A hazy smog gathered on the surface of the canal's murky waters, the early morning air around crisp and cold despite the previous hopes of a spring snap. It always seemed this Birmingham home seemed to make anything bleak and bitter again for Thomas Shelby.
Back to the brick wall, Tommy smoked a cigarette silently, eyes surveying the stilled canal boats moored upon the grimy brown waters, the sounds of birds almost going amiss in the air that was filled with industrial clamour from somewhere close by - some metallic bashing, and calling shouts of a bloke commanding some apprentice.
Strange, despite all this, Tommy found some peace in solidarity. His mind was racing to collect up a million things, to find an answer he so desperately sought.
An answer to his guilt, more than anything.
"How did I know I would find you here?"
Tommy's head snapped to the direction of the soft voice, and the initial guard of alarm his body put up slackened at the sight of dear Ada Shelby.
"A good guess." Tommy replied dryly, eyes on the ground momentarily before casting out once again over the water, the image of his sister adorned in her large fur coat lingering on the periphery of his eyes.
"Or instinct." Ada replied with a slight smug scoff, stepping closer as her heels crunches on the blackened gravel. Leaning her back against some stacked crates, she sighed and settled her concerned eyes on the figure of Tommy.
"What's on your mind?" She started, knowing that wasn't going to be easy to get out of Tommy. "Aunt Pol says you called ..." even Ada wasn't sure how to address Verity? What exactly was she to Tommy? More than a whore or a toy, judging by the troubling that rippled behind his oceanic eyes the previous day at Arthur's accusations.
"... you called Miss Grant." Ada eventually settled, clearing her throat. "You don't think it's her?" She asked honestly, her rich brunette hair rolled into clustered curls.
His chest exhaled a laboured sigh, as Tommy took a moment to find a gap between the crazed rushing of ruminations in his mind to respond.
"I don't think she would." He responded, "in fact I know she wouldn't." His voice cracked as he responded. Yet instead of confidence in his gaze, there was instead an abundance of troubled sadness. Ada's confusion only heightened.
"That's good isn't it Tommy?" She asked, cocking her head when his expression didn't change. "So why do you still look lost?" She dared to ask, and the moment she did Tommy's eyes fell away, crumbling like a burnt bridge. He could not stomach himself to even acknowledge the way he was feeling, and how months of guilt now consumed him like a beast every time he thought of Verity. His brutish selfishness was his ultimate undoing, and it appeared it had reached its full bloom at an unnecessary time, considering all that had happened with the Eden.
Tommy swallowed hard, taking another drag on his cigarette which smoked away passively between his fingertips.
"I don't even understand it myself." He instead replied, how could he ever expect to tell Ada when he didn't even want to realise the full extent of what he had done with himself?
Ada nodded somewhat solemnly, a quiet pressing falling on the two moments later before she decided to shift - she had known Tommy all her life and knew when he needed time for himself.
But as usual, she knew deep down he was not letting on the full extent of what was going on in that clouded maze of a mind.
-
Back at the Arrow House, the day was ambling by slowly as Verity tried to keep young Charlie occupied as well as herself.
The two had a long ride on the horses in the morning, did some baking in the early afternoon and now found themselves in the snug living room - Verity writing some lyrics down in her notebook whilst Charlie read one of his story books he loved so dearly.
"What are you writing?" The young boy asked, pulling himself from the world of knights and dragons for one moment to see Verity jotting down small phrases that sounded pretty to her as lyricisms.
She wished she could answer, but she wasn't even sure herself. She felt so lost at the moment, and with the Eden perished she was so unsure of her future as a singer. Not to mention the way Scarlett had been acting on the morning after the party. Verity's mind was racing over a million different things and she found herself struggling to articulate what she was even doing.
"Just... just some words," she replied, sighing at how simple it sounded, "some words I think are pretty." She smiled, closing the notebook up slowly. Strangely enough, the book was rather private. Sure, most of it was song material but they came from experiences - heart break, lust, tragedy - things a young boy didn't need to know about, that was for sure.
"Pretty words?" He asked, sounding genuinely interested.
"For songs, maybe." She smiled, "words that paint pretty pictures in your head." Verity simplified, not wanting to go into the logistics of her work with young Charlie at this time.
The boy accepted this answer, and returned happily to his book. He was silent for some time, when he eventually sighed.
"I wonder when daddy will be home." He hummed with a musing tone, one which Verity could resonate with.
"Yes, I wonder." She responded quietly, tapping her nails on the outer leather case of her bound notebook - when from outside the room she heard the loud and grand chiming of the front door. Like a guard dog, her senses prickled and she wondered who had any sort of business? Tommy had asked Francis to clear any appointments before he left, who might this be?
Moments later, the maid in question had answered the door and her voice sounded friendly and well acquainted with the person at the door. Unable to keep herself back, Verity whispered for Charlie to stay there as she headed out to the hallway.
"Mr Solomons! I'm afraid Mr Shelby isn't home." Francis explained, as the figure of a well dressed man wearing a long black coat and scarf stepped into the hallway.
"Well thanks, Love." He started, his tone a staple cockney drawl. "Seems like the bastard's tryna' avoid me, see? I call all his fuckin' offices to be told he ain't around." The man labelled as Mr Solomons exclaimed. "I've got more chance of seeing the fuckin' Loch Ness monster at this rate."
Curious, Verity stepped out flush into the hallway, her hands linked across her stomach.
"Mr Shelby is in Birmingham on business." Verity further enforced, her eyes glinting with protective curiosity. The last thing she wanted was unwelcome company shouting and swearing in the hallway, and she wasn't letting Francis potentially feel pressured or uncomfortable. She had heard the name 'Solomons' thrown around before by Scarlett and Arthur mainly ... it appeared this must be the man they talked of.
"Look, darlin'." Mr Solomons now looked at Verity, "I don't 'ave the fuckin' foggiest who you are but Tommy boy owes me a big favour." He added, frowning softly.
"Can it not wait til he returns?" Verity countered, stepping a few paces closer to the doggish looking male who looked as if he'd seen his fair share of ugly business and scraps. His eyes trailed over Verity suspiciously, his jaw shifting irritably.
"I'm afraid I can't love." He then replied with a solid tone that was not to be bargained with. "I feel if I leave it any longer, our little Tommy is gonna forget he owes me."
Sighing, Verity guessed they had a visitor for some time then until Tommy returned home.
"Well, in that case - what do you drink?" She instead offered, with a courteous smile and a side glance to Francis that she was dismissed.
-
The stoic grandeur of Tommy's office felt the only appropriate place to get better acquainted with the man Verity now learned was now more commonly known as Alfie.
Handing him a glass of Tommy's fine whisky, Verity took a seat on the leather sofa opposite Mr Solomons, clutching her own glass of gin and tonic.
"So.. who exactly are you then, love?" Alfie asked, rolling his lips together as his eyes scanned the fitting form of her grey dress. "Tommy's PA or summat?" He queried, the suggestion rousing a small burst of laughter from Verity.
"He wishes." She returned with a smile, "whats this favour he owes you so desperately?" She pressed on, curious to know. The blunt direction of her question made the Jewish man chuckle somewhat.
"How do I know I'm safe to tell you that, love?" His sniggered, "have you seen Tommy's nasty side? Don't fancy being on the receiving end of that, do we?"
He was right, but Verity was quietly confident she now resided comfortably on his good side. The vigour of his kiss long resonated on her lips and that was a sure enough sign she had sweetened him somewhat.
"You can trust me." She gave in finally, "I work for the company." Verity added, which wasn't exactly a lie.
Alfie's eyes then brightened and his somewhat rigid stature relaxed a little.
"Oh! Then you might know about the deal?"
She nodded vaguely, deciding if she was going to find out what he'd done now it was best to play the knowledge card.
"I've been involved with a few deals recently and he doesn't always give me the full details." She laughed it off, resting her gin glass on the small table aside of the sofa as her hands rested on her knee.
Alfie nodded in understanding, leaning back against the sofa as his hands rested on the brass top of the cane he took with him almost everywhere.
"It weren't a very pleasant deal," he sniffed, taking a rather noisy gulp of the alcohol, "he asked me to eliminate someone's business." Alfie started, so blissfully unaware of who he was talking to - and the trust he was about to burn to less than ashes.
"That doesn't exactly sound surprising." Verity replied, she could see Tommy dojng such a thing...
"Yeah, seemed a nice girl too so it was bit of a rough job." Alfie chuckled, "but it's easy enough to ask the right fellers to spread a bad word. Bet it crushed the lass though, y' know?" He explained, smacking his lips together as his brows furrowed. "Quite an affluent job too if I remember..." he sighed to himself, "what the fuck was it she did..." he grizzled, Verity sat opposite hanging on every word of this dirty detail.
So oblivious for the axe that was about to swing right for her heart.
"Law? Medicine?" Verity suggested to try and jog his memory, surprised at how invested in the story she was for some reason.
"Psychology!" Alfie roared as it came to him, pointing out in elation at recollecting.
Like a glass panel shattering under pressure, Verity suddenly felt a sickness gather in her stomach, spilling like an oil slick up into a pain in her chest that then clawed at her throat.
"...what?" She was just about managing composure at this point, enough that Alfie continued none the wiser.
"Yeah... he wanted her to be his singer see? Apparently she weren't having none of it so he asked me to intervene, some gentle persuasion." He chuckled, and his humour at it all both absolutely crushed her but all the same made the roaring fires in her soul stoke so hot she could surely breathe it.
How could this of been? Yet all the same, she knew deep down she should not of been so surprised.
Tommy Shelby had taken everything from her for his own selfish greed. No wonder he had always played the helping hand to her woes... he probably knew she was nothing without him.
She felt ashamed, foolish and disgusting all the same at how she let herself fall for the monster she had been so wary about all this time - maybe her gut instincts should of been listened to more closely.
Everything she had cherished - her job, her life, her family - gone because of Thomas fucking Shelby.
"You alright love?" Alfie asked, seeing Verity's glassy and almost lifeless gaze fixed on the corner of the rug.
He then paused... and it dawned on him too.
"W... what did you say your name was again?" He stammered, realising he may of just landed himself in the hottest barrel of shite known to mankind.
Feelings, memories and words brewed in the cauldron of realisation that stirred collectively in Verity's mind. Her body felt cold and hot all the same, her stomach churned yet she also felt nothing but a dead stillness inside. This truth had stunned her body into a state like none other, not even the rejection of her sister and family had shook her like this.
Her senses weren't sure whether to break down and cry or lurch out like a viper and break the neck of the bastard sat in front of her.
Before she had another moment to contemplate her next move, through the open window she could see the shape of a sleek Bentley trawling steadily up the driveway.
In the crunch of wheels over gravel, she sensed her very undoing.
How she was going to make Thomas Shelby feel the full brunt of her rage, for all the misery he had brought into her life with little regard.
It was time someone finally put him into his bloody place, and she would oh so gladly be the one to do it.
-
A/N: I want to apologise at how long it has taken me to get this out, I didn't want to do the whole tea spill in one chapter so I thought it best to break it up. I hope you enjoyed none the less... drama is coming!