sweet french. peaky blinders

48

Lucille stopped what she was doing, letting the knife and jar clatter harshly against the bench as she sprinted into the next room, eyes wide as she searched it anxiously. Finn hid behind the settee, his hands held over his head and ears as he peaked out from beneath his jacket. In the middle of her room, Adds sat stunned, her mouth wide open and chubby cheeks dropping lowly with it.

"What was that?" She said, her voice nearing to a screech. "Adds? Finn?"

And then she saw the gun in her little girl's hand.

"Oh my Lord."

Lucille raced over, pulling the metal death trap from her hands and placing it carefully back into the kitchen table. Her own hands were shaking in fright, despite the fine appearance of both Adds and Finn.

"What are you doing? I left you for two seconds because you're hungry and you're playing with guns!" She said. "Where did you find this?"

Finn stuck his head out from behind the settee before crawling forward to sit beside the two, his head held down.

"John left it on the table."

"John left it on the table?" Lucille glared at the wall in front of her, though without any hint of surprise. "Of course John left it on the table!"

"I was teaching her how to play coppers and robbers. It's my favourite." Finn said, his voice sad and regretful, making Lucille sigh, her face softening to the way it always was. "I didn't mean for anything to happen, Aunt Lucy."

"I know Finn. Come here."

She beckoned for the young boy to crawl forward and he hugged into her left side, as Adds was already pulled into her right. She rubbed a hand over his arm comfortingly, holding them both close.

"No playing with guns in the house, okay?" She said.

Finn perked you slightly. "But I can outside?"

"No playing with guns at all!" Lucille shook her head in disbelief. "Let's not tell Aunt Pol or Tommy about this, yeah?"

"Okay." He muttered, giving her one last hug as he pulled himself to his feet.

"Come on, let's get you both a sandwich."

Lucille tugged them both to the small kitchen, sitting them down next to each other with a plate in front of them each. She had one for herself, feeling her stomach growl at the thought of food. But there was still an inkling if nerves and anxiety, that made her feel like she'd throw it up as soon as she took a bite.

"Best sandwich I've ever tasted, this is!" Finn exclaimed, laughing along with Adds as she nodded with him.

"What did you do before you had Adds to play with?" Lucille asked, and he shrugged.

"I like to play in Tommy's car or walk to Charlie's yard." He said, before taking another huge bite, his mouth too full.

"On your own?"

"Sometimes."

Lucille frowned. It worried her. It had never seemed that there was much attention paid to the youngest boy, and his answer had confirmed it. She pulled on a comforting smile, shaking her negativity from her look.

"We still going to the garrison to see Aunt Pol?" Finn asked, as food spluttered from his mouth.

"Of course." She said, though she wasn't quite with it. "Yes, of course."

The Garrison was just in sight at the bottom of the road, when Finn turned to Adds with a cheeky smile. Her hand was in her mother's as they walked down the lane quietly.

"Race to the Garrison!"

He didn't give either of them time to think about it, as he sped off down to the pub, dark dust collecting at his heels like a car exhaust. Adds slipped from her mother's hand, waddling after him, though not too confident in her feet.

"Be careful!" Lucille shouted, quickening her pace without running after them.

She entered the Garrison quickly, watching as the two hurried off to throw themselves onto one of the empty booths against the back wall. There was a distinct lack of people that made the pub feel like a complete different building.

Lucille greeted Grace as she stepped into the private room, pulling off her hat and coat and placing it on the back of the tall chair. Polly was sat with a glass and a cigarette, reading the paper, but smirked upwards as she heard her enter.

"You look wrecked." She laughed, placing the news down in front of her and sliding it away.

"Never have children." Lucille sighed as she sat beside her.

"I did have children, once." Polly said, a nostalgic look on her face. "Michael and Anna. They were taken from me when they were little."

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't worry, you couldn't have known." She insisted, brushing it off as she nodded to the children, who she could see through the gap in the door. "What happened?"

"They insist on running everywhere." Lucille said.

"At least they're getting along."

"Have you seen Ada?" She asked.

"No. I'm worried." Polly said.

She had never heard Polly say she was nervous about something. It didn't seem like an emotion that the woman was even able to feel. She had been so strong ever since Lucille had arrived in Birmingham.

"There was another strike at the factory this morning. Guessing it was Freddie Thorne." Polly said with a frown, before smiling as she changed the subject. "Arthur's taking over this pub. Tommy's telling him this evening."

"Tommy." As Polly said his name again, something in her clicked, and she leaned forward with a smirk. "I take it everything's sorted between you two."

"I suppose. He told me he was scared to involve me."

Polly laughed out loud, gesturing with her hands. "He should have thought about that before he- well-"

Lucille looked at her with a wide mouth, her cheeks blushing at the insinuation. She shook her head, ignoring the comment.

"But he still doesn't tell me much, about what you do as a family." She said, placing her hand in the woman's arm. "Please, Pol. I need to know. You won't scare me away."

"I don't know much of it either." She tried, but Lucille shook her head.

"But you know enough."

Polly sighed. "He's fixing races, trying to become legitimate."

"But what about the policeman that everyone talks about?"

"Tommy walked into something that he should have run straight away from. But he didn't. At the docks, his cousins stole from the wrong shipment. The crate was filled with guns and ammunition." Polly said, finally committed to telling the truth. "The coppers are trying to find it."

It hadn't been anywhere near what she was expecting. She couldn't imagine Tommy with so much resting on his shoulders. Yet at the same time she could. He had always been quiet, keeping things to himself until he couldn't.

But guns and ammunition? The war had affected him in more than just his head.

"Oh my God."

"I would have said that too if he hadn't told me in church. He's mad." Polly laughed bitterly. "Don't worry though, he'll sort things out. Always does."

"Of course."

Sorry for the self promo,
but check out Far From Home,
if you want to see a book
about Polly's daughter xx