The vehicle was tugging along the old road. I try not to stare at anyone. However, these streets, just twenty minutes in, had already changed drastically from the station. Now there's still people out and about, but the air felt thicker. The alleys are darker. As if there were secrets lurking about the corners. It's a strange feeling. We turn one more corner and the vehicle comes to a gradual stop. The driver, who's name is Charles, turns to me,
"Alright Miss, here's your stop. You need to walk under the arch and the Garrison is dead ahead."
My eyes follow to where he pointed, a ball of nervousness starts to build in my stomach,
"Thank you sir."
He looks at me with a stare I can't quite define, pity maybe? Judgment? So far the people of Birmingham have been interesting to say the least. He takes a final puff of his cigarette,
"Do you need help with your bag, or?"
"No it's fine, thank you." Handing him his pay, I reach for my bag. Looking at the Garrison, I can't help but sigh. My questions should hopefully be answered soon. God, I hope this trip won't be for nothing. I brush by a group of obnoxious men, some shouting obscenities, and others staring as if I were nothing but an item to be bought. I'm almost to the door, ignoring their mockery, I reach for the door handle.
One of the men, who looked to be no older than 17, hollered out to me,
"Oi, me cherie, I'll get that door for you!"
The group starts laughing, some adding on,
"Oh yes madam!"
Rolling my eyes, I start to open the door, men are the worst. All of a sudden the pressure of a hand is on my lower back. I jerk my body around, pushing off my offender. It's the 17 year old who was instigating the scene earlier. He wore a proud smirk, oh how I wish to wipe it off his face. I take a step back but shout at him,
"Get your fucking hands off me."
"Can't a gentleman help a lady? I was only gonna open the door for you."
"Come at me again, and you'll regret it."
The group laughs again, I feel my face go red, but I keep my focus on the obnoxious blonde boy in front of me. The smile on his face is unwavering,
"I didn't mean no disrespect," sarcasm laced in his voice, "maam."
He turns back to his little group, triumphantly fist punching the air.
I rush into the cafe, why men rule the world I would never know. As the door opens, a bell rings, a man hollers,
"We're not open. Come back later!"
I couldn't see him, but the voice came from behind the counter. Treading carefully inside I holler,
"I came to see a Mr. Shelby?"
The bartender ambled his way from behind the counter. He appeared older, maybe mid forties, but he looked strong,
"Which one?"
Shoot, I don't know. I look up at him, trying to appear confident despite my lack of knowledge,
"I don't know actually, I was told to find the Shelby's, so here I am."
He nodded as if he were understanding,
"Do you have business with them?"
"Yes. Of sorts."
Possible family business, but he doesn't need to know that.
"Well none of the Shelby's are in town at the moment. I believe they're in London," he starts back behind the counter, "I believe they'll be back tomorrow morning though."
"Thank you sir."
"You'll want to go to Tommy Shelby's office," he scribbles something on a card, motioning me over, "Here's the address. Do you have a place to stay?"
"Um, no, I don't. Is there a hotel near here?" In truth I didn't really plan well for this trip at all.
He coughed, "Yes but I don't think the likes of you would fit on there," pausing to take a look at me he continued, "No you wouldn't. We have an extra room upstairs, it's fairly priced."
Setting down my suitcase, I reach into my purse,
"Wonderful, thank you, Mr-?"
"Fenton, Harry Fenton. What is your name?"
Smiling I reply,
"Catherine Brookes."
"Brookes?"
"Yes, my mother grew up here so I wanted to see her old home."
"Was your mum Elsie Brookes?"
"Yes! Did you know her?" How exciting! Maybe he knows who my father is?
He faltered, "Aye, I knew her. Lovely lady."
Alright maybe not so exciting, this is strange.
He continued, "Well as I said before, the room will be upstairs.."
After figuring out pricing and such, he shows me up to the room. It's modest, with a twin sized bed against the wall, a small desk tucked in the corner with a window above it.
"If you need anything feel free to ring," he points to a button on the wall, "But like I said earlier, the Shelby's should be back in the morning. Do you drink?"
Setting my suitcase on the bed my eyes meet his, "On special occasion, yes."
"The bar opens in a few hours if you want anything, but you should know. The men here are rather rowdy. So you might not want to come down."
Alright, definitely won't be going downstairs. I go to shake his hand,
"Thank you Mr. Fenton."
He firmly shakes it, "Alright Miss Brookes, I'll leave you to it."
Before leaving, he takes a moment to stare, as if old memories were circling his mind,
"You look a lot like your mother."
A pained smile flashes my face, politely laughing,
"Thank you, I get that a lot."
He nods and shuts the door behind him. I lock the door, placing the desk chair under the doorknob for extra security. Flopping into bed, I reminisce about my final conversation with my mother. How frail she was, lying in her bed. With a small beam of sunlight gracing her pale complexion. I didn't want to believe she was truly dying, that maybe it was a bad dream, but she had accepted it. She was so strong for such a dire situation.
"Mother, you can't leave," crying into the hem of her dress,"You'll get better. The doctor might be wrong."
Shakily bringing her hand to my face, she whispered,
"Oh Cat, the doctor isn't wrong. You know it," Taking a pause to cough, "Love, you know I wasn't born here. I'm from Birmingham, Small Heath."
I look at her, oh she looks so sickly, "Yes, and your family shipped you here because of me."
Bitterness twinged the last part. Maybe she wouldn't have gotten sick had we been there instead of here in the States.
"Cat," firmness was evident in her voice, "Birmingham, Small Heath. The Shelby family, you need to find them. Find your father, he could still be alive and well."
"I don't need him, I need you!"
I don't need a man who has never been in my life to begin with!
"Cat," a coughing fit seizes her, "You are just sixteen years old. Find him, he was a good man."
Anger flares up in my chest, "If he's so good, why isn't he here now?! With us!?"
She weakly sighs, "Cat you know it's not his fault we're here but my parents."
"I know, I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you I just-" A sob catches in my throat.
Her hand starts to falter from my face,
"I love you Cat, so much. Find him." A coughing fit attacks her one last time.
"Mom! No!" I screamed for the doctor but it was too late. She was gone. The rock of my life washed away into the river of time.
The gongs of church bells knock me out of my daydream, a tear gently rolls down my cheek. I need to find my father, he's somewhere in this city. If only I would have gotten his name. It would make it all so simple, but I suppose nothing in this life is simple. Isn't it?
AUTHORS NOTE:
Omg thanks for reading. If you have any ideas or requests for the storyline let me know! I hope you enjoy this fic, I'll try to update if not daily weekly. I have a chaotic life lol.
MWAH LOVE U