Chapter Six
"You tosser!"
"I can't believe you're going to the races."
Arabella stopped briefly, turning over the price tag on a gold dress before letting that dream die. Way over budget.
"Trust me, it's not as simple as that," she told Mallory, her finger gently grazing along the row of dresses they passed, all of them far too lavish and expensive for her.
"What is it then?"
"If I told you," Arabella trailed off, becoming slightly distracted as a dark coloured dress caught her attention. "I'd have to kill you."
"Lovely," Mallory stated with a slight scoff. "You spend half an hour with Tommy Shelby and you're already picking up on his habits."
"What do you think of this?" Arabella asked, completely ignoring Mallory's previous comment. She held out a deep wine coloured dress for her best friend to see – it was absolutely stunning.
"I think that I'd definitely fancy you in that," Mallory replied, running a hand over the material in awe. "Wow."
Arabella lifted up the price tag and couldn't help but smile when she saw that it was within her budget. "This is the one."
Mallory followed after Arabella as she headed to the counter, slowing a few times to look at some pretty hats, or check her appearance in one of the mirrors. "Are you going as Tommy's date?" She questioned, hurrying to catch up to Arabella.
Arabella's eyes widened as she turned around the face her friend. "Absolutely not! Where did you get that idea from?"
Mallory shrugged, fiddling with her hair in the mirror, sparing a glance at her best friend's gobsmacked reflection. "Just wondered. Whole thing just seems a bit...sudden."
Arabella exhaled heavily, not liking keeping secrets from her friend. But it was better that she didn't know, just in case the knowledge wasn't safe for her. "Trust me, if I could tell you I would."
"Is it business?" Mallory asked, turning to face her properly.
Arabella hesitated. "Kind of."
Mallory's eyebrows pinched together. "I thought that you didn't want to get involved in that."
"I don't," Arabella pointed out, turning away again to go and pay for the dress.
"Then I don't understand," Mallory said, trailing closely behind her. "Isn't this getting involved with business?"
Arabella sighed, placing the dress neatly on the counter. The shop worker smiled politely at her, as Mallory stopped by her side. Arabella turned to face her friend. "I told you, Mal, it's complicated."
Once the dress was payed for, the two girls left the shop, Arabella very satisfied with her purchase. Though, a mixture of emotions began to stir in her stomach when she caught sight of at least three Peaky Blinders in the surrounding area, all following the two girls to keep them safe, reminding her of the people who were out to get her. Arabella wasn't safe, and she didn't know how long it would take for her to ever be safe again.
"So, I never told you about Isaiah and I," Mallory spoke as they reached her doorstep. She fumbled in her purse for her key, whilst Arabella, out of a new paranoid habit, checked the surrounding area, but it was all clear.
The door was pushed open and Arabella stepped inside after Mallory, both girls shrugging off their coats and hanging them up on the rail.
"From the look on your face, I'm presuming he asked you out again," Arabella said, cutting off quickly as Mallory's mother entered the hall through the kitchen door, the pleasant smell of food wafting through with her. Arabella's stomach grumbled. "Hi, Mrs Harmon," she smiled politely. "Something smells good."
"Oh, Arabella, dear!" Mrs Harmon beamed with the falsest sincerity Arabella had ever seen, hurrying over to pull the girl into a hug. Arabella stiffened slightly, but did her best to relax and hug the woman back. "It's so good to see you!"
"And you, Mrs Harmon," Arabella smiled in return as she pulled away. There was a moment of awkward silence, felt heavily by all three of them.
"Bells and I were just going upstairs," Mallory cut in quickly, gently taking her friend's arm.
"Okay," Mrs Harmon said, still plastering on a smile. "You girls have fun."
Arabella let Mallory tug her away, following her best friend upstairs and into the bedroom she knew all so well. When the door closed shut behind them, Mallory fell back onto the bed with a sigh. "Didn't think she'd be in."
"It's okay," Arabella assured her. "I'm used to it."
"She doesn't hate you," Mallory reminded, as Arabella gently sat herself down beside her. "She just–"
"Hates what my brother does," Arabella finished for her. "I know. A lot of people do. Including me."
"It's not all bad, you know," Mallory reminded, leaning across the bed to open a cupboard, where Arabella knew she stashed alcohol sometimes. Mallory pulled out a bottle of gin, and held it up to Arabella with a grin.
Arabella chuckled. "Go on then."
Mallory twisted the cap open and passed it to her. "Anyway, the Peaky Blinders aren't all bad. They do some horrible things, but they're not heartless."
"I feel like this is going somewhere..." Arabella trailed, taking a swig from the bottle, as Mallory fell silent, beginning playing with her fingers in her lap.
"Isaiah and I slept together."
Arabella's airways suddenly became clogged as she choked on her drink. She coughed loudly, holding the bottle away from her, eyes watering from the burning sensation. "You did what?!"
"I knew you'd react like this," she mumbled, snatching the bottle from Arabella and bringing it to her lips.
"I'm sorry, it's just, you took me by surprise, that's all," Arabella told her, watching unsurely as she drank. "I didn't think you wanted to get involved with him."
Mallory swallowed thickly, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. "Had a change of heart."
"Clearly."
Mallory scoffed at her. "Like you wouldn't."
"I wouldn't go there even if you paid me."
Mallory took another long gulp of her drink. "Forgot how much you two love to pretend to hate each other. Bicker like bloody siblings you do."
"We did grow up around each other," Arabella pointed out.
Mallory raised her eyebrows. "True." Before she could drink the rest of the gin, Arabella took the bottle back off her, taking another sip for herself. "So what about you and Michael?"
Arabella wished Mallory would stop making such surprising statements when Arabella was trying to drink. She swallowed heavily, trying not to cough. "Michael Gray?"
"Who else?" Mallory rolled her eyes. "Saw you flirting with him last week when we were at the Garrison."
"Flirting?!"
"Yeah," Mallory poked her side teasingly. "I saw ya. Big smiles and all."
"Just because a lady is being nice, doesn't mean she's flirting."
"Did you just call yourself a lady?"
"Maybe a bit of a stretch," Arabella admitted, causing Mallory to giggle. "But anyway, for the record, I wasn't flirting."
"Well, he seemed to take an interest," Mallory said, taking the gin back from Arabella, who put up a bit of a fuss before handing it back, reminding herself of how unwell she'd felt the other day following a whole night of drinking. She never wanted to feel that ill ever again.
"What do you mean?" Arabella asked, feeling her face flushing a little at the thought, though, if Mallory picked up on it, she would definitely blame it on the alcohol.
"Kept asking Isaiah and I questions," she replied, corners of her lips tugging. "Reckon you've got yourself an admirer."
"You're reading too much into it," Arabella told her, not wanting to quite deal with the idea of Michael liking her. She knew Mallory was probably embellishing the story a little bit anyway, so she didn't think too much of it.
"Is he going to the races?" Mallory asked, grinning as she nudged her side. Then she gasped in realisation. "Is that why you got that pretty dress?"
"I'm not sure," Arabella answered truthfully. "And no, I got that pretty dress because I bloody deserve it."
"Guess I cant fault you on that," Mallory said, taking another swig from the bottle. "You made up with Mason yet?"
"Nope."
"You plan on it?"
"Nope."
Mallory sighed, shifting so she was sat cross-legged, facing her best friend. "You can't hold grudges forever."
"I can try."
"It's not good for you," she told her. "Make up before it's too late. Or you'll regret it."
"Mallory!" Mrs Harmon's voice travelled loudly upstairs, interrupting the two girls. "Dinner! Tell Arabella she's welcome!"
Mallory glanced at Arabella expectantly, but she shook her head. "Better go." Mallory nodded understandingly and hid the bottle away again before the two girls began to head downstairs. As Arabella began putting on her coat, Mrs Harmon came back out of the kitchen. "Thank you so much for the offer, Mrs Harmon, but I have to get home," Arabella told her kindly.
"That's okay, dear," Mrs Harmon smiled, definitely sounding a little relieved. "It was lovely to see you."
"And you," Arabella replied, reaching for the door handle. "Have a nice evening."
She waved them both goodbye and closed the door shut behind her, letting out a heavy breath. Arabella walked the streets slowly, prolonging the time it took to get home so she wouldn't have to face her brother just yet. She held the bag with her dress in one hand, and gripped the key in her coat pocket with the other.
Arabella began to think about what Mallory had said about her and Mason, and knew, deep down, that her friend was right, she had to stop holding grudges, especially with her brother. But she didn't exactly feel as if she was in the wrong, after all, she was only looking after him, so she wanted him to be the one to apologise.
Arabella became so engrossed in her own thoughts, that the feeling of an arm wrapping around her shoulder completely startled her. Reacting quickly, Arabella elbowed the her attacker as forcefully as she could, whirling around to hold out her keys as a weapon, only to be met with a very surprised John Shelby.
"Fuckin' hell!" he exclaimed, clutching his abdomen as he doubled over, face scrunched in pain . "What the bloody hell's wrong with you?!"
"You tosser!" she uttered, whacking him a few times with her bag. "Don't creep up on people like that!"
"All right, all right." He held up his hands in defence. "I'm sorry." Arabella huffed, dusting herself off as John pulled himself together, wincing a little. His eyes then spotted the bag in Arabella's hands, where he could distinctly make out the material of a dress through the gap. "Let's have a look at it then."
Arabella's eyebrows drew together in confusion, until John suddenly reached for the bag. Before she could rip it away from him, he'd already began to lift the dress out to take a better look.
"Get your grubby hands off," she hissed, slapping him away.
He let the material slip through his fingers and fall back into the bag, and then looked up at Arabella with a grin. "Very fancy." She rolled her eyes, tugging the dress close to her as she started to set off walking once more. "So you're coming with us, eh?"
"Didn't buy it for no reason, did I?" she responded dryly, as John quickly caught up with her.
"Glad you're taking Tommy's advice for once," he said, looking over at her with a grin, placing a toothpick into his mouth. "He'll be pleased."
"Yeah, well, I better not regret it," she said sternly as they turned the corner. Arabella's eyes instantly landed on the betting shop, naturally assuming that it was John's destination. "I'll be seeing you then."
"Want me to walk you home?" He asked, slowing to a stop. He glanced around at their surroundings, noticing the numerous Blinders on alert around then, a lot of them out solely for her protection.
"Think I'll make it," she replied with a small smile, tone softening in response to his kind gesture. "See you around."
"Laters, Bells."
Arabella walked the streets alone again, keeping her gaze lowered. It was no secret how paranoid she'd been lately, even with the amount of men on the streets watching out for her and her brother, and protecting their house. John had startled her earlier, and as she walked alone she began to feel herself tremble, worrying that she could hear footsteps creeping up behind her, but every time she turned around to check, there was nobody there.
Her breathing became shallow as she turned the corner to Watery Lane, glancing behind her once more, only to slam straight into somebody. Arabella jumped back in surprise, her heart practically leaping out of her chest in fear, until she met familiar eyes.
"Michael," she breathed out, pulse beating rapidly as she silently willed herself to calm down. She was safe. Everything was okay. It was just Michael.
"We have to stop meeting like this, Arabella," he said, offering her a smile, his eyes drifting over her for a few seconds, noticing that she looked a little startled. "Are you okay?"
"I'm good," she assured, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Just heading home for dinner."
Michael nodded, placing his hands into his trouser pockets. He wasn't convinced she was completely fine, but he wasn't going to press the issue. "I won't keep you then," Michael told her, his gaze then landing on the bag in her hand, where he could just about make out its contents was a dress. His mind began to race, imagining what she'd look like with a pretty dress like that on. "Would you like me to walk you to your door?"
Arabella smiled softly at his offer. "I only live down the street, so no worries. But thank you, Michael. That's very kind of you."
"Even so," he began, not wanting to leave her company so soon. "It's no bother."
Arabella gave in to his offer, albeit, if she was being honest, with little reluctance. Michael was, indeed, very charming, and very persuasive, and handsome, and soon they had set off walking quietly side by side, occasionally bumping shoulders.
Arabella kept her gaze ahead of her, but Michael kept stealing glances at the girl, eyes often wondering slightly. How it was possible, he didn't know, but in the natural daylight she looked even more beautiful than he had remembered. And every now and then, he'd catch the scent of her perfume, the sweet smell so fitting for somebody so divine.
"Are you going to the races?" He asked her, the question having been burning on his tongue. He wondered whether that was what the dress was for, and if it was, he was going to be incredibly disappointed that he wouldn't get to be seeing her in it.
"Yes," Arabella replied, pausing for a moment before she followed up with her own question, not wanting to appear too eager. "Are you?"
Michael chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "I barely persuaded my mother to let me go and buy a horse with Tommy."
Arabella glanced over at him with a smile. "Polly's just trying to keep you safe."
"I suppose so," he replied, noticing her slow down slightly as they approached a black door. He suppressed a sigh, time having passed far too quickly for his liking.
"This is me," Arabella said, fumbling in her coat pocket for her key, hoping she hadn't dropped it earlier when John had scared the bloody life out of her. "I'd invite you in for some tea but..." she trailed off, thinking over her words. "My brother and I haven't exactly been on the best of terms lately. I wouldn't want you to feel awkward."
"It's no problem," Michael smiled understandingly, his gaze remaining on her eyes. "Perhaps another time."
Arabella nodded, glancing down at her feet as she felt her face begin to flush, Mallory's words from earlier ringing in her head.
"Thank you for walking me back," she eventually said, looking up at him through her long eyelashes. Their eyes locked, and Michael's gaze deepened. Arabella's mouth suddenly felt very dry, and her face very hot. "I, uh, I guess I'll see you around," she said, turning slightly to slide her key into the lock, only to have it slip from her hand. "Shit," she muttered, instantly bending to retrieve it, Michael following suit.
The key lodged itself nicely between two cobblestones, and the pair of them both reached for it, hands accidentally grazing. Michael's skin tingled at their touch, which lingered for a few moments before Arabella pulled her hand away with an embarrassed laugh, her cheeks flushing pink.
Michael took the key as they both stood again. He passed it to her, making sure his hand brushed against hers again.
"Thank you," she said quietly, biting down on her bottom lip as she looked up at him again, the single action sending his mind into overdrive.
Michael cleared his throat, smiling back at her. "I'll see you around, Arabella."
And god did she love the way he said her name.
A/N
I love them.