𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓𝟏
It had been a few days since Maeve was discharged from the hospital and she was already sat in Tommy's office, her feet on the desk and her eyes scanning over the patterns engraved into the fancy table.
The door swung open. "Sorry to keep you waiting," Tommy walked in, hanging his coat up beside the door and standing at the opposite end of the table. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm good. Why on earth was there a boy fighting downstairs? Do they know this is a factory and not a boxing gym?" She asked. Tommy grunted and took out a box of cigarettes. "Feet off the table," he scolded.
Maeve rolled her eyes and did so, accepting a cigarette when he pointed the box toward her. "Was there a specific reason for your visit, Maeve?"
"Am i not allowed to see my dear uncle?" Maeve asked, tilting her head. Tommy rolled his eyes jokingly and blew smoke into the air. "Maeve Shelby never goes anywhere unannounced without reason." He said.
She grinned. "Doesn't she? Sounds like a great person, any chance i could meet her?"
Tommy shook his head and glanced through the blinds out into the hallways. "I heard from someone that you want Finn to move in with ya." He said. She nodded proudly. "I do. Not like he has anywhere else to go."
"That's not true." Tommy disagreed. She hummed, "yes it is." Maeve wasn't arguing with him, but instead just correcting him. She wasn't particularly in the mood for arguing.
Before either of them could continue, a man entered. "I did say this would happen," he said nervously. Tommy walked over to Maeve, standing behind her chair. "Who's next?" Tommy asked.
The man looked down at his list. "Someone from the European Council for Trade. He's here to talk about the import of car parts to France."
Tommy placed two hands on the desk and looked down. "Right."
"He's come all the way from Paris. But given your recent family trouble, i can send him away." The man suggested. Tommy looked up. "Given what trouble? Send him in."
Maeve grinned and watched the man leave for a few moments. "From France." She tutted. Footsteps echoed outside before the door opened once more.
"Mr Shelby, this is Monsieur Pas from Paris." He introduced, a man close behind. A man who had a face Maeve couldn't help but recognise. Tommy also recognised him. The door closed again, leaving just the three of them in the room.
"I heard you had trouble. It's good of you to see me." He began, his accent thick. Maeve sat forward and held a hand up to him, "hold on a minute you ain't French. You're from bloody America—where is it? New York!" She excused.
Tommy placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "You just came from Paris, eh?"
The dark haired man unbuttoned his jacket and took a seat. "You know Paris?" He asked. Tommy stared at him, "i left Paris in a cattle truck. They said you were French."
"No, i came here from Paris. That does not mean i'm French." He grinned. Maeve leaned forward, "something funny?"
"Maeve." Tommy warned.
"Guess where i'm from?" The man taunted. Maeve pointed a finger at him, "i just said only a few seconds ago that you're from bloody New York! So don't be trying to play some silly little games you silly little man." Maeve said, sounding completely like Alfie Solomons.
Tommy began searching his coat that was on the coat rack, taking out his box of cigarettes again after finishing his other one. "Well in my cattle truck, in Paris— there were American soldiers. We played cards. They sound like you."
"Yeah? Did you win?"
"You didn't come on a train. Your suit is pressed, your shoes are clean." Tommy observed. "Where d'ya get your suits made? They're shit." Maeve teased.
"From a tailor. New York City."
She snapped her fingers and looked at Tommy with excitement. "See! I told you— didn't i bloody say he was from New York?"
"Look," the man showed the inside of his jacket, "Finacci. Italian. He's my uncle, makes suits in a basement. He is my uncle so every stitch is stitched with blood. I heard you dress well, Mr Shelby. But now i see, not so well as me."
He earned a scoff from Maeve. "Hes proper full of himself ain't he? Are you done yapping yet?" She asked him.
"You know i have uncles as well." Tommy began, "but they're not the sort of men who would work in a basement with a needle and thread..Mr Changretta."
Maeve's heart dropped and she quickly leaned back in her chair and stopped talking. Luca Changretta.
"I'm surprised how easy it was to get into a room with you." He said. Tommy pulled his gun from behind his back and cocked it. "And now?"
"And now..you should know that during the trouble you had earlier on your factory floor, i sent an accomplice into your office in overalls. He found ya gun." The Changretta man withdrew bullets from his pocket, "and unloaded it."
Tommy checked his gun. Maeve discretely clutched her own, keeping her hand hidden.
Luca placed a bullet down. "Arthur Shelby." He said. Maeve bit her tongue and watched him continue placing bullets down, "Polly Gray..Micheal Gray— John Shelby." Luca paused and flicked it, allowing it to roll off the table. "Spent."
"He ain't dead you bastard." Maeve snapped, standing and leaning down to grab the bullet, tucking her gun into her pocket before doing so. Maeve leaned forward and placed the bullet back on the table, beside the rest of them. "You'll have to try again."
Luca scowled at her and placed another down. "Ada Thorne..Tommy Shelby. And finally— Maeve Shelby." His tone was cold and Maeve breathed heavily, reaching into her pocket, taking her gun and removing a bullet from it. She shoved it into his hand and watched as confusion spread across Luca's features.
"You'll need more than one bullet to kill me, Luca." She hissed. "You've tried, you've failed. Just like the hit man you sent after me last year."
She walked backward toward Tommy, not taking her eyes from Luca.
He let out a breathy laugh and stood. "None of you will survive. Your level of security is pitiful. You have an organisation of a different dimension— i could've killed you when I walked through the door." He was more specifically talking to Maeve. "But you see, i want you to be the last. I want you to be alive after your entire family is dead because my mother says that's what will hurt you the most. You people have traditions of honour, as do we. When i assigned you the black hand, i could've had you killed in the night."
He paused. "I didn't. I want you to know why and i wanna suggest to you that if we fight this vendetta with honour," Luca turned his attention to Tommy.
Tommy placed his gun down. "No civilians, no children." Luca pointed a finger at him. "No police."
"Welcome to Birmingham, Mr Changretta."
-
Maeve was awoken by a loud bang, causing her to sit up quickly. She looked around, almost forgetting that they were staying in the old house on Watery Lane.
She got out of bed and almost ran into Tommy. "He fired the bullet," Linda told them as they got outside. "Fuck off, Linda. Just for once, fuck off." Maeve demanded, her enthusiasm making her sound like John.
Arthur stood, staring out at the fog. "Linda says it's the modern way, Tom."
"Oh for crying out loud! John ain't dead, i ain't dead! Fuck off with this bullshit, dad. It's a vendetta that needs fighting. We are alive. They failed at what they wanted to do so why are you acting like this? You need to learn to let it go." Maeve snatched the gun from his hand.
Tommy gently shoved her away. "Go inside, Finn is downstairs— Maeve just go inside." Tommy scolded her.
She gave in and shoved past Linda, going down the stairs. "This family is going weird, Finny. They're all going weird." Maeve said, groaning and throwing herself beside him on the couch.
Finn laughed. "Agreed."
"Where have you been anyway?" She asked. Finn frowned. "At the betting den." He said. Maeve sat up. "You've been sleeping at Polly's old house by yourself?"
"Yeah..that's where my bedroom is. It's just that nobody is there unless they're working."
"During all this madness, you're staying alone in that house?!" She asked. Finn looked at her with concern, "last time i checked, it wasn't me the Changretta's were after." He shrugged.
"That's not the point, Finn. They don't care who they're after. They care about making people suffer. So who's stopping them from going after you?"
He stayed quiet.
"I've spoke to dad already, when this blows over slightly— you'll be moving in with us where you'll have people to talk to. And you can't tell me no, Finny." She said. He just looked at her, trying not to let the excitement escape him.
"Seriously? I'll be able to move in with you?"
She nodded happily and sat back again. "I don't care if dad says no, i'm saying yes." The corners of his mouth turned upward and he looked away. "But when will that be? I doubt you'll be back at the other house for a while."
Maeve hummed. "I don't know but whenever it is— you'll be there. If you want, i can come stay at Polly's old house with you? Just like when we were kids."
Finn thought for a moment before nodding. "I'd like that."
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didn't proof read this.