chapter twelve / season one episode three.
"I AIN'T SEEN HER IN NINE DAYS, NORA," Charlotte Junia huffed, her hands on her hips as she ranted outside of the Faye residence, the sound of a screaming baby and the matron of the household cooing softly filled the silence that followed her words, "Ain't you worried about that?"
Eleanora looked back at the Junia girl, bags under her eyes that were deeper than normal, carrying more exhaustion than normal too. "My Uncle has been missing for just as long as that, Lottie. Why aren't we going out looking for him?"
"Weren't you listenin'?" Charlotte queried, in serving her friend's knotted her, her dirtied dress and the exhaustion that oozed out of her body. It was no wonder she hadn't been listening, the screaming baby and the lack of energy had probably drawn whatever short attention span she had. "I said we could get Liv, and then go on the lookout for your Uncle."
"Polly said she was sick." Eleanora said, looking behind her to check her Mother and brother weren't up to no good in the kitchen. "If she's sick she isn't going to be doing any searching now, is she?"
Eleanora was grasping at strings. She had a plethora of excuses at the tip of her tongue to not go and fetch Olivia Shelby from her palace at Watery Lane, the most obvious being that she needed to stay behind and care for her brother whilst her Mother caught up on the lost sleep. (Not that her own Mother ever let the teenage girl catch up on her own lost sleep) And the boy had been screaming for days, as if he missed his Uncle's absence. Which was an absurd thought but the only reasoning for his screaming that Eleanora and her Mother could think of. Additionally, Eleanora did not want to speak to Olivia Shelby, let alone knock on her front door.
Eleanora was a Faye, they were petty people. They held grudges. It used to be that if you fell out with the Fayes, you were never getting back into their good books and you were banned from their farm, there may also be a few threats thrown in here or there. The Faye girl was sticking to her last name's reputation, and she believed that Olivia had to see the privilege her last name came with, a privilege no-one else got to have in this town, and if the silent treatment was the only way to make Olivia see this then so be it! Eleanora wasn't afraid of the cold shoulder or zipped lips for a couple of days.
(Eleanora was forgetting that Shelbys were famously stubborn and were allergic to apologizing)
Charlotte scoffed, "Liv was sick eight days ago, nobody is ever sick for that long."
"Unless it's a chronic illness." Eleanora muttered.
Unluckily, Charlotte had heard the mutter, "You and I know for a fact that the only thing that's taking Olivia is out is her own stupidity to follow in Thomas Shelby's footsteps, not a chronic illness."
"And you know what else?" Charlotte tilted her head to the side, wrapping her coat tighter around herself, "If you were missing, she would turn up at your house with no questions asked, and no excuses. Whether you were arguing or not."
It was a quality that reminded Charlotte she could separate Olivia from the rest of the Shelbys. Her willingness to help her friends was unmatched within the Shelby family. Yes, the Shelbys did favors for friends but it was not very often they would step out of that jurisdiction and do something for a friend just because they valued the friendship, or wanted to see their friend content or even alive.
It was a quality Charlotte never wanted Olivia to lose, a quality she didn't want stripped from Olivia by Thomas.
"You can't just say that." Eleanora sighed, "Olivia's uncle isn't missing—"
"And I told you we'd go find him, now get your coat on." Charlotte said, sternly. The plan had been laid out and it wasn't as if they were going to neglect the case of Eleanora's missing Uncle.
Even if it wasn't a major loss.
Johnny Faye was a crook, he was a cruel man who always wore the evil glare even on a good day. Even if he had very few of those. He worked in a factory, like most men in Small Heath, with soot on his face, dirtied hands and nails and an air of arrogance that followed him wherever he went. He thought he was someone, someone who had a big impact on people's lives, thought he was special. Johnny Faye was a communist, who took in his brother's wife and children to take advantage of their grief and claim the inheritance as his own, spend it all on booze and then come back home to backhand them.
He was nothing special. Johnny Faye was scum. With an evil, black heart that spread misery and infected the lives of those who lived happily.
He was not a good man.
Charlotte couldn't understand why Eleanora wanted to find him, the world was a safer, happier and better place without him. The sun had even descended upon Small Heath after the official declaration that he was a missing man. Wasn't that a sign?
"Sorry, 'M late, was jus' putting me socks on when Lottie came round and then Grandma had to dry them and whatnot—"
Kian Cormac came speeding round the corner, his boot laces whipping against the wall until he knelt down to tie them up, a green jacket zipped up around his midsection and a green scarf wrapped around his neck.
Eleanora glared at Charlotte, "You invited him?"
Charlotte laughed, patting Kian on the shoulder when he stood up, smiling at Eleanora, "You keep up that act, Nora, and they'll get you an award."
Kian's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He spent many days confused in Small Heath. Mostly, from how the people speak, and how there was a gang that basically controlled the whole place, how he was friends with someone apart of that gang, how he was apart of a gang and how he was searching for a man he'd never met in his life just because he was Eleanora's relative. That last one was incredibly important: firstly, he was doing something for Eleanora just to spend more time with her. And secondly, how the hell was Kian supposed to find this missing Uncle if he didn't have a single clue as to what said Uncle looked like?
"Act—?"
Eleanora pointed a finger at Lottie as she reached behind the door to grab her coat, "Shut your mouth, or I'll throw you in the Cut."
"I'd like to see you try." Charlotte commented, cheekily, as the three began the descent down the stairs of the Faye's flat building. Eleanora pulling her coat on as they did so. "D'ya think Liv's okay?"
"She always goes off the radar." Eleanora replied.
Kian frowned, "Why does she do that?" He asked, concern laced in his voice for the Shelby he saw as a friend. Yes. Kian was seriously considering Olivia Shelby his friend.
He hadn't had many of those back in Ireland.
Charlotte sighed, "It's usually only for a day or two, sometimes she just... does it. She never tells us why, just comes back two days later with a fresh smile on her face, pep in her step. Like nothing were ever wrong."
"And do ya ask her what's wrong?"
Eleanora rolled her eyes, "Getting Olivia Shelby," she sneered, "to tell you what's wrong is like getting a sealed vault to open."
Kian shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "But, a sealed vault has a way to be opened, don't it? I mean, in the books the robbers always manage ta get the money in the end. So, surely if you asked hard enough, you could get 'Livia to tell you the truth."
"I'm gonna tell you something, Kian, alright?" Eleanora let her gaze wander upon the Irish boy, "If you ever ask Olivia Shelby what's wrong, she will punch you in the face. Understand?"
Kian looked back at the girl he was kind to, the girl who had this hard exterior that he swore to break down. "I just don't think that's true." He confessed, "I think anyone will tell you the truth if they feel comfortable with you."
"So, now Olivia doesn't feel comfortable with us?" Eleanora laughed, bitterly, under her breath, "Friends for how long and she can't even trust us?"
"Sorry." Kian muttered, as they came to a stop to let a car pass, "That came out wrong, sorry. I don't think she wants to tell you the truth because she's afraid of how you'll react, scared you'll see her differently."
Charlotte frowned. Her eyes focused on the pavement beneath them as they crossed into Olivia's side of town. She wished Olivia didn't fear their reaction. Charlotte had known the Shelby girl since they were in nappies, since the age that they bathed together. They'd grown together. They were girls together. They'd seen every good and bad, and waited for more to come so that they could go through it together. It made her heart ache that Olivia, probably, couldn't see that Charlotte didn't care what she'd done, she was always going to love the girl she'd grown up with. The girl she knew was different from the rest of the Shelbys.
Eleanora scoffed, "The only way I'd ever see Olivia Shelby differently was if she'd killed someone."
...
"Watch where you're going!" Someone shouted at Charlotte, a Cockney twang to his words. Her eyes had been so focused on the pavement beneath her that she hadn't realized she'd walked straight into someone.
Straight into Jack.
"Oh, sorry, didn't mean to shout." Charlotte shrugged off his apology, knowing he didn't mean the apology that fell from his lips. "What are you two doing on this side of town?"
Jack eyed Kian, looking the boy up and down. "And who's this?"
Kian pointed at himself with an unsure, and uneasy look on his face, "Me? I'm... I'm Kian? We're at the same school."
Jack's tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth, "Are you sure? I don't think I've ever seen you before."
Eleanora rolled her eyes, "Yes, he does go to our school, and he hangs out with us. So, I'm sure you know about him, Jack."
Charlotte spoke up next, ready to diffuse the fight before it even began between Eleanora and Jack, "We're gonna go see Liv, see if she's gonna get out the house today and then go look for Nora's Uncle."
Jack nodded his head, "Is he on a bender or something?"
"No." Eleanora said, sharply, "He's missing. Police said he's probably dead."
"Oh." He said, simply. The mention of death seemingly unfazing him. He had no reaction.
Jack Wallace posed no reaction to death, at all. After all, a young boy who had grown up around guns and death was bound to grow into a teenage boy desensitized to it all, and become the murderer that he'd seen around him. That his Da had raised him to be.
Jack looked between them all, and their expecting gaze. "What?"
"Have you seen her?" Charlotte queried.
"Who?"
"Olivia, you dimwit." Eleanora grumbled, clearly not in the mood for his foolish act.
"Oh!" Jack said, "Yeah. I saw her a couple of days ago. We went down town and got some Bon Bons, it was well nice until John came and spoiled it all."
The three stared back at him in shock.
"What'd'ya say?" Kian asked, dumbfounded but seemingly the only one who could form a coherent sentence. "She were out of the 'ouse and none of us knew?"
Jack's eyebrows furrowed, "She hasn't been out since?"
"Do you think we'd be asking if she had?" Eleanora glares at him. She didn't like him. And she didn't like many people, (Kian no longer included on this list), but Jack made it right to the top of her hate list. There was something about him, that she couldn't quite place her finger on, but she didn't like it. Not one bit.
Charlotte frowned, inside of her pockets her fingers picked at the skin surrounding her nails, "Why would she go out with you but not us?"
He tried not to take offense. But, it was in a 'Wallace's' blood to take any little comment to heart.
And he'd remember that comment.
"So, she's perfectly fine, alive and breathing? No cause for concern?" Eleanora queried, the questions flying off her tongue faster than Jack could comprehend. "And I didn't need to come out of my house to come and find her? She's got some nerve—"
Jack cleared his throat, derailing her monologue before it could begin, "I mean, I haven't seen her in at least two days. And when I did see her it wasn't exactly like she was in a perfect condition."
"What the hell does that mean?" Charlotte demanded answers. She too did not like Jack. He was suspicious. Every word that fell from his lips felt like they had an ulterior motive, a secret held behind them.
"She was all pale. Shaky. Unlike her."
"And how would y'know what is like Liv?" Kian asked. "You've spoke to her twice at best."
Eleanora stared at Kian with a glint in her eyes.
Jack shrugged, "Guess I just thought I knew some things about her, I mean the two hours we spent together—"
Charlotte cut him off with a scoff, grabbing onto Eleanora's and Kian's hands before dragging them away from him, "I hate him." She muttered to them, before hurrying off in the direction of Watery Lane.
"Hold up!" He called after them, chasing after them. "Come on, don't be like that! I wanna help look for your Uncle, and make sure Liv's alright."
He ran in-front of them causing them to come to a stop.
"Olivia," Charlotte sneered at him, "will be perfectly fine without you."
"Come on," Jack groaned, throwing his head back, "I'm just being a caring friend, just like the rest of you."
"Since when were you and her friends?" The distaste was clear in Eleanora's question.
"Since we shared that bag of Bon Bons—"
Charlotte, huffed, loudly, dragging the two of her friends off with Jack trailing behind them. "If we ignore him, he'll go away."
"I could always punch him." Kian offered in a whisper, as Jack trailed behind them whistling to himself as they turned into Watery Lane.
Eleanora laughed, quietly under her breath, "Kian, please."
"Are you giving me permission?" He asked.
Eleanora shook her head as they came to a stop outside of Olivia's house, the front curtains were closed as always but as the Faye girl stepped out she noticed even Olivia's bedroom curtains were shut. Something which was unusual for the girl who demanded she kept the curtains open until the last ray of sunlight so that she'd be able to read for as long as possible.
Charlotte wrapped the door in her secret code. "Will you stop that G-d awful whistling? I've heard a dead dog do better."
Jack falsely smiled, "That isn't very nice now, Miss Junia."
Kian and Eleanora exchanged a look, the Irish boy almost pleading with her but the Faye stood her ground. They couldn't beat him up outside of Watery Lane, that would look bad. They'd have to wait just a little bit longer.
"I swear to—" Charlotte cursed under her breath, knocking multiple times on the front door. Almost begging for a Shelby to let them in so that they didn't have to spend more time than necessary with Jack.
"Alright! Alright!" One of the Shelbys barked from inside the house, "It's too fuckin' early for this." The Shelby grumbled, rubbing at his eyes as he opened the door to the group of four.
"Look, we don't donate to charity or owt like that." John said, "And if you're here to visit any man named Shelby try the Garrison."
Kian looked at the tired John Shelby on confusion, "Ain't you a Shelby, Sir?"
John narrowed his eyes on each and every member of the quartet, his gaze narrowing the longest on Jack. "Depends who's asking? What's it you want?"
Charlotte stared at John in disbelief, she'd been round this house so many times. She was a frequent visitor for tea, weekends etc, and John was standing here not recognizing her. "John?" She asked incredulously, "Are you being serious!"
John stared back at the Junia girl. "Yeah."
"It's me. Charlotte. Junia." She said, "And Eleanora Faye. Olivia's friends."
"Liv ain't got no mates."
"I've known her since we were in nappies, John. I think that constitutes for friendship." Charlotte argued.
"That's a big word," John frowned, "Don't use big words to try and intimidate me, it ain't gonna work. Just tell me who you're here for."
Clearly the Shelby family had upped the security on Watery Lane in recent days.
Jack smirked to himself. "We're here to see our friend."
"I ain't having no Cockney in this house."
A groan sounded on the stairs, "Shut the door!" Finn shouted, "It's freezing in 'ere!"
John rolled his eyes, looking back at the youngest Shelby, "These cold callers are wasting me time."
Finn peaked his head out the door, turning back to look at John in confusion, "Those aren't cold callers. Those are Liv's mates. You've known Charlotte since she was a baby, and Nora's always 'round on weekends."
"And the lads?" If John was to let either of them in, we all know he'd only be letting Kian over the threshold of Watery Lane.
"That's Kian. Lovely fella. Ain't got a bad bone in his body. I don't know about the other one, he's looks weird."
Jack scoffed, "I guess I'll wait outside." He murmured.
Charlotte rolled her eyes as John opened the door up to them, "Yeah, I guess you will."
Finn led the way, with John giving Jack one final glare before slamming the door to the house shut. These four walls of Watery Lane were the same four walls Olivia had inhabited for seven days, the seven days following her excursion out into town with Jack.
He led the group into the kitchen, with the two Shelby boys slotting into chairs at the table beside Olivia, who had previously been splitting up an orange into segments to distribute between herself and her siblings. And, she'd spent an even longer amount of time making sure all the orange pith had been peeled from Finn's orange.
He was funny like that.
Olivia's head snapped up at the sound of the extra footsteps, fear ignited in her eyes as her friends... her friends stop opposite the kitchen table. In the kitchen lighting she worried they could see her for all that she was: a murderer, scum, a terrible friend.
But, all they saw was a pale girl, who looked nearly unrecognizable, with a bruise that had turned yellow and green on her neck and her wrists were still covered in bandages from an injury that they didn't know about. They were used to seeing the girl in pale colored dresses, as they were her favorite to dirty, but today she sported a dark navy dress and her hair was down unlike it's usual plaits or ponytail.
It wasn't even like they were looking at Olivia Shelby.
John picked up one of his segments, "What's it you want then?"
Usually, Olivia would kick her older brother under the table for his rudeness, or maybe even scold him verbally and the group seemed to wait for that. The funny quip that would follow, or the flick of his ear. And yet it never came.
Olivia didn't open her mouth.
"We wanted to see our Liv." Charlotte said with some hesitance. "Haven't seen her in a while, were wondering if she was alright."
"She were sick." John told them, him and Finn exchanging a glance as Olivia stared back at her friends.
Friends. Friends. Friends that she'd known for varying lengths of times, and yet loved them all the same. Despite arguments, cold shoulders and maybe suspicions of if they were a traitor. Friends were Olivia Shelby's only escape from the world of being a Shelby. There was no pressure when she was with her friends, she did stupid things and didn't worry about the consequences because it made her friends laugh. Olivia had always done her best to make them laugh. She loved their laughter. She loved the way it made her feel happier, brightened a bad day.
Olivia was lucky she had any friends, after all she was Shelby scum. To have three friends was a blessing, to have three friends was the perfect amount for her. To be friends with Charlotte Junia, Eleanora Faye and Kian Cormac felt incredible. To grow with these people, to laugh, cry... it was the source of many memories for Olivia.
She loved her friends.
And, yet, in this moment, she hated that they stood in Watery Lane, stood opposite her. Almost as if they were waiting for her to speak.
Olivia despised that her friends were here, that they could see her bandaged wrists, her bruised neck, her shallow and pale face. She hated that they stared at someone they didn't recognize, and all Olivia could do was stare back at them.
Olivia didn't recognize herself either.
She had hoped her friends would forget about her for a few weeks, and then they'd find her again when she was normal and no longer a murderer.
Olivia was beginning to realize that a title like that stuck around. Even if Jack had bought her Bon Bons, and her family had surrounded her in a group hug, she was still Shelby scum, the Shelby murderer.
Jack had told her it was going to get better.
He lied.
It got worse. Everyday felt worse and worse. She didn't let any light into her room, all mirrors had been covered by a shirt or dress, she often felt goosebumps alight on her arms as if he was haunting her and she'd only eat oranges and maybe a bowl of cereal. She was becoming a shell of herself.
She was driving herself crazy. The rest of the family died down on their approaches of comforting her, Tommy had given her some more of his books to keep her occupied, John had stopped buttering her toast and instead left her cereal bowl in her spot at the table, Arthur stopped telling his joke and Finn continued to be himself.
Polly didn't stop her ways. She kept hovering. She would often be the one to get the girl out of bed everyday, brush her hair and offer to do it for her.
"Is she still sick?" Charlotte asked.
Eleanora scoffed, and due to the chaos that had ensued since the night at the canal Olivia had forgotten that the Faye was angry at her. "Clearly, she can hang out with Jack but not us."
Finn grimaced, eating his own segment of the orange Olivia had peeled.
Olivia looked up at John, begging him to speech for her.
"She felt fine that day," John said, "Bug came back around, I guess."
"No sickness bug has ever stopped Olivia before." Charlotte murmured.
Olivia felt her stomach twist. It was more than a bug. She'd killed someone. And doing that certainly made her pause, it made the days longer and the skies darker. It was no easy thing to come back from, and Olivia worried that she may never come back from it ever.
She worried this was how the rest of her life would be.
Olivia couldn't live like this. Afraid. Afraid of the ghost that followed her around Watery Lane, afraid of her friends finding out the truth.
The truth. She didn't think she'd ever be able to tell the truth. The truth meant their pity, and changed perceptions of her. She couldn't have that. Olivia had to be their funny friend, their idiotic friend, the one who did their maths homework but not her own.
That was who she was.
That was who she was.
What was she now? Murderer, sinful, scum.
They should never have to see that.
"This one did. Finn brought it home." The boy went to object, but John raise his eyebrows at him, "Ain't that right, Finn?"
"Yeah. Real nasty bug." He said, even if he was going to be having stern words with his brother later to not use him as a scape goat in future.
"Can she come out with us or not?" Eleanora's tone implied that she was not happy with this situation at all. Her uncle needed to be found and now. She didn't have time to coddle a sick Olivia.
She needed her uncle found, dead or alive. Dead meant that they'd have a chance at his small sum of inheritance. Alive meant she had to keep him away.
John shrugged, "It's up to her."
Olivia kicked him this time. She wanted him to say no, wanted to say she was never allowed outside of these four walls ever again. The four walls that has previously drove her crazy were now the only walls she felt safe inside. The brick of Watery Lane separated her from the real world, the world she didn't know how to fit into anymore.
Eleanora's gaze burnt into her skull. "You're coming, alright? Charlotte dragged me down here in the first place, so get your boots on and a coat."
Olivia looked down at the wooden table, "Why?" She asked. Her voice was even unlike her, it sounded like it didn't belong to her, conveyed emotions that her friends had never seen before: fear, sadness.
And Eleanora even heard the guilt that was laced within the simple question.
"My uncles missing, Olivia. So get up, and join us out there to find him."
"I don't wanna—"
"Don't." Eleanora cut her off, and Kian placed a hand on her elbow, "Get up, Shelby. You're the best chance I've got at finding him."
"I can't, I'm still not 100%—"
"You look fine to me." Eleanora lied, and even Olivia who hadn't looked at herself in a mirror knew she was lying. "You went out with Jack, so you can most certainly come out with us."
Olivia wished he hadn't told them about that. That day had been her good day. When things had actually felt like they'd get better and now she wasn't so sure they would.
John looked between his sister and her friends, a frown on his face, "If she said that she ain't up for it, she ain't up for it."
Olivia placed her hand on his arm, squeezing it before pushing her chair back. "'M not stayin' out long."
Eleanora rolled her eyes, "Yeah, we wouldn't wanna let you go a cold now, would we?"
Olivia ignored her comment, pulling her coat on and looking down at her muddy boots that rested beside the door. The muddy boots she'd worn that night. Still covered in mud and dried water from the muddy puddles. She hadn't worn them since.
She'd worn an old pair out with Jack, had wet feet just so that she didn't have to curl her toes in the boots she'd almost died in.
No other pair of boots were downstairs, Eleanora was rushing her...
She had no choice but to wear her muddied boots, that had a speck of blood on the laces.
❋
It felt like every person she walked past stared at her. It felt like they knew what she was, what she'd done.
It felt like they knew there was blood on her boots.
Nobody knew. Nobody except the Shelbys knew what she'd done, Jack as well.
And yet, every person who walked past stared at her like they knew.
Some barged shoulders with the Shelby girl, and for once she let them. Too tired to fight something she deserved.
"We already checked here a couple days ago." Kian mumbled to Eleanora, as they checked one of the alleyway that led back to the Shelby side of town. "What about the alley down there, the long one? The one people avoid at night."
He pointed in the direction of a familiar alleyway. Kian hadn't known what he'd just asked to do, it was harmless really, he was just trying to help Eleanora and had subjected Olivia to time spent in the alley she'd killed someone in.
Olivia couldn't scream or shout that she didn't dare step onto the cobbled path she'd nearly died on, because then they'd ask questions and then she'd have to tell them.
Tell them what you are.
The voice of the murdered sounded ghoulish, almost unreal. Yet, Olivia knew it was real. It was one of the only things she knew at the moment: that she was being haunted and there was no amount of clawing at her ears that could send it away.
Her bloodied boot stepped out onto the cobbled path, whilst Charlotte, Eleanora, and Kian called out for her uncle. She hung back. A hand steadying her on the alley wall.
The alley that her back had been pressed against, and choked against.
Subconsciously, she rubbed at the fading bruise on her neck. It still ached, and it wasn't pretty. The now yellow and green bruise was still ugly, still a wretched reminder of the fate she'd almost endured that night.
A part of her wanted it to stay forever, to know that it was real. Olivia wanted the pain so that she could suffer forever, because that's what the ghost told her she needed to do.
A hand was placed on her elbow, and she immediately flinched and pushed the person against the opposite wall of the alley, their hand pressed firmly against their back.
Jack breathed out, "Woah, Olivia. Just me."
Just me.
Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, and her hold on the Cockney boy remained. "Don't do that. Don't sneak up on me. Not here."
"I know, sorry. I shouldn't have." He should've known better. He knew where they stood. The bloodied and tainted cobble their feet rested on.
He knew.
Olivia let go of him, staring off at the shadows of her friends up ahead. "I can't go down there—"
"I know."
She glanced up at him, "It's not getting better either." She whispered, afraid her confession would echo off the walls like it had done the last time she was in this alley. "I'm getting worse."
"It takes time, Olivia." He replied.
Olivia stared at him, with a crease in her brow, "I don't want it to take time. I want it over. I want to be fixed. I want to be normal."
"That's not possible."
"Don't say that." She spoke with gritted teeth. "I can go back—"
"There is no going back. You did what you had to, and you have to accept that to move on. You are what you are now." Jack told her, keeping a safe distance away from her, "You killed someone, Olivia, that happened. And for it to get better, you need to accept what you did."
"You say it like its easy."
"It's not." He shrugged, "I know that. But, sitting in the same house for seven days straight isn't going to make it easy. You have to get out, do things that make you grateful to be here and take your mind off of it."
Olivia huffed and squeezed her eyes shut. She took blind steps forward in the alleyway.
Jack followed after her, he'd have to catch if she fell. And if she fell that meant touching her. He hoped she wouldn't be afraid of his touch anymore.
"Hey!" Eleanora called, Olivia wincing at the voice that echoed off the walls. "I need you to speak to this copper, Shelby!"
Olivia's eyes opened instantly. "Why...?" She called back hesitantly. Copper. They'd arrest her. They'd know.
"Ask him some questions about what happened here a couple of days ago."
You don't need to ask the copper, just as your friend Olivia.
Jack smiled sadly at her. "Come on, let's get it over with."
Olivia approached the copper with apprehension, all Shelby confidence that they expected of her was missing, totally vanished. As if it was never there to begin with.
The copper hadn't even been sure he was talking to a Shelby at first, but he answered her questions nonetheless. Just incase she was really a Shelby. He'd told the group of teenagers that early morning 9 days ago there was signs of a murder, but no body. There'd been blood, almost everywhere in the alley. Signs of two people fighting, drunkards most likely.
Not me. They didn't think it was me.
"There's no evidence to who did it, but a witness said they saw a commie enter down here. Something Faye, but there's no body tell us if it was actually him or not."
The confession from the copper hung heavy in the alleyway.
Olivia gulped. No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
Olivia swallowed the bile that dared rise in her throat.
"What?" Eleanora whispered, Charlotte and Kian being the only friends to offer her the comfort she needed in that moment. "Johnny Faye? You're saying it was him?"
"Only the eye witness can confirm that. They're coming back to the station this weekend to give us a detailed account of what they saw."
Jack gulped. There was his weekend plans unknowingly aired to everyone else.
Eleanora's bottom lip trembled.
She couldn't have.
No.
She didn't.
No.
Olivia turned around, the bile rising from her throat and landing on the cobbled floor. Some even landed onto her boots, and morbidly she hoped it wiped the blood off of them. She squeezed her eyes shut, her head resting against the cobbled wall.
This alleyway was the alleyway Johnny Faye had attacked her in. Her blood had mixed with his on the floor, the sharp bottle neck had been pressed against both of their neck, slashed both of their wrists and it had only been Olivia who made it out on the other side.
Johnny Faye was dead. He'd been murdered. By his niece's friend.
By Olivia Shelby.
Johnny Faye.
Johnny Faye.
Johnny Faye.
No.
She refused to believe it.
"Oh, Liv." Charlotte kept one arm wrapped around Nora's shoulders and her other hand came and patted Olivia's shoulder.
Olivia flinched.
"I gotta go." Olivia mumbled, attempting to stand up straight but her head felt woozy and her eyes felt like they were playing tricks on her: she swore that she saw Johnny Faye stood waiting at the end of the alleyway for her. She could see him now.
For nine days she hadn't been able to see the man she'd murdered.
And now she saw him clear as day. And it felt worse than the not knowing.
"Liv, stay, please." Charlotte begged, "We need you to stay for Nora."
Olivia wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and she fought the urge to be sick again. "I can't. I'm sick, I'm gonna make all of you sick. I wanna be there for her when I'm better."
"I don't want her getting sick on-top of all this." This. Call it what it is, because after all Olivia you'd known Johnny Faye was dead longer than anyone else.
Eleanora glanced back at her friend, who had somehow become more pale. "Go home, Liv."
"I'll come round tomorrow." Olivia promised.
"I know you will." Eleanora smiled with tears in her eyes.
Her Uncle. Her wretched Uncle. Scum walking. The bastard was dead. And yet, she cried for him. Her cries echoing off the walls of the alleyway as Olivia Shelby retreated on home with the face of Johnny Faye following her. Her Uncle. Dead. Her tormentor, who had begged to take her father's place, was dead.
And all Eleanora was filled with was sadness and dread. They'd have no income. The bastard couldn't even stay alive to provide them the money to keep afloat. It was very little money. But, it was enough. They needed that. That's what Johnny was for: money. And now they didn't have that. They had nothing.
Nothing.
The gravity of the situation was one Eleanora had ignored for 9 days. She'd hoped he'd just turn up on their doorstep, a pile of money in his hands and all the problems would go away.
But, they hadn't. They'd gotten worse.
And Eleanora didn't know it yet, but that was all thanks to Olivia Shelby.
❋
A knock sounded on the door of Watery Lane.
Thomas Shelby had had a long day. He hadn't done a lot, but the constant thought of his baby sister rested heavy in his mind. All the ways he wanted to make her feel better but afraid to get too close incase she'd flinch, or fight him off.
He was glad Johnny Faye was dead.
Tommy rubbed at his eyes as he opened the front door, a sense of familiarity floated in the air as he opened the door to a barely awake Olivia, who rested against the door frame, sobbing her heart out. "Liv? What... what happened?"
His heart nearly jumped out of his body in fear that it had happened again.
"I killed him." She sobbed, a hand then covering her mouth to muzzle the pathetic sounds that followed. Her other hand rested over her heart, as if she begged for the ability to rip it out, to rip out the pain it was causing her.
Tommy fought the urge to nod his head. Because, yes, Olivia had murdered someone and who was he to deny the truth?
"Johnny." She whispered, her eyebrows had a crease in them from how hard she'd been crying, "I killed Johnny."
"C'm'here, Liv. Get inside." He ushered her in, his hands not touching her back despite the need he felt to comfort his sister with the hands that had always loved her.
The hands that had always been cold, but felt warm to her. The hands that held her whole world. The hands that held hers perfectly.
She needed those more than anything.
Olivia had managed to guide herself to sit on the bottom step of the stairs. "Johny." She whispered again.
Tommy crouched down in-front of her, watching her hands form fists and rub into her eyes. "No, c'mon, Livvie. Don't do that, don't hurt yourself."
His cold, calloused hands pulled her soft, warm hands away from her face and held them in his own. Tommy's thumb slowly rubbing patterns across her skin.
Bloodied hands, in bloodied hands.
The only thing Olivia had ever been missing to be the perfect miniature Tommy was blood that stained her hands. And now she had that.
"But, I killed Eleanora's Uncle." She cried.
"I know." Tommy whispered, "I know you did, Olivia."
She didn't question how he knew. She was glad she didn't.
"And you did what you had to." It was something she'd heard so many times. And there had been something that stopped her from believing it so many times.
But, not this time.
Olivia hadn't known who she'd murdered for 9 days, and that had felt like so long to her. The days felt eternally long, like they'd been never ending. But, now she knew. Now she knew who she'd killed because had to.
It had been Olivia Shelby or Johnny Faye.
He lost. She won.
"It was him or you that night, Livvie. It was a fight for survival, and you came out on top."
She won. She was living. And the past few days she'd been living like she'd lost.
Olivia Shelby was on time that Johnny Faye had tried to steal from her. Everyday was a day she could've lost if she'd given up in that alley, given up and let Johnny win.
"You did exactly what any other member of this family would've." Tommy told her, "You were scared, like any of us would've been. And you feared for your life, because you didn't want to die and he wanted to kill you."
A lot of people wanted to kill the Shelbys.
"You survived, Livvie." Tommy let go of her hands, and cradled her face in his palms. "My Livvie. She's here, not that Johnny."
"And 'M glad, so glad, it was you." His bottom lip trembled.
Olivia's eyes glossed over again, "Is it gonna get better?" I want it to get better.
"Yeah, Livvie," Tommy said, nodding his head with his own glossy eyes, "It's gonna get better, ey? We're gonna make it get better."
She nodded her head.
She believed Tommy.
In Tommy's hands she'd felt the safest she'd felt in a long time. Jack had been fun, he'd been a fun person to spend two hours of her day with but he wasn't Tommy.
He wasn't her brother, who she believed anything that fell from his lips.
Olivia believed her brother, because although her and Jack were alike, her and Tommy were essentially the same person.
And Olivia needed her Tommy more than she needed anyone else.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
i'm not too sure how i feel about this one, i gave you happy liv and then took her away from you again LOL!
it does actually get better this time because next chapter is tom and livvie bonding day! how exciting (it's actual cute moments and them sharing secrets like UGH! how cute)