𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃
chapter 37

Florence kept her head bowed as people placed roses down for John. She didn't want to believe that he was gone. Not yet. She wanted to hold on to him as long as she could "We're like sitting ducks here if the wops come." Finn said anxiously.

"Yeah well Tommy said we should do it out in the open." Uncle Charlie said to him.

Florence wiped underneath her eyes, placing a rose down. "Till we meet again." she whispered, stepping away, keeping her distance from the wagon.

"This is how John wanted to go. On the smoke, and the truth is, we died together once before. Arthur, me, Danny Whiz-Bang, Freddie Thorne, Jeremiah. And John." he spoke. "We were cut off from the retreat, no billets left, waiting for the Prussian cavalry to come finish us off. And while we waited, Jeremiah said we should sing in the bleak midwinter." he nodded. "But we were spared, the enemy never came. And we all agreed, that everything after that was extra. And when our time came we would all remember."

"You'd remember that God spared you." Polly's voice was shaking. "But what did you do with that extra time that he gave you, eh, Thomas?" She looked at him harshly.

He didn't give in to her attempts to argue and instead helped pour the gasoline onto the wood. Florence watched as Arthur stepped beside her, holding back his tears. She held his arm.

All of a sudden, a gun sounded and Florence covered her ears.

"At ease, at ease! Do not return fire! Tommy said. "I repeat, do not return fire. Stand down." He tried to calm everybody. "The men doing the firing, are on our side. I took the trouble of getting an invitation to Aberama Gold."

"Ah fuck, now it's begun" Johnny said with disbelief.

"You put us out in the open on purpose!You bastard, you used Johns funeral as a fucking beacon!" Polly scolded her nephew.

"We were never in any danger," Arthur said. "You set a trap!" Polly shouted.  "Finn. Go to the yard and light the fires." Tommy nodded.

"You set a trap with us as fucking bait." Polly shouted. "Who is dead?" she asked. "Our enemies, Pol." Tommy said. Florence shook her head. "Unbelievable." She said.

"Who's dead?" she asked again. "You wanna know Pol? Two fucking Italians who heard about the vendetta, trying to make a fucking name for themselves, that's who! We got word to them, about the funeral" Arthur nodded. "the where, the when..told em where to stand for the best shot. And Aberama Gold will do the rest" Tommy said with frustration. He looked toward the men on horses "That's the language of Vendetta. They take one of ours, we take two of theirs."

"You used your own brother's funeral!" she spat. "When did we vote on this, Tommy?" she asked.

"Curly get the boat ready to take the bodies to the city. And another for anyone who wants no more part of this." he shouted. "Cause this is how it's gonna be."

"Get yourself together." Florence said to Tommy.

-

Florence walked into Arthur's home which seemed empty. She hasn't been to his house on Watery Lane in years. "Arthur?" she asked, walking into the front room.

He sat, his hair messy, his face wet with tears. "I can't do it, Flo." he whispered. "Cant fucking do it" his voice cracked. She sighed, kneeling in front of him.

Arthur fell forward, falling into her arms. "I can't." he repeated. "Yes you can, Arthur." she rubbed his back. "We can do it together, like always."

"My fucking little brother, died on his own doorstep." he cried. Florence closed her eyes, holding him tight. "Arthur." she pulled away.

"We will avenge Johns death, it'll be one of us two. Not Tommy, not Finn, not Micheal. Either me or you." she said coldly. "Because we are the only ones truly capable of doing it."

He forced a smile. "Yeah."

"Luca Changretta's time will come, Arthur, i promise. It'll come sooner rather than later. I'll make sure of that."

-

Florence's sat in Tommy's office and looked toward the door as it opened. "Mr Shelby, this is Monsieur Paz, from Paris."

A man entered with his head lowered. Tommy examined him. "I heard you had trouble. It's good of you to see me." He spoke with a thick, American accent.

Florence sat straight in her chair, observing him, Luca Changretta. She knew straight away.

"You just came from Paris, eh?" Tommy asked. The man hummed and undid the top button of his jacket as he sat down. "You know Paris?" he asked. "I left Paris in a cattle truck. And they said you were french." Tommy cleared his throat.

"Well, i came here from Paris..that does not mean i'm French." he leaned forward. "Guess where i'm from."

Florence leaned back in amusement.

Tommy nodded, grabbing his cigarette. "Well, in my cattle truck in Paris, there were American soldiers who played cards." he said, lighting the cigarette. "They sound like you."

"Yeah. But did you win?"

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

"I have a tailor in New York City," the man pulled the jacket to the sides. "Look, Funacci, Italian, hm. He's my uncle. He makes suits in a basement of Mott Street. He is my uncle so every stitch, stitched with blood. I heard you dress well Mr Shelby, but now i see, not so well as me." he looked over at the girl, squinting.

Tommy stayed quiet, staring at him coldly. "You know i have uncles as well," he finally spoke. "But they're not the sort of men who would work in a basement with a needle and thread,"

"Mr Changretta." Tommy said. He looked at Tommy, grinning.

"I am surprised how easy it was to get into a room with you."

Tommy pulled out his gun, pointing it at him. "And now?" Tommy asked. "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, we found your gun." he whispered, pulling out bullets from his pocket.

Tommy double checked the gun. Florence sat straight and kept her eyes on the man.

He placed a bullet down. "Arthur Shelby," he whispered. He placed another. "Polly Gray," he continued, "Micheal Gray," he placed down more. "John Shelby.." he knocked that bullet letting it roll across the table. "Spent." he whispered. "Ada Thorne,
and finally Tommy Shelby. None of you will survive." he whispered.

Florence stood, pulling her own gun from her waist band, cocking it. "Funny, because you're missing a name, Luca," she tormented. "You're missing the one person you need to kill before she kills you." Florence said.

She took a bullet from her gun, throwing it to him. "Florence Gray." she whispered.

Tommy grinned at her behaviour.

"You should be more worried about killing her than any of us." He told him.

-

"I'll sit in the front," Polly said. Ada rolled her eyes, getting into the car.

"So this is just to make things official." Polly said as they walked up, meeting Lizzie on the corner. "Your official return to the company payroll." Ada said. "So no more talk of New Year's resolutions or Tommy might change his mind."

"What New Year's resolution?" Lizzie asked. "Never mind," Ada laughed.

"I think Ada is trying to tell me to behave myself." Polly sighed.

They walked into the hospital, joining them inside Michael's room where Tommy sat.

"Sorry i'm late." Polly apologised.

"Where's Arthur?" he asked. "Do i look like his fucking Mother?"

Florence remained standing behind Michael's chair, folding her arms. "Sit down, Florence." Tommy said, placing his glasses on his face.

She stared at him.

"Sit." he repeated. She bit her tongue and pulled a chair, carefully sitting down.

"Right before we start this extraordinary general meeting, of the board of the Shelby Company Limited, i'd like to note the absence of the Deputy Vice President who has not yet arrived. We will continue without his presence."

She glanced down at the paper in front of her.

"Item number one, the reinstatement, of the Shelby Limited company treasurer," he looked toward Polly. "The board welcomes back the former treasurer with generously improved terms and conditions due to the exceptionally difficult circumstances the company now finds itself in. The proposed treasurer will now check the terms and conditions. To see if they are in order. Item number two, during the absence of the company accountant, due to ill health, all responsibility for the keeping of company accounts pass to the head of acquisitions." he looked at Micheal.

Florence rolled her eyes and grew bored, ignoring the rest of the conversation. She didn't give one shit.