TOMMY SHELBY WAS nervous. He leant against the wall, ignoring all the questions thrown at him by his family. Why is your shirt covered in blood, Thomas? Whose blood is it anyway? Why are we in London? Why are we in a hospital?
He kept his mouth shut and face void of any emotion, waiting patiently for the last person – and particularly the most important person – to arrive, and when he did Tommy swore he could feel every hair on his body stand up in panic.
He had to put on the best performance of his life, knowing that if anyone could see through his acts it would be either Polly or Alfie.
The hallway was clear of people, Evelyn's doctor and nurses having been informed by Tommy of the plan – they didn't understand, but they also wouldn't question a Shelby. Tommy swore them to secrecy, the threat of killing their families and a couple of shilling enough to get all of them to agree.
"Thomas, may I ask why on Earth you made me prematurely leave a business meeting to come to a fuckin' hospital," Alfie spoke gruffly, causing annoyance to roll off the Shelby's in waves.
"Why the fuck is he here?" Arthur spat in disgust towards Alfie, looking at his younger brother.
"Because this news will probably hit him the hardest," Tommy began, looking towards Alfie who was taking in the wrecked state he was in. "It's about our sister, Eve."
Immediately, Alfie's eyes widened and he stood a little straighter. "What about her?"
"She had a run in with a couple of men seeking revenge for her killing their father – they teamed up with Changretta to track her down, finding her at your house," Tommy nodded towards Alfie whose whole stance showed worry.
Polly was the one who interrupted with the question that Alfie couldn't seem to get out, "is she okay?" Taking a shaky breath, Tommy met his aunts scrutinising stare.
"She called me as they busted down the front door, when I got there she was in a pile of her own fuckin' blood – they fuckin' stabbed her and she had bled, a fuckin' lot. She couldn't stay awake when I pulled her into my arms. I had called for an ambulance when I got to London, they got her here as fast as they could but-"
Having enough, Alfie gripped the lapels of Tommy's vest – pushing him up against the wall. "Is she fuckin' okay?" He seethed.
"No, Alfie. She's gone. Evelyn's dead."
Dropping Tommy in shock, Alfie ignored the sharp inhales from the Shelby family around him and gave Tommy one hard shove into the wall for good measure – pacing back and forth before pointing towards him.
"Nah mate," Alfie shook his head, Tommy could practically see the fire burning behind the older mans eyes. "She's not fuckin' dead, innit? Which fuckin' room is my girl in?"
"Why the fuck would I lie to you about this Alfie," Tommy gritted his teeth, hating the sound of Finn and Ada letting out sobs and seeing Polly cry into the arms of Arthur who was trying to hold in his tears. "She lost too much blood. They couldn't save her – she's fuckin' dead!"
"Fuck!" Alfie clenched his fist, before placing his arm against the wall beside Tommy who let his family take in the fake news. Tommy heard Alfie let out a soft cry and reluctantly placed his hand on the mans shoulder in comfort, only for it to be roughly shrugged off.
With one dark look, Alfie stormed away from the broken Shelby family. He couldn't be there surrounded with people when he felt like he was suffocating. As soon as he got outside of the hospital Alfie walked into the alleyway next to it, leaning against the brick wall until he felt his legs give out and he slid down in a heap as he helplessly cried into his palms – letting himself have this moment of vulnerability.
He couldn't believe that his girl was gone. She was dead and he wished he had stayed in London with her that day. He wish that he had held her a little tighter the night before he left, told her he loved her more often, and married her sooner rather than having the both of them wait for 'the right moment.'
He wished he could've saved her.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Funerals were almost a common occurrence for the Shelby family, they often lost more than they gained and those loses tended to be the ones they loved.
Evelyn had always said that she wanted to have a proper funeral in a church rather than go off in the smoke like the rest of her family. Nobody initially understood why she insisted on be buried, but now they did – it provided closure. The knowledge that they could visit any time they wanted to talk to someone, even if she couldn't respond supplied a comfort that they wouldn't receive the conventional way.
"Even in death, she's putting us before herself," Ada had mumbled as they all stood around her grave after her funeral, the vardo with all Evelyn's belongings still burning in the distance.
Alfie hadn't brought himself to go to the burial, he couldn't watch them put the love of his life in the ground – but he had been to visit her every day since for three weeks, deciding to stay in Small Heath for a while so he wouldn't be far from her.
"Hey angel," Alfie whispered as he took a seat on the grass, placing the new bouquet of roses he had purchased on the way to visit Evelyn next to the multitude of others that people had left on the dirt. "I know you would curse me for buying yer' fuckin' roses, 'they're a bloody cliché Alf', you would say, yer' would. But you would have to forgive me and accept 'em because I'm the one who bought 'em for you."
Alfie's heart broke at the fact that his girl didn't reply back to him – even though he knew it wasn't physically possible; a lone tear sliding down his cheek before he harshly wiped it away.
"I'll find 'em," he stated, his gaze hardening as he stared out into the fields that Tommy had told him you would go horse riding in. "I'm going to find those fuckin' pieces of no good men and kill every last one of 'em for takin' you away from me before I could officially make you my fuckin' wife. You hear me, love? I'll make 'em pay."
Alfie sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the birds chirp from the trees around him – the cold wind chipping at his skin through his thin shirt. Alfie knew that to everyone around him he looked like a mess, after telling his men the news that you were gone Alfie had vanished, leaving the distillery in the hands of Ollie while he grieved in fucking Birmingham of all places.
The sound of footsteps approaching perked at Alfie's ears but he didn't turn around to see whose they were – if it was the enemy, they could gladly take him out now; put him out of his misery of having to live in a world without Evelyn Shelby. Instead, he watched Polly Gray take a seat on the dirty ground next to him, her sunglasses obviously covering up her bloodshot eyes.
The pair don't speak as they sit there, next to the girl that they once both would've risked their lives to save – it was Polly who broke the tranquil, yet tense quiet first.
"You haven't stopped waiting for her, have you?" Polly's tone was soft, not expecting a reply from the Jewish gangster who she never would've been caught dead having a civil conversation with. "Your heart still skips a beat when the phone rings and you get that sinking feeling when it's not her who's calling. You're still waiting. You'll always be waiting, but she wont come back and you know it."
Alfie didn't respond, how could he when both he and Polly knew that she was right?
"I lost a niece and a nephew in the span of a couple of weeks," Polly continued, her voice signalling that she was close to crying but wasn't going to let herself.
Running a hand through his beard, Alfie finally turned his head to look at the older woman, noticing just how tired and broken she was. She was strong, Alfie knew that from the way Evelyn spoke about her aunt, and he was starting to think he didn't have half the strength Polly has.
"Yer' know," Alfie began, his voice void of almost all emotion. "When I imagined her coming down the aisle, it was in this beautiful dress – her hair done up in that messy but presentable style that she does. She would have this radiant smile on her face and I, being the lovesick fool I am, would burst into tears at the sight of her looking so beautiful. I didn't picture her comin' down the aisle in a fuckin' casket."
Polly took a deep breath at Alfie words, her hand reluctantly reaching over to rest upon his right hand that was still gripping the bundle of roses. The reassurance that they both weren't alone in the loss of someone they loved deeply needed in that moment.
"I've promised to find the men who've done this," Alfie muttered, still slightly reserved and hesitant in talking to Polly – but Alfie knew that out of everyone in Evelyn's family; if there was someone she would've told him to trust it would be her aunt Pol.
Nodding once, Polly squeezed Alfie's calloused hand. "Are you ready for another war?"
"The same war – just a different enemy," Alfie concluded, moving to stand up, gripping his cane in his left hand, his hips protesting against moving. "She would never shut up about you, you know?"
Polly's eyebrows rose at Alfie's statement, before she followed his lead and stood – brushing the dirt off her pants.
"The first time we met she brought up how you taught her which artery to stick a fuckin' fork in – sounded an awful lot like a threat" Alfie chuckled fondly at the memory, shaking his head as he watched the tears finally leave Polly's eyes. "She would find any reason to bring yer' up. Couldn't get 'er to shut up about how amazin' 'er aunt Pol is, I couldn't."
"I still don't trust you," Polly softly spoke smiling sadly towards Alfie, watching as he began to walk away from her. "If Eve was still here, I would've probably helped Tommy break you two up before it came time for you to get married. But, I don't think that girl has loved anything as much as she loved you, you should know that."
Slowing down, Alfie looked at Polly one more time.
"Understood, yeah," he shrugged. "Maybe one day I'll see 'er again, because if the world thinks it can keep a love like ours apart, then it hasn't been paying attention innit? Because there is nothing. Nothing. I wouldn't do just to stand by her side one more time – you tell Thomas that too, aye."
Walking away from a seldom Polly Gray, both of them knew that was the last time they would speak to one another without threats to kill.