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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Laughter, two deep male chuckles echoed from behind the closed door. The club, as it often used to in the Eden, looked different in the light of day that poured through the window panes – illuminating the empty booths that were usually occupied by drunken men, hands resting on the legs of their chosen harlots.
Scarlett Ebson sat alone in a booth nearest the door labelled 'PRIVATE' at the Tranquility Base club– where Arthur and Eli Valentine kept having their few-weekly meetings to discuss whatever affairs they fancied. She had been forced to go everywhere with Arthur ever since the club was destroyed, as he pandered over her and whittled about her welfare. The former Eden club singer sat in silence, the daytime staff preparing for the night ahead around her. A heaviness was pushing at her stomach, and she didn't know if it was the baby or the wash of disgusted guilt that swept over her every so often. She feared that her existence, her place hung in the balance – Eli had divulged her darkest secret to Verity, and Scarlett worried sick over the fact that he could do the very same to Arthur. Then what would become of her? She panicked nightly, laid awake, sick with stress at the thought of ending up on the street like she had done all those years ago.
A shaky breath left her lungs then, as the ruminations swirled tauntingly in her head, like a witch chanting curses and dark spells. Her shaky hand traced smoothly over her protruding stomach, and she set about worrying again over how her feelings and emotions could be affecting her unborn child.
Before she could ponder anymore, the door labelled 'PRIVATE' opened – and out stepped her Arthur, suited in his finest brown tweed three-piece suit, a smile upon his face. The pleased look on his expression settled her anxiety... for now.
"Meeting go okay?" she asked with a loving smile, masquerading the mental torment going on inside.
Arthur nodded plainly, leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to Scarlett's cheek.
"Eli wants a word with ya'." Arthur said, and the statement immediately sent chills down her spine – like frost creeping over a winter's landscape. Her heart was already hammering, a hot yet cold sweat and thrumming feeling in her head suddenly taking centre stage.
Scarlett tried to hide it, forcing a wane smile as she drew back to face Arthur.
"Whatever for, babe?" she remarked, and Arthur just kept smiling.
"I've sorted something for ya." Was all he said, not instilling any sense of calm in the mother of his unborn child, "I'll wait outside." He hummed, and continued past, a saunter in his step that her brain tried to translate into some sort of security and safety for Scarlett. Surely this could not be all bad if Arthur seemed so cheery?
Walking into that office felt like marching into the path of death itself. She may as well of been looking at the grim reaper sat at that table in the low lit room, expect in place of a scythe was a tumbler of whisky. Valentine smirked, a cynical look about him. Scarlett's anxiety sat firmly in her stomach, inking it's way across her chest in a tight clenching of her muscles – as if a cold hand was squeezing at her lungs. Her dark eyes noted the sly glint in his own – and she knew he had every idea about what had happened with Verity... and that Scarlett's life was now his to puppeteer.
