"Let's at least try to keep things normal...for the children," were the words Florence had uttered to her husband as she laid breakfast on the kitchen table that morning.

The pair had barely had a moment alone since they had arrived in Small Heath, whether it be Florence being wrapped up in Shelby family matters or Elijah answering work calls and visiting his family's most local brewery, they were both ultimately wrapped up in their own lives.

On the day of the Shelby Christmas meal, Elijah had raised questions when Florence and Vinnie had returned home from Charlie's yard late. He was obviously uneasy about his wife being amongst the aspects of her apparently previous life that she had vowed never to return to.

So as the young Harrington family sat at the kitchen table in Florence's childhood home it was the children that kept the conversation alive.

"Mummy, can we visit Grandma today?" Daisy asked as she eagerly ate her breakfast, "I like Uncle Georgie's horses."

"Maybe, petal," Florence smiled, although she was nervous about letting the children out of the house, knowing that Chagretta's men were no doubt lurking.

"What have you got planned today?" Elijah asked his wife.

"Charlie asked me to visit the yard, a trainer's coming to pick up a horse, and he's busy with other work, wants me to make sure everything is done properly," Florence explained, which wasn't the entire truth, it was Tommy who had asked her to do this deed for him.

"So you'll be back in time for lunch?" Elijah replied.

"That depends," Florence glanced at her children.

"On what?"

"The trainer's punctuality," Florence answered, "Will you be visiting the brewery today?"

"Most likely," Elijah replied, "So if you're not back by midday who will watch the children?"

"Ada and Polly are next door, they'll watch them if we need," Florence explained, Vinnie was unavailable as he was needed back in London for a few days to help with the safe transfer of the children at the orphanage in Richmond as Mr Chapman's body had been found in the canal, written off as a fatal and tragic accident.

"How long do we have until this all returns to normal?" Elijah asked, glancing at their children who were sitting with them at the table.

"I don't know, Elijah," Florence sighed honestly, "We can go back to London once the mess has been tidied up."

Following her particularly frosty family breakfast Florence made her way over to Charlie's yard, greeted by Curly's joyous smile as she walked towards him.

"Hello, Mrs Harrington," He smiled.

"Curly, just call me Florence," The young woman insisted with a smile, "I'm still just Florence."

"Very well, Mrs- sorry, Florence," Curly grinned, "She should be here soon to collect the horse."

"Very good," Florence sighed, "I hear you do a good job of looking after them."

"Yes, I like to keep them safe," Curly nodded.

"That's good," Florence replied as a small well kept truck pulled into the yard, "Is that them?"

"Yes," Curly nodded as he stood beside Florence whose red lipstick and her long fur coat made her look out of place in a place like Small Heath.

They watched as a well dressed brunette woman stepped out of the front of the truck, approaching the pair, "Hello Curly," She smiled, looking to Florence, trying to recall whether she had met her before, but the more she looked at her the more she concluded that she would remember a face like that.

"Hello," Curly replied with a smile, "This is Florence, Mrs Florence Harrington."

"May Carleton," She held her hand out for Florence to shake, "I've heard a lot about you, Mrs Harrington."

Florence shook her hand with a smile, "And yet I've heard nothing about you."

"Right," May hummed awkwardly, intimidated by Florence's firm disposition, "Well, I'm here to collect Mr Shelby's horse, I'm a little early, I think."

"Are you going to train the horse to race?" Curly asked, seemingly anxious, knowing how cruel some trainers could be.

"Yes."

"Don't use the crop, she's very gentle," Curly replied.

"I won't."

"How is Mr Shelby?" May asked, glancing at Florence as Curly opened the horse cart.

"Well, now he's got the Americans after him, he's a bit hard on people," Curly explained.

"The Americans?"

"The Mafia." Florence answered.

"Dear God," May muttered to herself, wondering if that was the reason that Florence had returned to the city, the woman Tommy had spoken so highly of, the woman Tommy had spoken of how he regretted letting her go, the woman who's name Tommy would mutter as he slept.

"Yeah, there's fifteen of them, they want to kill us all," Curly explained, "But we've got guns and grenades and Aunt Polly and Florence are back, so it's going to be okay, yeah," He glanced at the two women before muttering, "I'll go and get the horse."

"I bet you wish you never entered our godforsaken town now," Florence muttered as Curly left the two women alone.

"I bet you wish you never returned," May sighed, "Mr Shelby mentioned that you'd left following quite the tragedy."

"My mother was killed by Billy Kimber, you don't have to try and sugarcoat it on my behalf," Florence replied, "And this whole Mafia business is the reason I came back."

"How so?"

Florence wondered just how much she should tell the woman who seemed to already know so much about her, "For the safety of my children."

"What do the Mafia want with your children?" May asked.

"I'd be asking myself the same question," Florence sighed, "If my daughter's father weren't the man the Mafia are so desperate to kill."

"Your daughter's father is Tommy Shelby?" May remarked, surprised by the revelation.

"It would appear so," Florence replied, "Though as you're probably aware, it's much more complicated than that."

Florence had considered returning home to spend what remained of the morning with Elijah and her children before he left for work, but she had never been one for staying within the confines on the same four walls. So after receiving directions from one of Tommy's men she made her way to Tommy's factory, intrigued to see the empire he had built with her own eyes.

As she entered the premises it seemed as though she had arrived just in time to spectate a boxing match. A ring had been set up in the middle of the factory floor, Arthur approached various men for wagers as Tommy stood beside the ring, just a metre from Aberama Gold.

Florence made her way towards the Shelby man, but before she could reach him a man stepped into her path, "You're a woman-"

"Glad to hear Mr Shelby is employing men whose eyes work," Florence remarked.

"They'll be fighting soon, women shouldn't be here." He replied innocently, unaware of the things the woman opposite him had seen and done.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, sweetheart," She tapped him on the shoulder, passing him as she made her way towards Tommy.

"Thought I heard your voice," Tommy muttered as she stood beside him, keeping his eyes on his brother.

"I just wanted to see what you do for work these days." Florence smiled as the two boxers, one being Bonnie Gold warmed up in the ring.

"Did the horse go alright?" Tommy asked.

"She did," Florence nodded as Arthur stepped out the ring and the bell rang.

"And you met Mrs Carleton?" Tommy replied as the two men began to box.

"I did."

"What do you make of her?" Tommy asked.

"Can't say I care enough to form an opinion of the woman," Florence quipped as Arthur joined them, his presence diffusing the conversation.

"Didn't know we'd be expecting you, Floss," Arthur grinned as they watched the boxing, Bonnie choosing to play defensively rather than on the attack, "You were never one for rules, were you?"

"You know me, Arthur."

"Your boy knows he can hit back, right?" Arthur asked Aberama.

"I told him in the professional game, people want their money's worth, don't win too fast," Aberama explained, "But if you've seen enough...Finish it, Bonnie!"

Like a greyhound let out of the gate, Bonnie saw his prey and went on the attack, throwing hard punches at the heavyweight, Billy Mills. With less than a dozen punches Billy was on the floor in front of Tommy, Florence and Arthur.

"Fuck me, that was a punch," Arthur remarked, turning to Aberama, "What's he got, horseshoes in those gloves, or what?"

"Nope, just his dad's strength and his mother's temper," Aberama answered, stepping into the ring to assist his son in removing his gloves.

"Does he have fits?" Tommy asked.

"No."

"Asthma?"

"No."

"How's he cut?" Arthur added.

"No one has cut him yet, but his skin's thick," Aberama told them.

"Does he drink?" Florence asked as she stood between Tommy and Arthur.

"Porter, sometimes."

"How many fights?" Tommy asked.

"Twenty five bare knuckle, all knockouts, five with gloves in pastures, all knockouts," Aberama replied.

"Against Romany fighters?"

"That's why they won't let us in the fairs no more, he keeps winning," Aberama smiled.

"I could fight a fucking tree and knock it out, Mr Shelby," Bonnie assured him.

"I like him," Arthur grinned.

"Mrs Eden's waiting upstairs," The same man who had warned Florence of the boxing approached Tommy.

"Alright, I'll be there in a minute," Tommy assured him, glancing at Florence before looking to his brother, "Arthur."

The two Shelby brothers moved to the side and Florence remained beside the Golds, "You've got a good fighter there, Mr Gold."

"Thank you, Mrs Harrington," Bonnie nodded with a smile, "You have a club in London, yes?"

"That's right," Florence replied, "Next time you're in the city there'll be a round of drinks on the house."

"I'm not sure we're your target clientele, Mrs Harrington," Aberama remarked.

"I don't have a target clientele, Mr Gold," Florence assured him, "I grew up on these streets, I've not forgotten that, as much as those people down in the smoke might wish me to, well to an extent."

"To an extent, you say?" Aberama answered with intrigue.

"People in London, they see the Peaky Blinders and they're intimidated yet intrigued in the same breath," Florence explained, "Word travels, so people know that once upon a time I was one of them, and they like that, because you either respect the Peaky Blinders or you make an enemy of them."

"That simple, is it?" Aberama replied.

"Indeed." Florence nodded.

"Alright, we'll do it," Tommy and Arthur approached Florence and the Golds.

"We need to do a deal about money," Aberama was quick to reply.

"Yeah, speak to my accountant," Tommy answered.

"The witch?" Aberama replied.

"The witch."

"So when will my first real fight be, do you think, Mr Shelby?" Bonnie asked eagerly.

"Well, as soon as we can find men stupid enough to get in the ring with you," Tommy sighed, pulling a flat cap from his pocket and holding it out to Bonnie, "There you go, Bonnie, you're a Peaky Blinder now, son."

Bonnie took the cap from Tommy, feeling the weight of responsibility that came with it as he was reminded of what Florence had said about the respect of a Blinder.

"Florence," Tommy walked away from the group, gesturing for her to follow him.

"What's this about, hmm?" Florence hummed as the pair headed up the stairs towards Tommy's office.

"I've got a meeting with the union leader at one of my factories, she wants to bring all the union workers out on strike," Tommy huffed as Florence followed him up the stairs.

"Oh, so you think that having a woman by your side will soften her up?" Florence quipped.

"Something like that." Tommy smirked to himself as they reached the top of the stairs.

"Well, I can play nice or not so nice, if that's how you want to play this," Florence told him as they paused at the top of the stairs, "You've only seen me play nice."

"Shooting that sous chef in the head was playing nice, was it?" Tommy remarked with intrigue.

"That's exactly what it was, all four of us in that room knew he was a dead man, I just sped up the process, shortened his suffering I suppose," Florence told him.

"You continue to surprise me, you know that?" Tommy muttered.

"I do," Florence smirked, "And I think the unexpected scares you."

Tommy watched as Florence headed towards his office, a different woman to the one he had let slip through his fingers six years ago, this woman could protect herself, this woman would kill for her children, for herself, maybe even for him. He followed after her, quickly passing her to open the office door, leading her inside, where Jessie Eden and the same man from earlier stood.

"Jessie Eden this is Mrs Florence Harrington," Tommy told her as he removed his coat, "Florence, this is Jessie Eden."

"Pleasure to meet you," Florence smiled as she handed her jacket and gun holster to Tommy who hung it up beside his as the foreman left the three of them alone.

"You too," Jessie smiled, "Mr Shelby, I understand you've had a bereavement."

"I'm here to talk business," Tommy sighed as he and Florence sat at one end of the table.

"Then I'll be blunt," Jessie answered.

"And as will we," Tommy remarked, glancing at Florence and offering her a cigarette to which she silently shook her head.

"What you're doing here is robbery," Jessie was quick to reply.

"Every man is free to leave," Tommy told her as he placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it.

"You cut five shillings from the weekly wage," Jessie replied.

"Mmhmm," Tommy hummed, "And you said if I did that, you'd bring every man and woman in all my factories out on strike."

"Yes."

"Do you have a whistle?" Tommy asked as Jessie remained silent, "If so, blow it."

"I thought at least we might have a discussion, as I do with other owners," Jessie replied.

"I'm not other owners."

"He won't change his mind," Florence told her.

"Apparently I'm obstinate," Tommy huffed, glancing at Florence who simply smiled.

"You believe because coal is expensive and it's been a cold winter, and because wages have been cut over these past twelve months, you think 'cause of all that nobody will walk out on strike," Jessie replied.

"No one can afford to strike, Miss Eden," Florence replied, "Not so soon after Christmas."

"Until recently, that would've been true," Jessie remarked, "But something has changed this past year, a cold wind from the east, people are not afraid anymore."

Tommy scoffed, "I have it on very good authority that the Bolsheviks couldn't organise a fucking picnic."

"You know, Mr Shelby, it's almost as if you want trouble," Jessie replied.

Tommy looked to Florence as she smirked, "If the rule of law in Birmingham were to break down during this period of turmoil for my family, then yes, that would indeed have its benefits...for reasons you could not understand."

"What the eyes don't see, the mouth can't tell," Florence muttered as Tommy smiled to himself.

"I've heard rumours," Jessie replied, "Sport between men."

"Just blow your fucking whistle, eh?" Tommy sighed.

Florence watched as the woman collected her things and swiftly left the room, the sound of a whistle followed.

Without a word the pair made their way out of the office and onto the balcony that overlooked the factory floor, "Didn't know you were such a diplomat."

"Have you tried negotiating stock prices with suppliers as a woman in London?" Florence remarked as they both leant against the railings, watching the workers leave the factory.

"There'll always be a seat on the company board if you ever want it," Tommy assured her.

"I've been back a week after no contact for six years and you're offering me a seat on the board of your family company?" Florence frowned.

"It'll give Daisy something to inherit, given that she won't automatically inherit my part of the company when I die," Tommy told her, even though it was also because he had missed having the woman at his side, and as selfish as it was, he wasn't sure he could face losing her again, he wanted to give her something that tied her to the city.

"Less talk of mortality while the Mafia are on our doorstep," Florence replied as Tommy let himself smile, "So what'll you do now your workers are out on strike?"

"There'll be more workers who want to work to feed their families, there always is," Tommy sighed.

"Why don't you just increase the wages?" Florence replied, "It's quite obvious that you could afford it."

"You seemed to be on my side during that meeting," Tommy answered.

"I was, I am," Florence muttered, "But that doesn't mean that in the grand scheme of things, I wouldn't be on the side of the workers."

"You give a dog a leg of meat, he asks for another, and another, and another until you're left with the scraps," Tommy explained, "It'll go that way here, they will never be completely content."

"If an eighteen year old Tommy Shelby could see himself now," Florence smiled.

"What do you think he'd make of it?" Tommy asked, because Florence's opinion mattered to him. 

"I think he'd be proud of where you are, but I'm not sure what he'd make of how you got there," She told him honestly, "You were a different man before France."

"And you were a different woman before London," Tommy replied.

"Does that make us broken?" Florence glanced at him.

"In the traditional sense, yes," Tommy answered, "But we're stronger, and we have nothing to fear."

"We may as well go back into that office of yours, it's much too cold out here," Florence sighed.

"Won't Elijah be wondering where you got to?" Tommy asked.

"He will, but he's not my keeper," Florence replied as she walked back towards Tommy's office, the Shelby man close behind. Tommy was unsure what to make of their relationship, when she and Elijah had left for London, they seemed happy together, despite the circumstances, he wondered what had changed.

The pair stood at the end of the table as a knock came at the door, "Come in," Tommy spoke.

Tommy's foreman walked in, closing the door behind himself, "I did say this would happen."

"Who's next?" Tommy asked.

"Erm, he's a delegate from the European Council for Trade," The man explained, "He's here to talk about the import of car parts to France, he's come all the way from Paris, but given the circumstances, I can send him away."

"Given what circumstances?" Tommy frowned, "Send him in."

Without a word the man left, leaving Florence and Tommy alone in the room again, neither of them knowing quite what to say until the door opened and in walked a man who Florence didn't recognise.

"Mr Shelby, Mrs Harrington, this is Monsieur Paz, from Paris," The foreman told them before leaving them to talk.

"I heard you had trouble," The man said, "It's good of you to see me."

"It's nothing we can't handle," Florence was quick to answer.

"You just came from Paris, eh?" Tommy remarked, doubting the facade the man before him was creating.

"You know Paris?" The man asked as he sat at the table.

"I left Paris in a cattle truck," Tommy sighed, "They said you were French."

"No, I came here from Paris, that does not mean I'm French," He replied, "Guess where I'm from."

Florence's heart began to race, it couldn't be him, could it?

"Well, in my cattle truck in Paris," Tommy replied, retrieving his cigarettes from his jacket pocket, "There were American soldiers, we played cards, they sound like you."

"Ah, did you win?" He asked.

"You didn't come on a train, your suit is pressed, your shoes are clean, where do you get your suits made?" Tommy muttered.

"I have a tailor, in New York City, look," He opened his jacket, showing the pair the fine silk that lined it, "Fenacci, Italian."

Italian.

"He's my uncle," He continued, "He makes suits in a basement in Mott Street, he is my uncle, so every stitch is stitched with blood, I heard you dress well, Mr Shelby, but now I see, not so well as me."

"Debatable." Florence muttered to herself as Tommy stepped ever so slightly closer to her, his shoulder grazing his.

"You know, I have uncles as well, but they're not the sort of men who would work in a basement with a needle and thread," Tommy paused, glancing at Florence's hand as it trembled beside his, "Mr Changretta."

"I am surprised how easy it is to get into a room with you," Luca replied as Tommy pulled his gun from where it hung on the coat rack, pointing it at the American.

"And now?" Tommy quipped as Florence attempted to conceal her trepidation at being in the same room as her father after twenty nine years of not knowing him.

"And now, you should know that during the trouble you had earlier on your factory floor, I sent an accomplice into your office in overalls, he found your gun," He pulled a handful of bullets from his pocket, dropping them into his hand, "And unloaded it."

Without a thought as Tommy checked the chamber of his gun, Florence pulled hers from its holster, where it had been hanging on the same coat rack, pointing it at Luca Changretta, startling Tommy but leaving Changretta unphased.

"I must say, it is quite remarkable how eager to protect him you are, despite everything he's done to you," Luca smirked at his daughter, "He got you pregnant, refused to marry you, then caused your mother's death."

"Give me one good reason not to put a bullet through your skull," Florence hissed, her hands trembling.

"That's no way to talk to your father, is it?" Luca smiled as Florence's heart beat at rapid speed against her chest, "Besides, my accomplice emptied your gun too."

"Florence," Tommy wrapped his hand around her arm, pulling her back to stand beside him as he took the gun from her hands, checking its chamber and seeing it was also empty.

Luca placed a bullet on the table, "Arthur Shelby," Followed by another, "Polly Gray," And another, "Michael Gray."

Then he placed another, "John Shelby," He knocked the bullet over and flicked it down the table, "Spent."

"Ada Thorne," He continued as Florence felt Tommy interlock his hand with hers, "And finally...Tommy Shelby."

"You sent my six year old daughter a black hand, is she not on your list?" Florence remarked, feeling Tommy squeeze her hand, "Are you sick in the head?"

"I meant no harm, I just knew that you would come running back to Birmingham if I sent you that," Luca replied with a grin, "I thought it would be a good opportunity to get to know each other, it would be nice to meet my grandchildren."

"They are not your grandchildren," Florence hissed as Tommy squeezed her hand again.

"I was surprised, a Changretta having a child with a Shelby-"

"I am not a fucking Changretta," Florence told him firmly, "I am my mother's daughter, not yours."

"I would've come back for your mother's funeral, I just couldn't be in the country." He replied as Tommy kept ahold of Florence's hand, fearing how she might react to the man's words.

"It's fine, she wouldn't have wanted you there."

"I'm not sure that's true." Luca sighed.

"But it is, you used her and once I was conceived you fucked off to New York," Florence replied.

"You've been amongst the Shelbys too long it seems, la mia bellissima figlia," Luca remarked, "Such poisonous words."

"I am my mother's daughter, it'll do you good to remember that," Florence muttered, "I killed one of your men on Christmas Eve and I would do it again and again to protect my family, not yours."

"Our family's blood is incredibly sacred to me," Luca told Florence, "The blood that runs through your veins is what protects you in this vendetta."

Florence couldn't quite believe his words, or that she was in a room with the man who was her father, not that he had done anything to fulfil that role.

"None of you will survive," Luca told Tommy as he stood up from the table, "Your level of security is pitiful, and we are an organisation of a different dimension."

"I could have killed you when I walked through the door, but now you see," He stepped closer to the pair as Florence stepped in front of Tommy, not that her body would do much to protect him, "I want you to be the last, I want you to be alive after your entire family is dead, because I've been told that is what'll hurt you the most."

Now it was Florence's turn to squeeze Tommy's hand.

"You people have traditions of honour, as do we," Luca told them both, "Instead of sending you a black hand, I could have had you killed in the night without knowing why."

Luca stepped closer to them both again as Florence gripped Tommy's hand, "But I want you to know why, and I want to suggest to you that we fight this vendetta with honour."

"No civilians, no children," Tommy replied, "You lay a fucking hand on Florence and you'll regret it."

"No police."

"Welcome to Birmingham, Mr Changretta," Tommy muttered.

"Grazie."

author's note: we are so back - hope you enjoyed the chapter! we're in for a wild ride and it's only just begun!

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