A/N: Long time no update! Sorry for the delay on this.
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Even the vivid throes, warm long days and pleasant summer evenings could now blow away the thickened cobwebs of hurt and distress from the inner walls of Arrow House. The place that had been feeling more like home than ever when Verity was around, now felt like a shell – a building merely to keep the elements from your skin. It wasn't a home, a place of sanctuary or comfort. It was just a place to stay.
A place to hide.
No one quite felt the brunt of Verity leaving like little Charlie did. Although his father was in a quiet state of devastation, it was only him he would bare the scars from his own acts of selfish wants. Whereas Charlie had both the hurt of Verity leaving, as well as the pain of seeing his father sink further away than ever before. That child's every happiness melted away with the summer heat, not even his rides out with the yard boys or his music lessons could bring him a smile anymore.
It seemed the very last fibre of glue holding this very small and very discombobulated family unit together, was Francis. She had seen and heard a lot, and knew the Shelby's perhaps more than they knew themselves. She knew it wasn't exactly her place to start piping up – but she felt it was her place.
Nothing troubled her more than hearing Charlie say he just wanted to 'be with the angels and mummy' one night as she tucked him into bed.
The long office Tommy inhabited never felt more like a coffin, as Francis stepped into it's impressive bookshelf strewn walls, seeing the broken Blinder sat at his desk – the back of the chair facing her. It seemed Tommy spent most of his time now either looking out of those long rectangular windows, or with his head on his desk, several finished or half-finished whisky bottles not too far away.
As the maid stepped in, she announced herself with a small clearing of her throat. In her best interests, she decided to first ease in with a bit of news. Charlie's music teacher had called in sick, and wouldn't be able to attend tomorrow morning's lesson. The information was easy deliver – a rehearsed line and a solid and rather emotionless fact that seemed a lot easier to Francis than what she was about to do. She had heard Tommy when he was angry, the way his voice would bellow loudly about the house as turbulent as thunder. It would often strike fear into her heart, and she often wondered how it felt to be on the receiving end of one of his spats. It couldn't of been nice.
Yet in this situation – having watched both Tommy and his young son turn into the saddest, most lack lustre family she had ever witnessed, well. She felt it was her duty to at least say something.
"Mr Shelby," she started, hands linked neatly across her front. "If I may be so bold as to say, I have noticed a lot of things have changed... since Miss Grant left." She cleared her throat once again, looking up and staring at the same leather back of the chair.
"I know it's essentially not my place, but I'm worried. For you and Charlie." She explained further, feeling as if she was waiting for the lion to snap at her for saying things that were above her station. "You are both deeply unhappy, Mr Shelby." Francis swallowed the boulder sized lump in her throat, watching as an arm draped over the arm of the chair, clutching a cigarette that still smoked steadily away.
"I have no idea quite that happened between yourself and Miss Grant," she furthered, "But it's clear her absence has impacted you both in the worst way imaginable." Her voice was filled with care and genuine concern. "and I hate to stand by and see you and Charlie in such a state of... constant sadness."
There came no reply, the outburst she had been expecting clearly just wasn't there. The empty silence still served enough as a reason to leave, and so the maid cleared herself from the room without a word more. Little did she know the volumes that had been spoken in her truth.
Tommy's vivid blue eyes surveyed the sun soaked green outside of his lavish house. His mind had been feasting on the maid's words – was it really that apparent to everyone in this house how much Verity's absence had affected him? The staff had seen many a woman come and go, witness a thousand family fall outs and not bat an eyelid – but one psychologist turned signer, with her soul as loud as her songs – had been the downfall of the infamous Tommy Shelby?
Francis had awoken a sense of revenge in him – he couldn't sit by anymore and wallow in the ghost of about his home, the scents of her perfume in his pillows.
He had to get her back.
-
Castle Combe
This was certainly a different evening to sitting by one of the brooks with a good book and a flask of freshly pressed lemonade. Verity found herself trekking up the sunset drenched streets, the windows of the pretty houses glowing like trickling honey. The locals waved her good evening, as she smiled and exchanged pleasantries – on her way to her newly appointed workplace in a scruffy old shirt waist dress worn old flats. It wasn't exactly glamorous, but the job needed doing and she was keen to make a good and earnest impression on her new boss and co worker – Henry.
As she arrived at the surgery, the downstairs general practice was just about locking up finally for the evening. She ascended the quiet and echoey stairwell to the upper floors which would be her new office space with Henry. As she approached the offices, her ears could already not go amiss to the banging and clattering going on behind the frosted glass, followed by some small cussing.
Curiosity getting the better of her, she didn't think to announce her arrival and instead just walked in – having to actively stifle an amused grin. The paint covered screwdriver, discarded paint pot lid and the splattering of magnolia paint all over her colleague's clothes and face said enough. Clearly opening a pot of paint was a feat in itself.
"Excellent timing." Henry announced, breaking any sort of apprehensive tension that let Verity know she was okay to have a laugh along with him. "I promise I can usually open a tin of paint without... this much hassle." He chuckled, gesturing to his clothes which were spattered, along with flecks dotted about his face and hair.
"A freshly painted office will be nice for the clients," she smirked, "But I doubt a freshly painted Consultant will be appreciated." She laughed, stepping back and surveying what he'd done already. He'd painted the ceiling a fresh coat of white, which already freshened the tired old space up immensely.
"No, I don't imagine it will." He followed up her joke some moments later, leaning against the door frame as he too surveyed his work. "I hope this looks good when we're done," he then added, "I've been here all day trying to get as far as I could."
Verity glanced across, his efforts were evident – it had been a hot one today, and the paint – be it wet or dry, all over his clothes, seemed a good enough indicator of his hard work.
"I didn't want to take up too much of your evening."
His words came as a sweet surprise, and modest too. He re-rolled the sleeves up on his white shirt, further exposing the extent of his paint-fleck covered skin. The psychologist swallowed quickly, finding herself unable to think for a second of what to say.
"It's not a problem." She suddenly smiled, looking to get on with something. "I offered." She had added, wondering why her brain had felt so trapped and stuck in that second – like she was caught up in a net momentarily. She had felt like a foolish little girl, and was quick to sweep any unwanted thoughts away.
-
The two had gotten on with some painting, late into the evening as the last gold rays of sunshine grasped at the horizon like fingers, desperately clinging onto the remaining threads of daylight.
They'd managed to give the office space a single coat of the muted magnolia colour, and it was already looking a thousand times better than it had done before hand.
Henry had insisted the hard work at least, had earned them a brew. The kettle from the private kitchenette area boiled noisily, as Verity sat on the makeshift chair which happened to be a palette this evening.
As she looked out onto the sun, she thought about where she was this time last year – and as she often did, she dragged herself back through everything she had been through. More often or not, she found herself feeling sick to the stomach about Tommy, but also Scarlett. That had been the worst betrayal – mainly because she had always half been cautious of Tommy... but Scarlett? She had been there through everything, and to be stabbed in the back like that wounded her like nothing else. She had lost a lot of her trust through this process, and she was finding it hard to be entirely comfortable around Henry because of it.
"One tea – milk, half a sugar." That friendly Scottish voice announced, as Verity suddenly stirred from the murky waters of her mind and back to the present – in the small office in the last of the sun's light.
"Thank you." She smiled warmly, taking the mug between her hands as Henry took a seat on an upturned plastic bucket not too far to her left. The psychologist looked around, breaking into a little smile at their rather amusing present situation.
"It's not exactly upmarket at this very second," she chuckled, taking a small sip of the hot drink, "But I imagine it will look splendid soon." She added, surveying the space they were sprucing up – her brunette hair escaping the confines of the bun Verity had scraped together before she left home.
Henry smiled wanly, eyes looking down momentarily as he drew in a deep breath.
"No, it's not five star right now, but it will be." He explained, glancing up at her then, "But even in this state, It's better than where I came from." The psychiatrist then said with a tone that was dull, lacklustre and filled with the animosity that had been watered down. Immediately, it caused Verity a great deal of intrigue.
"Where had you worked before? If you don't mind me asking, of course." She asked, trying to desperately read his features for any further signs.
Getting up from the modest bucket, Henry wandered over to the window as a means of distraction from his story, it seemed.
"A surgery in Edinburgh." He started, the honeyed light of the long summer day cascading over his face. "I left because my boss was a bastard," he blurted, and then looked to Verity in surprise at himself for the profanity.
"It's fine." She smiled in response, letting him know she wasn't exactly bothered by his language choice. She'd swore her fair share, especially in the last few months.
"The man was a manipulative git. He didn't like my way of practicing because it was too modern for him, so he made up a few lies and spread them around to get me exiled." He scoffed in bitter recollection. "Ruined my career. I had to come this far to escape."
These words, and Henry's story... Fit a little too well with the scars that still lay fairly raw across Verity's heart. She found herself looking down at the biscuit coloured tea in her cup, and her chest clenched angrily at the thought of what she had been through too. But then came the comfort... Henry had also been through a similar thing.
"I.... I had a similar experience." Verity announced, her words a little stammered as she wasn't quite confident how much of her story she could divulge. "I was lied to, and I was stripped of everything I had known because of a lie someone had told." Her hands gripped a little tighter, with more aggression around the mug. Henry watched on at the clouded remnants of anger flurrying behind Verity's green eyes.
She quickly withdrew herself when she recollected the moments too vividly – even the sound of the glass she had thrown during that argument was crystal clear in her ears before she snapped herself out of her trance.
Verity then looked up to see Henry looking back at her with a resonance about his expression, a level of concern muddled in with the understanding.
"All I'm saying is I understand what you've been through." Her voice seemed to be more fragile than before, and reflective of the vulnerability she had – a vulnerability she was so desperately trying to be rid of.
There were a few moments of silence, and Verity cursed herself that she may of displayed too much, or overshared. She wanted to take the moment back, wishing she had never let on a thing-
A hand fell onto her shoulder.
"Come on, when you finish your tea, I'll walk you home." Henry said kindly, and Verity wasn't sure if it was her mess of emotions – but the simple contact of human touch had her stomach knotting and chest aching a little. With his touch withdrawn, she drank back the last trickles of tea and decided going home was probably for the best.
-
The streets were empty at the sun was finally going down, most of the local children were inside and getting ready for their bedtime as Henry strolled with Verity down the lanes, the bridge over the By Brook getting closer and closer into view, along with their desired destination.
Since leaving the surgery, the two doctors had engaged in general chit chat but Verity's head was in a mess over what she'd said. She knew she would be bothered endlessly if she didn't at least say something about it.
"I'm sorry about before," the psychologist uttered, reaching up to pill the few pins from her hair, the locks of brown falling free in shiny dark waves. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." She added, dropping the pins into her dress pockets and combing her fingers through her hair as some distraction method from the conversation she was about to have.
Henry paused a moment as the pair of them rounded the corner towards the cottage.
"Now why would it make me uncomfortable?" he said, hands in his pockets as Verity looked across at him with a regretful look on her expression.
"I don't know... it's still a raw experience for me and I.... I struggle to hide my emotions sometimes." She fumbled, cursing Tommy Shelby's name over and over in her head, whilst she kicked a stone along the lane.
"Verity," Henry stopped them both, hand on her arm to pause her where she stood. The psychologist remained steadfast, as her new colleague looked at her with intent and discipline. "Your profession doesn't mean you have to try and hide the way you feel, limit your own emotions." He explained, trying to reason with her and reassure her that everything she had expressed that evening was valid.
His focused glance caused her to turn look away towards the cottage – feeling a sweep of foolishness and the vulnerable feeling again that she detested so much.
"I just want to be able to get on with my life without reflecting so much on the past." She stated, fighting a sarcastic-frustrated smile at herself for sounding like a patient. She let out a deep sigh, shaking her head as her eyes dropped to the road surface beneath her feet.
"You're allowed to be frustrated, Verity." Henry assured her, "And I'm the same. I came here expecting to instantly forget about all the shite I experienced back at home but the slate doesn't wipe clean as easily as everyone says it does." His hands fell to her shoulders.
"We're in this together," Henry then said, with a kind smile. "You ever feel like you need someone to talk to, you don't need to book an appointment to come and see me. Just drop by." He offered with a little dusting of a joke that caused Verity to laugh softly.
"Ok, I will." She smiled wanly, looking back at him as his hands lifted from her shoulders. "Thank you, Henry." Verity added, her chest collapsing with a laboured sigh. He seemed to good to be true, especially after all the strange friendships she'd just tumbled out from.
"I'm staying at Willow Way, the little cottage on the end of the lane." He affirmed with her, "Drop by whenever." His smile seemed as long lasting as the last droplets of sunlight, as he turned and walked away. Verity found herself lingering on the spot longer than she should've done. She felt strangely misplaced – floating and falling all the same. She was grateful for the kindness, yet her broken heart and mind was so sceptical of it all. Everything in her head felt a mess as she headed home, and to bed for the night.
She didn't know what to do, and certainly wasn't sure who to trust.
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A/N: Sorry this is a little bit boring but some twists will be coming soon!