𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤
-𝟎𝟎𝟎-

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: The plot of this story is all over the place — that is kind of the point. It's supposed to be confusing. It's supposed to be annoying but nevertheless please be kind in the comments as this is my first time writing. If you don't like the book, don't read it. Thank you.

To say Valerie's family was a good one would be one of the worst lies somebody could ever tell. At the age of twelve, Valerie learnt that her mother was having an affair. She had seen the man that she snuck in during the late hours of the night whilst Valerie's father was out in town for business.

And if she had known that going and telling her father the news upon his arrival home would make her life fall apart, she would have never even thought twice about opening her mouth.

Her father, Robert, picked up and left the same night he heard about his wife's actions. Despite his attempts to take his daughter with him, her mother refused.

And things only went downhill from there..

-

Valerie sat beside the fireplace whilst gently swiping her paintbrush over the yellow-tinted paper. From a young age, she had began painting using watercolour paint. It was one of the many things she took interest in.

It was the echoing of her mother's heels coming down the hallway that made her look up toward the door.

Valerie's dress pooled around her whilst she sat on the floor. The door swung open and she didn't move at all. "What're you doing?" Helen, her mother, questioned with a nonchalant tone.

Valerie examined the older woman and held the paintbrush loosely between her fingers. "Painting." She replied bluntly.

A scoff escaped Helen's mouth as she turned to pour herself a glass of whiskey. Valerie shifted slightly and sat upright. "Do you have something to say?" She questioned. Helen raised an eyebrow and turned, leaning on the wooden drawers behind her. "Watch your tone, girl." Helen scolded.

Valerie let out a breath and concentrated on painting again. "You didn't answer my question." She hummed, thinking for a moment before continuing.

"I don't have to listen to you, Valerie." Helen said sternly. The sixteen year old looked up. "Why should I?" Helen added.

Valerie placed down her things and stood, a hand atop the fireplace. "Because I'm the one keeping this roof over our heads. I'm barely managing but yet we're still here." She reminded her. "Do you want me to remind you why it's me that's paying for the house?"

Helen lowered her glass of whiskey and bit her tongue. "Shut your mouth." She hissed. "Clear your stuff up and find somewhere else to do whatever it is that you do — I have people coming over."

This time, Valerie didn't argue. Instead she collected her things and walked out the door without another word. Helen's gaze stayed on her young daughter as she walked off.

When Helen said she had people coming over, she meant the man she had an affair with.

Helen was a terrible woman. A terrible person in general. Never once did she take her daughter's interest to heart. All she cared about was getting shit faced before it hit six o'clock in the evening. There had been many occasions where she'd laid hands on Valerie but it seemed to stop once she started fighting back.

-

Valerie looked leaned over the bannister at the top of the stairs and listened carefully to hear her mother talking with her so called boyfriend before going back to her bedroom. Kneeling down, she carefully lifted one of the floorboards up to reveal a sewing box.

She winced when putting the board back into place. Waiting a few moments, Valerie was sure her mother hadn't heard the noise and placed the sewing box onto her bed.

Her nails stung slightly as she pulled at the lid of the tin box. Finally, it came off and Valerie stared down at the pile of money that sat there. It wasn't a lot. But it was enough to get her a train out of there.

Swallowing hard, Valerie began pacing her room and packing whatever she could into the small bag that she was planning on taking with her. She knew she couldn't take everything. Despite how much Valerie wanted to, it just wasn't possible. She folded up the money and tucked it into her sock before shoving one last item into the bag: the book her father had given her as a child. Her favourite book of all time. Little Women.

Valerie was unsure if she'd get away with what she planned to do but it was worth the risk.

Over the years, she had managed to figure out which of the floorboards made noise when weight was applied to them. Which made it a lot easier to get down the stairs without making a sound.

The door to the room Helen was in was slightly ajar, the light seeping out. Taking a sharp breath, Valerie tucked her coat under her arm and gently twisted the door handle to the front door.

Now or never.

After stepping outside, she managed to close the door just as silently as she had opened it and her pace quickened when she began walking. Valerie shrugged her coat onto her shoulders and clutched her bag tightly.

Valerie didn't know where she was going to go. But wherever it was would be better than living with the woman she called mother.

The train station was practically empty for the late hour of night which Valerie was thankful for. Looking around, her eyes met the eyes of a tired man at the ticket desk.

"Excuse me—" She looked down at the small sign on the desk, "Peter." Valerie spoke. "I need a ticket."

"To where?" He asked whilst leaning on his fist. Valerie chewed on her bottom lip to think before finally saying, "anywhere." Her response made the man want to groan loudly.

He scanned his eyes over a list that was pinned up on the wall and nodded. "Next train goes to Small Heath." Peter told her. Valerie furrowed her eyebrows together. Peter let out a breath of frustration. "Small Heath— Birmingham?" He said.

She nodded in understanding and leaned down to pull the money from her sock. "And how long will I be on the train for?"

"Not long. Look love—" he paused, "do you want the ticket or not?" He asked.

Valerie was quick to nod and slid the money onto the counter. "Thank you," she took the ticket from him, "goodnight." Was the last she said to him before walking out to the platform to wait for her train.

Small Heath. Couldn't be too bad, surely.

To say the train journey was enjoyable was a complete overstatement. Thankfully, Valerie fell asleep for most of it until a man had began shaking her shoulder.

"Your stop." He said quietly. Valerie squinted and waited for her eyes to adjust to the light as the sun had began rising. She took her bag once more and thanked him with a nod before stepping off the train.

Strangely, the platform was slightly busy which made it slightly difficult for her to find her way through the station.

Small Heath was different to her home. It had a funny smell to it and almost every person she looked at was smoking a cigarette. Valerie snaked her way through crowds when walking through what she believed to be called Watery Lane. There was a queue of people outside one particular house and she raised an eyebrow.

A small pub was positioned on the corner of the street and she took her chances and went there. "Mornin' love." A funny looking man spoke from over the bar. There was only a handful of people there. "Can I get you anything?" He asked.

Valerie cautiously sat upon a stool. "Water?" She asked, knowing she wasn't yet of age to be drinking alcohol. The barman nodded and pulled a glass, pouring water into it.

"You're not from 'round here are you?"

"Is it that obvious?" Valerie chuckled. The man shook his head with a chuckle. "Not really. I can just tell. You walked through here like you're following a map that's upside down." He said. She frowned slightly but just smiled. "I'm Harry." He greeted.

She passed. "Nice to meet you, Harry. Im Florence." Valerie lied, making up a name on the spot. He hummed and passed her the glass of water, "on the house." He nodded and turned away.

Valerie was wary of her surroundings. It was her first time in a new place and she was unsure what to do. Valerie didn't have a place to stay — she was unsure if she'd even have enough money for a residences to stay in.

The door to the pub opened and it fell silent within seconds which surprised her. Valerie looked to the side to see a man wearing a peaked cap. "Mr Shelby, what can I get you?" Harry asked straight away.

"Bottle of whiskey and three glasses." Tommy placed a few coins on the bar, standing near Valerie. "My brothers will be joining," he took out his time piece from his pocket and glanced at it. Harry said no more and retrieved the things for him. "On the house." He said plainly.

Valerie kept a hand clutched around her glass of water and chose not to look at the mysterious man.

Once he disappeared into a more private room of the pub, Harry noticed the girls curiosity. "That's Tommy Shelby. I'd stay away if I were you." He joked slightly. "Why?" Valerie frowned. "Look, they're just not the type of men a girl as pretty as you should find herself around. If he decides that he wants you, there's nothing anybody can do about it. But lucky for you, Tommy hasn't wanted anybody since he returned from France."

Valerie responded with a quick and simple nod. She began re remembering how the men were all sent away to fight for the King in the war. Four years they were away — after being told they'd only be away for a couple of months.

A chair moved from beside her and she turned her head to see a dark haired woman. A silence was kept between them until the woman opened her mouth to say something. "I heard Harry sayin' you ain't from around here. Is that true?"

Valerie nodded once, keeping her foot on top of her bag to ensure it didn't get stolen.

"What made you come 'ere of all places?" The woman lit a cigarette. Valerie shrugged. "My family used to live here." She lied again, trying to make a story that would seem believable.

The woman looked her up and down slowly. "Do you need a place to work?"

Valerie's eyes lit up. "Well, that's one of the things i didn't think about before I came here." She nodded. "Well luckily for you—" the woman paused, waiting for a name. "Florence." Valerie repeated the name from earlier. "Well, Florence, luckily for you the job i'm offering you comes with a place to stay."

"I'm listening." Valerie raised an eyebrow.

"Walk with me." The woman got down from the stool and began walking away. Valerie quickly gathered her things and followed after her. "I didn't get your name!" She called out.

"Just call me Margot." The dark haired women said plainly.

Valerie fell in step beside Margot and waited for her to talk again.

"How old are you, Florence?" Margot asked, throwing her cigarette to the floor. "How old do I need to be?" Valerie avoided answering straight away.

"Well, some of the men here don't give a fuck how old you are. But we would rather you be eighteen at least." Margot shrugged.

Valerie smirked. "Then i'm eighteen."

If Valerie had known what she was getting herself into, she would have never agreed to accepting the offer. But it was too late now. She was in a new place and had no way of making money or a place to stay.

If only she had asked what the offer was before agreeing. Then maybe she would have been able to save herself from what was yet to come.

But everything happens for a reason..right?

©-shelbysecret-

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