n// happy belated bday cillian ily
"Alright," Sybil spoke, trying her hardest to remain cool and collected as her husband stood in their doorway, car packed and ready to go to London. "You'll be safe, won't you? And you'll do nothing that isn't absolutely necessary? And you won't go making any new enemies if you don't have to?"
Tommy couldn't help the small smile that made its way onto his face as he listened to his wife's questions, staring at the woman lovingly.
"Aye, Sybbie. None of that." he promised, leaning against the doorframe.
"And you promise that you'll look after the others, too, right? And that when you make a deal with the Jews, you'll do nothing to offend? I've got a Jewish student, you know, and she's the only Jewish child in the whole school. They don't have it easy, Tommy, so—"
"Sybil." he interrupted, still smiling. "I'll be fine, and I'll be back before you know it."
Sighing, Billie nodded, closing the gap between them and bringing him in for a hug, which he more than happily reciprocated.
"I know, it just... It never seems to get easier. Seeing you walk into trouble like this."
"Me? Walking into trouble?" Tommy asked incredulously, looking down at his darling. "No. I would never dream of such a thing, Sybil."
For the first time all morning, Sybil let out a laugh, shaking her head at her husband's antics. One of the things she loved most about him was that no matter what, he could always be the one to bring a smile to her face.
"You're right. You are the trouble."
"Yeah." he said curtly. "I am the fucking trouble. Now come and give your trouble a kiss, eh? Send me off with something sweet from my wife?"
Rolling her eyes and not being able to fight off another smile, she pressed her lips to his and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him the goodbye he deserved.
"Get home safe," she repeated, this time with the ever-so-slightest of pouts on her face. "Promise me that."
Tommy took her face in his hands and looked her in those dark brown eyes he loved so much and took his next vow.
"I promise." he repeated seriously. "I love you, Sybbie."
"I love you too, Tom."
Sending her a reassuring smile, he pressed one more kiss to the crown of her head before separating, much to his dismay. If he weren't such an important man, he would have stayed in bed with her all morning.
"I have to go now, love," he muttered softly. "I'll be home before you know it."
Nodding, Billie crossed her arms over her chest and watched as he inched closer to the door.
"I know," she grumbled, jutting out her bottom lip. "Just go on and go already. Sooner you go the sooner you get back and all that shite."
"That's my girl," he winked. "I love you."
"I love you too. Now go before I change my mind."
Tommy laughed and shook his head as he walked out the door, muttering his classic, "Pushy girl..." as he approached the car. Sybil, of course, watching his every step until he was out of sight.
Sighing, she eventually closed her grand double doors and leaned against them, taking in the sight of her (once again) empty home. But, instead of letting those feelings fester into something bigger, she brushed it off as best as she could, and got ready to start her day. She was going to the betting shoppe, where she knew Polly was, and she was going to help.
Billie knew she was going crazy, because the very thought of helping was enough to bring a smile to her face.
The time seemed to fly by as she got ready and made her way over to the shoppe, which she took as a good sign. At this rate, Tommy was right. He would be back before she knew it, and more importantly, in one piece.
Heavens, would she ever worry about anything else?
Entering the unusually quiet betting shoppe, she was met with the comforting sight of Polly reclined in her chair, puffing on one of her thin cigarettes as she always did when no one else was looking.
"Glad to see I'm not the only one going mad with worry," Sybil joked, setting her belongings down on the table and taking the seat nearest to her aunt. "You restless, as well?"
Polly exhaled the smoke before answering.
"That's the curse of womanhood, Billie." she answered, sliding the bottle and a spare glass that she'd had on her desk. "Worrying. This is the one thing we can do to ease it just a little."
Billie, for once, took the offer with great thanks. She wasn't one for drinking this early in the morning, but fuck it. Her husband and the rest of their family were about to take over London. That warranted a little something to ease her nerves.
"Amen." she agreed, pouring herself a glass and downing it in one go. "It's fucking shite, is what it is."
Polly laughed, "Yeah. It really is."
Their little moment was interrupted by the sound of the door opening once more, causing the two woman to share a look before sitting up straighter, prepared for anything to happen in the moment. But, much to their annoyance and dismay, it was just Esme.
The very air in the room was enough to let Esme know that she wasn't exactly welcome to their little party, but she didn't let that bother her. She set her things on the table nearest Billie, took a seat, and just like the day before, opened her bloody mouth.
"You're against this, the same as me, aren't you?" she asked no one in particular.
Billie didn't even dignify her with a glance.
"Look out for anyone putting big money on Divine Star at the 3:30 at Newmarket." Polly replied, ignoring her as well. "She's one of ours. Anything over a pound, tell me."
That didn't seem to satisfy Esme. Sybil watched from the corner of her eye as the girl got out of her seat and walked over to Polly, placing a hand on her desk.
"Polly," she started. "I don't wish to pry into your business, but you should know something. That woman is a trickster."
"What woman?" Polly asked, not even looking up at the girl.
"Her sister was in the wash house early, boasting there'd been a Shelby at the table."
This piqued both of their interests, at last.
"What woman?" Pol repeated.
"Gypsies talk to each other."
"What fucking woman?"
"You went to see Mrs. Price in the Patch last night."
That seemed to be the final straw for Polly. Ripping herself from her seat, she launched herself at Esme, pinning her up against the wall before she could even comprehend what was going on.
"So what do you know?" she asked in a low hiss.
"I know they push the glass. The man, he's her cousin. He pushes the glass. It's a trick. They tell you what you already believe. She set up after the war because of all the widows." Esme explained. "Polly... I just thought you should know."
"And in this fucking wash house, did they tell you why I went there?"
Esme nodded, and before Billie could even compute what was happening, Polly had a blade to her in-law's neck.
"You tell a soul in this family, and I swear I will cut you."
"I don't need a knife to stop me from telling secrets given to me in confidence. It is a matter of honour."
Sybil watched as Esme and Polly had a staring contest, Esme not backing down until Polly did. Tucking her knife back into her coat, she stormed off, leaving the two Shelby wives to their own devices.
Finishing off her drink in one go, Sybil turned back around, and went back to what she was doing before.
"You sure do know how to pour salt in a wound, Esme." she drawled. "You're a bloody natural."
Esme let out a sigh through her flared nostrils, frustrated with the fact that when it came to her fellow Shelby women, she couldn't seem to get anything right.
"I meant no harm. She needed to know."
Sybil choked out a humourless laugh, turning around to face her sister-in-law with a smile on her face.
"My God, you really are dense, aren't you?" she spoke in astonishment. "Go on and sit down, for fuck's sake, Esme, and let me explain something to you while I'm drunk enough to look you in the eye."
Esme wasn't dense enough to waste that opportunity, no matter what was about to come of it.
"There is a mercy in keeping somethings to yourself; a kindness." Billie explained. "Polly's business is not my own, and I have no interest in hearing it unless it comes from her mouth. But if she's desperate enough to go to these lengths, despite who she is, then let her. Whatever she needs to grieve, or process, or seek closure on, let her do it on her own terms."
"She was being taken advantage of. She needed to know."
"I think part of her already did, Esme."
Esme was quiet for a while, and Sybil turned back to the books, doing what she was there to do in the first place while the girl ruminated. It was peaceful, even. Until Esme just had to go and ruin it once more.
"I'm sorry for what I said, Billie. About your condition."
Even with the liquor putting her at ease, she still stiffened.
"It was wrong of me," she continued. "It was... It was unkind."
"Yeah." Sybil agreed after a while. "It was. And if that unkindness ever leaves your lips again, I will smack it out of your vocabulary."
Esme nodded in understanding, finally looking down at the books for the first time since she got there. There was still a tension to the room, an awkwardness, even, but the Shelby women ignored it. Both of them had greater worries than their issues, and now that the air was (mostly) cleared, they could focus on them.
Sybil missed the distraction already.
But eventually, after everything that could have possibly been accomplished was done, the women had nowhere left to go but home. And while Esme got to return to her rambunctious household, Sybil returned to her quiet one, the pit in her stomach growing larger with every step. She supported her husband in (almost) everything he did, but Esme did hold a semblance of a point. London... London was a different realm. Something wicked was on the horizon, and if her husband's intuition had rubbed off on her at all during their time together, she knew that it was coming soon. Very soon.
But she was ready; she had no other choice but to be.
n// ok sorry this was so short and ended on an awkward note but OH WELL ! anyways we are sooooo back season 2 is here and she is gonna get crazzyyyyyy. let me know what u think babes and plssss vote and comment and blah blah blah i've got an ego to feed!!! love uuuuuu