Act three/ season 4
1924

"Hello, Tommy." Florence said as she walked into his festively decorated house. "Florence," he nodded. Charles ran up to her. "Hello Charlie." she smiled, picking him up.

"Father Christmas is coming tomorrow!" he said excitedly. Florence acted shocked. "Have you been good?" she asked. He nodded quickly. "Then you'll get lots of presents won't you?" she smiled.

Florence enjoyed seeing the excitement on his face, the innocence. The innocence she no longer felt. Times had changed. And they had changed a lot.

"Here, take a seat." Tommy nodded.

"Go on, go play:" she whispered to the boy, putting him down. "So, they're out of prison." he licked his lips. "I heard." she nodded, pouring a glass of gin. "Why did you not mention me to the police?" she asked. "I've been meaning to ask."

"Because, Florence, i need you around." he told her. "You deserve a chance." he continued. "A chance?" she asked. "Tommy i've killed more than five men, how do i deserve a chance?"

"Because, you are a lot smarter than the rest of them, you deserve a life you never got. That big house, for example, the expensive clothes."

"And Micheal doesn't?" she raised an eyebrows.

"Micheal got a good life in a different way, Florence." he said, leaning forward. "He got the love and attention off Polly and your adopted mother, you never. Micheal got to carry out his role with the company and have people be proud of him. Whereas people painted you as some insane teenage girl, which you may be, but you were an insane teenage girl that we needed?"

She listened to his words.

"Am i not still an insane teenage girl?" she joked. "Yes, you are, just not a teenage girl anymore." She chuckled, leaning back.
"I appreciate that, Tom, giving me a chance." she said, taking a cigarette.

There was a slight pause before she opened her mouth again. "Thomas," she began, "i've been getting feelings recently, bad ones." she said quietly.

He tilted his head.

"Someone's going to die, i can feel it. I just don't know who. There's going to be a war." Florence said, staring at the window.

-

"Arthur," John said "Have you checked your post?" he asked. "I just got served the black hand. I just got delivered a black fucking hand to the house, from Luca Changretta." He said angrily.

"Jesus, " Arthur whispered. Ada looked from Linda to Arthur. "Wait a minute John, which one's Luca?" he asked.

"The old man's only son. He was gonna get done for killing a bank clerk in a robbery, so his old man sent him back to New York. You know what the black hand means among the wops Arthur. It's Mafia shit. The Sicilian fucking Mafia. Just check your post Arthur."

"Did you say Mafia?" Esme asked. "Esme, i need to make a call." He told her. "No" she said. "I need to make a fucking call."

She shoved him out the way, grabbing the card of the counter.

"What the fuck is this?"

He chased after her. "Give me it!" he shouted. "Not until you tell me what the fuck it is."

"Give me it."

"What is it?" she asked. "It's from Luca Changretta, Arthur killed his dad."

"I remember," she nodded, "it was Tommy who killed him."

"It was fuckin..Arthur pulled the trigger." John shouted. "All right, it was mercy but it was Arthur. Anyway it makes no fucking difference." he said. "For the Wops it's family. The black hand came here" he told her. "Everybody will have got one. They're coming for us all."

"I bet Florence didn't get one though. She seems to be getting away with everything!"

"She's not even here! Why did you need to bring her up? Florence killed Angel Changretta. She will have gotten the Black Hand. We all have." He hissed. "How come she wasn't in prison with you all? How did she get away with it all?" Esme argued.

John shook his head, not having an answer. "Ask fuckin' Tommy— I don't know, Esme. I don't know!"