Chapter Twenty
Michael Gray
"Will you tell me what's wrong?"
If she had to describe him to save her life, there would be no doubt, she would die.
Lottie could confidently say she could not remember anything from the night before except a lot of drinking and then waking up in a stranger's bed. Lottie never had one-night-stands. Never. It was not something she did. Sure, she had many flings, but it was never just for one night. As soon as she woke, she slipped out of the room and onto the streets. She didn't stay long enough to even glimpse at the man who lay next to her on the bed.
The dark streets were poorly illuminated by the lamps which cast long, distorted shadows. But Lottie wasn't afraid of anything in Birmingham as no one dared mess with her as they'd have to face the wrath of the Blinders and then her own which would be far worse - partly because no one really knew what she was capable of; as the wise saying went: always be wary of the quiet ones. Especially when they had such a fucking awful hangover - or in this case still very drunk and wouldn't hold back.
Lottie walked across the cobbled streets, wrapping her trench coat tighter around her. She didn't want to go home as Maxim would see her drunk - if he was even there. Nevertheless, she did not want to risk it. Instead, she was heading to the Shelby's. Polly always allowed her to stay the night, sleeping on the sofa whenever she needed.
As she neared the house, a dark silhouette was sitting at the door. Furrowing her brows, confused, she slowed down her walk as she got closer. The sound of her footsteps made the person stand up. She could tell it was a boy - well, a young man - and he looked nervous. "Who are you?" Lottie demanded, in no mood to deal with a stranger, wanting only to collapse and sleep through her hangover.
"I... I was told to come here," the boy replied.
"By who?"
He looked down at his hat. "I was told my mother lived here."
Lottie's breath was snatched from her chest. Polly's son - Michael. He was home - he had come. "Oh," she murmured. "I guess you should come in, then." She stepped towards the door and unlocked it, pushing it open for him to go through.
Nodding his head, he entered and she followed. Lottie stepped past him and made her way through to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, desperately in need of rehydration. "I'm Lottie," she introduced, holding out her hand when she had re-emerged.
Shaking it, he replied, "Michael."
"Did you want a drink?" She asked, feeling awkward, unsure what to do.
"No, it's, uh, fine," he mumbled.
"Okay..." Lottie said to herself. "Did you want to sit in the living room?" She asked, already walking into the room. She looked around the room, trying to think of a conversation, but Michael snapped her out of her thoughts.
"What's she like?" He asked. "My mother. What's she like?"
Lottie smiled warmly at him and sat down on the sofa, indicating to the one opposite for him to sit on. He did. "She's incredible," she said, referring to his question. "She's been like a mother to me since my own died."
"I'm sorry," he said.
Lottie tilted her head to the side, amused. Her eyes slightly narrowed as if she were analysing him and peering into his head. Her bright blue eyes always had a knowing look about them, as if she could see into anyone's thoughts - anyone's soul. Now indoors with the lights on, she could see him properly. He had a nice face, it was soft but she could tell there was an inner determination. He wore simple brown clothing that reminded her of the countryside, contrasting with the darkness of the city. He had nice eyes, too, she thought to herself. Clearing her throat, she then stopped and took another sip of her water. "She never stopped loving you," she said softly. "She never stopped trying to find you."
Michael smiled. "I'm only sorry it took her so long."
"She'll be happy to hear that."
***
The sound of the door slamming woke Lottie from where she slept on the sofa. Her neck ached painfully from the awkward angle she had found herself in; her legs were underneath her and had become numb, her arm was twisted somehow, and her head was resting on something and so it now ached painfully when she straightened herself. The bright morning light pierced her eyes and her head thumped painfully. Groaning, she rubbed her eyes and sat up.
"I don't mind you sleeping here, but not your men," someone said, far too loudly for Lottie's liking.
Forcing her eyes open, she saw that it was Polly, and then when the woman's words sank in, she sat up straight - which she regretted instantly. The urge to throw up became very strong and so after a few moments of taking some deep breaths to control herself, she looked to her side. She saw that she had fallen asleep next to Michael, his head resting on her shoulder. "Oh... no, no!" She whispered. As carefully as she could to not wake him, she stood up and rushed after Polly, who was now in the kitchen. "No, no, no, you've got it all wrong," she said, her voice quiet.
"Oh, really?" Polly asked, hand on hip.
"Yes!" Lottie exclaimed. "He's not just some man - he... he's Michael. He's your son."
Polly gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, her grey eyes staring widely at the girl. "You slept with my son!"
"No!" Lottie rushed. "No! I just let him in, we talked and we must have fallen asleep." She paused, allowing her words to sink in. Polly instantly relaxed, but then began to bite her dry lip. "What is it?" Lottie asked. "Aren't you happy? Your son is here."
"Of course I am," said Polly. "It's just... what if I'm not good enough? What if he prefers his other mother to me?"
"He won't," she reassured. "He already knows how much you love him. And he's ready to love you, too. Do you want me to wake him up?"
Polly nodded, her heart beating frantically - a mixture of anxiety, love and excitement. She watched as Lottie walked back to the sitting room and crouching down before where Michael slept. With a soft shake of his shoulder, his eyes fluttered open. Grunting slightly as he sat up, Polly watched with eager eyes as Lottie murmured to him. His eyes suddenly widened and looked over in Polly's direction. Gasping quietly to herself, Polly tried to gain her courage as she walked towards Michael. Her son.
Lottie stood to the side as Michael got up from the sofa; she smiled a small, but happy smile as she looked between them. She then said quietly, "I'll leave you two to it." She grabbed her shoes and walked over to the door, looking back over her shoulder as she smiled, happy for the reunion.
The outside air was fresh and chilled her to the bones, but Lottie only smiled. Her head was still spinning slightly, but she began walking home. Tightening her coat around her shoulders to protect herself from the chill, she finally made it to her apartment. She had barely shut the door after her when she felt someone's hands on her shoulders.
"Where the bloody hell were you?" Someone exclaimed.
Lottie turned around jumping in surprise. "What the-" she began. When the world stopped moving around her, she realised the person in front of her was Ada, her large brown eyes wide in worry. Lottie shook her head slightly, trying to think. "I was - I was at Polly's," she mumbled. "Wait a second. Why are you here?"
Ada bit her lip. "I, um, I came here cause I was looking for you."
Lottie nodded slowly but was nowhere near convinced. "Right," she muttered. She looked towards her room and said, "I'm just going to go change. You can, um..." She shook her head and started walking. "I'll see you later, Ada."
The rest of the day didn't exist in Lottie's mind. As in - she slept until the morning sun of the next day spread through her room, causing her to cringe away from the light when it covered her closed eyelids.
After checking the time and seeing it was nine o'clock, she forced herself to sit up on her bed. Her body ached from lack of movement and exhaustion, but her hangover was certainly gone which was a definite improvement. Allowing herself to take her time, she changed into her usual blue dress - a dress too clean for the streets of Birmingham; a detail that made her love her outfit even more. She then brushed her auburn hair and curled it delicately and put on some bright red lipstick. Once happy with her appearance, she left her room and made her way to the kitchen to make herself a morning coffee. On the side, she saw a note in Maxim's neat scribe: 'At Garrison for the interviews'.
Lottie's mind clicked as she remembered about the interviews; they were so the police met their figures with their arrests whilst not arresting anyone of significance. Looking down at the note, she bit the inside of her mouth. She had promised Tommy she'd go to it, but that was before she'd messed everything up.
No doubt they'd all know about her disappearance at the Garrison's opening and be consequently bullied for it.
And John would be there.
Was she ready to see him again? She most definitely was not. But she had promised... She couldn't hide away forever. And anyway, she wasn't one to hide... for long, anyway. Sighing, she quickly downed her coffee, giving her a much needed buzz to keep her going, and then left for the Garrison.
When she entered, she saw a collection of young men - boys, really, hovering nervously around the tables before she headed towards the corner room. She smiled sweetly at Finn who stood by the door. Inside the room were Tommy, Arthur, Maxim... and John. Ignoring the stabbing pain in her chest, she kept a cool expression and moved to sit down next to her cousin. "Found anyone suitable yet?" She asked, referring to their task.
Tommy shook his head. "Not yet," he replied simply, putting his cigarette to his lips.
Arthur chuckled as he drank from his glass. "You enjoyed the other night?"
"It was pleasant enough," replied Lottie vaguely, avoiding his eyes, feeling embarrassed to be speaking of it in front her cousin and John. Of course, it would be Arthur to start it off.
Maxim shook his head as if he was trying to forget the conversation even as Arthur continued.
"Heard you went off with one of the workers," said Arthur.
Lottie sat forward and looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Whether or not I did, it is no concern of yours."
"You realise we gotta teach him a lesson now," he chuckled.
"Get over yourself, Arthur," she muttered, leaning back in her chair, her hand resting on her temple where a headache was forming.
"I only want to protect you, Lottie," he explained, cheerfully.
"I don't need your protection," she snapped. "I can do what I like and I don't need you or anyone to look out for me. Okay?"
Arthur snickered. "Was he not any good, then?"
John practically choked on his drink. "Tommy - let's, um, bring the next one in, yeah?"
Maxim nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, Tom, next one."
"Finn," Tommy called, only too happy to agree with the others. Finn entered and Tommy instructed him to get the next one. When the youngest Shelby had gone, Tommy's eyes landed thoughtfully on Lottie. Her stressed expression worried him - that and the fact she was determined to continue to only look at the door and nowhere else. He'd talk to her afterwards, he decided. Ada clearly hadn't had an opportunity.
Despite being very aware of John's eyes on her, she kept her blue ones focused on the door as it opened, analysing the fumbling fool who entered. He wore a bowler hat on his head and a bow tie around his neck. Her eyes flickered to his waist where she briefly saw a wooden gun hanging on his belt - a piece from a costume. Nervously, the boy took off his hat and stood in front of them, shifting his weight between his feet.
"Alright, then," said Arthur as Lottie grabbed a cigarette from her coat pocket. Maxim automatically grabbed his lighter and lit it for her. She smiled in thanks.
"Name?" Questioned John.
"The Digbeth Kid," said the boy, his voice quiet.
Lottie raised her eyebrows as John scoffed. Arthur raised his eyes from his newspaper. "The Dig-" he began. "What are ya? A boxer?"
The boy fumbled with his hat in his hands. "Digbeth Kid like Billy the Kid," he stammered.
John chuckled quietly.
Maxim cleared his throat and leant forward on the table, his hands together. "Spend a lot of time at the movies?" He asked conversationally.
He nodded eagerly at him causing Lottie to get the impression of a dog or perhaps a very young child wanting approval.
"Cowboy pictures? Tom Mix, yeah?"
The boy smiled and reached to his belt. Instantly Arthur and John jumped into action, grabbing their guns. Lottie rolled her eyes and stood up. "Relax," she said to them. She walked towards the boy who suddenly seemed very intimidated by her - probably the first time a girl had stood this close to him, she thought. "May I?" She asked.
Nervously he nodded.
She took the gun from his belt. "Wooden, see?" She said, showing the others.
Tommy stood. "Let's have a look then," he said.
She handed it over to him and he pointed it at his brothers, chuckling. "Bang. Bang." Arthur pretended to fire back and John feigned his death. Lottie smiled and sat back down. "Very nice," said Tommy, handing it back. "Where'd you get the gun belt?"
"Me sister made it out of an old blacksmith's apron," he said, his confidence rising as he tucked his 'gun' away. "Me mum did most of the stitching. She's not me real mum, but..."
"But she does what mother's do," Tommy finished. "So she made you a gun belt."
Arthur picked up his paper once more. "Alright, mother's boy, there's the door. On you go," he dismissed. "We're looking-"
Tommy cut him off with the raise of his hand, not looking away from the boy. "Have you ever been arrested?" He asked.
"Yeah," the boy said instantly.
"Yeah?" He questioned.
He bit his lip, his eyes landing on Lottie as she put her cigarette to her lips before dropping them. "No," he amended.
"Good," nodded Tommy. "You're the first bloke in here today with no criminal record. Arthur, we can stand him up. Do you know what that means?" He asked the boy.
He shook his head.
"The new Home Secretary wants something done about illegal gambling," he began.
"Damn right," said John slamming his hand on the table.
"About bloody time," said Arthur.
"So we help our coppers make their quote of convictions by having men stood up to be arrested," he continued. "First offence, you'll get a week inside. We'll give you five quid for your trouble. How's that sound, cowboy?"
A giddy smile grew on the boy's lips as he nodded eagerly. "Yeah," he beamed.
"Good," nodded Tommy. "Write your address down for Finn on your way out."
"I can't write," he mumbled.
John smiled. "That's alright, Finn can't read."
"Don't worry," said Arthur.
Maxim cleared his throat. "Tell him your address," he said. "We'll send someone around."
John raised his hand to point his finger at the boy. "If," he began, "the Sheriff don't run you out of town first."
The boy chuckled nervously as he left.
"Good man," said Tommy as he exited, before looking at his paper.
Arthur sighed. "Oh, I don't know, Tom," he muttered. "Kids these days..."
"They didn't fight," replied Tommy simply. "So they're different. They stay kids." He looked over his paper once more, his eyes discreetly flickering to Lottie as she puffed out some smoke, staring out the window, then slapped it down on the table. "Alright, boys, off you go," announced Tommy, clearing his throat. "We're done for the day."
They nodded and stood from where they were still sitting. As Arthur and John walked passed, John looked at Lottie as if he wanted to say something but she quickly looked away. Lowering his head, he exited the room, Arthur oblivious. He laughed and put his hand on her shoulder. "Don't take what I said to heart," he said, referring to their conversation earlier. "I was just teasing. But if he does hurt you-"
Lottie smiled and shook her head. "He's not going to hurt me," she cut off. Because I have no idea who he is, she added mentally. "I'm not going to see him again, so that's the end of that."
"So, he was bad then," he smiled.
"Oh, fuck off, Arthur," she said rolling her eyes.
"Meet you at the house," said Tommy.
Arthur nodded as he left, Maxim and her just behind. Maxim shook his head and said, "I'm going to pretend I never heard anything," he muttered.
"You do that, Maxim," said Lottie.
Just as they were about to leave, Tommy called out, "Lottie, would you mind staying? There's something I want to talk to you about."
Shit. "Sure," she said, nerves growing in her stomach.
"I'll see you later," said Maxim shutting the door after himself.
Lottie sat back down and stared at Tommy, who stared back. They said nothing, but the silence was growing unbearable. She cleared her throat. "What is it, Tommy?" She asked.
He put out his cigarette and looked calmly at her. Leaning forward, he said, "Will you tell me what's wrong?"
An amused smile grew on her face. "'What's wrong'?" She repeated. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong."
"So, nothing made you avoid the house, even on Polly's birthday?"
"I did go to see her," she mumbled, but Tommy continued.
"And nothing made you drink the most you have done in a long time at the opening?"
She sighed and lowered her head. "Tommy, it's nothing."
His hand appeared on her own. It was soft and it shocked her. She looked up at his bright blue eyes. "Lottie," he said calmly, "it's something."
"It's nothing you can fix," she said honestly in a resigned voice, sadness in her eyes.
A/n:
poor lottie...
i wanted tommy and lottie to have a scene together for a while now and i know it's not a big scene but i hope you can see that even though its short, it's deep and has a lot of meaning for them
on a happier note -
Michael's finally here! I love Michael - one of my favourite characters in the show. Lottie is the first one he meets so be prepared, he's going to go to her if he is unsure about anything - whoop whoop. she was able to hide her hangover around Michael cause good first impressions and all that stuff. Anyways - hope you enjoyed it and please do comment your thoughts - I love the feedback - and do vote and follow, too :))))
published :: 11/07/2019