XI

The yellowed paper trembled in her shaking hands, her heart racing with every word she tried to re-read.  Her mouth felt dry and her mind felt clouded, she couldn't make sense of the sentences in front of her, all she could do was pick out key words and phrases.

IRA suspect. Dead. Tortured. Fell down the stairs.

For a while none of it made sense, and then suddenly it did. The guttural scream sent her to her knees, but she no longer felt like she was in her own body.  Her mother lay on the floor beside her, sobbing, both of their breathing becoming more laboured by the second.

WITH a start, Elizabeth woke. Her mouth was as dry as it was in the dream, and it took her a minute to realise where she was and who she was with. Tommy's sleeping figure lay next to her, undisturbed by night terrors or flashbacks. It had been a while since Elizabeth had dreamed like that, but she knew why she had. Her guilt weighed heavily in all of her muscles, knowing what she had done to Tommy's family, knowing the fate she had subjected Freddie to. It was no wonder the guilt intoxicated her in her sleep.

She allowed herself to lean in to Tommy's warm, naked body, partially comforted by his presence. She rose from the bed silently, knowing she wouldn't get back to sleep. The light of the starting day had begun to creep in to the room, illuminating the hardwood floors beneath her feet. A crack of light shone on to the bed, lighting up Tommy's sleeping form. Silently she slipped on Tommy's discarded shirt and prepared two cups of tea, walking back over to the bed with them in hand just as Tommy began to stir.

She watched with fond eyes as he woke slowly, peacefully, looking around the room with confused eyes. Eventually they landed on Elizabeth, and his face relaxed unconsciously. "Morning." She quietly spoke, smiling at him softly.

He looked at her lazily, a small smile gracing his drowsy face. "Morning." He returned, looking around the brightening room.

"What are you smiling about?" Elizabeth asked lightly, enjoying the feeling of waking up beside him. The sight of him in the morning was something she wanted to treasure – before reality hit him he looked so innocent and carefree, even youthful. She wondered silently if it would be noticeable on his face when reality finally returned to him.

"I didn't hear the shovels." His eyes were positively shining with an unfamiliar emotion – Elizabeth wondered if it was happiness beginning to shine through the defence he had built. "I slept well." He surmised, cautiously reaching out a hand to rest on her thigh.

The touch sent electricity pulsing through her veins, and she visualised their night time antics giddily. Elizabeth felt the need to tell him she didn't usually take men in her bed, but she stopped herself. The moment they had shared was too special for it to be a regular occurrence, she could feel the rarity of the moment they shared and by the look on his face, she knew that Tommy felt it too.

"Do you get them a lot?" She asked, handing him his tea. He wriggled his body so that he was more upright, accepting the tea. He ran his finger around the rim of the cup.

"Most nights." He answered. "Some nights the opium keeps them away. But most of the time, they're there." His voice conveyed how exposed and vulnerable he felt, and she knew he was trusting her with information no broken soldier wanted to share. After the war the soldiers that struggled with reality often used opium to help deal with the terrors and torments in their head, but it wasn't spoken about. It was England's worst kept secret.

Elizabeth cleared her throat lightly. "What did you do?" She asked. "In the war, I mean?" She kept her eyes on him, respectfully giving him her attention.

Tommy raked a hand through his messy morning hair. "Tunneller. The worst job there was, and we were the ones who fucking volunteered." The words were angry despite the calm demeanour he managed to present. She wanted to ask if he regretted volunteering, but she didn't. She put her hand on top of his, which still lay affectionately on her thigh. She rubbed small circles in to his skin, a gentle display of her support.

"I think you're brave." Maybe he didn't need to hear it – maybe he already knew, but Elizabeth wanted to vocalise how much she admired his courage. She didn't just mean in terms of the war, but also in reference to the battles he faced once the war had finished. While his actions were unorthodox and his business illegitimate, his actions were that of a man fighting to make a better life for himself and his family in a world that simply didn't respect them.

They drank their tea in a comfortable silence, their tender touches communicating in a way their words couldn't. They had only spent one night together, but Elizabeth felt as though their bodies were now in tune.

All too soon their morning peace was over. They got ready, Elizabeth handing Tommy his shirt with tinted cheeks. "I need to go and see Polly." He sighed, reluctant to return home. He knew he would be greeted by swearing and shouting from Polly, but he needed to try and work out what really had happened.

"Go," Elizabeth gave a half-hearted smile. "Explain to Polly that it wasn't you, she'll see sense."

Tommy stared at her with challenging eyes. "Those are the words of someone who doesn't know the wrath of Polly Gray." He retorted, giving her a chaste kiss on the top of her head.

"Be as quiet as you can," Elizabeth whispered to him as he turned to leave. "Ms. Winters will throw me on the street if she hears you." He winked at her with a smile before quietly descending down the stairs.

Elizabeth walked over to her mattress, lifting it to reveal the file that she had stashed away. Her stomach swirled with a storm of emotions that flashed through her one at time, so quickly that she couldn't identify any of them. She felt sick. Breathing deeply to try and calm her nerves, she picked the file up, clutching it with tight hands. She threw on her coat and walked out of her door, heading straight for Watery Lane.

She couldn't tell whether she was being stupid or clever, her nerves rattling at the reception she was about to receive. Polly would want to kill her, that was a given. She didn't know how Tommy would respond and that's what terrified her most. The idea that she was potentially walking herself to her death floated around her mind. Her dead body would be thrown in the Cut and nobody would ever find her. And she had brought it all on herself.

Tommy's house looked identically like the others on the street, but today it seemed much more daunting. She stood in front of the door fidgeting with her sweaty hands, nausea plaguing her entire body. Before she could turn around and escape, she lifted her hand and knocked on the door heavily. Elizabeth could have sworn she was about to faint when Tommy opened the door.

"Elizabeth? Are you all right?" He asked her, observing her white face.

Ignoring the question, Elizabeth looked behind him to try and see who was present. The thought of announcing her betrayal to the whole Shelby clan was stomach-turning. "I need to speak with Polly." Her voice wobbled unsteadily with nerves.

Tommy's brows drew together in confusion. "Polly doesn't want to speak to anyone right now." He said plainly, still standing in the doorway.

Elizabeth's nervousness cancelled out all of her remaining patience and she looked up at him sharply. "Tough. I need to speak with Polly and yourself. Now."

Tommy slowly stepped away from the door to allow Elizabeth to enter. Tommy led the way and they walked through to the kitchen in silence, his mind running through all of the possibilities for her call.

Polly looked up at Elizabeth's entrance, surprise taking over her face. She watched the body language between the pair, working out instantly that they had slept together. Her face tightened as she silently challenged Elizabeth, warning her not to involve herself with family business with a simple glare. "If you're here to try and get Tommy out of trouble, I wouldn't bother sweetheart." She spoke harshly, lighting a cigarette and focusing back on the newspaper in front of her.

"It's-" Elizabeth stammered, put off by Polly's deliberate lack of attention. "I know who told the police about Freddie." The sentence came out much quicker than she intended it, tactlessly. The room grew silent instantly as Tommy moved closer to Pol, staring at Elizabeth with anticipation. He had so many questions but he couldn't seem to formulate a single one. Why hadn't she told him earlier who it was? Polly dropped her paper slowly, eyeing the young girl in front of her cautiously. "It wasn't Tommy." Elizabeth fumbled with her words. She could barely breathe. Was she really about to do this?

"Speak, girl. Who was it? And how did you find out?" Polly coaxed her, her eyes narrowing. Elizabeth faltered under the pressure, glancing at Tommy helplessly. She couldn't look at him while delivering her next blow, so instead she focused on Polly's attentive face, gritting her teeth in preparation.

"It was me." With a shaking hand she dropped the file they had both been oblivious to on to the table. The air was knocked from Tommy's lungs, and he leant forward to hold on to the back of the chair to steady himself. He kept his head lowered, unable to look at her. Polly picked up the file and flicked through it, her face becoming hard. Her eyes seemed almost black when she looked back up at Elizabeth. Wordlessly, she handed Tommy the file to look through, reaching in to her hair and smoothly pulling out a pin with a single gesture. "I work for Inspector Campbell." Polly made no move, but Elizabeth knew she didn't have to. Elizabeth had nowhere to run and she knew if Polly wanted to stab her she would, there would be nothing she could do about it, no route for escape.

"Tommy," Polly's voice cut through the silence, her gaze unmoving from Elizabeth. "Please tell me you knew about this. That this was part of your plan." Her voice was even and controlled, but Elizabeth could sense the desperation. Tommy's silence spoke volumes. "There's only one thing that could fool a man as smart as you, Tommy - a pretty face." The fury behind her eyes was terrifying. "Men and their cocks never cease to amaze me." She stated, though her contempt was clearly concentrated squarely on Elizabeth.

After what felt like centuries, Tommy finally lifted his gaze to meet Elizabeth's. Only minutes had passed, but he looked like a different man altogether. His eyes were guarded again and hard, and Elizabeth felt herself welling up, knowing that she was the cause of his anguish.

"I want to help." She almost pleaded.

Polly laughed mercilessly, bewildered at the young girl's courage. There weren't many people who would openly admit to betraying the Peaky Blinders to their faces, but it seemed Elizabeth Young was one of them. "You want to help us? I've seen some copper's narks around here but you," she glared, pointing her finger "you are queen of them all."

Elizabeth shook her head desperately. "No," her newfound courage came as a shock to them all. "Last night was the only night I betrayed you. Campbell got all of his information from somewhere else. He was the one who told me that you had the guns and even then, I tried to convince him that the IRA had them, or the Communists."

Tommy threw the chair in front of him to the side in temper, watching Elizabeth wince at the sudden movement. "So why did you do it then, ay? If you hadn't given him any information why did you do it?" He asked, his voice growing louder with each word. Polly slowly slid the pin back in to her hair, trusting Tommy's ability to handle Elizabeth.

Elizabeth's heart broke at the sight of Tommy's hatred, knowing that all the hatred he was showing was directed at her, because of her. "Because I was about to be removed from the mission." She answered honestly. "I hadn't given him any information and he was worried I was in too deep," she took a breath, preparing herself for her next sentence. Regardless of how she phrased it, she knew Tommy's perception of her would be ruined, so there was no need to sugar-coat it. "and then I killed the IRA man. I had to do something to stay on the mission."

Tommy froze, staring at her. She was proving to be the opposite of everything he had imagined her to be with every word that passed her lips. He tried to imagine her killing a man with her bare hands but the image seemed wrong. "You killed the IRA man?" Polly couldn't hide her surprise.

"He had me against the wall," While she knew Tommy detested her, she couldn't help but notice the concern on his face. "He was going to torture me for information on behalf of the IRA, I had no choice." Her voice croaked at the brutal memory.

"If you didn't want to betray us, why did you care about being on the mission?" Polly's anger had slowly turned in to curiosity once she realised there was no imminent danger.

"I want to kill Campbell." Just when they didn't think she was capable of any more bombshells, Elizabeth managed to shock them again. "The only way I can do that is if I'm involved with the mission. I can make it look like it was done in the line of duty."

"Why?" Tommy asked with a low voice, unable to comprehend how things could have changed so much in such a small amount of time. That morning he had been in bed drinking tea with her, the most relaxed he had been for a long time. Now he couldn't stomach to look at her. Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly, holding back the tears. She had never told this story before.

"My father was a good man. He couldn't fight during the war, but he wanted to help out any way he could. He went to Belfast with my uncle to help with the shipbuilding. Said it wasn't as brave as the boys who were fighting, but it was something," her eyes focused on Tommy momentarily, before she looked away again. She had never felt so exposed in her life. "While he was there the IRA tensions began. My father had no involvement with it – he was born in Ireland but saw himself as an Englishman. He'd lived in London for so long, you see. Inspector Campbell," she spat "managed to avoid the war like the coward he is, and started interrogating men he suspected as being IRA. He interrogated my father. He tortured him until he died slowly, painfully." The tears were rolling freely, but Elizabeth no longer cared to stop them. "Then he threw his corpse down the stairs and called his death an accident. Just like Stanley Chapman. My uncle wrote to us to tell us. My mother was so depressed. I wanted to help her, I really did, but I didn't know how. I was suffering from the same pain that she was. And then word travelled that my father was an IRA man, people believed the rumours, they hounded my mother until she just couldn't take any more. She killed herself. Hung herself while I was at the market."

Her tears were painful to watch, and Tommy despite his own hurt and broken ego, felt sympathy for her. "That man took away my family. And I'm going to make him pay. When I took on the mission I expected to find Communists and IRA men, and I didn't care about who I had to betray so that I could get my revenge. But I found you," she looked at Tommy pleadingly. "and I can't do it. I know I betrayed you last night, but I've got a plan." She wiped her tears a final time, growing her resolve. She looked steadily at Polly. "I know how we can get Freddie out."