Chapter Fifteen
Intuition
"You fell for Tommy for real, didn't you?"
Lottie was over the moon. She joined the men who were making their way to the Garrison. She wasn't nervous now, either, as she had made up with Grace.
"All right lads, listen up!" Tommy called out to the other Blinders once they had all piled inside. "You can have a pint and a chaser - no more. On the house." He then went behind the counter to help Grace pour all the drinks. Lottie watched them with bemused eyes, reading them so easily. The small glances, the hidden smiles. They were in love. And it was as clear as day.
Arthur put his arm around Lottie's shoulder as he laughed at his own joke. Unable to help herself, she joined in, too. But when Grace walked into the walk-in cupboard, Lottie's smile faded, as did Tommy's. Arthur noticed, too. "Go on, Tommy," he said. "Go out the back and give her a good seeing to before we go." But he suddenly groaned in pain due to Lottie elbowing his harshly in in the ribs. The two made eye contact. Lottie nodded and raised her eyebrows seriously, urging him to follow, but for different reasons than Arthur. Clenching his jaw, he followed and disappeared from sight.
She turned to Arthur. "You're unbelievable," she muttered, smirking, taking a sip from her drink.
"Nah," he denied.
She scoffed, shaking her head. Lottie did wonder what they were discussing, but she soon was distracted again by Arthur and his appalling jokes. John downed his drink and called out, "Tommy, we need more mild!"
Tommy called back a muffled reply. "Just help yourselves!"
The doors suddenly opened and Jeremiah entered, his eyes wide and worried. Lottie, Arthur and John stood up immediately. "What is it?" She asked.
He looked at the three of them. "I just heard there's two vans driving up the Stratford Road," he began. "An old corporal of mine said he recognised some of the men. He says it's the Kimber boys and they're heading this way."
"We need to tell Tommy," said John, seriously.
"In here," said Arthur, leading him round the back of the counter.
Arthur opened the door and the two of them entered. Lottie and John looked at each other. "Who tipped them off?" She wondered in a lowered voice.
"No one could have," said John. "Only Tommy knew about it - the rest of us found out only today. That's not enough time to warn Kimber."
"You're right," she agreed. "And Tommy wouldn't jeopardise his own scheme. Someone else must have found out."
"But who?" Questioned John.
Before Lottie could try and think of possibilities, the men walked out of the walk-in cupboard. "We need to go," said Tommy to Lottie.
She breifly rested a hand on John's arm before she left in a way of saying goodbye.
They nodded and followed Tommy from the pub back to the Shelby's. Tommy was first in. "Ada, wake up," he demanded as soon as he saw her sleeping on the armchair, Karl in his basket beside her. "You and the baby, get to the Bull Ring, where there's lots of people."
Polly walked in. "What's going on?" She asked.
Lottie turned to her. "We've been fucking betrayed," she answered. "Just when I thought things were going right."
"How?" She questioned.
"Somebody let slip," muttered Tommy, rubbing his face with his hands. "Kimber's men are on their way here."
Polly's eyes widened in panic as Ada picked up Karl in her arms. "But you can handle them, Tommy?"
"It's just us," he said. "All the Lees are all on their way to the Worchester, we're out numbered." He suddenly slammed his hands down onto the table. "Fuck!"
"What I don't understand is who else knew today was the day you were moving on Kimber," said Lottie, crossing her arms. She turned to him. "You said you kept it a secret. Who else did you tell?"
Tommy breathed heavily as realisation washed over him. Seeing his expression, Lottie understood. "Oh..." She whispered, her heart breaking for him.
Polly understood, too. "There's only one thing that could blind a mind as smart as you, Tommy. Love." Tommy's lack of response was confirmation enough. "It was that barmaid. I'll deal with Grace."
"Me, too," added Lottie, clenching her jaw, her eyes darkening.
"No," whispered Tommy. "You'll kill her."
Lottie shook her head, but the serious expression on her face seemed to contradict her notion. "If you set eyes on her again, you just might."
***
Polly and Lottie walked side by side down to the Garrison. Both were determined and nothing could faze them now. There was this power... this strength... an anger that radiated off them so people around them made an extra effort to get out of their way as they walked.
When they entered the pub, it was deserted with only Grace left. She was pulling on her coat when they walked into the room. Polly stopped walking and stood at a distance from the barmaid, Lottie walking round the edges of the room, circling the barmaid as if she was prey and Lottie was hunting her. Her heels clicked against the wooden floor in a mocking sort of way.
"Going for good?" Polly asked.
"I heard there was trouble," replied Grace.
Polly smiled. "Instinct is a funny thing. See, normally I can tell about a person."
"You had us fooled," said Lottie, her voice even and controlled, but her blue eyes shined with an inner ruthlessness that made Grace shiver. "I think you'll remember a certain promise I made not that long ago."
Grace stared at her fearfully, but tried to keep up her confidence. "Look, the fighting is about to begin. We should get out of here."
"We know who you are," continued Polly. She lifted her hand and pulled out the needle from her hair. It was long and sharp and was very deadly. Lottie had seen it work. "Tommy knows as well."
She faltered, looking down.
"Turns out that copper as good as told him this morning."
"But we wanted to hear it from your lips," said Lottie. Her voice was quieter than Polly's, still controlled. She had stopped moving, standing in front of the door and stood staring at her. Part of her still hoping that they were wrong about her, but it was outweighed by her growing anger.
Grace steadily pulled out a gun from her clutch and pointed it at Polly. "I am an agent of the crown," said Grace. "I have the power to arrest and the right to use force. So, please, step out of my way."
Lottie lifted her own gun at Grace's head. Grace turned to face her. "We've faced worse things than you," she said darkly.
Polly looked at Lottie warningly, making sure that she wouldn't actually fire the gun. "Like I say, instinct is a funny thing."
Lottie circled further around the barmaid so she was standing next to Polly, her eyes narrow, analysing her. "You fell for Tommy for real, didn't you? I could see it in your eyes."
Her eyes filled with tears and her hands began to shake. "This gun is loaded."
"And so is that one," nodded Polly to the one Lottie was holding. "We're not afraid of you. We just feel sorry for you. Slip of a thing. Thought you'd come in here and stitch us all up. I mean, we've had some coppers narks in here before, but you? You're the queen of them all. So, who are you?" Her eyes went down Grace. "Rich girl, I'd guess. Unionist? An Ulster Volunteer?"
Grace began to lower her gun.
Lottie titled her head to the side, her eyes widening slightly as if she was staring into Grace's soul. "What did you think? Did you think, Fenians, communists, low people, that we're all the same? Did you think that we were scum?" She sighed, shaking her head ruefully. "But then you met Tommy."
Grace put down her gun and pulled up her sleeves. "I'd fight you with my fists and show you how a rich girl fights. I'm from a tough family, too."
Lottie immediately lowered her gun and stepped towards her with such as dark, daring, terrifying look that it made Grace take a step back. "I really wouldn't do that if I were you," she growled. "You have no idea what tough is. And you really don't want to find out." She paused, a malicious smile forming on her lips. "You remember that promise I made to you not that long ago. You're lucky to be alive and talking, but if you keep going like this, you won't be for much longer."
Polly cleared her throat, intervening, but still had a proud look on her face. "No," she said. "We women have more sense, but I wouldn't test Lottie much more. When she snaps, you better hope it's not aimed at you. Why don't you pour us all a drink?" Polly then sat at the nearest table, pulling out another chair for Lottie. She joined her, putting her gun on the table in sight to act as a constant threat. Grace went behind the bar and took out a whiskey and three glasses and Polly took out her cigarettes. "So, was she right?" She asked. "Did you fall for Tommy?"
Grace sat as she finished pouring the drinks, looked down at her own before whispering, "Yes."
"Then I pity you," she replied simply.
"I think he'll try to kill me."
"He's too soft," denied Lottie, staring intently.
Grace raised her eyebrows. "Soft?" She questioned.
"Soft like you," she nodded, taking a sip from her glass. "You saved his life the night the coppers came."
"That's why we're drinking and not fighting," pointed out Polly. "We owe you."
They, all three, took a sip from their glasses before Grace quietly asked, "What was he like - before France?"
"He laughed, a lot," replied Polly.
"He wanted to work with horses," added Lottie.
Grace smiled. "He won medals."
"Threw them in the cut," said Polly. "Not a single man came back the same. You know, after all this is over, he might forgive you. He might take you in. You can never tell with men. They go for whoever their dicks point at and there's no changing their minds. But I should tell you something." She paused. Her eyes unblinking. "I will never forgive you. Or accept you. Or take you in. And it's me who runs business of the heart in this family. And as far as I'm concerned, you're a snitch from the Parish. And if you're not gone from this city by tomorrow, I'll kill you myself. Now go."
Grace felt as if she had just been scolded by a teacher. She stood from her chair, picked up her gun and left the room. But before she left, she stopped and turned. "Maybe what really upsets you, is the thought that one day you might lose him."
Lottie looked down and stood, following Grace who had just left. Polly grabbed her gun. "I'm not going to shoot her," she argued.
"Even still," said Polly.
Sighing, Lottie left and caught up with Grace who was walking away. She stood in front of her. "I don't think I ever trusted you, but I have to say, this time, I'm disappointed to have been proved right."
Grace looked down, avoiding her eyes.
"I thought you were better than this," she added, disappointed. She then sighed heavily. "Part of me wants you dead in a ditch somewhere... but another part... well, you love Tommy. There's just one thing before you go," she said.
Grace frowned curious. She didn't get a time to react as Lottie suddenly lifted her hand and her fist collided with Grace's jaw. Grace stumbled back, tears in her eyes from the shock and pain, "That's for betraying my family," said Lottie darkly. She lifted her fist again and punched harder than before, her first colliding with Grace's temple, causing her to fall onto the dirty ground. "And that's," she spat, "for Freddie."
Grace scrambled to her feet and practically ran away this time, her hand clutching her jaw, Lottie instantly understood why Polly had taken her gun. Lottie smiled ruefully.
Lottie remained standing just a distance from the Garrison, watching her fade into the distance, quite glad that Polly had her gun as she might have done more than just punch Grace. The men started to arrive soon after that, huddling and handing out their guns. Lottie stood next to Arthur when John and Tommy arrived, John walking to stand on her other side.
"All right, men," said Tommy, standing up on the slope to the factory. "You were mostly in the war so you know that battle plans always change and get fucked up. Well, here it is. Things have changed. We fight from here. Today. Alone. Now, they're gonna come for the pub. They're gonna try and break us up for good. And we'll have no help from the law today." He then pointed at the pub behind him. "That pub there is called the Garrison! Well, now it really is one. And it belongs to us, right?"
"Right!" Exclaimed the men.
"How many are there?" Arthur called out.
"Jeremiah says two Riley vans," replied Tommy. "So, I reckon we're outnumbered three to one."
"Ah, fuck," swore Arthur.
"But it's us boys. It's us. The Small Heath Rifles. We never lost a fight yet, did we?"
"No!" They exclaimed.
He nodded. "All right. Jeremiah. I know you vowed to God you'd never pick up a weapon again. But can you ask him from me if you can help us today?"
Jeremiah saluted. "God says he don't deal with Small Heath, sir."
John smiled at Lottie, who smiled back, at his response.
"Good man. Arthur, Scud-boat. You'll take the flanks. Just like at St. Marie."
"Sure," they agreed.
"Curly," said Tommy. "When a Shelby man dies here today, you bury us side by side. All right. We have about ten minutes. Make your peace with whoever."
The men began to huddle again as Tommy walked towards the Garrison. John turned to Lottie. "You shouldn't be here," he said.
"I know," she nodded. "I'm not staying. I just was with Polly in the Garrison sorting something out. I just wanted to wish you all luck."
"Thanks," he smiled weakly.
"Now, I know it's been off between us since... well, you know since, but I just want you to know that I don't resent you for what happened and I'm genuinely happy for you and Esme - you're already making each other happy. I can see it in your eyes."
John nodded, but his eyes teared up slightly, causing him to bow his head.
"You deserve her," she continued. "Now, make it out alive and be happy."
When he nodded, sniffing his nose, she took his face in her hands and kissed his cheek, her lips hovering by his skin for a painful moment, not wanting to pull away. But she did. She saw the hurt and love in John's eyes as she stepped back, and all she could do is smile weakly - hopefully. She then turned to Arthur who was standing a few people away. "You survive this, okay?" She said sternly, holding onto his shoulders. "I can't lose anyone else."
"Yes, ma'am," he smirked.
She raised an eyebrow at him and he's cocky grin faded into a sincere smile. "I promise," he vowed.
Happy with his response, she took his face in her hands, as she had done with John, and kissed his cheek. "Good luck," she wished.
She then walked over to where Tommy was standing inside the Garrison. "Lottie, you shouldn't be here when they arrive," said Tommy.
"For once, I'm not going to argue with you," she replied. "But I want you to do one thing for me."
He looked at her warily. "And what's that?"
"Kill that son of a bitch," Lottie said darkly.
He nodded. "I will."
Lottie went onto her tip-toes and kissed his cheek. When she lowered back down she whispered, "Thank you."
A/n:
So... I changed Lottie's faceclaim to Alexandra Dowling - if any of you don't agree then you can keep on imagining Jemima West or whoever you imagine her as. I've also made some brief edits in the previous chapters so if you wanted to get up to date (sorry for the inconvenience but... I felt that Lottie needed a bit of character development :))) Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and do vote, comment and follow :)))
published :: 22/10/2018