Chapter Thirty-Seven
Separation
"What did he say?"
Exhaustion was the only thing Lottie felt as she climbed out the car and stepped into the white house of her prison cell. It wasn't late, the sun was only beginning to set, but they had left early for some other business Lottie didn't know about. James gripped onto her forearm tightly, his fingers pressing harshly into her skin and she was sure that she would not doubt get a bruise from where his fingers bit into her flesh throughout the night. Lottie knew she had to be calm. She had to be, her children's lives depended on it. If she upset James, Freddie and her unborn child would pay for it. Not for the first time, she questioned how her life had come to this. How had she, Lottie Thorne, the infamous girl from Birmingham, one of the Peaky Blinders, turn into this cowering woman? She reminded herself there was strength in silence and patience, but she was not a patient woman. Sure, she could hurt James, kill him. He wouldn't be her first, but then what? She knew there were men guarding the house, she was watched, and so was Freddie. She knew if anything happened to James, the same would happen to her children.
Lottie shivered, but tried to mask it as she stepped inside. Jemima appeared instantly at her side, helping her with her furred coat. and the two smiled warmly but discreetly at one another. A second, young blushing maid helped James out of his, but he paid her no mind, which only caused the girl to shoot a seething glare in Lottie's direction.
Jemima rested a hand in Lottie's arm. "Would you like some tea, Miss?" She asked.
Lottie nodded before murmuring quietly so only they'd hear, "And slip a little whiskey in it, too."
The maid smiled and nodded before hurrying away. Lottie walked through to the sitting room and sat down onto the armchair by the fireplace, forcing a sweet smile in James' direction as he moved towards his study. Jemima returned with a tea cup and Lottie drank from it deeply after thanking the girl. He knew now - he knew that she was pregnant with Michael's child again. It was too late to deny it. Her sole reason for existence now was to protect her children, both born and unborn. Cradling her swelling belly, Lottie knew what she had to do. Taking a steadying breath, she pushed open the door to the study in which James sat staring into the fire from his armchair.
He heard her enter, but he didn't look over. His hand rested on his chin, thinking, considering, calculating. Swallowing hard, Lottie stepped towards him, around his desk, and knelt by his feet. She hated herself for what she was doing, but it was necessary. She was Lotitia. She took his hand which was resting on the arm of the chair and held it with both of her own. "James," she began in the soft, weak voice she knew he loved to hear. "James," she repeated. "I can only imagine how much you hate me... I wish the truth isn't what it is, but..." She rested a hand on her belly. "But this child... it won't be Michael's - he was only a boy that I used to amuse myself with. He meant nothing to me. No one ever did. Only you. This child wouldn't be his, but yours. It would be you and I who would raise it. This baby..." Lottie looked up hopefully at James who was now looking down at her with careful eyes. "It will be ours."
When he said nothing, she gripped his hand tightly, unable to stop the tears from filling her eyes slightly. "James," she said, her voice begging. "I love you. I've always loved you. You know this. I can't lose this baby. Don't take it away from me - from us. It would break my heart. I know I can't convince you to do something you don't want to do, but, please, James, please. Let us raise this baby together and it will be our own. Please, if you love me. Please."
Again, he said nothing.
Bowing her head, she nodded. "Alright," she murmured, standing up to leave.
He grabbed her hand suddenly, his dark empty eyes staring up at her. "On one condition," he said.
She furrowed her brows.
"We'll keep the baby," said James, "on the condition that once it's born, we'll have one truly our own."
Lottie's lips broke out into a smile and she knelt beside him again, kissing his hands. "Yes, of course, my love. Thank you, thank you."
James lifted her chin and kissed her on her lips. She cringed at the very touch of him, but she didn't show it. She had won this battle, but she still needed to escape before she'd have to hold her end of the bargain. There would be no chance in hell she'd carry his devil inside of her. Slowly, he stood and walked over to the phonograph on the table. Wordlessly, he turned it on to play and music filled the room.
Lottie turned her head, surprised and saw James walking slowly towards her. When he was standing beside her, he extended his hand. "Would you like to dance?" He asked quietly. How he looked now made her shiver. His seemingly honest, vulnerable eyes, his open hands, his loving smile. This had been the man she'd fallen in love with. This was the man that convinced her to elope and run away with. Just looking at him made her want to forgive her younger self. How could she, a child, have known the truth behind this mask? She put on her best smile and took his hand. He closed the proximity between them and they swayed softly to the slow music. Lottie made herself kiss him, fighting the urge to vomit. To hide her disgust, she rested her head on his chest. A tear fell down her cheek. How she hated him...
The song finished, a crackling sound filling the air. James cleared his throat. "Come on, we need to get going," said James.
"Go where?" Asked Lottie confused.
"To see some friends. Get changed. And wear your jewels tonight."
"But we've just come back."
"Why do you think we left early?"
"Of course," she nodded and forced a smile. Kissing his cheek, she turned away before hurrying upstairs. Jemima was inside laying out Lottie's nightgown. "Jem, fetch my purple dress. Mr Teel has informed me I'm to go out with him for dinner."
She dressed into a richly coloured blue dress that tightened across her stomach and put on the jewelled necklace and earrings that James had ordered to be laid out. Looking like an expensive trophy, she climbed into the car. The journey was long as she was beginning to think he had lied to draw her away, an easy bullet to the head would solve his adulterous wife problem, but James only smiled at her. They finally turned onto a long drive towards what could only be called a palace. "Where are we?" she asked, looking out the window.
"Hampton Court," said James casually. "We're accompanying my friend Father Hughes at a dinner in the guest housing."
She nodded numbly unable to shake the feeling of being incredibly small. A servant opened her door and helped her out. Inside, though not the palace, was majestic. Large paintings covered the walls, candles were lit in every corner. For a moment it took her breath away in awe, but it quickly turned to suffocation. The two of them were led to a dining room where five others were already sat. Inside, there was a woman who looked as if she were a queen, a pathetic looking man whose jewels seemed to be unbalancing him, a young woman who looked evenly as they entered, a bald man with a tight expression, and another man. His white collar indicated who he was. Hughes. Lottie could almost see the infestation inside Hughes' eyes as he stared at them. It took everything inside her not to run.
"Your Highness, Mr James Teel and Mrs Lotitia Teel," the servant announced.
"Ah, you've arrived," said Hughes, his voice thick with his Irish accent. He turned to the others. "This is who I have told you about." His slimy eyes landed on her. "And his lovely wife, this is a surprise. I didn't realise you would also be attending."
"I simply did not want to leave her," said James. "I hope you'll forgive me."
The scrawny looking older man flicked his wrist. "Set another place at the table for the, uh, lovely lady."
Hughes smiled. "Let me introduce you. This is the Grand Duchess Izabella Petrovna, the Duke Leon Petrovich Romanov, their niece, Tatiana Petrovna, and Patrick Jarvis, MP."
"It's an honour," said Lottie.
The Grand Duchess nodded. "You're in time for the performance," she said in a thick Russian accent.
Lottie smiled as she was led to her seat beside James. A man with a violin entered; he bowed and begun playing. He was very skilled and the music enjoyable, but Lottie couldn't relax, she felt as if she'd jumped into a pit of snakes and was just waiting for them to attack. Her heart was thumping so loudly that she didn't notice the servant open the door as the violinist finished. They clapped as he lowered his instrument.
"Your Highness," the servant announced again, "Mr Thomas Shelby."
Lottie froze. It couldn't be. It wasn't possible. She turned towards the door, and there he was, Tommy. She could almost imagine him as a knight in shining armour as he stood in the doorway. The widening of his eyes showed that he was just as surprised as her.
"Welcome, Mr Shelby," said the Russian man. "I believe you've met everyone apart from my wife, Grand Duchess Izabella Petrovna. Please take a seat. Ah, and Mr Teel and his wife."
Tommy nodded and sat at the remaining seat opposite Lottie, next to Tatiana, who said, "Before we begin, Mr Shelby, we must offer you our sincere condolences on your recent loss, which some of us witnessed."
Lottie stared. She wanted to ask. She wanted to reach over and hug him. She looked between Tommy, Tatiana and James, desperate for one of them to say. But they said nothing.
"Did you drive, Mr Shelby?" Tatiana asked.
Tommy's eyes wouldn't look away from Lottie, as if part of him thought it was his imagination or that she was a ghost, not truly there. He nodded. "Yes."
James sat up straight, his eyes darkening at Tommy's unblinking stare. He cleared his throat. "They say you're an expert on cars, Mr Shelby."
"Yes, I am."
"I am curious," said the Grand Duchess. "What as your father's profession?"
Tommy looked towards her. "Well, he, uh, told fortunes, and he stole horses."
A small smirk appeared on the corner of Lottie's lips.
"Often, he would tell a man that his horse would be stolen, and they would marvel at his powers when it was," he continued in his dry humour.
The Grand Duchess smiled genuinely.
The priest to Lottie's side adjusted his collar. Between him and James, she felt trapped, but with Tommy opposite, he was like a lighthouse in the dark, and she only looked at him. The priest then said, "Before we eat, should we say grace?" He put his hands together on the table. "For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly thankful. Amen."
Tommy shook his head. "I'm not here to eat. I'm here to do business. And what I have to say can be said before the main course. Then I will leave you all to your evening." His eyes went back to Lottie whose heart dropped.
"Grand Duchess, I must apologise for the bad manners of my compatriot," said the priest.
"This is a report on the mission's progress so far," said Tommy, clearing his throat revealing an envelope from his jacket. "I've made only one copy for security." He looked pointedly around the table. "Who should I give it to?"
The Duke stood to take it as his wife said, "My husband is in charge of this operation, but since there will no doubt be vodka later, perhaps you should give it to me for safe-keeping." She took it from his hands. Lottie, though hating this situation, gained respect for the woman. She clearly was the one with the brains and the control. The Grand Duchess turned back to Tommy. "Speak, Mr Shelby, while we eat."
"Five factory foremen on our payroll have begun a campaign of victimisation," begun Tommy, "against communist workers in five factories across Birmingham. Anger amongst the workers will grow, but we will control it. On the night of June 21st, a general strike will be called across the city. Protests will develop into riots, and all police that are not already under our control will be busy. The city will be paralysed."
"So, how will you move the train?" questioned James, as if determined to catch him out.
"We have two locomotive drivers who've been allocated to drive the midnight goods train to London," he replied cooly. "The armoured vehicles will be waiting on flatbeds."
"And ammunition?" asked the Grand Duchess.
"The ammunition-"
"I have to say that this soup is exceptional," said the priest looking uncomfortable. "Absolutely delicious."
Tommy paused. "The ammunition and incendiaries will already have been packed up and crated for transport to Istanbul."
"And how long to London?" asked the Duke.
"The train won't reach London," said Tommy. "All the good will be unloaded at a coal yard at St Albans and put onto Shelby Company trucks. From there, they will go directly to the Poplar Docks."
The priest cut in. "Your Highness, if you're having difficulty understanding his accent, then I can go through the plan with you at a later date."
Lottie rolled her eyes, thinking rich coming from him with his thick Irish accent. Tommy caught her eye, the corner of his mouth lifting upwards that she knew was a smile just for her. "If there is no ship waiting for my men," continued Tommy, "all goods will be dumped into the sea before first light."
Jarvis sat forwards. "What happens when they discover the armoured cars are missing?"
"During the rioting, the Lanchester factory will be firebombed. A scrap metal dealer of my acquaintance will declare that all the armoured vehicles are in the wreckage and should be written off as salvage. And no one will know that they are in your possession."
Jarvis nodded.
Hughes cleared his throat. "We formulated this plan when we met at Birmingham."
Lottie scoffed, but quickly realising she had, she quickly coughed, trying to disguise it.
"I'm certain that nothing has been overlooked," said the priest.
Tommy looked down at his lap and took out his pen. "Thus, uh, is the amount of extra expense I believe I will incur for trucks and fuels," he said, folding the napkin he'd just written on over, and passing it down the table to the Grand Duchess. "I trust you will respond in kind."
She read it and smiled. "But, of course, Mr Shelby."
Tommy nodded before standing. "Before I go, I would like it known that I'm unable to swallow food in the same room as this priest." He looked around, his eyes resting on Lottie. "Enjoy your evening." He turned and disappeared through the door.
Lottie looked to the Grand Duchess. "Will you excuse me?"
She nodded.
James went to grab her arm to stop her, but she'd already stood and made her way to the door. Once out fo the room, her walk turned into a run and she didn't stop as she practically ran into him as he had waited in an abandoned room. "Oh, Tommy," she murmured as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
"Lottie, are you hurt? Are you alright?" He asked fretfully as he held her close to him.
"I'm fine," she nodded, as she pulled her head away to look at him properly, "but I can't stay any longer. It's killing me. James has Freddie and I don't know how much longer James will tolerate him before... before he removes him. I'm running out of time."
Tommy took her face in his hands, their faces inches away from each other. "We're watching the house, Lottie. I'll get you out."
She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too," he promised.
The sound of heels approaching made them tense. Without thinking, Lottie leant forward and pressed her lips into his, his warmth spreading into her, a jolt of electricity sparking between them. Before she wanted to, she pulled away. "He'll kill my children, Tommy," she whispered.
She turned and saw Tatiana walking up to them. Lottie smiled at her and looked back at Tommy one last time, longing, pain, happiness, and fear in each of their eyes.
*
An Irish voice filled the hallway as Hughes was let in by one of the maids, James greeted him with a quick shake of their hands before they disappeared into James' study. Lottie watched from the top of the stairs, her eyes dark and shadowed. Seeing Tommy had given her hope, a spark had ignited in her soul in a way it hadn't since she'd been taken. She sat at the top of the stairs, a decanter and glass resting beside her, which Jemima refilled when she had emptied it. Her head was swaying by the time the priest reappeared in the hallway. He had a smug sort of expression on his face as his eyes lifted to the top of the stairs, landing on her. "Have a good evening, Mrs Teel."
Lottie stood, her jaw tight, her eyes cold.
He smiled to himself, chuckled quietly, before leaving the house. Lottie grabbed the remains of her whiskey and downed it. Wiping her lips with the back of her hand, she hurried down the stairs, aiming right for the study. She opened the door, not knocking or waiting for an answer. James looked up at her, his eyes surprised, his brows furrowing. Before he could say anything, she spoke. "What did the priest want?"
"Excuse me?" He questioned.
"Hughes? What did he want?" She demanded. "I don't like him, James. I don't trust him."
"Since when do I care who you trust?" He snapped.
An icy fear slipped down her spine. "What is it? James?" She stepped towards him, reaching for his hands, but he snatched them away from her. "What did he say, James?"
"He had some suggestions for our future family, that's all."
"What suggestions?" She whispered quietly. What he didn't answer, she gripped his shoulder, forcing him to look at her. "What did he say!" She shouted.
"That I should get rid of your fucking bastard rats and hand them over to his orphanage so that we could start new!" He roared.
"No."
James looked at her with disgust. "You're drunk. Go to bed." Without waiting for a reply, he took her arm in his hand, half dragging half leading her out of his study and towards the bedroom. Lottie fought as hard as she could to get out of his grip. Her breath became laboured, tears streaming down her face. No, no, no, no. This couldn't happen. It won't happen.
"Stop!" She cried out. "James, stop! No!"
"Be quiet, for Christ's sake," he snapped, turning to face her at the top of the stairs, pulling her close to him. "I have made up my mind."
"So your promise? It was a lie? What about our deal?" She spat.
"A better one came along."
"I won't let you! I won't let you separate me from my children! I won't let you!"
"And how will you stop me?"
"I'll kill you. I'll kill you!"
"What with, hm? How will you kill me? You won't kill me. If you do, you'll never see Freddie again." He went to press his lips onto hers, but she managed to elbow him in the gut, pushing him away.
"I won't lose my children," she growled. Then she pushed him. She pushed him and he fell. She watched him tumble down all the way down, but she heard nothing. She couldn't do anything but stand there and watch. She watched as he slowly pushed himself off the floor, his body shaking from the fall, but she had no doubt from anger, too. She couldn't move as he walked to the phone and made a call. She could only hear the drumming of her heart and she knew there was no point in running, no point in hiding. She knew what was coming. Not long after he put the phone down did the front door burst open and four men rushed inside. Lottie saw James nod once and then they were upon her.
"Not her face," was all James said.
She tried to curl up, to cover herself from their beating fists, but it made no difference. Her skin split and bled and bruised with each blow. She tried to fight back, but she was too weak and they were too many. A sharp pain exploded on the back of her skull and she fell into darkness.
A/N:
I'm sorry for the long wait for the chapter but I hope you enjoyed! It's a long chapter and it covers quite a lot but I feel like Lottie has definitely lost her patience and she's gone too far with James to pretend any more.
And Tommy... what are your thoughts? Was Lottie only missing true affection and the shock of seeing a familiar face?
Anyways! I hope you enjoyed it and please do comment your thoughts and impressions and vote and follow! :))
published 06/09/2023