The second eldest had told the Shelby Family that the fireplace was being fixed... four days ago, and yet- everyday Sebastian Shelby sat in the kitchen with a cup of tea in his hand waiting to be escorted to whatever strange location the other had chosen. It took four days before Thomas had even realised what he had said. The fireplace was fine, maybe a little dirty but it was Small Heath, the thing that really needed fixing happened to be the doors. Every single door.
Thomas had told himself that it was to make Bash's life easier, but in reality, during the night when he was back in the trenches- he needed an easier way to get out of the house and to breathe fresh air again. The doors were the easiest thing- Thomas would no longer be caught dead climbing down drain pipes, he had no secret lover to see.
Not anymore.
On the fifth day, Polly had dragged Thomas there by the ears and left him with his brother. The duo stood in utter silence for what felt like half an hour, but Thomas was waiting for the calculating thoughts of Sebastian to stop for a moment.
"You're five days late, Thomas. You are one for time keeping, are you not? Forgotten how to tell the time, have you?" His words were sharp, but his face and voice remained void of all feelings.
He was a shadow, like their father- but he was just better at hiding it now. His eyes used to be the telling sign, but after they began to cloud blue, they were empty pits of a bottomless void.
Whenever he smiled, it felt empty, like it was a chore for him to lift his lips upwards, but the family knew that Bash probably did actually want to smile and that it wasn't forced. Just like his older two brothers, Bash didn't force emotional acts. If he wanted to smile, he would. If he wanted to cuss everyone out with a raise of two fingers, he would.
"I had to make sure things were all set up for our arrival, Sebastian. Now, are you coming or not?"
"First, you're going to tell me why both Jimmy and Charlie tried to tell me that I hadn't actually slept a full night — for the last four nights? I know stalling and that wasn't stalling, that was bullshittery and you knew it!"
Bash was never one to blow up in peoples faces but already he hadn't the patience to be calm all of the time anymore. Not when people took advantage of his lack of sight.
He thought his brother, Tommy, would've been different.
But he was just the same as every other prick who thought they knew best, because Tommy Shelby always knows what's best.
Tom, not wanting to engage in the argument anymore than he already had - by breathing a little too loudly for Bash's liking, held out an arm for his brother to take.
The younger of the two took a step forward, clasping his hand onto the others with a tight grip. If he was taking the car, he'd need guiding there- the garage was never a place Bash had liked going. It was too much of a hassle and it didn't offer him much in terms of anything really.
The smell of petrol only brought him back to France, and it was just safer for everyone involved if he just left that room as an unexplored chamber of the unknown, at least it gave it a little bit of mystery.
Even if it only housed a car and a few spare tyres.
"Just stand up, Sebastian." Tommy ordered, and as he did so, Bash slammed down the tea cup he'd been nursing in his hand, onto the table.
Luckily for Bash, it hadn't smashed, he really didn't feel like facing the wrath of Arthur or Polly for breaking one of their mothers old tea cups when there were plenty of old and nasty beer glasses they'd lifted from one of the various pubs they all used to frequent.
So, Thomas gripped onto his younger brothers elbow and began to lead him to the brand new car that was the best in the city, making sure there was no hidden Finn in the back seat as that was his favourite place to hide as of late. After making sure things were in order, the duo made their way south.
Or at least, that was what Bash had thought.
Going south from Small Heath meant that less people knew them, and it was a much easier way to kill a man without it being linked to anyone in the family. It was a tried and tested theory, one that had been implemented a few times since they had all returned from war.
In reality, they were destined to head ten miles east, and then sixteen miles north to a horse farm- for lack of better words, where they had everything a man or woman could have ever dreamed of.
Stallions, Mares, racers, breeders. You name it, they had it.
The journey was quick, painless, they talked very little, Thomas only giving short bursts of information he thought was useful, whenever they were going over or y see bridges, if he was to hold on, or to sit still - no gossiping about their day, no mentions of the weather... though, Bash knew it was overcast, the warmth- or rather, stickiness and lack of light was enough of an indication it was soon to rain.
Pulling into the farm, Bash heard the sound of stones beneath the cars wheels, it was much different from the cobblestones and smoother tarmac they'd been driving on.
Once the owner noticed who had just pulled in, they all seemed to rush out to stand in awe of who'd just arrived at their establishment, one came to Thomas' side with papers and a fancy pen, whilst another came to Bash's side with a cane of sorts to help the man feel the bumps in the path. Thomas didn't seem to notice the stick (it was a stick, but Bash liked to pretend), and had thought that it was all muscle memory- but they both had things on their mind. Each other was not one of them.
Bash knew exactly where they were. Cobalt Equine, it wasn't a farm nor a ranch, they were somewhere in between, but they did seem to grow a good portion of their own food, he remembered that from his last visit.
"We've got..." the man spoke, though Bash managed to blur it out by focusing on what he could smell. Petrol- a lot of petrol, but also the baked bread smell on the person next to him.
So he walked behind them, in silence until bumping into someone's back. He mumbled an apology which he didn't mean, and stood still- waiting to feel the presence of his brother- which was right around the corner.
Thomas stood next to two dark horses, well... though technically only one was an actual horse. Not yet had he decided which one was going to be the next money maker, but what he had known was Sebastian Shelby was the only one who knew just from touching a horse if it was going to be a good omen or not. It had started as a child, a lame horse was the ones he'd stay away or he'd even ask his Uncle Charlie if the horse was going to be okay- but he also tended to gravitate towards the ones with the most potential.
The first horse he had done this with, was a graceful little thing. A horse, with a rather distinctive spotting pattern on its hind legs, the breed wasn't something he cared for- but his ability to jump and run was.
Though, jumping took time, but Bash was a patient man. By the time he had turned fourteen, that horse was doing as it should. Winning money, races, stealing the hearts of many. The horse retired just before the war, and thank God for that- it meant Bash knew Ada would be the only incapable rider on it.
"Sebastian." Thomas called out, pulling Bash out of an unwanted trip down memory lane.
The smell of hay, and the unmistakable stench of horses did something strange to Bash, as though they were forcing him right then and there to make a decision he wasn't sure he could make anymore.
It was as though the right frame of mind was within reaching distance, but every time he tried to grasp it- it slipped further and further away from his finger tips.
"If you brought me here to shoot me, I must tell you that horses die an ugly death, and I'm sure I will too."
Thomas hadn't brought him there to shoot him, but thinking about it for a moment- it would solve Bash's issues and also lessen the overall burden that he thought he brought upon the family, but the silence was really just for the theatrics. Sebastian was always the one to be melodramatic, and jump to every wrong conclusion his brain could make up, so this little piece of torture was a slice of payback. Payback for becoming Thomas's only living weakness.
A weakness that Thomas wasn't even truly aware of himself.
"Don't be fucking daft. I would've done it by the cut, pushed you into a canal boat going to Camden." Thomas chided the man-child, pushing him an inch closer to the horse he could've sworn was the one.
To balance himself, Bash put a hand out to the side, grazing the horse with the tips of his fingers before recoiling. That was enough for Thomas, the horse wasn't the one. Cursed, perhaps.
It was as if he'd just touched the burning stove, his hand was quick to find the middle of his chest, as if he was cradling it back to health.
Bash hadn't a clue why he recoiled, a sturdy horse would've been able to keep him upright but it felt wrong. Not so much cursed, just not what it should feel like. Horses that were right, felt like marble- solid but strangely soft at first touch, but frozen cold. This one? This one felt like soggy hay that hadn't been stored properly.
With a swift gesture of his hand, Thomas signalled the stable boy to bring in the next one and to take away the other. This horse was almost visibly the same, the only difference was the lack of light reflecting from its coat. Bash felt a difference too, the air became easier to breathe and something within him knew that whatever had just been brought in, was the one.
"Monaghan." Bash called out, randomly- without knowing a thing, without being able to see the clipboard that had been placed into Tommy's hand.
Thomas glanced between the horse, his brother and the clipboard. Dumbfounded. Astonished. Amazed.
Monaghan Boy, the horses racing name, was something Bash would never have had prior knowledge of, it was clearly gypsy fate working in their favour.
"We'll take him."
Bash turned to his brother, and his face finally began to paint a thousand words. None of which Thomas bothered to reply to. He knew the journey back would be full of questions he couldn't escape answering, the whys, the how's, the 'how could you be so reckless and foolish', those types.
It wasn't so much as a reckless decision, he'd come all that way to gain a new horse, and he knew it was between Monaghan Boy and two others, but those other two weren't a matter of importance anymore. Not when the horse whisperer of the family had chosen just by a blinded glance.
What Bash did know, for certain, was the story he'd have to think of to tell Charlie Burton, the one boy who'd become infatuated by the magnificent beasts in the fields near the docklands.
He'd made a foolish promise of helping the boy learn to ride before the break of the new year, but now with the new horse in the picture, he wasn't so sure he'd be able to cope.
Bash and too many things on his plate had always lead to disaster. He'd often put all of his eggs into too many baskets and turn up outside the infirmary looking like he'd knocked twice too many times on deaths door, but he'd always managed to bounce back. But that was back when he still had his sight.
He couldn't trust himself to get Charlie on a horse alone, Jimmy was terrified of them and asking a brother for help was just as likely to happen as him regaining sight.
"You really have fucked me over, Tom."
The car hadn't even started before the bickering started. Tom hadn't understood what his brother had meant by that and Bash was in no place to divulge on the matter, either.
But they sure did manage to drag out the argument the entire way, and then some.
Only when Polly gave them a light tap around the back of their heads did they finally drop the topic, even if it was momentarily. They were both certain it'd spark right back up once Bash learnt Toms' intentions with the horse, and Chinatown, and the red powder trick.
At least they'd have a week or so of silence before it all reignited. A few weeks Tom had quickly started to wish would drag out a little longer.