17
These days, it seemed that Ana would have no peace. Her time was filled with tea and coffee either with her Aunt or her mother, or of tedious dinners with the priest and sometimes the MP too. It was rare that she would have a minute to herself, though it was probably best, she thought, as she didn't need anymore time in which she could recede into her own mind, thinking of everything that was going on.
She hadn't spoke to John since that night. She hadn't given her mother an answer. She hadn't given her Aunt a chance to involve her in the business with the priest any more than she already was. Ana was living in a constant state of sleep, drifting through the monotonous days emotionless and unbothered.
Tonight would be different though. Tommy Shelby would be at the dinner table, and after everything that had happened, she didn't know how she would be able to sit there silent again.
Ana stepped through the doors to the Ritz with her sister on her arm. It was her uncle's favourite place to dine out, and he often came on his own, despite the fact that it was becoming increasingly obvious that his riches were nowhere near as large as he claimed. It was Ana's first time at the Ritz and she couldn't help but feel at home within the private room they had acquired. It reminded her of her father's favourite restaurant back home.
"How do you keep quiet after all that you know?" Ana leaned toward her sister as her eyes placed themselves on the priest who sat opposite the two.
"The same way you stopped yourself from feeling for John Shelby." Tatiana was smirking, and Ana sent a playful glare her way. "A little bit of work. But us girls know a lot about patience."
"Drink, Tatiana? Anastasiya?"
She grimaced, nodding and watching as he poured the wine into her glass, following up with Tatiana's as she said, "A little."
Neither of them would drink it.
"Naughty girls." The slimy tone of voice sent shivers down her back.
The rest of her family, but Ana blocked them out. Even the sound of her sister's voice distracted her. She couldn't help but think of what her mother had said, of the claim she had made. It rang around her head at all mentions of any sort of business or action.
The banging of the door sent echoes through the room, silencing any conversations immediately. Tommy Shelby eventually staggered through, his steps unusually unorganised and nothing like his normal, purposeful walk. He looked more like a child, new to his feet, rather than an elegant tiger, prowling through the room as if he owned it.
"Sorry I'm late, I eh," Tommy said, his voice coming out in rasps, as if out of breath. "There was a body on the line."
He fell messily into the only spare chair, at the table next to the priest. His face remained behind the lip of his flat cap, only his smooth chin peaking out to anyone but Father Hughes, who could see his side in full view.
"Drink, Mr Shelby?" He offered, but Tommy shook his head. "No, thank you. It was drink that caused half this trouble." His attempt at humour came off as bitter. "I have come here to apologise."
Ana and Tatiana shared an attentive glance. There was sweat dripping across his jaw, his skin awfully purple and blotted. But as the priest spoke, his head lifted, letting the two, who were straight across from him, catch a glimpse of his eyes. Puffed and bloodshot, his dark eyes stared at the table, his jaw clenched as he listened carefully.
"I have already explained that you now realise that your absurd allegation against me was false," said Father Hughes, his face no more arrogant as it always was. "And that your base nature made you rash. And that now, once again, our plan is back on track."
He made a point of glancing around the table, his speedy eyes glazing over their faces. Father Hughes barely faltered as he passed Ana, shuffling over her as if she hadn't once been a threat to him as Tommy had been.
"When a child in my care commits a sin, first of all, he confesses, as you just did. And then I instruct him to perform penance in a manor of my choosing." He was speaking down to him quite clearly. No one dared speak. "As a child you went to church?"
Tommy managed to force out a croaked, "Yes.", his eyes staring straight toward the table still, though his peak cap was pulled lower, reaching over his nose. He was shuffling too, in his seat, never stopping still for more than a second as his hands reached to scratch his nose or wipe his lips.
"Do you remember the Act of of Contrition?
He nodded, his face ticking slightly. Tommy looked like he had been snorting drugs- which he most probably had been. But it was more than that, Ana noticed. His face was contorted, his body bending over in the chair too, as if he were sick. Tommy nodded.
"Good," the priest said. "Do you remember the words of the Act of Contrition?"
"Yes," he said, his voice quiet.
"As your penance, I would like you to recite it now, in the presence of our associates."
"Haven't you done enough?" Ana barked out.
The whole table couldn't breath, and yet they said nothing. There was a pinch to her thigh and Ana hissed our in pain, snapping her hand over her sister's.
"I don't know what you mean," Father Hughes said, remaining hauntingly calm.
"No, no." Tommy stopped them, beginning with his penance. "Oh my God, I am heartily sorry for having-"
"Instead of 'God', say my name," the priest drawled out. "Since it was me you offended with your false allegations."
"Father Hughes, I am heartily sorry for having offended you, be Jade of your just punishment but most of all, because they offend you." He spluttered our a cough. "Father Hughes, who art all good and deserving of my love, I firmly resolve to... With the help of your grace, to sin no more and to avoid all near occasions of sin."
"Hmm. Very good. Thank you. Amen." He turned to the rest of the table. "And now that we are a united band once more, perhaps we could order some food."
There was a murmur of agreement before eyes fell, once again, to Tommy, who's hands were gripped against the edge of the table. He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I am not feeling well. I have to go. Good night."
Tommy stood abruptly, pushing himself to his feet with a wobble before advancing across the room. They watched in silence as he left as messily as he came, his feet stumbling as if he were drunk.
"Mr Shelby," Tatiana called after him, her brows furrowed, but he didn't listen, instead disappearing around the door.
"Now, let's eat!" The priest said, calling over a waiter and listing out his orders for the table.
Ana turned to her sister. Tatiana still appeared worried, her eyes downcast and she fed by heavy brows. Perhaps she did care, even if it was only a little bit, but it would last long.
"I don't think I can," Ana whispered, motioning to the MP and priest who were first to tell of their food orders.
"Then make yourself. I don't care if you're sick. Don't let him look at you like that." Tatiana shook her head and straightened her back.
"You saw his face," Ana pressed. "They don't care."
She was thinking of what her mother had told her again, about the betrayals and deceit that ran deep in the family. It certainly appeared that way tonight, with the lack of action toward Tommy Shelby's behaviour.
She was torn at two ends. They had no reason to care for an outside party, but that didn't mean they shouldn't. But on the other hand, they could be as happy at his submission as the priest was. It confused her to no end.
"Or they are doing what you must do. Act as if it never happened," Tatiana said.
It would always be the same: a constant game of who to trust and who to avoid. Ana didn't think she would ever break free of it. All she could do was to make sure she would win. If she couldn't trust any member of her family, not even her mother, then she would trust herself, and herself only. But that would mean playing the game first. And playing very hard.