The new living circumstances worked better for downtrodden Verity more than she thought they would. Living with Scarlett was like living with another, chirpier sister she had never known about. Scarlett's hospitality and friendship became a welcome distraction from the travesty of her family life – which was decaying inevitably – like an animal's corpse at the roadside.
A few weeks had passed since Verity had moved in with Scarlett and things seemed to be going well. If the pair weren't at the club, working, rehearsing or writing – they often shopped together, baked things or went for a long stroll. It was a nice breather from every other chaotic aspect of their lives – namely the club.
Unsurprisingly, Eli Valentine had showed up as promised in the club, invited by Tommy in the aftermath of that particular train wreck night at his party. The girls all but stayed clear of the 'business' side of things now – the most they'd done was politely greet the northern club owner before scarpering off to their dressing room to remain out of sight. Considering Scarlett's more than frayed personal relationship with Arthur – the jovial and lighthearted atmosphere from the early days had all but dissipated. Of course, the pair of them had to speak for work – but it was clear that Arthur felt more desperate than Scarlett currently was. Not that Verity was blowing her own trumpet, but she felt she was rather the preventative in stopping Scarlett rushing back into Arthur's arms at his first call. She'd been quite the distraction, allowing Scarlett to focus more on friendships and her social life - showing her there was more to her existence beyond Arthur's touch.
And then there is the issue of the other Shelby brother. Thomas.
Verity has seen him briefly in passing, like wandering past a ghost. The pair hadn't really spoken at all, or had the chance to, since the night after the party. Verity felt she had really gotten somewhere then, only to be pushed back once again by the barbed wire fence surrounding the Blinder's heart.
The only times she saw him at the club were for meetings with Eli and Arthur. But as the weeks had gone on and the meetings had grown more frequent, Tommy's presence seemed to not be required. Verity was confused as to why it made her feel such a pang that she hadn't been able to have a word with him since after the party. She would constantly scold her thoughts and press them to calm down, but it was hard when she growing frustrated and concerned as to why she felt she ... cared.
-
It was early March, the air outside was still a stubborn presentation of the bastard cold. Like a stroppy child it lingered and seemed to not want to leave.
However the warmth of the club, and it's perfect quiet in the day allowed a sanctuary for Scarlett and Verity as they played about with some music ideas. The beautifully ebony grand piano on stage was under Verity's fingertips as she mused some notes together along with what Scarlett was humming. The pair chatted excitedly about lyrical ideas and song structure and melody, all whilst as troubled Arthur Shelby watched on from his office.
He had been desperately trying so hard to do the books himself as of late, getting embarrassed at having to ask for Verity's help all the while. Listening to the two women also didn't help in any way, for every time he heard Scarlett's sweet voice and excitable laughter – he reminded himself that he wasn't the reason for it. He was hurting over losing her romantically more than he thought he would.
Gazing out of the small window from his office, he looked on with a frustration at the two friends. He wanted Scarlett to be crying over him and begging for things to go back to how they were – yet there she laid on the top of the piano, legs crossed and scribbling away in her notebook. His blue eyes studied her coolly, spending a little longer etching over her long, high brunette pony tail. She had changed so much, and he felt that hair was the start of it. It wasn't hard for his mind to think back to his sweet Scarlett, with her wavy platinum blonde ponytail and sweet pink dress, sauntering into his office with all the innocence of a baby deer, yet all the charm and grace of a woman. It confused him why he was so hurt and she was there happier than ever.
He aggressively turned back to the books, as all the numbers on the pages seemed to blur into one black inky splodge.
Then a wet droplet splashed onto the page and he instantly became more infuriated. Men weren't supposed to cry, he was always told – yet here he was, blubbering like a baby. Subsequently, he kicked his office door shut with a rather large bang. The noise singularly disrupted the girls, who looked at each other with concern. Verity gave Scarlett a reminding look – a secret telepathic note to keep her ground.
"I'm sure if he wants us he'll come out and get us." Verity affirmed as she resettled her fingers over the piano keys, nails painted a delicate blue.
"Now I think I've got a good idea for the next line..." she added, Scarlett's grip securing that bit tighter around the pen in apprehension.
-
Some hours later, and Scarlett had gone home for a short while to get herself a bath before her show that night. Remaining at the Eden Club, Verity found herself cleaning glasses as the lazy bartender hadn't done a very good job. She was in her right mind to let Arthur know about it but she wasn't sure if he was in the mood to hear it after his earlier gesture.
As she idly cleaned the glasses until they sparked like crystals, Verity's mind got thinking about her current situation. She knew soon she was going to have to move out of Scarlett's place and find her footing. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy staying with Scarlett – it was a simple fact of impeding on her lifestyle. Sooner or later, be it with Arthur or someone new, Scarlett was going to want to be in a relationship. Verity felt bad hanging around in there like a leech, and decided that finding her own place was probably a good idea. She loved Scarlett dearly and didn't like the thought of infringing on her day to day living forever.
The definitive creak of a door opening caused Verity to glance up from the current glass. She was surprised to see Arthur had surfaced.
As he walked towards the bar, she couldn't help but notice his bleary but red eyes, and the overpowering smell of alcohol. Worse than it usually was. She frowned softly in concern at the state of the eldest Shelby brother, his top button undone and tie slung casually around the back of his neck.
"Verity I need to ask you to help me do the books..." he slurred, to which she quickly nodded. Before she could get a word in edge ways, Arthur slumped against the bar she was currently stood behind and sighed deeply.
"I really fucking miss her."
He didn't have to elaborate.
"I know you do." Verity replied gently, putting the glass on the storage shelf below the bar with a tepid clink. "And she misses you too but... I don't think she'd be happy to see you like this."
Arthur scoffed, sniffling heavily as he pushed the few wild strands of gelled hair back out of his face.
"I'll always fuckin' be like this without her." His voice was so filled with pain that even behind the alcohol she knew it was coming from the heart. He suddenly lifted his head, as if an idea had formed.
"You're staying with her, aren't you?"
"Yes but not long term." Verity replied, a skepticism to her voice. "Why?"
"I need the key you've got to her house."
An instant red flag appeared in her mind. Why the hell would he need that? Could he sound any creepier?
"Whatever for, Arthur?" Verity retorted, her tone rather stern. "She's not seeing you at the moment and if I just allowed you to show up like this she'd probably have a fit."
He instantly dismissed Verity's words with a frown and a shake of his head.
"No," he slurred, "I mean when she comes here tonight - I go to her house and ..." he paused, as if this drunken spur of the moment thing hadn't allowed him to think this plan through far enough. After a few seconds the smuggest smile appeared on his face.
"Pour diamonds all over her fuckin' bed!"
Immediately Verity pulled a face – his sentiment was there but how could she be so sure? The last thing she wanted was to give him the key and he instead goes and upsets Scarlett.
"Arthur how exactly are you going to do that?"
She got her response in the form of Arthur bringing back a rather decent sized bag filled with cut diamonds from his office, she gasped at their beauty as they shone within the black confines of the bag. She could only wonder how much they cost.
"I'm supposed to sell 'em on but fuck it – this means more."
That sentence alone was the straw that broke the camels back – and Verity caved in. His heart was in the right place, despite some slightly radical approaches to a romantic gesture. It was Shelby through and through – luxurious, expensive and dramatic. Those three things happened to be something Scarlett adored.
Passing over the brass house key, Arthur pocketed it excitedly and leaned across the bar to smack a rather unwelcome and admittedly sloppy kiss to Verity's cheek.
"You're a fuckin' star, you know that?" He jeered, and with a plan in place – he swaggered back to his office with a little more life in his step.
-
All night at the club, as partygoers danced and sang the night away – their finest clothes on display and glasses of champagne in their grips – Verity had been planning her evening. As she had performed her set that night she felt rather withdrawn, as her mind had been preoccupied.
She couldn't go 'home' that night – for that was a recipe to intrude. You didn't need to be a genius to work our that Scarlett Ebson would fall head over heels for the likes of Arthur's exuberant gesture. Frankly, Verity didn't want to be around to be kept awake all night.
She stayed behind that night, telling Scarlett she had some things to do – not letting on anything about Arthur's secret plan. Once alone, in a club that was a shell of it's former lively hive, Verity got dressed out of her pretty dusky pink gown and faux fur shawl, stepping back into her casual black a line dress and her camel coat. She was no clearer on her direction for the evening but – she just fancied a walk to clear her head at the least.
Well aware of the dangers of midnight London, Verity pressed on down the practically desolate streets. Of course she saw the occasional car or passerby on the other side of the road but, apart from that she was alone. That loneliness and solitude was for once, greatly welcomed.
She had time to think uninterrupted about her life – mainly her steps for this evening and her accommodation in the coming few days. With her head down, the only sounds were the monotonous clicks of her heels against the side walk – her mind chugging overtime as she tried to solve a million of her problems at once.
Verity had walked probably two or three streets away from the Eden Club, and for the first time since exiting the establishment – she felt the blearing brightness of headlights to the back of her. They became brighter, and accompanied with a loud purring engine. She only turned to see the car once she felt it slowing as it approached, and her guard was up – ready to make a run for it.
"Miss Grant?"
She recognised those tones. The car slowed to a halt at her side, as she clutched her bag tightly in her grasp, not expecting to see of hear from the likes of Eli tonight.
"Hello, Mr Valentine." She greeted out of politeness, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I was just out for a walk." She justified herself, her words coming out with a puff of hot breath on the bitter nighttime air.
Eli Valentine hung out of his window, seated in the back of the car of course – chauffeured by an elderly gentleman. The club owner looked as lavish as ever, with his immaculate black suit, the first few buttons of his crisp white shirt left undone. Most noticeably, a pair of dark shades covered his eyes despite the dark nighttime environment.
"It really isn't safe for you to be out walking on your own, love." Eli remarked, to which Verity scoffed to herself secretly. Since when did he care about her welfare?
"I was actually going to ask whether you'd like to get a drink?" He then piped up, which caught her off guard. "As my way of apologising for my behaviour the other night. I felt I was a bit... heavy in my conversation with you." His voice sounded notably embarrassed at recalling the event.
Well that came as a surprise, she didn't have Eli down as the type to apologise.
"Thank you, but I think it's too late for me to drink." She excused herself, her mind worrying a little about what Tommy or Arthur would think if they found out. Would she be in any sort of trouble?
As she went to walk, Eli reached out and caught her wrist – upon Verity's alarmed reaction, he let go and immediately apologised.
"Sorry - I didn't mean alcohol necessarily, love." He explained, "it would give me peace of mind if you came with me. These streets are bloody brutal at night." His voice was gentle enough, and Verity sighed softly. The thought of a coffee at that precise moment wasn't exactly unwelcome.
"Alright," she relented, "I suppose I could stop for a short while." Her mind decided that getting a drink would not exactly be the crime of the century, and she needed something to do with her time.
With that Eli stepped out of the vehicle and opened the door for the singer, who graciously thanked him and climbed inside the expensively decked out Bentley.
The car carried on, engine humming monotonously as the London streets suddenly started to rush by in the darkness, a blurred disorientation. Verity gazed out of the window, a strange feeling of forbidding in her stomach. She felt something wasn't right about this but could not place her finger on it.
After looking across the seat, Eli caught her gaze and smiled shortly – friendly enough but the fact Verity could not see behind those sunglasses was highly disconcerting.
Inhaling a silent deep breath, she hoped these nervous feelings in her gut were over nothing.