|28|
FORGOTTEN TALES
POLLY STORMS OUT the house, trembling. She felt the whole world crashing down on her shoulders as her lips quivered. Her vision was blurry, thoughts muddled and disoriented.
It couldn't be true. It just couldn't.
"No..." She clenches onto her coat, weeping. "No."
Frustrated and broken, she lets out a blood-curling scream in the middle of the road.
"No!" She bellows, holding onto herself tightly like a child.
"No..." she whispers.
Polly had suffered too many losses in her life.
When her daughter and son were taken from her at an early age by the Parish, life was never the same. It had been her mission for the last couple months to find them, to get her kids back.
Yet, she kept having strange dreams about her daughter, Sally. In her vivid dreams, Sally was eighteen, the age she'd be now. And, she would shout. The way Polly shouts. Then she'd tell her, she's dead.
These dreams would tear through Polly's rest for nights, rendering her powerless to insomnia.
So, for her own peace of mind, she went to a reading. A local gypsy reading.
Right now, they had just confirmed her worst fears.
Her daughter was dead but her son, was still alive.
•••
LONDON
The city was still alive and rampant at these resting hours. The gloomy moon watches over, providing some light to a dark sinned city.
The Peaky Blinders had arrived.
The smoke was so thick you'd think you were underwater.
Cars engulfed and vomited people out by the second. A bulimic process in which one who arrives at London soon learns happens continuously. On every street was laughter, singing and chatter. Peace was not something that existed in London. And if it did, it was a different kind of peace.
"Why'd you make us bury that man?" John asks as they continue to walk up the street leading to Sabini's club.
Before heading into London, they stopped at an abandoned country side end. Tommy had been keeping a dead man in the back of the car and told his brothers to bury him with no further context.
"Who was he Tommy?" John wouldn't stop until he got a decent response.
"You buried a thousand men in France and not once did you ask who they were." Tommy finally gives somewhat of an answer.
"Yeah, but we're not in France anymore."
Tommy puts his arm over John as they reach the entrance of Sabini's club. "It's Irish business, I thought it'd be best if I deal with it on me own."
Two people were kissing aggressively next to the door, hands under each other's clothing. No one seemed to care, to everyone else they were invisible.
Must've been a normal occurrence in London.
"Get a bloody room." Arthur mumbles under his breath.
After talking to the guard that stood tall by the entrance, he hesitantly let's them into the madness that was Charles Sabini's club.
Booming swing music blared into their ears as they walked inside.
They'd never seen anything like this before.
Two men kissing, a man doing cocaine off a women's breasts and another person performing a walking handstand.
Suddenly, someone pushes past them, naked, and runs out the club laughing.
"It's a fucking freak show." Arthur says looking around.
On one of the chairs, a woman was grinding on top of a man, topless and moaning loudly.
Tommy was not phased, he continued to take lead, walking towards the main area of the club.
Expensive lights, expensive drinks and expensive clothes. Yet, poor and reckless behaviour. Sabini's club was the epitome of an upside down hell for the upper class.
They had finally entered the main room, the biggest room there. A large chandelier that could feed all of London hung on the ceiling and watched people dance insanely under it. Sweaty bodies moving against each other, leaving no room for any other movement.
A band at the front, played like deranged demons, as if the music blaring out their trumpets, trombones, saxophone and drums was what kept them alive.
Unimpressed, Arthur puts his hands over his ears. "What the fuck is that racket?"
"This is what they call music these days, brother." Tommy was looking for the best table to sit on.
"Music?!" Arthur exclaims.
A waitress in a incredibly short skirt, walks past John, slightly brushing against his shoulder. He couldn't help but look down at her, grinning.
Arthur looks around, taking in this foreign environment. In every corner, someone was doing some form of drugs.
A couple starts kissing passionately on a table; the woman even had her hand down his trousers. They were oblivious to the large dark shadow that just blanketed them.
"Oi!" Tommy towered over them. "Put it away."
Arthur joins him. "Fuck off!"
Petrified, the couple get up and quickly scurry off, leaving the empty spot to the Peaky Blinders.
"Look at this spot, eh?" John smiles, sitting down. "What a view."
"I'll have Irish Whiskey! Bottle!" Tommy orders to a waiter, stood up.
Arthur who was standing, shouts in the waiters ears, "And hurry up!"
"Fucking hell." John sighs, getting comfortable in his seat. "I recognise a few of these lads."
Around them, were also fellow gangsters.
"Sabini's cousin over there." Arthur nods to the table on their far right.
An Italian man was watching them with what looked like murder in his eyes.
"That's right, this is Sabini's club." Tommy explains.
Unexpectedly, a woman in a pink dress with sparkly fringes walks up to Tommy, winking. Seductively, she traces her fingers on his cheek.
John sniggers, exchanging looks with Arthur.
Tommy watches her intently without moving or saying anything.
She bends down, going for his belt.
"No, none of that." Tommy gets up, disinterested. "Up you get, now."
She tilts her head in confusion.
"He said fucking leave!" Arthur shouts in her face, making her take off hastily.
John chuckles, watching her run away. "You've got nothing to lose, Tommy."
"And everything to gain, including the fucking clap." Arthur comments, sitting back down.
The waiter returns to their table, placing down the bottle they ordered.
"So, that's how it is in London? The drinks just come with the women." Tommy was back in his seat now.
"Everyone's a face here." John was scrutinising all the tables.
"Just the lieutenants John, no sign of the officers." Tommy had picked the day when all the London bosses were occupied at the races to come to London.
"Let's line them up." John opens the bottle eagerly with a smile. "It's a bloody holiday."
The same man in a tuxedo that allowed them in, comes up to their table with men behind him.
"Gentlemen." He addresses. "There's been a mistake, I'm afraid you're going to have to leave."
Tommy and his brothers look at each other.
"We just bought a fucking bottle." John says through gritted teeth.
The man bends down a little closer to their table, so they can hear him. "Some of the men here recognise you from the racetracks in the north. They say you used to work for Kimber."
"Yeah, we get that a lot." Arthur responds.
"They say you have no business coming south of the line without prior agreement." The man continues.
Tommy sinks back into his chair, unbothered. "And what line would that be my friend?"
"They say this isn't right. It's provocation."
Tommy picks up his drink. "Right, well you tell them we're on holiday."
The man scoffs, waving his index finger. "You're breaking the rules."
Tommy downs his drink, not moving an inch. He was staying put and no one could do anything about it.
"They say you're the Peaky Blinders." The man raises his brow.
"Peaky scum!" Someone shouts, hurling a bottle towards them. It meets the glass on their table, smashing against it.
Infuriated, Tommy slams his fists against the table and gets up.
That was when all hell broke loose.
The Shelby boys were punching anyone or anything in their sight with fury. Bottles were getting smashed across faces, punches thrown in the groin, flesh was being slashed and blood on the floor was the least of it.
Everyone around them shrieked and screamed, running away from the horror that was unfolding.
Tommy dug his peaky caps blades into Sabini's cousins face, causing blood to spew onto the floor.
"Come here!" Arthur drags a man and slams his face into the wall, cracking bones.
Tommy was busy stomping someone to literal death whilst John got a bottle and shattered it onto a mans back.
The sound of a bullet cracks the air and all fighting comes to a halt.
Everyone stops, looking up at the guard who had just used the gun to silence everyone.
He points it at Tommy.
"Get out." He spits.
Tommy wipes his face, walking towards him. "Yeah?"
He was face to face with the gun now, looking up at the man. "Yeah? Are you going to use that?"
The man stands there, shaking a little.
Breathing heavily, Tommy shakes his head, "Didn't think so."
Slowly, he puts the gun down and Tommy walks around the club. He grabs a bottle from a table, nodding to himself.
"We came here, not to make enemies." Tommy starts with his hands in the air.
All eyes were on him and the whole club had fallen silent, everything had been trashed.
"No...We came here to make new friends." Tommy's brothers join him by his side.
"Those of you who are last, will soon be first." Tommy continues, glaring at everyone. "And those of you who are downtrodden, will rise up."
Arthur lights himself a cigarette, nodding at his brothers words.
"Yup," Tommy takes one final look at everyone "you know where to find us."
And with that, Tommy puts his peaky cap back on, leaving the club with his brothers, not knowing that he had just declared war with the Sabini's.
The most ruthless gang in London.
•••
"So, why were you at that party?" Rose turns to Theo, who sat beside her at the back of the Rolls Royce.
"Same reason as you, sweetheart." Theo lights himself another cigarette, he was a chronic smoker.
He smelt of vodka, smoke and the freshness of summer air all at the same time; it was strangely comforting to Rose.
"To feel alive." He elaborates. "Everyone feels more alive when they're breaking the rules."
"Why would you want to break the rules when it's people like you who make them?" Rose questions wittily.
Theo looks at the young lady next to him. She was beautiful. And her words were fast. Fast and impactful. It made you stop and think.
"Where are your 'admirers'? I would've expected you to be generous enough to bring some with you to the party, my Lord." She teases.
"So you think I'm a womaniser then?" Theo smirks. "That I have whores as accessories?"
"Everyone's a whore. We just sell different parts of ourselves." Rose had remembered those words.
"Interesting analysis." Theo nods, thinking to himself.
It was, only that it wasn't her analysis. It was Tommy's.
He chuckles to himself quietly, still thinking about her sentence. "So you think you know me?"
"I know your title and it says enough." Rose shuffles closer to the young marquess in an intimidating manner.
"Exactly. You only know my title, and a title is no judgment of character."
Theo was not intimidated at all, he even shuffled closer to her in return.
"But let me judge you. You must be a rich girl, probably an only child. Your father is a respected lawyer or corrupt politician. Your parents married young so your mother puts her tarnished dreams on you. You feel an immense amount of pressure to be great or simply nothing at all."
Rose feels her lips form a small smile. "Maybe in the next world, I could be that."
The car makes a sharp turn into a narrow street and Theo reaches his arm over Rose to stop her from bumping into anything.
"I normally know the type of person someone is by looking at them, but you, I can't put my finger on it." He locks eyes with her. "You look like an actress, like some sort of starlet."
"I'd rather be the director. I like being in control too much to be an actress." Rose moves hair out of her face.
"In control, you say? I'll remember that."
She tries to conceal her grin by turning to the window. Theo knew exactly what he was doing.
The car soon comes to an halt, at Theo's orders. He tells his driver that they'll walk the rest of the journey before thanking him.
The two walk in silence in the cold air of the night. It was much quieter now, this part of London seemed to be asleep— which was unusual.
"So who are you, Rosella?" Theo says out of nowhere as they neared Sabini's club.
He was truly captivated by this girl. The only girl that didn't seem to swoon over him.
"I don't know, I could've been a singer I guess. But now, I want to write a book or two. Publish some poems. Honestly, I just want to be someone." Rose had her arms wrapped around her as the wind danced around the city.
"Tell me. Tell me what your first book would be about?" Theo walks in front of her, so they're face to face, he swings around a lamppost.
"Hm, okay." Rose chuckles, warmed by his interest.
"I would write about some girl, some girl called um, Ruby. Yeah, Ruby from Summer Lane in Birmingham. A little fragile and naive but she's young. Her father makes money but he isn't the holiest of men. Her mother was declared insane in her formative years. She soon meets a man."
Theo listens carefully, walking beside her.
"And he's different." Rose smiles to herself. "You'll never find anyone like him. He captured the heart of Birmingham in his hand like it was nothing as well as hers. Yet, he was broken and unrighteous. A betrayer, a criminal. I guess they were two sinners that found redemption in each other. And she wants everything with him, you know, the traditional wedding in a church, house by the sea. But, he has responsibilities and a family to look after. But, she's too angry. She doesn't see that..."
Rose trails off, getting lost in the endless memories that flooded her mind.
Theo looks at her, waiting for her to finish.
"The thing is... she loves him. He doesn't want to let her down, however, she can't keep waiting for him. So one night in a hospital room, it all comes apart and they — they never see each other again."
Rose looks up at the starry sky as they walked. "They didn't get to spend Christmas together that year."
Theo hands Rose his cigarette. "That's love. It'll kill you before it makes you feel alive."
Rose let his words sink into her thoughts as they approached the entrance of Sabini's club.
"I'm sorry but they are no entries for tonight." The man at the door announces.
"I am a member of this clu—"
"My deepest apologies, sir." The man interrupts, recognising Theo. "But we've had a slight issue and the club is closing, we're about to escort people out."
"And what was the issue?" Theo questions, a little annoyed they had walked all the way here for nothing.
"The club was completely trashed by some gang. Many people were injured. Look, I am sorry for any inconveniences but you must leave." He explains apologetically.
"What gang?" Theo interrogates further.
"You're lucky, you just missed them." The man in the tuxedo looks down at his watch. "They call themselves the Peaky Blinders I believe."
Rose's brain freezes for a moment and it takes a while for his words to be comprehended.
A man and woman walk out the club. The man had a bloody face, bruised nose and was missing several teeth.
"Are you okay? You look like you're going to be sick?" Theo asks, concerned about Rose.
"Just, um, not used to seeing all the blood. That's all." She quickly lies, wiping her face.
"Let's go." Theo puts his arm around her waist. "I'll get you dropped off at home."
Rose looks back at the club. Of course it was the Peaky Blinders. That meant Tommy was here, he was actually in London— they missed him by minutes.
She knew Tommy was always one to bite off more than he could chew. Messing with the Sabini's, the most powerful gang in London, was a whole different playing field.
Little did she know that in just an hour, she'd find herself in the middle of it.
•••
thanks for reading my loves.
theo might be growing on me...