A week had trawled on since the first eye opening meeting. Tommy had been naturally quiet around others, still reflecting on in awe at Verity's skills – how she had gotten him to open up like that. No one ever outsmarted him.
Until now, of course.
The established businessman had a long and drawn out think over the week, anticipating his next appointment - for both good and bad reasons. He'd sit at his over-large and ornate wooden desk, smoking cigarette after cigarette – taking his time and mulling over the options that hung about suggestively in his head as a cheap whore would do at a bar.
Verity had offered a new perspective to Tommy that he did not even know would be possible. Whilst it had him amazed, it also had him deeply confused. He thought he knew himself well, well enough that his past traumas were not to be spoken of – but buried deep like a time capsule. But there he found himself, oddly vulnerable and finding the urge to seek a little more companionship from a woman who clearly saw him on the more complex and thoughtful side of things. He'd never really been with any woman before who had that level of intellect and understand. It was quite admirable. Plus, his loneliness was getting the better of him at the moment.
So, on that wintery, frost bitten Wednesday afternoon, Thomas Shelby once again marched himself down the street towards Number 2, Tenley Street.
He'd taken a quick and humbling hit of opium after leaving his car which he'd parked streets away – as he had done the week before. Sure, Thomas Shelby had been paranoid about seeing a familiar face the first time around – but now, with the extra added drug in his system, the gangster found himself seeing faces of familiar blokes in the cars that drove by. Or a familiar face hidden behind the monotonous black and white print of a newspaper. He panicked, not allowing it too show through to his stoic exterior, as he threw his head down – signature black cap covering his eyes.
There had been one matter Thomas Shelby had been considering quite some bit over the past week, and that was the venue at which he decided to meet with Verity at. There was no other time in his life he recalled feeling quite so vulnerable as this – apart from the war. Emotionally vulnerable. Tommy did not like crawling so far out of his little comfortable burrow at the Arrow Mansion, to traipse all this way into the beating heart of London where he had plentiful amounts of enemies around. Waiting to find a weakness. A weakness such as this one – the seemingly brutal Peaky Blinder's leader attending counselling sessions.
In that moment, his heart palpitations were heavy – the voices in his head muttered low and the last little remnant of his conscience with it's head just above the water made the executive decision to go with his plan.
With a little more urgency in his steps, Thomas Shelby one again came face to face with the coal black front door of Number 2. His fingertip pressed hard on the brass buzzer, listening out carefully for the sound of any footsteps following.
Nothing.
Then suddenly came a voice, from somewhere not too distant from the hallway itself.
"Come in, it's open!"
Following invitation, Tommy pressed the polished handle down and guided the door open at a fluid pace that was completely irrespective of his previous conflicted, panicked and rushed self.
He'd only just set one smart black shoe into the parquet-floored hallway when a child toddled into his path. He could only make a small yell of surprise and halt steadily on the spot, just grateful for the fact he didn't knock the little mite over with the door.
"Harry!" A voice shouted. It was the girl from the other day. The blonde one. Tommy mulled over his recollection of the last appointment and her name sprung to mind. Nina.
She quickly swooped in and collected the little boy up in her arms, as the little terror giggled in a fashion that was so aware of his current naughty toddling to places he shouldn't be wandering too alone.
"Sorry Mr Shelby, he doesn't really have much understanding of personal space at the moment." Nina excused, brushing a stand of her long blonde hair out of her face.
Tommy's lips quirked into a warmed smile as he took a look at that child. He had the same eyes as his mother, a look of giddy innocence on his face. Tommy loved that about children, they were so naïve and unspoiled by the cruel reality of the brutal world.
So even in spite of his rushing and flustering barely moments ago, he always had time to revel in those pure moments of life. Pure moments that were slight, and full of chance – something he had come to learn in such harsh ways.
"He's alright." Tommy eventually replied, the little boy's new grin caused a smile to appear on his own face. It was rare he smiled like that. He remained fixated for a few moments before he felt he needed to snap out of it – lest he leave Nina thinking he was rather strange.
Tommy cleared his throat.
"Well, Dr Grant is ready if you wanted to go on up. She's had no other previous appointments so she's free." Nina said, bouncing the little boy in her arms to amuse him momentarily.
Glancing up at the upward curve of the staircase, Tommy smiled curtly and headed towards the base of the stairs.
"I'm actually supposed to be calling her Verity – apparently." He remarked as he started to head upstairs.
Automatically, an amused snort of laughter emanated from Nina who was clutching her boy at her hip whilst trying to pick up his various toys that were scattered about the floor.
"Oh? Like that is it?" she called back, playing along coyly with the joke – admittedly feeling quite smug that she felt in on it.
Tommy smirked to himself as he wandered higher up that grand staircase, safe knowing his back was to the young blonde woman.
"Suppose so." He replied coolly enough, remaining his composed self so that he didn't let on to others what only he knew. The intentions behind his jokes.
Pacing across the short couple of steps across the landing area to the familiar office door, Tommy rapped his knuckles and barely waited a few seconds before he entered the room – not waiting for the invitation of his psychologist before he barged in.
Stood at the gramophone arranging her records, a boring housekeeping job – Verity hadn't heard him knock and so was humming a sweet tune to herself in her low and crooning tones, her voice like crushed velvet – caressing and beautiful. She'd only noticed him when she physically heard the door opening, and stood up quickly – her red lips buttoned shut and a discerned look on her face, quite embarrassed that he'd heard her.
"Mr Shelby!? Haven't you heard of knocking?"
"I have and I did, love." He remarked in his usual smart arse way. He gazed over at her with a cocky look behind his sky blue eyes. "Clearly it's you that hasn't heard of knocking."
Verity huffed quietly, puffing her chest out as she folded her arms across her chest – her figure wrapped in a willow green long sleeved swing dress and a pair of cream mary-jane style high heels.
"Very funny." She responded, offering a little smile as she relented, calming down. After all, there were worse things she could be doing. "I take it my sister told you that you could come up?" Verity then asked, stepping away from the Gramophone and more towards the centre of the office where Tommy was now stood – looking just as impeccably dressed as the last time. He only ever seemed to wear the most exquisite suits. Verity knew that it was reflective of his pride in his business and hard work.
Upon hearing her statement, Tommy's brows furrowed and he clicked open his little case of cigarettes after fishing them out of his coat pocket.
"Nina? She's your sister?" he asked, placing the cigarette between his lips and eagerly struck himself a match in order to spark up. Verity just stood there and watched as he took the first relishing drags of his cigarette, his cool eyes studying her from behind the veil of smoke.
"I can see it now – you both have the same look about your faces." He said rather vaguely.
Stifling a singular laugh, Verity leaned her weight backwards until her small backside hit the edge of her desk, her legs stretched out in front of her slightly.
"What's that supposed to mean? Could you expand?" she smiled, gesturing her hand out in a coaxing fashion – watching the glimmer of self assuredness glow behind his eyes and his form stand a little taller.
"Same beautiful look." He then said, taking another draw of his cigarette and exhaling it on a long and dismissive breath, as if the thing he'd just said was a generalised every day compliment and had little meaning. He pushed on, which Verity studied with interest considering the cocky way he was choosing to act – pretending if his rather risky and extroverted comments were all subliminal workings of his brain.
"I've got a problem." He then started, walking over to the desk and standing right beside Verity – using the ashtray there to dispose of the ashy burnt end of the cigarette.
"That's why you are here, correct?" Verity replied, turning her head to the right to look at him. It was the first time she'd actually stood this close to her client, noticing things about him she had barely ghosted her glance over before. The prominent shape of his jawline, the way the smirk he often displayed only ever seemed to settle in the corner of his lips – even the strangest things, like the smoky, tobacco-y smell that blended somewhat pleasantly with whatever aftershave he was wearing. Verity alleviated the full focus of her stare, glancing away slightly as he looked her properly in the eye once he was done tapping his cigarette over the ash tray.
"No, a problem to do with my problems." Tommy explained further, bringing the revitalised cigarette back to his fairly pale lips as taking another long draw on it. He exhaled quickly, clearing his throat as he prepared to address his proposition to the psychologist.
"As you are probably aware, Verity," he began, "I'm a man of business. Taking pride in my business. Part of that is being respected." Tommy elaborated, pacing away from the desk and back into the centre of the room, ending up standing on a small floral patterned rug that was adjacent to the roaring fireplace.
He glanced back momentarily to make sure she was still listening – and judging by the intent cocking of her head and wondering look in her hazel eyes – it was apparent she was clearly curious to see what he had to say.
"I know too many men in this city. Men who would think less of me if they saw I was coming here." He said, and in the background – Verity quietly sighed to herself. Men and their fragile masculinity.
Tommy's soft blue eyes flickered up from the hypnotising orange flames of the fire in the hearth and he looked at Verity with some hopefulness.
"I want you to start seeing me at home. Where I like to think I'm not being watched by these men."
The psychologist scoffed to herself – there was no: 'please Verity, would it be possible for you to see me at home?'. It was like he was ordering her.
Perhaps his past as a Serjeant Major flickering through.
"Tommy – I appreciate you have your reputation to worry about." Verity started, resting both hands either side of her hips on the edge of the desk. "But I'm not sure I'll be able to do that... I mean, it's a costly trip and a long drive..." she started to argue, looking down momentarily when all of sudden, a rolled bundle of cash came flying across the room and crashed at her feet. God knows how much cash there was in there.
Dumbfounded, Verity stared between the cash at her feet, and then back up at her client who was just metres away. She was at a loss for words.
"There you go." Tommy said in a matter of fact tone, looking at Verity and then pointing to the notes at her feet, cigarette puffing away steadily between his lips.
"That should more than cover for any travel costs."
Before she could throw anymore arguments his way, Tommy Shelby had turned away, his large black coat swinging intimidatingly with each sauntering step. A man who walked like that was a man who knew what he wanted.
"Tommy you're being incredibly unreasonable-" Verity called after his long stride, snatching up the roll of cash and trying to catch up with him, her heels clicking frantically off the hard floor, as he made his way through the office door.
"Next Friday please, at the Arrow Manor." Tommy responded back, his voice remaining level and ignorant to Verity's whimpers of dispute. It was clear he was not going to take no for an answer.
Suddenly the psychologist felt incredibly stupid for thinking in any way shape or form that this man would be easy to wear down. Her hazel eyes looked down at the tightly rolled cylinder of cash in her hand, her polished rose red nails a pretty juxtapose to the rich green of the notes.
Sighing, she knew she had been defeated. He wasn't going to take anything less than what he wanted. The frustration was evident in Verity's voice as she fumbled mindlessly over her words for a few seconds.
"Well.... Wh-.... What time should I be there then!?" she called to the darkly dressed figure of Tommy Shelby who had reached the bottom of the stairs. Picking his cigarette from his mouth, he donned a secretive smile as he returned:
"Any time. I'll be in all day."
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A/N: I just want to say a quick thank you to everyone that has been reading so far. I really appreciate it. Sorry it's been a bit of a slow start, it will get going soon.