" 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘?" Caterina stared at Tommy incredulously. "That's the worst bloody name you could've given it. How about, The Reckoning Day?"
"December the third, mark it down on your calendar — that's the day we enter the big shot world."
"Don't know if you heard Shelby, I'm already a big shot." She hid her playful smirk behind a cloud of smoke.
He stared at her from across the table, head cocked to one side as if trying to understand how he found himself in this situation; there was a beautiful woman by his side, a full glass of fine whiskey on the table in front of him, and the smell of freshly lit cigarettes lulled him in a soft daydream.
If he closed his eyes for a moment, he could turn the wheel of time back to when he was truly happy, content with the life he lived.
"Who else knows about it?" Caterina's question snapped him out of his musing.
"Just you, me and Grace. I've made her my secretary, now that the work is expanding."
Expansion, a prolific word he used so often these days. Opening his eyes, he glanced over the table. Caterina swayed gently to the music coming from the other side of the pub, dainty lashes fanning her rosy cheeks.
He smiled, unintentionally, mirroring her own.
*:･ﾟ♛･ﾟ:*
"It's gone."
Caterina blinked, lowered herself into the chair behind her and then looked at Mazza again. "Everything?"
"To the last barrel." The enormous man scrunched up his face in distaste, letting out another string of strong Italian curses, making her wince. "I told you Caterina you had no need to meddle with pezzonovanti such as Billy Kimber!"
Nerves churned her gut and for a brief moment she contemplated disappearing into thin air instead of facing the consequences of her own decisions.
"Impossible, no one knew about Liverpool save us in this very room. Damn it, and now of all days..."
What little string held up the plan drawn out for December 3rd seemed to snap in the worst possible time, and it seemed to get worse as the time progressed.
It was well past nine o'clock and the company office was slowly filling up with men — good men, steeled by war and work, most of them Italian born before they sought their fortune in England.
She observed them while they took their seats around the room, animatedly recounting last week's football game, or a boxing match. They leaned on the doors, smoking and laughing and cursing, their pockets full of ammunition, guns slung over their shoulders and pistols resting by their ribs.
Some were bakers, some owned shops and market stalls, they were butchers and tailors but they all shared one virtue that mattered; they were willing to put down their lives for her cause.
When the clock struck nine thirty she stood up and cleared her throat, effectively silencing them.
"This morning our warehouse in Liverpool was ransacked by the police, arresting everyone they found on site, taking all we held there, and returning the warehouse to the previous owner, Billy Kimber."
Trying to be heard over the murmurs of discontent that spread over the room, Caterina raised her voice, continuing her speech.
"We lost more than one hundred barrels of fine gin that was supposed to ship to America by the end of the month, worth thousands of pounds, right in the hands of a man that can't even count his wealth. We were unjustly robbed — they took your wages, your future and the future of your children." She poured the boiling rage that cooked in her bosom into her words, taking a moment to look into eyes of every man in front of her.
"For far too long we have stood in the shadow of tyrants such as him, rich men, gamblers, who know nothing of the life of a working man. Today we change that."
"You'll be joining the Lee's and the Peaky Blinders to the Worcester races. There, you'll evict every single bartender, every liquor distributor on sight. Burn their licenses, confiscate their booze, use force if needed. Among yourselves speak la nostra lingua, let them know who we are." The firm set of her jaw was enough to convince the men to obey her orders. Bald heads, cap clad heads, heads with slicked back hairs, they all nodded in unison.
"Make them fear us. And tell them Caterina Cardinale now owns the business."
*:･ﾟ♛･ﾟ:*
Down in the Small Heath, Tommy Shelby held a very similar family meeting. He coughed sharply, raising one hand to call for silence.
"I've brought you all here today because today's the day we replace Billy Kimber. This is the day we become respectable. The day we join the official National Association of Race Course Bookmakers. But first we do the dirty work."
There was a degree of pride in his voice, in spite of everything that was yet to happen.
"We've all known its been coming, I just haven't told anyone the date. We're going to the Worcester races. The track opens at one, we get there at two. Now, Kimber thinks we're going there to help him fight the Lee brothers. But thanks to the efforts of our John and his lovely new wife Esme, the Lees are our kin. I interrupted those efforts this morning and, er, I can assure you all, John is making great sacrifices in the name of peace."
Laughter spread over the family members as Tommy revealed the nature of John and Esme's morning liaisons. John blushed a deep red, mumbling in embarrassment. "Yeah, all right."
Chuckling, Thomas continued. "The Lee's will be joined by our allies, the Clarke family who will be taking over the alcohol distribution points. I've been assured by the head of the family they'll be on our assistance if needed."
"What about Kimber himself?" John piped up.
"I'll deal with Kimber." Tommy assured him, looking around the room. "Any questions?"
It was Polly that spoke up. "Yes."
"Does anyone object if I bring a newcomer to the meeting?" Polly asked as she walked to the door that separated the shop and the house.
Confusion turned into surprise once Ada appeared at the door, cradling a sleeping Karl in her arms. Booming applause rounded the room, John and Arthur being the loudest among them.
Even Tommy smiled. "Welcome home, Ada."
"We named him Karl," Ada looked around sheepishly. "After Karl Marx."
Arthur hollered at that, coming closer to take a peak at his sleeping nephew. "Karl bloody Marx. Let me get a look at him."
He placed his peaked hat on Karl's little head, taking him from Ada's arms and holding him up carefully. "Hey, look he looks just like me."
John was quick to jab back at him. "That's his arse that looks like you, Arthur."
The oldest brother grinned, cradling Karl closer to him. "He's alright," he gave a reassuring nod to Ada. "He's a Shelby."
A gust of emotion flew over her, and Ada felt like she was going to cry.
"Well, Ada," Tommy started. "Am I forgiven?"
The petite woman bit her lip, searching his face for some kind of falsehood. "Cat told me, about Freddie. If what she says is true then you are."
"It's true." Those words were enough for his sister to throw her her hands around his neck, hugging him tightly. She burrowed her nose in the lapel of his suit jacket, murmuring a soft thank you.
"Then there's only one person more missing," Ada gave her brother one pointed look, not missing the way he averted his gaze to the floor before following the others out of the room.
*:･ﾟ♛･ﾟ:*
"Kimber employed Changretta's men for protection. We can't risk a war between our families." Caporegime Arnoldo Bastiani piped up from his position on one of the leather chairs on the other side of Caterina's desk. Others filtered out of the room, leaving only the higher ups to discuss the details of the battle plan.
Caterina nodded in agreement, aware of the precariousness of the situation. "No, we can't. Do not harm any of their men if you come across them, or at least don't make the first move. If they pursue action, harm enough to demobilise, not kill."
"And what about Kimber?" Asked Mazza.
She plucked a cigarette from the pack in one of the overflowing drawers of her desk. "I'll deal with Kimber."
He was not convinced at all, and it showed in the unimpressed look on his face.
"I have a plan." Caterina assured him, desperately trying to sound confident.
"That's what worries me the most."
*:･ﾟ♛･ﾟ:*
After seeing the three dozen men bound for Worcester off, Caterina made her way to The Garrison with the ones that remained — a few boys and older veterans — there mostly for her protection.
She let them fraternise, bond and bicker over pints with Shelby men while she, without a word, seated herself on one of the tables in the middle of the room, keeping an eye on them.
More men filtered into the pub, the Blinders, followed by the three Shelby brothers in their best attire.
"All right lads, listen up. You have a pint and a chaser, no more. On the house." Tommy called, already rolling up his sleeves to help Grace pour the drinks for the men.
A look of quiet intensity passed between two friends. Grace was first to avert her eyes, letting the curtain of her blonde tresses cover the budding blush of embarrassment painting her cheeks. Returning to the glasses in front of her, she clutched the cloth in her hand just a bit firmer.
Grace knew Caterina knew, and the silence was enough to eat her alive.
On the other end of the bar, Arthur struggled with passing round pints of beer to the waiting men.
"Here, Arthur, let me help you."
The oldest Shelby brother threw her a wink, stepping aside to let her pass behind the bar. He threw one of his long, lanky arms around her shoulders, making her lough aloud when he tousled her hair playfully.
"There's my little lady. Lookin' grim for such a splendid day."
"Someone has to be worrying for you rascals," Caterina grinned, swiping the spilled drink with a cloth. Arthur replied with a laugh, though it seemed hollower now.
"Arthur. Are you really okay?" A tense smile played on his lips, but it did not quite reach his eyes.
"I trust Tommy. I trust his plan. He's always been the cleverer one." The utmost faith in his voice startled her, though she knew it shouldn't have. If there was one thing she knew for certain about the Shelby brothers, it was the fact that John and Arthur had more faith in Thomas than the God above.
A black preacher she came to know as Jeremiah Jesus threw open the door of the Garrison, pushing another man inside. His face showed concern as they entered, Jeremiah searching for Thomas among the milling crowd.
"Right tell him what you just told me." Jeremiah poked the man at his side, gesturing in Tommy's direction.
"Just heard two vans driving up the Stratford road. An old corporal of mine said he recognised some of the men. He said its Kimber boss and they're heading this way."
Silence. Shock. Then uproar.
Thomas met her eyes from other side of the counter, equally thrown off with that single piece of information. The string was broken, and they were truly, most definitely, fucked.
"We've been fuckin' betrayed."
From his place by the bar, Thomas immediately bolted to the door. For a moment Caterina was left speechless, unable to form a coherent track of thoughts, the only person who could shed some light on the reversal of the situation having gone through the pub door. Weighing her options, she ran out, following after Thomas.
He rushed into Watery Lane, bursting into number 4, with Caterina hot on his heels.
Ada was dozing off in the sitting room, little Karl snuggled by her breast. Thomas, ever so tactfully, shook her awake. "Ada, wake up." His sister blinked up blearily, eyes darting between Tommy looming over her and Caterina by the door.
Caterina rolled her eyes at him, instead helping Ada stand up and put Karl into his trolley. "Ada, go to Bull's Ring, where there's lots of people. We've been betrayed."
Thomas nodded, running a hand through his short hair, pulling at it out of stress. "Someone let slip."
"Kimber's men are on their way here. It's just us, all the Lees are on their way to Worcester. We're outnumbered." He paced the length of the room.
"Fuck!"
Polly appeared in the doorway, lips tightly in a line. "Who else knew that today was the day you were moving on Kimber? You said you kept it a secret. Who else did you tell?"
"I knew, but you know very well it wasn't me." Caterina's eyes snapped to Thomas who nodded in agreement.
"I also told-" A dawning realisation passed over his features, like a bucket of icy water, freezing the blood in his veins. It was difficult to even utter her name now.
"Grace."
"There's only one thing that can blind a man like you Tommy." Polly's expression bordered with pity. "A pretty face."
A string of Romani curses escaped his lips, followed by a groan of exasperation. "Fuck, Pol."
"No, no Polly - no she-" words failed Caterina, but the cogs of her brain presented her with the series of coincidences that occurred in the last months.
Everything fit perfectly — an Irish inspector arrives in Birmingham, on the king's order, only for a mysterious Irish barmaid to come knocking for a job in pub that served none other than the Peaky Blinders. How coincidental, she befriended her in an instant, slowly unraveling the information she needed to destroy her.
Dozens of fragments of conversations invaded her mind, memories, mindless chatter, all revealed at once — every playing card suddenly turned and placed on the table.
"What's in Liverpool?"
"A warehouse, just business."
"I made Grace my secretary-"
"And who are the Peaky Blinders? Why are they so infamous?"
"And where do you keep them?"
"I can help you with the books, if you want."
"I'll deal with Grace. If any of you set your eyes on her again you might kill her." Polly concluded gravely, aware of the impulsiveness of both Tommy and Cat.
"Fuck, I should've known."
There was stinging in her eyes, traitorous tears accumulating in the corners. The room spun threateningly though she remained fixed to the same spot.
But it couldn't have been Grace! Her mind screamed in protest. Not Grace, no — it had to be someone else, someone-Grace would never!
She's my friend.
She let her inside her home, her heart, her life because she seemed good, and for once she hoped she deserved some of that good in her life.
She was my friend... Was she?
Betrayal was an icy cold knife, twisting and turning its way into her heart, turning what started off as surprise, denial and pain into something vicious, a painful rage she hadn't felt in years.
Thomas raged, one hand gripping his dark hair in frustration
Caterina still stood, unmoving like a statue with her hands gripping the back of a chair. "Did you sleep with her?"
The lack of expression threw Thomas off guard. "I did."
"Didn't expect any less." She snapped spitefully. "Men tend to prioritise their cock over their brains."
"Cat-"
Caterina snapped her head in his direction, and he could finally see the blazing anger illuminating her eyes.
"I trusted your judgement. I put the lives of my men in your hands, Thomas Shelby!" She was close enough he could feel the perfume she emanated, sweet scent of roses mingling with smoke.
"Stay with Ada and the baby. I'll end this." He stared down at her, trying to patch up the mess he made, only to inflame her once again.
"What? I will not! You've done enough already."
"I didn't say it was arguable." He tried to rest a hand on her shoulder only for her to shrug it off in annoyance.
"You expect me to sit quietly while you and John and Arthur risk your lives? Load of bullshit if you ask me," her lip split at some point, from all the anxious pricking it endured — a nervous tick she developed in childhood and couldn't get rid of now.
"Kimber's got Italians, Changretta's men with him. I know most of them personally, they might have a change of heart when they see me."
"They might kill you on the spot," he tried to reason, futilely. Little could dissuade a woman scorned, and Caterina Cardinale was by all means that.
"A risk I'm willing to take, Shelby."
*:･ﾟ♛･ﾟ:*
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ
part one of the season finale - what do you think so far?
tell me your hopes and theories!