𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 Ada's screams woke up the entire Watery Lane and a good portion of Small Heath. Esme rushed in, an armful of wet towels, as another painful contraction rocked Ada's body.
Polly pressed one to her niece's sweaty forehead, urging her on. "Push. Push, Ada!"
Ada let out a suppressed shriek, nails digging deeper into Caterina's arm. She would later find a purplish bruise forming there and years on one could see tiny white marks where Ada's nails sunk into her flesh.
"I can't!"
The three exchanged an equally concerned look, unsure what to do next.
It would have been an understatement to say Cat was terrified - she clutched her best friend's hand with such a desperate grip. Although the number of women dying at birth fell drastically over the last decades, it still occurred once in a while, particularly at difficult births.
Cat was not letting Ada die - not now, not today, not while she breathed still.
Suddenly, Esme reached under Ada's bump, gently prodding it like an experienced nurse. "I think it might be the wrong way around." She raised her head, looking at the two women, reassuring them. "I attended three sisters."
Desperate for a solution of any kind, Polly reached over as they tried to steady a shaky Ada on her feet. "Lean her forward, then."
It would be a long night indeed.
In their comfortable private snug, the three Shelby brothers toasted in Ada's and her child's health.
Their coats haphazardly thrown over the rack, sleeves rolled up and collars loosened. Most of the bar's patrons had already filtered out once the clock struck midnight, until only three Shelby's, Grace and far too many bottles of whiskey remained.
Thrice Grace came and went, bringing whiskey and beer when Arthur or John called for another round. Her behaviour was most certainly odd - not that the boys noticed, so deep in their whiskey - as she kept glancing expectantly at Thomas every time she entered.
"You know what, John boy?" Arthur was already slurring his words, tongue tripping over the syllables. He leaned sideways towards John, eyes still centered on Tommy. "I think it's that lovely lady helping our Ada, that pretty little Italian that's made our brother go all soft."
John feigned contemplation, scrunching his brows as if he were an ancient Greek philosopher contemplating the meaning of life. "Huh, you sure it's not the sweet lil' barmaid of ours?"
It had been a long time, far too long since they could properly mock Tommy over anything, and the brothers were having a field day. "Nah Johnny I tell ya, it's a feeling." The duo roared with laughter, clinking their pints and throwing other suggestive comments Tommy's way.
All the while Thomas sat back, observing his brothers with unhidden mirth.
"You've got a thing for Italian girls, aye Tom?" John jabbed swiftly, then promptly disappeared behind his pint again.
Thomas rolled his eyes before raising his own drink. "I'll drink to that." It provoked another round of laughter from his inebriated brothers.
He let them joke to their heart's delight, instead letting his restless mind roll over their words.
So quickly did the raven haired beauty worm her way into their lives, unlike anyone before. She was all elegant poise that screamed danger, wrapped up in bloodstains and dark secrets - but Tommy Shelby did always prefer danger.
The amber liquid in his glass did not look so tempting only for the promise of erasing his pains for the night. Under the dimming light of the bar it hauntingly resembled her eyes in a way that made his gut clench uncomfortably. He felt it once, though more faint, and long time ago - before the war chewed him up and spat out what was left of him.
A bullet shell of a man; cold, heartless, dangerous.
Unbeknownst to them, a certain blonde haired barmaid pressed her ear against the window separating her and the booth, listening to their every word, a grim frown growing on her face.
Esme had been right, and once they helped Ada switch her position the labour proceeded as it was supposed to. For the next few minutes they all breathed in unison, whispering words of encouragement to Ada until a cry of life was heard in the room.
Labours were a messy affair, and some would even argue a dirty one. At least thrice Cat felt her stomach reach her escophagus and by the end of the ordeal she swore never to birth children in her lifetime.
Caterina's once pale blue dress now was now marred with bloody stains and whatever the hell other things were - she hardly paid attention to biology at school. It did not matter.
Nothing else mattered as she observed Ada taking her child in her arms for the first time, tears freely falling out of her eyes - some from pain, some from joy.
"Kat? Will you hold him?" Eyes wide, Caterina shook her head as a no.
"I can't - God, I'll drop him."
Ada rolled her eyes, scooping the baby up and holding him towards Cat. "Shut up you wuss."
Like a scared deer she slowly took the baby, all wrapped up in a blanket by Polly, careful to prop his head. "I was thinking, and I want you to be his godmother."
"Ada.." She tried to argue softly. There was no bigger honour Ada could bestow upon her friend, and the only Shelby sister knew very well what it meant to be a godmother to someone in her culture.
"You're family Kat." The new mother remained persistent in her intent. Stubborn like a Shelby, crossed Cat's mind. It should have been made a local proverb. "And I don't know anyone more worthy to be Karl's second mother."
"Karl ? Of course it's Karl." She laughed, looking down at the perfect little bundle in her arms. In that very moment she made a vow to protect that little baby, no matter the cost. "Ciao, bambino."
Little Karl squeezes his eyes before opening them for the very first time, revealing dark pools that must have been a Thorne feature. His tiny pink nose twitched in response to the cold breeze filtering into the room. Soft and warm and innocent in this wretched world he arrived to. "Io sono tua madrina, amore."
She held him for a minute longer before passing him back to his mother, just as loud footsteps were heard, nearing the room they were in.
"Ada!"
Freddie Thorne burst into the room, out of breath and a wild look in his eyes. His eyes fell first on his wife and then the bundle in her arms. He walked past Cat, dropping to his knees in front of his little family.
"Oh, he's beautiful." Freddie said tearfully, gazing down at his son.
Ada met his eyes with a wide grin, bursting with joy regardless of the exhaustion she felt. "It's a boy, Freddie."
"It's a beautiful baby boy." He voiced back, kissing the top of Ada's head, completely entranced by the sight before him.
A beautiful sight it was, one that warmed her frigid little heart more than any hearth could.
"I'll leave you two, three." Cat smiled, making way to the kitchen to wash the night from her face.
Polly was arms deep in the sink, raising a brow once Caterina entered the kitchen. She watched her as she anxiously chewed her lip, plucking at the basil plant that had turned brown weeks ago. She knew her well enough to know Cat was nervous.
"I should probably go tell the boys good news." Cat stopped poking at the poor basil, peaking at Polly instead.
"You do that dear." Polly turned back to scrubbing the dirty cloths they used only to call after her after a moment. For two long has the matter bother her mind, and now after deepening her suspicions at John's wedding...
"Cat, wait I need to ask you something." Caterina looked over her shoulder, coat already halfway over her form, expectantly.
"Do you-"
Whatever she was about to ask was cut short by the screeching of tires in the Watery lane.
Cat and Polly exchanged confused looks.
Blood in her veins turned to ice as she heard them. "Open up! Police!"
"Freddie! Get out of here right now!" Panic laced her voice as she tried to warn the man of imminent danger. Everything happened far too quickly after that.
"You can't come in here, there's a baby just been born." Polly screamed as the officers filtered into their house, slamming the doors as they entered.
Even Esme launched herself at the policemen, trying to keep them away from Ada and Freddie for as long as possible.
"Oi! Stop it!" Caterina tried to tug back one of the officers marching in the room only to be thrown back into the wall. The impact caused blackness to overcome her sight, throbbing pain blossoming in the back of her head.
"Freddie? Don't hurt him." Ada panicked, clutching Karl closer to her chest if someone even dared to touch him. "Freddie! You are hurting him, leave him alone!"
"You're taking me away from my baby?"
"Ada!" Strangled desperation seeped into his voice as the policemen dragged him out of the house and into the car waiting outside. Kicking and struggling, to no avail he tried to free himself.
"Freddie!"
Once the sound of car engine was lost, Ada dissolved into heaving sobs. Still shell shocked by the ordeal, including a gash on the back of her head where she was thrown into a sharp picture frame corner, Cat reached rushed over and enveloped her best friend in a strong embrace.
Nothing could stop the broken wails of the newly made mother in her arms, desperately clinging to the crying baby against her breast like it was the only thing she had left. On her feet, Polly's hands shook, tempest brewing in her heart. There was only one man that could have been responsible for such thing.
"Stay with Ada and the baby." The flame of righteous rage screamed in Polly's eyes. "I'm going to kill Thomas."
The house door slammed violently behind her and Caterina was not quite sure if she was exaggerating.
She makes a point of ignoring Thomas for the several following days.
It would have taken a significant amount of people to restrain her if the man in question even showed himself in her line of sight.
John had swung by her office once for a pinch of whiskey, shaken by the appearance of his estranged father - Arthur Shelby Senior. Apparently he tried to waltz back in their lives as if he didn't leave them alone and penniless, trying to lure Arthur in his schemes with a promise of money and women and a family put together again. She promised John she would keep an eye on Finn while he was busy in the shop so he didn't end up running into their old man.
Grace was the only reason why she visited The Garrison, though sparingly now, as Tommy apparently appointed her to managing books for his company. It left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Ada had cooped herself in that dingy flat Cat detested - by the Lord, that mould was so alive it could probably recite Communist Manifesto by heart - unresponsive to both her and Aunt Polly's pleas.
It was one of such days, when after leaving a fresh basket of bread and fruit in front of Ada's doors, she ventured among the people of Birmingham.
It was market day, it appeared, as she observed the organized chaos of Bull Ring. Sometimes she wondered what her life would look like it she were born in a simple, normal family - the kind that grew their produce and sold it in the market, that smiled cheerily even as the cold winter's breeze pinched their cheeks and dined together on Sundays.
But how they trembled at the sight of her, lowered their heads and went on with their business, not daring to look into her eyes.
How guilty she was for loving her self destructive way of life and all it brought. She would not trade her nights spent with a gun underneath her pillow and priceless jewels around her neck for all the safety in the world.
Just as she was about to put the freshly lit cigarette to her lips, someone interrupted her with a sharp cough.
"A fine day, is it not?"
It was the unmistakable Irish drawl of Inspector Campbell. Weeks past, Thomas had told her about the flimsy deal he struck with the man and the way he question him about the nature of their acquaintance, She did not doubt he placed his spies in her factories and shops, hoping to find an inkling, a clue to where the machine guns were hidden.
She gestured subtly to the man standing by the hat stall. Pretending he was admiring the products, he kept glancing to where Cat was approached by the Inspector. Eyes alert, he was already reaching for the weapon in the inside of his coat when she gently raised her hand, signalling for him to stand down.
"I warned you months ago, Miss Cardinale, not to meddle with the Peaky Blinders. And then you were seen in their sinful den, by the side of a known and wanted communist." He tutted, shaking his head in mockery.
Ignoring the smug look in his face she asked him the question that had been burning on her tongue for days. "How did you know Freddie would be there?"
"A little finch sang in my ear. Sang all about that scum of the Earth and his little Shelby wife." That must mean Tommy really didn't have anything to do with this.. Oh the heart of Thomas Shelby, she thought, he truly wanted to do a good thing for once.
Caterina felt ire rise in her. She stepped closer to the man. "You touch her or the baby and I'll rain hellfire on you." Retreating into her former position, she reapplied the cigarette to her lips. "You might be an inspector but no one is untouchable."
"Fierce threats for someone protected by their father's name." Says a man protected by his position of power.
"I wonder what did you do, when you failed to serve your country. Say, do you feel the weight of the souls of our fallen kinsmen, when you lie in bed at night?" She enjoyed the way the Inspector's face lit like a tomato every time she brought up his cowardice. Her brother did not die for men like him.
"It would not bode you well to make an enemy out of me. Does your father knew you've been making deals with Billy Kimber?" Campbell shoot back.
"It's time for a new generation to take over, don't you think, Inspector? Natural selection." She accentuated every letter in the words. It was only a matter of time before she properly took her place in the company, either peacefully or by force. The men would back her up, they would - she was her mother's daughter.
"You've acquainted yourself quite intimately with Thomas Shelby, I don't doubt you know where our matter of interest lies."
"And if I did know? I'll rather eat shit than tell something to a copper. Or worse, an Irishman." Chester Campbell cringed inwardly. Is this what my dear Grace is surrounded by every day, foul-mouthed heathens and harlots?
Campbell sneered at her, mustache bristling and threatening. "You are not as clever as you'd like to think, Caterina."
"That's Miss Cardinale to you." She smiled sharply.
Throwing the butt of her cigarette down and squishing it with her heel, Campbell was left glaring at her retreating back, silently swearing he would bring her and her wretched empire to dust.
Still seething from the run in with the Inspector, she slammed the door to her home more violently than usual. Breathing deep, she shrugged down the coat by the entrance, already dreaming of a nice glass of gin to help her finish her paperwork.
That was, until she noticed something was off. There were muddy tracks on the carpet, one pair and freshly stained, that lead right, deeper into the house.
Icy shudder ran over her back - a silhouette moved across the sitting room. Underneath her suit jacked, guns in the leather harness slung over her back tapped comfortingly against her ribs. Eyes wide open and alert, she already reached for one as she slowly kicked the door open.
There by the fireplace, his arms crossed and expression unreadable, stood her brother.
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ
THANK YOU FOR 10K! what a milestone! not even in my wildest dreams could i have imagined such a wild response to my writing.
any predictions about the character of Caterina's brother? let me know in the comments!
cheers to you my dearest readers, and many more to come!