Dear Amelia, Max, and Annie,
We're back in France in La Bassée. There are a lot of men from Lancashire. We've been around so many French and Canadians that it's strange to be around people who don't live too far from where we do.
It's getting colder again. Sometimes I think I've gotten used to the cold but then snow hits and it's unbearable. When it gets too cold, I like to picture I'm in Birmingham by the fire. I imagine everyone's there. The war's over. There's nothing to be afraid of. I hope that'll be the case soon.
It's hard to know that I've missed Max's birthday again and may miss Annie's as well. I hope I can make it up to them when I return.
My hands are getting a little numb, sorry if my handwriting is hard to read. I should finish this letter so you get it soon. I may not have time to write in the coming week.
But I hope to hear from you soon. I love you all very much,
Tommy
~~~~~~~
A month after the letter was sent out, the 179th was buried alive.
~~~~~~~~~
No one in the Shelby household was notified. But Amelia knew something was wrong. Deep down in her gut, she knew something had happened to Tommy. The only person she could trust with this feeling was with Polly.
Amelia didn't want to frighten the others and she was sure they wouldn't understand either. But Polly was a bit more understanding when it came to a natural intuition.
"He hasn't written. None of them have." Amelia tried to keep her composure. She told herself she needed to remain strong until she received news confirming if she was right or wrong. "It isn't like them. One of them would have written by now. But they've all gone quiet."
Although it was difficult to accept, Polly knew she was right. None of the Birmingham boys had written in weeks. Even Ada had confided to Amelia that Freddie hadn't sent her anything. Rosie Owens said it had been a couple of months since Danny had sent word. Barney's mother was at her wit's end waiting for her son to reply. Little Isiah was heartbroken that his father had yet to respond to the letter Ada helped him write.
"Pol, what if something bad happened? What are we supposed to do?" Reality was sinking in. Amelia knew all along that it was a possibility they could lose someone. To lose all of them was something too awful to even think of.
"I don't know." She admitted. "But we can't do anything until we know for sure. We need to pray that-" The words stuck in her throat. She had been praying ever since the boys left that day three years ago. "Pray that they'll be brought home to us."
~~~~~~~~~~~
The letter came almost a month later. When Amelia saw Tommy's handwriting on the envelope she nearly screamed with relief. Frantically, she tore open the envelope.
Dear Amelia,
I thought we were all going to die
She couldn't read on. Clutching her chest to hopefully calm her racing heart, she took a few deep breaths. Sinking down to the floor, she looked away from the letter up to the ceiling.
He was okay. He was alive.
Annie, who was now two-years-old, toddled into the foyer. "Mummy!" She held her teddy close to her.
"Come here, poppet." Amelia hugged her daughter close, trying to conceal her tears of relief in Annie's dark curls.
~~~~~~~~~~
A little later on, Amelia brought the letter to Polly. She couldn't bear to read what was inside so she decided it would be best if Polly did instead.
Apparently, letters from the rest of the boys were starting to trickle in. Ada had received one from John and Freddie the same day.
Polly stood in the kitchen reading the letter with a hand over her mouth. God truly had granted them all a miracle.
"They were trapped when a tunnel collapsed. It took the cavalry three days to get them." Polly reported the summary of the letter. She thought if she explained what happened, maybe Amelia could feel more secure about reading the rest of what her husband had written to her.
"Three days?" Amelia looked bewildered. "How on earth would it take three days? They must've thought..." She chewed on her lower lip. There was no putting herself in the same situation. She wouldn't know the feeling of oxygen slipping away, the terror, the realization that this very well could be the end.
"They're alright now," Polly said gently. "They're all okay."
Amelia couldn't speak. As they sat in the kitchen, she was mending the two matching teddy bears Max and Annie had. Two Christmases ago, right after Annie was born, Amelia gifted them to her children under the guise that Tommy had sent them. She wrote a long letter pretending to be from Santa Claus. Christmas morning, she read the letter to Max who was overjoyed to hear that Tommy had given Santa the bears to deliver to Birmingham.
Max always slept with the bear snug in his arms, but Annie never let go of hers. She dragged it all around the house, sat it at the table during meals, played with it outside, and even perched it on the edge of the tub during bath time. She was so enamored with the plush bear. But the adoration took a toll on the teddy and Amelia had to often mend it. Resewing the stitches, cutting off fraying threads, and replacing the button eyes a couple of times.
"She's asking about him." Amelia wiped a bit of dirt of Annie's bear. "Max shows her the picture on the mantle. He tries to explain but I don't know if she understands."
"When he comes home, it'll all work out," Polly said confidently. "There's no bond like a parent and child. We'll all find ourselves getting back into a nice routine. As she grows, she probably won't remember he was ever gone." She pointed out.
"Max will remember." Amelia looked down at the sewing needle in her hand.
"He probably will. But when he's older, I think he'll understand a bit better why they were away."
"I don't even understand why they're gone." She mumbled. "None of it seems right. Wanda's husband was killed. Now she's left with her entire life ruined because of this stupid war. I just don't understand."
Polly sighed softly. "I don't know if any of us will understand." She admitted and took a seat at the table. "It's not in our nature to speculate on these types of things. That's the role of the men in charge."
"Tommy always talks about how things are going to be different when he's back home. How he doesn't ever want to answer to another person ever again. Sometimes it scares me because...well you know him. He gets these wild ideas and won't let them go. Thinks he can take on the heart of the world and win. But what am I supposed to tell him? He's been this-this puppet for Britain. I don't blame him."
"Tommy's always been against authority." Polly reminded her. "I never saw him bending to the will of another man. I suppose they don't have a choice now. But I would take his words as truth. No one can tell him not to do anything. And his brothers are loyal to him." She rubbed her temple as if she was developing a headache. "I would just prepare yourself for what's to come. He's going to be taking the betting shop a lot more seriously and perhaps will do things that you don't agree with."
Amelia put down her sewing kit. "So, I'm just meant to stand around waiting for him every night to come home? That I should just be okay with whatever he does?"
"He'll need guidance from people who aren't going to agree to every word he says. People he respects."
"Like you."
"And you." Polly nodded. "Do you remember what his mother used to say to him about listening?"
Amelia smiled sadly and nodded. "That he has an angel and a devil on each shoulder. She could always tell which one was speaking louder even when Tommy wasn't saying a thing."
"I'm afraid that the devil has gotten louder, now that he's seen war. So we need to speak up. For his own good and the good of everyone else he loves."
~~~~~~~~~~
After they survived being buried alive, Tommy and the rest of the Blinders were strangely optimistic about the future. They felt that maybe if they had survived something so harrowing, someone really was looking out for them. The optimism wouldn't last long. A few weeks later, Barney would be shot. As they removed the bullet, it was as if they were removing the last of the young man's sanity. He was never the same afterward.
But for that brief moment of time within years-long warfare, they spoke hopefully. Danny talked about how he and Rosie would probably have a family when he got back. Jeremiah said he was going to devote his life to God because that's who he believed saved them from almost certain death. Freddie talked about a girl who was waiting back home for him, he just didn't mention it was Ada. And the Shelby boys talked strategy. The fastest way to the top of the pack.
But it wasn't all gangs and business. Tommy talked about meeting his daughter for the first time.
"She's got a teddy bear that Mel gave her. It's her favorite, brings it everywhere." There was bitterness in his voice though. "Can't believe I've missed so much. First word, first steps."
"You got to see Max do those things." Arthur pointed out.
"Yeah. But I was still supposed to be there. It's not fair to her."
"Well," His older brother had a bit of an uncomfortable look on his face. "Probably won't remember, will she?"
"I guess not," Tommy mumbled. "Wish that were possible for us."
Arthur sighed. "They have things to forget." He acknowledged. "But maybe we ought to just try an' put it behind us. Focus on what we've got back at home. Good things, aye?"
Sure, there were plenty of good things to look forward to when they returned home. But Tommy knew that things would never be the same. He would always have a chip on his shoulder. He wasn't even sure Amelia would want him in the state he would now be in. Not even half the man he used to be, the man she fell in love with.
Arthur noticed the look in his younger brother's eyes. "You listening to the devil over there, Tom?"
He silently shook his head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later that same night, Amelia was tucking Annie and Max into bed. Though she was tired, she sat down to read them a bedtime story. Max's favorite story was Peter Pan and often had Amelia read it to him even if he practically knew the tale by heart.
Annie was starting to remember certain parts of the story as well the more they read it and the older she got.
That night, she was unusually talkative. Typically, Max was the one to interject and add his opinions on the story. Annie was more content to listen as she slowly dozed off with her teddy hugged close to her chest.
But apparently, the story had sparked some new questions.
"Is daddy Peter Pan?" She asked sweetly.
With such innocence, Amelia couldn't help but smile as she lowered the book. "No, lovey. You know what daddy looks like; his picture is on the mantle."
"Yeah." She furrowed her brow as she was clearly thinking. Her chin rested on her teddy's head. "But he in't here."
Amelia lovingly smoothed back her daughter's short dark curls. "Not right now, no. But hopefully, he'll be coming back."
"He's fighting bad guys like Captain Hook!" Max piped up excitedly. "He's shooting them with guns!" He sat up and mimicked shooting a rifle.
Amelia was horrified. "Who told you that?" She put down the book.
"Finn said so." Max's face fell a little when he saw his mother's disappointment.
"Well, that's not something he should be telling you." She insisted. "You shouldn't talk about things like that in front of your sister either."
Max slumped down under his quilt. "Sorry."
"It's...it's fine, poppet." She said, her voice softening. Of all the things she wished she didn't have to talk about, war was top on the list. "War can be dangerous." She said truthfully. "Daddy, Uncle Arthur, and Uncle John are all very brave for doing what they're doing to protect us."
"Is daddy nice?" Annie asked.
"Yes, darling. He's one of the nicest people, isn't he, Max?"
He perked up a bit again and nodded. "Yeah, he is."
"I know that he misses you both very much and wishes he could be here. And although you don't know him, Annie, he loves you very much because you're his daughter. That's very special isn't it?"
The little girl with her father's sky-blue eyes and dark hair looked happy to hear it.