors. As they opened, the band music became louder - the vivacity of the swinging jazz sound hitting her ear drums mercilessly.
Like an unsure child, she followed Tommy in her neat crimson puff sleeved dress and heels - entering the room and her hazel eyes instantly latching onto the space in front of her. A large dance floor was all but abandoned, multiple white clothed tables and fancy chairs adorned the outside of the space.
All but one table remained bare - for at the very front of the room right under the nose of the stage - sat a man alone - his gaze directly fixated on the person on stage rehearsing at that moment.
