(eleventh shot)
11 | in which something is born and something dies.
Rebecca lent her proper clothes, Bella was shivering as she dressed, the earlier attack still hovering in her mind, the sound of gunfire and the smell of blood. To her surprise on leaving Rebecca's house, Johnny Dogs was there with a car and a smile, Bella couldn't get frustrated because she was in too much pain for that.
The trip to London was silent, Bella was unwilling to speak and Rebecca — who accompanied her — understood perfectly, she had killed again, she knew it was necessary, but her subconscious didn't understand that.
Taking a life was not simple even for someone who was used to it.
The wedding was happy, Italian weddings usually were, Bella kept a smile on her lips all the time because she didn't want anything to ruin Magdalena's happy moment, there was a lot of music and food, but Bella didn't eat or dance, she got a fake smile sitting at the table sipping a few sips of whiskey.
A tall man approached her desk, Bella's face didn't change and she closed the smile on her lips.
She thought she'd seen that face before, but maybe it was just the alcohol working in her head.
"Isabella Andriessen?" She lifted her chin, staring at him.
"Oh." She exclaimed, settling in her chair. "What a surprise. You know my name."
"Sorry about my manner," he took off his hat. "My name is Francesco Sabini."
Bella watched him try to look seductive, gave a mocking smile. Not a good day to deal with vain men.
"That doesn't explain how you know my name." She drank the whiskey, looking away from the hall where the bride and groom danced.
"I don't think there's anyone who doesn't know the woman who killed Victor." Bella remained impassive at his words.
"You also know I had reasons."
"I know. You wouldn't have been forgiven by that family if they didn't know." He pulled up the chair and sat down. The young woman assessed him warily.
"You talk like it's not your family either." Bella commented in a delicate voice that she always used when men needed to be convinced. "I don't participate in my family business, at least not those that involve hard work."
Francesco smiled.
"Good for you." Bella raised her glass.
"Vicenzo told me about you."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Good things, I hope."
"Anything that can be considered bad about you is just a point of view, Miss Andriessen." He leaned against the table and leaned a little closer. "I heard about the theater and the small factory you run in Birmingham." Bella stared at the man seriously.
"I like clarity, Mr. Sabini. If there's anything you want to talk about, say it."
Francesco wet his lips.
"I want to do business." He started. "I will open my own nightclub, and I need people who can handle information."
"Be more specific, Mr. Sabini." She asked in a soft voice.
Francesco cleared his throat.
"That's why I propose a deal."
"I'm listening."
"I need security and management because everything I will do from now on will be independent of my family." He lowered his voice. "I need someone who understands the world I'm about to enter."
"Ya' doesn't want to hire men from other gangs so as not to get ya'name inside the Sabini family and leave the door half open." Bella deduced seeing the man's smile falter. "A woman is easier to deal with, isn't?"
The man leaned back in his chair, his annoying smile growing.
"You're everything they said it would be, Miss Andriessen," he commented and Bella looked away boredly. "You could get more recognition, and I think coming to London is a big step, it could bring your company, too. We'll both make a profit, miss."
His words hit her mind like a hammer in a nail. She had heard of Francesco Sabini, the youngest son, might be a weak branch of the notorious Santini family, but he was still a dear son.
Bella needed a backbone, needed a guarantee, and her business had grown fairly well over the past few months, but for her it still wasn't enough.
However, there was Tommy.
She would have to move to London and did not know if that choice would make him happy. Although lately, she doubted anything made him happy.
"I will give you an answer soon, Mr. Sabini." Her feline eyes smiled along with her red-tinted lips, the man in the chair held his breath finally noticing that there was something malicious and surprisingly attractive about this woman.
He composed himself, giving a nod.
"I will look forward to your response, Miss." He held out his palm and Bella rested her hand over his, Francesco kissed her silken glove skin then put on his hat and walked away.
Bella left the wedding party just before dusk broke in the sky, Rebecca and Johnny getting along so well that they talked all the way. She still thoughtful, would have to do her own research on Francesco Sabini, though the possibility of accepting his agreement was both interesting and dangerous.
It was relatively late when he arrived in Birmingham, Johnny claimed he would take Rebecca home, Bella just rolled her eyes knowing they would do more than they were saying.
She walked thinking about joining The Garrison before going home, but she didn't complete the path. She almost called his name, he was in front of the bar door, but gave up realizing that the barmaid was there too.
The way they looked at each other...
She take a step back, not feeling the sadness or anger she thought she would feel.
Bella wondered what to do, should she go there?
Should she mark territory?
Should she question Tommy about this?
She turned her heels and decided she was too tired to take an initiative without extra help before, and after that she found herself standing in front of Polly Gray's house, knocking on the door.
Polly opened, a small smile gracing her lips as she saw who was behind the door.
"Isabella, shouldn't you be recovering from a shot?" Bella took the needle off her hat, removing it from her head, showing the brown eyes whose edges were reddened from tears she couldn't shed.
"Pol, I need you to make a prediction for me, can you?" asked in a fragile whisper.
Polly sighed, dropping her shoulders as she realized what was happening right away.
"Come in, honey, Aunt Pol will take care of it."
Polly's house smelled of soap and tea, Bella sat on the couch being taken to childhood where she used to smell it often.
The first time she noticed she was in love with Tommy was in this room, she remembered the exact minute he arrived and her heart beat faster than it had before.
Polly sat next to her.
"Give me your hands." Bella took off her gloves, placing her bare hands over Polly's, the woman assessed her palms concentrated and focused.
Bella waited patiently for an answer, for a north.
"There are two paths in front of you, but in the end, they all take you to the same road," Polly began. "In both ways, one short and the other long, whatever you follow, you have to be patient. I see a river and a bridge, a bridge that was caused by someone else's mistake and that will be why your ways will always go on the same road. "
"It looks like there won't be much change." Bella muttered.
"Wrong. There will be changes, just because two paths lead to the same road does not mean that the learning will be the same." Polly explained, and turned her hands, lightly squeezing her fingers with affection. "You're the owner of your own life, but I'll give you some advice anyway: take the long way."
And really, as if it were a spell, Bella knew exactly what to do.
Tommy came to visit her in the next day, before going to the Lee camp, he knocked on her door and she was slow to open. He lit a cigarette and knocked again, when she opened the door, his eyelids lifted and he stared at her, surprised.
Her curly hair was loose for the first time since he returned from the war, her simple dress not unlike what she used to wear when they were young. She leaned against the edge of the entrance and crossed her arms.
"You came early."
"Yes," he answered. "You look better."
Bella gave a succinct smile.
"I look like?" She asked rhetorically, grimly. She nodded to the inner side of the house, pushing back the door. "Come in, I wanted to talk to you already."
Bella's house always smelled of cinnamon and some sweet feminine perfume, she still left the furniture in the same position her grandmother left when she was alive. Even if the house was no longer the same, Tommy had a feeling he'd been there before, when they were younger and everything was less complicated because they were the only ones complicating everything with childish problems.
"Pol said you 'ere with her yesterday. Do ya' need anything?"
He leaned against the window, the sun's rays behind the curtain kissing his cheek highlighting the crystalline color of his eyes. Bella tucked the curls behind her ear.
Bella tucked the curls behind her ear.
"It was no big deal." She went to the kitchen, her house had no room, and if anyone came in the door, this person would have a view of the house almost as a whole if it wasn't for the stairs that led upstairs. "Want coffee? By the way, have you been drinking anything that hasn't had alcohol since you came back from the war?"
"Water." He answered simply, she rolled her eyes. "I don't want coffee, I won't be long, I wanted to see you."
Bella came back, resting a hand on the edge of the couch, giving a tight smile.
"I am fine." She rested her hand on the injured arm.
"You do not look good." He inhaled the smoke from the cigarette.
"All wounds heal one day." Tommy nodded, but his body language showed that he thought too much about those simple words, that he himself had wounds that seemed to be getting worse rather than healing.
But he was him, totally broken, Bella was someone else.
"What did you do with your grandma's house?" He asked suddenly, Bella frowned.
"I gave it to Rebecca, she had nowhere to stay."
"Ya' gave it." Tommy stared at her.
"Yes." Bella responded and rubbing her left calf with the back of her right foot. "Every time I walked into that house, I had the impression that my grandmother was still alive. It was better that way."
"Hm. I have this memory of you saying you would never get rid of that house." reflected the gang leader with his eyes fixed on the street outside the window.
"People change." Bella said, focusing her gaze on one place in the room without really seeing what was there, lost in her thoughts. "Tom?"
He stared at her again with his intense eyes.
"Yes?"
"You can sleep here tonight if you want," she offered. "You look tired."
"I will come." He nodded, put an unoccupied hand in his vest pocket under his suit. "You said you wanted to talk."
"Oh yeah." Bella confirmed, took a deep breath and blew air out of her lungs together with the next words. "I'm leaving Birmingham."
Tommy took his time to react, raised his eyebrows, and shook his head almost imperceptibly.
"Why?"
"I received an advantageous offer, I will accept."
"Who made the offer?"
"Francesco Sabini."
Tommy rubbed his fingers together, looking out the window and then at her.
"The Sabini again?"
“They have no problem doing business with a poor black woman from Small Heath, so why not?”
“The Peaky Blinders also made a deal with you, Isabella.”
“You're my best friend, don't count.”
“That doesn't have value to me when it comes to business. "Tommy insisted, and though there was stillness in his movements, it was easy for Bella to know that he didn't agree. "But it looks like you've already made up your mind."
"I made up my mind last night, spent the night thinking." Tommy knit his eyebrows, noticing the slightly darker stains under Bella's eyes.
The tiredness in their eyes showed that sleeping with each other had become a habit.
"Something more?" He asked, in his mind, hoping not.
"Yes," Bella said and then there was a pause where they both faced each other. "I'm leaving you."
[author's note]
special thanks to all who comment in the last chapter, I hope you can demonstrate your opinion in that chapter too ❤️ don't forget to vote and thanks for reading!