Chapter Twenty-Four
May
"I want you to stay away from my son"
The liquid was cool in her throat as Lottie emptied her small glass. She'd spent all the early morning with her horse and now she was readying herself for another day at work - and to do that, she needed a drink. Or a few.
Just as she ordered her second glass, she heard a voice she recognised from the other end of the bar. Turning her head, she saw the young man of Michael Gray. Her red lips quirked into a smile. "Michael," she said.
He looked over at her, his face relaxing when he saw her. "Lottie," he replied. "What are you doing here?"
She lifted her now full glass. "A drink. It's been a long day."
"It's only eight o'clock."
"Exactly," she smirked. When he chuckled, she said with a smile, "Let's go through here." Lottie picked up her drink from the bar and started walking towards the back room and looked behind. "Come on."
Michael followed her, taking his drink, too. Shutting the door behind them, Lottie then sat at one of the round tables and took out her cigarette box. "Want one?" She asked. She smirked when he hesitated. "Go on. You know you want to." When he smiled, she teased, "Be tempted, Mickey."
"Mickey?" He repeated a gleam in his grey eyes.
Lottie nodded. "It's the new name I've just given you." She lifted a cigarette between them, leaning in closer to him. "Are you tempted?" She could see him leaning in closer so that the only thing between their faces was the cigarette she was holding.
"Yes," he murmured. He took the cigarette out of her hand and the two leaned backward simultaneously, smiling. With her lighter, she lit his and then her own, him spluttering as he breathed in the smoke.
She laughed at him. "You'll get used to it, don't worry. If you want to."
"I want to," he replied, lifting it to his lips again.
She smiled as she watched him. "What were you doing in the Garrison by yourself?"
"I want to get to know the area better," he said simply.
"You mean to stay?" she asked curiously.
Michael nodded. "That's what I want." He took out the morning's paper and put it in front of her. He pointed to an advertisement. "Tommy's looking for a clerk-"
"And you want to apply," she finished, following his train of thought.
"I do. He's had six clerks in six months," he began. "They leave once they know of the true dealings, and, well, I already know. I'm good with numbers, I can be trusted."
Lottie smiled admiringly at him; the determination in his grey eyes glinted like steel. "I know you can."
His lips quirked into a smile. "You think I should apply?"
"Honestly?" She questioned, breathing out a puff of smoke, leaning back in her chair.
He nodded.
She smiled. "I think there'd be no better candidate."
He sighed in relief. "I'm going to go to his office this afternoon."
Seeing her cigarette getting near its end, she put it on the tray in the centre of the table. She stared only at the dying embers, avoiding looking at him as she said, "So if you mean to stay, does that mean you won't be going home... at all?"
Michael shook his head. "I don't ever want to go home. This feels more like home than home ever did."
She looked up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"
"I never felt like I belonged. I love my Mother, but that village... that cottage... I would rather see it as rubble then ever step foot back there."
She chuckled dryly. "I know the feeling," she murmured. She found herself opening her mouth to explain herself further, but then she stopped herself. She'd never been so close to telling anyone about that topic in years. Something about him seemed to make her lower her guard - too much. There were things people couldn't know about - things that would make people hate her. She cleared her throat and smiled at him, putting her cigarette to her red lips, wondering what it was that made her want to reveal every inch of her blackened soul to him.
The clock behind them chimed loudly, catching Lottie out of her reverie.
Clearing her throat once again, she put out her cigarette on the dish between them. "I've got to go." Lottie stood from the chair swiftly and tightened her coat around her shoulders. She turned and looked back to Michael, a soft smile on her lips. "Good luck with the job."
His mouth perked upwards and nodded, puffing out a mouthful of smoke.
With that, she left. Her heels echoed on the cobbled street as she made her way quickly to the betting room, unlocking the door as she let herself in. Esme was already there, tidying papers and books. "When did you get here?" Lottie asked as she hung up her coat on the wall.
"Half an hour ago," she replied. "Kids were driving rings 'round me head."
Lottie smiled warmly. "I feel it's been centuries since I've seen them."
Esme stopped busying herself and turned to the petite woman. "John's four - from his first wife," she added, "they miss you. They keep asking when you'll visit. You haven't spent much time with my son, apart from at the birth."
"I should fix that," Lottie murmured. She had avoided not only John and Esme but his four children - all of whom she'd become an aunt figure to. She'd done it since Esme and John's son's birth - it reignited all the emotions and feelings she's held in for so long. "How are they all now?" She asked. "Have they grown much?"
"Almost as tall as me," Esme said with a smile.
"I bet they are," Lottie chuckled.
Just then, there was a banging on the door and Lottie couldn't help but feel grateful for it.
"We're not open for winnings yet," called out Esme as she and Lottie tidied the books in the empty betting room.
A voice responded. "I'm here to see Thomas Shelby."
Lottie stood a little straighter. "I recognise that voice," she said. Putting down the stack of papers she'd been sorting, she made her way towards the door, Esme, curious, behind her. A tall dark-haired woman stood in front of her car on the other side of the door. Her white fur coat stood out against all the grey surrounding them. Lottie plastered her enticing fake smile on her red lips. "I recognise you from the auction," she stated.
"I have an appointment," said the woman.
Lottie titled her head slightly, her eyes scanning her, before stepping to the side. "Come in," she invited.
The woman stepped inside, pulling off her gloves. Esme watched her every move, like an eagle stalking its prey, but the woman paid no mind. She stepped into the centre of the betting room, her eyes taking in her surroundings. Esme hurried in front of her before she walked too far in, her arms tightly crossed over her chest. Lottie shut the door to the street silently.
The woman held out her hand to Esme. "May Carleton," she introduced.
"Mr Shelby has his proper meetings in his other office," Esme said stiffly.
Lottie cleared her throat and took May's hand. "Lottie Thorne," she smiled. "I assume you're here about the horse?" Noticing May's confused glance, she continued. "You were so desperate to have him for yourself, I understand that to be the sole reason for your visit."
"Yes," she responded slowly. "Mr Shelby gave me this address."
"He gave you this address?" Esme repeated harshly.
"He said it was a gambling den," replied May cooly, not intimidated.
Lottie tried to hide her smirk. She put a calming hand on Esme's arm and said to the woman, "I expect he wanted to give you the tour, to show you around."
"Yes, I'd told him that I'd always wanted to see one since I'm always reading about them in the papers. Quite the big scandal in the Telegraph lately," she added. "Anyway, he, um, said I could come and have a look." May paused. "And now I feel a bit of an idiot because I'm early and he's late and I have no idea how to behave."
Esme raised her eyebrow. "In a gambling den?"
May nodded once. "I'll wait in the car."
"Nonsense," said Lottie. "If we open the door again, they'll all want to come in. That desk's empty, you can sit there and have some tea whilst you wait for Tommy to arrive. No doubt he won't be long." She led her over to the chair. "Sit," she said; her voice was polite but there was an order hidden behind the melodious voice.
May did as she was told.
Esme continued in sorting out the books, but her curiosity was still about her. "So, what are you?" She asked the woman.
"'What am I?'" She stammered, questioning.
"To Thomas," Esme explained.
Lottie pushed herself up to sit on one of the tables, lighting a cigarette.
"I'm going to train his racehorse," she said.
"The one you wanted from the auction," said Lottie.
May nodded. "Yes. For Epsom. You like horses?"
A genuine smile crossed Lottie's lips. "Love them."
"Me, too," she murmured in agreement.
The door swung open before it slammed heavily shut. The three women turned their heads in its direction and saw John entering, his tilted cap shadowing parts of his face. He didn't notice May or Lottie as he entered, only walking towards his wife. "There's a fucking great Riley parked out there and nobody's watching it," he announced loudly.
"John, this woman says she's training Thomas' horse," said Esme, looking over at May.
It was only then that John realised that it wasn't only himself and Esme in the room. He turned and stood intimidatingly close to the woman, his eyes slowly scanning her up and down, before stepping back and putting his hands on his hips. "He's told us a lot about you," he said.
"Don't know where he is, do you?" asked May, keeping her poise.
The faint sound of a door opening and shutting from the kitchen alerted them. With his hands in his coat pockets, Tommy emerged. He nodded once to each of them. "Sorry I'm late," he said cooly, clearing his throat as he came to a stop in the betting room. "There was a family matter." He turned to Esme and said, "Esme, keep it locked up for a minute."
Immediately, she nodded and began to walk to the door. "Yes, Thomas."
Lottie blew out a puff of smoke, her blue eyes looking between Tommy and May.
"I'll show you around," said Tommy to the woman.
Lottie hopped off the table, taking the hint, grabbing John's elbow when he didn't. They walked to the opposite end of the room towards his office. "I don't like her," said John.
She smirked. "She's less trouble than Grace," she noted. "More business than heart, May is."
"You know all about that," muttered John.
Lottie froze. Clenching her jaw she snuffed out her cigarette on his table next to the ash tray. She lifted her gaze, her blue eyes void of emotion but a hidden anger burned underneath. "I've got work to do," she said coldly, turning around and joining Esme on the other end of the betting room. Smiling tightly at the gypsy, Lottie turned to the paperwork and let herself focus soley on that.
***
"Lottie, we're late," called Maxim, shrugging on his coat.
She huffed loudly. "There's no point in telling me something I already know."
He chuckled and walked to her bedroom, standing in the doorway. "You almost ready?"
Lottie turned away from her mirror on her dressing table. Her auburn hair was styled elegantly, framing her sharp cheekbones. Her lips flashed red as she had just applied her makeup, but she wasn't even dressed, still in her sleep attire. "You go on without me, I'll catch up," she told her cousin.
"Polly wants us all there, preferably before it all starts."
Lottie arched her brow. "You know I won't be the last one." She stood up from her cushioned stool and untied her silk gown. "You go now, I won't be longer than half an hour."
"Alright," he nodded, placing his cap on his head. "See you in a bit."
Lottie waved goodbye and turned to her wardrobe, pulling out a pretty green dress that shimmered prettily in the light. After stepping into it, she slipped her arms into her trench coat. Checking her appearance one last time in the mirror, she left the apartment. Lottie stood on the street, considering. She wouldn't be too late - she had time checking on Arthur. Knowing him, it was likely he forgot about the whole meeting altogether.
She reached Arthur's home quickly enough. The door opened silently as Lottie pushed it. The room inside was dark apart from the dying embers in the fireplace, casting a warm glow on a figure sitting on the armchair opposite it, the curtains were drawn shut. Her heels clicked as she walked along the wooden surface towards him. He shuffled slightly as he turned to see her. "Lottie," said Arthur. "What you doing here?"
She smiled at him. "Such a nice way to greet a friend," she said sarcastically.
"Want a drink?" he asked sitting forward and reaching for the whiskey.
"Of course," she replied, "who would I be if I said no?"
He quickly poured her a drink and refilled his own and handed it to her as she sat down on the armchair next to him. She watched as he greedily downed his glass in one. She cleared her throat, seeing him like this caused a surge of worry in her heart. "There's something I wanted to speak to you about," she began.
"Yeah? What?" He asked, oblivious to her hesitance, too drunk to notice much.
Lottie stared down at her drink as she swirled it around slowly. "I'm worried about you..."
Arthur laughed. "Lottie-" he began.
"No, Arthur, listen to me," she said, cutting him off. He snorted, clearly drunk, as he tried to stop himself from laughing. "I just want you to be careful, even more so when you're in London. When you're there, don't get high every day, don't get drunk every day - you need to be on your top form. There are dangerous people there."
"We're the fucking peaky blinders! We're the dangerous ones!"
Lottie took his hand strongly, her nails slightly digging into his skin. "In London, we're nothing. Don't think you're invincible. You're not. London's a bad place full of bad people just like us but with more power and support, so don't turn your back on anyone. Don't trust anyone. Always be on your guard."
Arthur sighed and put his free hand on Lottie's, which was now white from being tense. "You don't have to worry. We've taken the club - we own it."
"Just promise me you'll be careful when you're there," she murmured, her blue eyes large.
Arthur smiled. "I promise." He leaned forward and took her face in his hands and kissed the top of her head. Lottie wrapped her arms around him.
"I can't lose you, okay?" She said. "Don't you dare make me lose you." After a moment they broke apart. "Now, come on. Drink some water and sober yourself up a bit, yeah? As ironic as this sounds, Polly won't want you drunk at the garrison."
Arthur chuckled but nodded. She helped him up and got him a glass of water as he grabbed his jacket and coat, his cheery - now tipsy - grating on her, causing them to laugh and joke as they made their way to the pub.
Sure enough, they weren't the last ones to arrive. Inside their small room sat John, Maxim, Esme, Finn, and Tommy. Lottie and Arthur greeted them happily as they joined them at the table. Instantly - and mostly because of Arthur's tipsiness - the table burst into happy laughter. Lottie offered the youngest Shelby some of her drink and when he tried to fight the cringe that was appearing on his face from the bitterness and harshness of the liquid, Lottie ruffled Finn's hair affectionately, pulling him in a side hug. He pushed away from her but was smiling as the others chuckled at his reaction. Lottie downed her glass in one. "And that's how it's done," she said as Esme cheered. She turned back to Finn. "This is a strong drink," she said. "Let's get you a different one."
John stood. "Well, Finn," he said, "You've got two choices: mild or mild."
Esme rolled her eyes as Maxim chuckled.
"Mild," said Finn excitedly.
Arthur grabbed a glass and John poured the alcohol into it. Just then, the door opened. "There he is," said Arthur standing. The other's followed his head as Polly entered the room, a proud smile on her face, and Michael just behind her.
They all stood and cheered as Tommy shook Michael's hand. "Happy Birthday, Michael,' he said with a rare smile.
"Eighteen years old," boomed Arthur. "You're a man today. Give him a drink, John Boy."
John grabbed a glass and filled it from inside the bucket on the table. "There you go, lad," he said, handing it to him.
"And after that, we will go and find you a lady of the night," continued Arthur, downing another glass.
"Arthur!" Polly scolded.
He looked around, his eyes landing on Lottie, murmuring, "What?" to her. She smirked in response and shook her head. She took a cigarette out of her case and lit it, her eyes landing on the exchange between Tommy and Michael.
"Michael," addressed Tommy, reaching into his pocket. He handed him a small black box.
Michael took it from him. "What's that?" He asked, opening it.
"So you're never late for work," he replied.
Michael's grey eyes flickered to Tommy's as if analysing to make sure he wasn't teasing. He smiled when Tommy nodded.
"Welcome to the business, Michael," said John.
Lottie lifted her glass. "Well done," she congratulated.
He smiled at her, his soft eyes not looking away as Polly hugged him proudly. Lottie felt her cheeks blushing slightly and so she averted her eyes away and finished her drink. What was happening to her? She wasn't one to blush at a pretty pair of eyes. No, sir. That was not who she was. She was Lottie fucking Thorne, no one made her blush.
When Polly released her son from the embrace, John grabbed his shoulders cheerfully. "Right, come on," he encouraged, "let's get him drunk. Come 'ere, you."
"Alright, whiskey," said Arthur.
Tommy pointed his finger at his brother. "No whiskey. He's got work tomorrow. Give him only dark mild." He then lifted his glass. "A toast," he announced. "To Michael."
"To Michael!" they repeated, clinking their glasses together in the middle of the table.
They continued to drink, refilling their glasses from the bucket and soon enough it was empty. "Right," said Lottie in a loud voice. "I'm going to get some more, don't none of you do anything stupid while I'm gone."
They chuckled as she left the room, bucket in hand, as she made her way towards the bar. "Same again," she instructed to the bartender. He nodded and took the bucket from her. Lottie lent against the side casually, but a smile grew on her lips when she saw Michael exit the room and walk towards her. "Happy birthday," she said, grinning.
"Thank you," he replied, smiling.
"And how's it going so far?"
He looked down before looking back at her, meeting her eyes. "I got the job, so pretty well."
She put a hand on his arm. "I knew you would. Tommy would have been a fool to deny you."
Michael chuckled.
Lottie looked back towards the shut door to the room. "And I'm about to make your birthday even better." She leaned over the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and a glass. When the bartender saw her she whispered, "You never saw this."
He nodded and turned back to filling the bucket.
Pouring the whiskey into the glass she handed it to Michael. "A birthday treat," she said. "Don't tell Tommy. Or Polly. Especially, Polly - she'd skin me alive."
Michael laughed and downed the glass in one, spluttering slightly, causing the two of them to burst out laughing. Unbeknownst to the pair, John had opened the door to shout where the bucket was, but the sight of Lottie's beaming face caught him off guard. It was so open, so genuine, it made him freeze where he stood. He'd not seen her like that in so long. Even with him, there was still a seriousness behind her eyes, a sadness. She could hide her emotions well, but not to him. He always saw the weight that she silently carried, the invisible burden on her shoulders. But now, there was nothing, just joy. It sparked a surge of anger within his chest - how could this boy, who they had not known for long already having such an impact on the girl he loved. But there was sadness, too. The girl he loved was happy... without him. It was a selfish thought, but it still pierced him like a bullet. He turned away and hid the pain behind a smile, announcing the bucket would be returning soon.
At the end of their celebration, Maxim made his goodbyes and Lottie knew she was to leave, too. Smiling, she went to leave. She hugged Arthur tightly and when she leaned back, she said, "Don't forget what I said earlier."
He nodded in his dismissing way. "I know."
She kissed his cheek and went to leave, stopping at Polly and Michael. She hugged Polly and turned to Polly's son. She smiled warmly. "Happy birthday," she wished again. "And well done on getting the job, truly." She leaned forwards and softly pressed her red lips on his cheek, leaving a stain. She smiled again before leaving.
Michael stared after her, a fluttering feeling in his stomach as he reached to his cheek where Lottie had kissed him. He was able to control his expression, but he was unable to take his eyes off the girl. Something which Polly did not fail to notice. An icy protective fear spread underneath her skin. She knew she'd have to do something.
***
Later that evening, Lottie turned on the living room lights and collapsed onto her sofa. She was exhausted from the day and was ready to crash and fall asleep. She gratefully slipped off her heels before reaching forward and grabbing a book off the coffee table in front of her. With her legs underneath her, she sat, curled up, prepared to read a couple of pages before sleep took over.
However, before she could start reading, there was a knock at the door. Putting her book down, she turned her head around to see if Maxim was anywhere in sight. Unfortunately, he was not. Sighing begrudgingly, she forced herself to stand up and walked towards the door. On the other side was Polly. A confused smile appeared on Lottie's lips, "Polly," she greeted.
This was unusual for Polly to come round - perhaps something was wrong. The steel look in Polly's eyes ignited a fire of anxiety in Lottie's stomach.
"Can I come in?" asked Polly.
Realising that she'd been standing in the doorway, Lottie nodded and stepped aside. Polly entered and stood in the middle of the living room, Lottie standing behind, still confused.
"Has something happened?" She asked.
"No," said Polly. "Nothing's happened. I just wanted to talk to you."
"Oh," she murmured. "Sure." She moved to sit down on the sofa, moving her book onto the coffee table so that Polly could sit also - which she did.
Lottie turned to her mother-figure expectantly. Despite her mind telling her to relax, she couldn't stop her fingers twisting nervously together. "What did you want to talk about?" She asked cautiously.
Polly ignored the question and instead picked up the book. Silently, she looked at the title and then the blurb. "I haven't read this one," she noted.
"Oh, that's a very good book," Lottie replied, her anxious mind whirling. "I recommend it."
Polly nodded, flicking through the pages.
"Polly," said Lottie suddenly.
She looked up, her thin brows raised, not giving anything away.
"Polly," Lottie repeated, sighing. "Can you please just tell me what's going on?"
Polly's face hardened. All pretenses vanished and she went straight to the point. "I want you to stay away from Michael," she said bluntly, her expression cold and stern like stone.
Lottie scoffed surprised. "What?" She murmured.
"You heard me," she said threateningly. "I want you to stay away from my son."
"Why?"
"Because I know you," she replied. "I've known you your whole life. I don't want you to play with him. Not with my son."
Lottie shook her head. "You're ridiculous," she laughed ruefully. "You're actually fucking ridiculous. I'm not playing with Michael. What the fuck are you talking about?"
"I've seen the shared looks - my son is young, I don't want him involved in any of the family business or anything to do with it."
"Michael isn't young," Lottie argued.
Polly clenched her jaw. "I don't want him getting hurt."
"And you think that I do?" she challenged. "Fuck, Poll."
"Lottie," snapped Polly, grabbing onto Lottie's arm with a tight grip.
"Get off me," demanded Lottie.
Polly ignored her. "Lottie. All your relationships end in heartbreak."
"Let go of me," Lottie growled dangerously.
"Michael couldn't survive you, especially if he knew everything about you."
"Polly. Get the fuck off me."
When she said nothing, Lottie twisted her arm painfully in order to get out of Polly's grip. Her own pain was worth it when she freed herself. Standing up, she glared furiously at the woman. "You're fucking insane!" She exclaimed. "I'm not going to stay away from Michael just because you think we're 'sharing looks'!"
Polly stood up suddenly and stepped closer to their faces were only mere inches apart. Both their eyes were ablaze with anger. "If you don't stay away from Michael, I'll tell him about him."
Lottie shuddered, stepping backward. All the colour drained from her face becoming ghostly white. "You wouldn't..." she murmured.
"I would," Polly said strongly.
"You promised you'd never tell anyone," she said shaking her head.
"For my son, I'd break any and every promise."
That was ruthless. Ruthless...
Lottie shook her head, closing her eyes. She could feel her heart rip inside her chest. She couldn't believe it. She didn't think Polly could be that ruthless. That cruel.
"Get out," she whispered. When Polly didn't move, Lottie snapped her head up. "Get out!" She shouted, pointing towards the door.
This time, Polly did leave, slamming the door behind her. As soon as the bang echoed through the hall, Lottie's legs gave way beneath her. She wasn't crying, she was in shock. Complete shock. Polly - the mother figure of her life since her own had died - could so readily betray everything they had - their entire relationship - for her son. And it hurt. It hurt so much.
Once she could feel her legs again, she forced herself off the floor and into her room. With fumbling hands, she lifted the floorboard revealing a secret compartment. Lottie lifted the small box out, sifted through old photographs until she found what she was looking for. Her old golden ring lay on the palm of her hand. Then with her other hand, she pulled out a small photograph. It was of her younger self and a dark-haired man. They were looking at each other and it had been taken on, what Lottie had thought at the time, the happiest day of her life.
"Fucking fool," muttered Lottie.
With the two items in her hands, she rushed back into the living room and threw them into the fireplace. She stood unblinking as they became consumed by the fire.
a/n:
ayy i uploaded another chapter - "aim to update next week".... lol that didn't happen - oops
you'd think with the whole isolation thing i'd be able to do some regular updates yet all i do is procrastinate
hopefully this long chapter will make up for it
i will try to update again soon - i promise to try aha
anyways - thoughts?
what do you think about the last scene between lottie and polly? do you think polly's being out of line or rightly protective of her son? do you think lottie should listen to polly's warning or listen to what she wants to do? what are your thoughts on michael in general? did you like lottie's scene with arthur? what do you think about lottie burning the ring and photograph at the end? who is the man? i'd love to know your thoughts and theories
did you enjoy this chapter in general lol? that would be a plus to be honest
what do you think is going to happen next? what do you think lottie should do?
anyways - hope you enjoyed it - hope you don't feel bombarded by all the questions - i'm just genuinely interested on what you guys think is going to happen n stuff
i've got the next load of chapters planned and sorted i just need to actually write them aha
hopefully i'll be updating soon but life is busy again but i will try
hope you have a lovely day :))
published :: 4/4/2020