𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐗𝐕.
the big fight
❝ NO ONE WAS COMING FOR HER. ❞

BIRMINGHAM,
ENGLAND 1926

♜ ━━━━━ THE WORLD had been busy since Del's little slip off the roof.

Doctor said she'd to stay off her feet for the next week, to ensure that her brain hadn't been rattled out of place, to ensure that the concussion hadn't left any lingering effects. Bedrest sounded horrible, it wasn't so bad but, se had lots of people to keep her occupied. She expected everyone to be f—cking furious at her, instead she'd been fairly smothered with concern and company.

Her da did as much business in her room as he could 'fore he had people to meet elsewhere. Tommy hated leaving, it was good he went but. Him staying round made a girl nervous, it did, made her think it was so serious like she was dying or something. When he went back to business, Del knew everything was going to be orright. She trusted him, even if she shouldn't.

Charlie remained her loyal companion, refusing to leave her side for much else but to provide her with nourishment or use the toilet. Del surprised herself by being glad of his company. Frances claimed it was a blessed miracle.

Miracle or not, Della found herself swamped with Charlie and love and other visitors.

Her gang came for a visit, bringing her sweets and cigarettes and even a glass shard from Georgie in case anyone tried to kill her while bedridden. Her cousin, Karl, visited and gifted her a jar of worms and dirt. It was strange, good but. Choked and tearful, Polly had hugged the girl close and reported that even if she climbed another roof again, she'd whack her into next week. Del believed her.

Arthur spent an hour with her, scrubbing a rough hand over her hair and called her a mad little f—cker who wanted to put him in an early grave. She took it as a compliment. Even Mister Alfie Solomons from London had heard of her tragic fall, and he sent flowers to mean 'get well'. Tommy did not like this. Del was chuffed. When Ada came to see her, her aunt lingered in the door with a popped hip and pursed painted lips.

Lounging back in bed, Del arched a brow, "Just gonna stand there, eh?"

"I might, if it'll keep me out of your messes." Ada teased, smirking, "Causing trouble?"

"No more than usual."

"Not true, Della, given your track record. Planning on bashing your brains out again?"

"And leave you as the youngest girl in the family? Not a f—cking chance."

Ada grinned, crossed the room, and tapped her on the shoulder, "Move, little trouble."

Della obliged so her aunt could plant herself beside her on the cot, crossing leg over leg, expensive heels hanging off the edge. She was as fashionable as ever, hair perfectly styled and her coat grander than most she'd ever seen. It seemed Boston, America was suiting her aunt just fine. Still, Del missed her. She was so tired of missing people.

"Heard youse got arrested."

"Only for a bit," her aunt replied mildly.

Apparently, while she was busy being unconscious and that, Ada briefly got arrested by the police. Or it might have been the military, it was a bit unclear. Anyway, the girl was disappointed she missed such a thrill. All the exciting things happened when Del had a concussion and was at death's door.

"Yea? You orright?"

"Fine, if a bit annoyed."

Del hummed offhandedly, "Shame they didn't keep you."

Ada snapped to scowl at her, an indignant smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth, "No f—ckin' manners at all."

Del instantly laughed and curled up beside her. D—mn it, she missed her.

Later, when Della was technically supposed to be 'resting', Finn came to disturb her peace. Far past midnight, Charlie was snoozing in the cot that was once her best friend's, and he stayed asleep while Finn barged in. Her best friend trampled into their old room with an appreciative glance and a scrunch of his lips. Del watched with an arched brow as he whacked her shoulder with the back of his hand.

"Shove over."

Del shoved over and Finn planted himself at her side, yawning as he stretched out his legs and put his dirty boots on her blanket. F—ckin' b—stard.

"I've gifts for ya."

Her eyes narrowed in tentative excitement, "Yea?"

It seemed too good to be true. The last time Finn got her a gift was... well, never. Still, he reached into the first pocket of his coat and then pulled out a gun. A wooden one. Del fairly shrieked with glee. Their wooden gun was worn with use and with time, as it had been used in many fierce battles and bloody wars during their shared childhood. They'd had it for ages and it often led to knock—down—drag—out brawls over who got to use it, so often that Pol kept confiscating it and they kept stealing it back.

Della'd nearly forgotten that Finn was the last one to steal it.

"For your protection."

"Thanks, Finny."

Winking and holding a conspiratorial finger to his lips, the boy who was basically her elder brother reached into the second pocket his coat and then revealed a half full brown bottle of beer.

"Ah, Finn. You're a f—ckin' saint."

"Thought you'd approve."

Del put down the gun and gratefully took the bottle. She took a long swig, feeling the bitter flavour pass her lips and slip down her throat. She gagged and made a face 'fore taking another big sip. Her best friend snickered and took it back to have a sip of his own. Though they'd grown distant in years past, Del and Finn had never lost their friendship; she thought perhaps it merely went dormant for a while. Like a bear hibernating or some kind of virus, like she read about in books.

"Guess what, Del? You'll never guess."

Del raised a brow, "If I'll never guess, Finny, then why d'you want me guessin'?"

"Smartarse." Finn shot her an annoyed glance 'fore pausing to proudly announce, "I got me own place now."

"You haven't," she was appropriately impressed.

"I have. Artillery Square. You can come and stay, you know, when you need a break from it all."

She exhaled sharply, "You mean, all the f—cking time?"

He laughed a little, they both knew it wasn't a joke but. For a while, they lapsed into a comfortable silence In addition to Finn's newly developed characteristics once he'd reached puberty, he had acquired a maddening air of supposed wisdom. Della could feel it coming even now.

Finally, he murmured, "It's harder than I thought, Del."

"What is?"

"Being a Blinder. The life."

Concerned, she slid closer and rested a hand on his shoulder, "You orright?"

"Yea." He cleared his throat and swiftly shook his head, "I mean, 'course."

In a flash, Finn was snuffing and wiping quickly at his nose with his sleeve. She wished she could tell him that he didn't need to do that, not with her. He didn't need to be a man and play tough. They were still best friends, and he could still still show her his weakness. He moved on and she let him but.

"You know there's gonna be a boxing match, Della."

"Yea?" She shifted in the bed, putting her chin on her knees, "You mean Bonnie Gold?"

"How do you—?" Finn stopped and sighed, "Yea, with f—ckin' Bonnie Gold."

She nodded sagely, well and truly curious now, "He's really fighting Goliath so?"

"Yea, that big b—stard from Camden Town." Her best friend's eyes lit up and his face stretched into a grin, "It's gonna be a night to f—cking remember."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

On the night of the big fight, Adeline thought she was going to get into a fight of her own.

Once more, Della and Polly were having a standoff.

"We ladies are dressin' up, Lamb. And you're no exception."

This was Ada's idea; she f—ckin' knew it. Forget the police, Del herself would kill her the next time she saw her. Her murderous intent must've shown in her eyes as Pol lightly tutted and stepped further into her bedroom. Del backed up instinctively, keeping space between them. Paying her no mind, her great aunt set the box on her bed and pulled free a flood of fabric.

"Blue. To match your eyes."

"Ah, Pol..."

Polly simply smiled, but there was a very specific arch to her brow and quirk to her lips. When Pol wore a face like that, there was no moving her. No shaking her. She'd be wearing the f—cking dress. Della scrunched her lips and gave up arguin'. Her aunt tugged it over her curly head and buttoned it into place, adjusting and twisting and clearing of lint. Then, Polly took Del's shoulders and guided her 'fore the mirror.

The girl was surprised by what she saw. She was still a bit bruised and banged, but strangely enough, she found the dress wasn't... horrible. It was comfortable and soft. It had low hips flowing with loose ruffles, a bow at the side, and glittery bits round the collar. Yea, not horrible at all, really. In fact, it was actually quite lovely.

"You look like your mother."

That shocked her, "Do I?"

"Mm. First time, too." Polly smoothed over her curls, smiling softly, looking a bit far away, "So often I think you look like Tommy, but... today, you're all Greta."

Del smiled back, "Thanks, Pol."

As it happened, looking like Greta didn't keep Della in a cheery mood for long.

As it happened, Della was all dressed up with nowhere to be.

King Hall was roaring with people, choked with men and women humming with excitement about the upcoming fight. Johnny Dogs was already takin' bets, and she put seven p on Bonnie Gold. The man winked at her when she did so, and she'd gotten the feeling she'd chosen her fighter right.

The place was utterly covered in boxing posters, and the girl's Mary—Janes echoed on the hollow floor as she strode along behind her father and uncles, her hand clasped round her brother's. Tommy at least permitted Della and Charlie to attend the fight — to keep them close, for safety's sake, but they weren't allowed to see anything good. The change room was the closest she was gonna get.

Mister Gold and Bonnie were already there, prepping and preparing for the fight. Shirtless and bouncing, Bonnie had his gloves on and looked ready to hand out a pummeling. Yet again, Del felt infinitely hard done by. What a thing she was missing... Charlie seemed to sense her ever—increasing frustration and her little brother peeked up at her, squeezing her hand. She squeezed back twice.

Everything was all right.

"Bonnie—boy!" Uncle Arthur gleefully charged into the room, trying to pass over one of those little blue bottles, "There we go, boy. Bring out that f—cking tiger, eh? Go on."

"Tiger's already out," Bonnie replied steadily, turning down the Tokyo.

Del suddenly liked the older lad even more.

Her uncle shrugged, "Fair enough."

Mister Gold turned an eye down onto Tommy's own children, smiling faintly, "This one looks like she's been in a fight herself."

Strangely self—conscious, Della flushed a faint pale red and lightly touched at her bruised eyes and broken lip. Tommy's hand landed on her shoulder as if to steady her, as if to reassure her. He gave no excuse on her behalf, no apology for her appearance. She liked that. A lot.

"The only fight she's been in was with the ground, managed to win but." Finn responded with a snicker, "Reckon Della will share her good luck with Bonnie tonight, won't you, Del?"

"F—ck off, Finny." Del smoothly clipped back, spoken through her sweetest smile, "Bonnie doesn't need luck, do you, Bonnie?"

Tommy raised a brow but didn't scold her on her choice of language. For his part, Bonnie grinned at her, still bouncing in place, and Mister Gold chuckled and tipped his hat 'fore pulling his son aside for some final words. Her uncle Arthur laughed and rubbed his hands together, nearly buzzing with barely constrained energy.

"Been caged up too long, brother." He was already halfway out the exit, "If the women are going to have fun, so am I!"

Del arched a brow up at her da, Tommy just shook his head at her but. Uncle Arthur would always be a mystery to them both. She'd debated for only a second to pester him again about the matter of attending the fight, she left well enough alone but. She knew when she was beat. Besides, if she couldn't convince Tommy, she decided to try Finn. He was weak. Del could use that.

As soon as Tommy, Bonnie, and the others filed out the change room, the girl latched a hand on the back of her best friend's coat, dragged him back, and put on her best negotiating face.

The older boy saw through it immediately, "F—ck no."

"Ah, come on!"

Finn quickly shook her off. Undeterred, Del bounced round like a little rabbit, hopping between him the exit 'fore he could reach it. Isiah stood in the doorway, waiting for his friend, with a raised brow and an amused smirk on his lips. For his part, little Charlie sat on the bench and watched it all with wide fascinated eyes.

"Finn, I'll beg, I'll borrow, I'll steal, I'll do f—cking anythin'!" The girl whined, tugging childishly on her youngest uncle's coat sleeve, "Please, please let me come with...?"

"No bloody way, Del, I ain't gettin' in a fight with Tommy for you."

Isiah snorted and Del shot him a glare. He snorted a second time and hid his face behind the wall. Bloody arsehole. With an offended sniff, she spun back round and looked up at her best friend with big beseeching eyes.

"Come on!"

Grinning, Finn pushed her head to get her out of the way, "No."

"What happened to the old days?" She chucked a fist at his shoulder, bumping her hip against his thigh, "You and me, mate, we used to be so close! Whatever happened to us, eh?"

"Stay in or we'll miss the starting action—,"

"I'll miss all the action if youse don't let me come!"

Isiah rolled his shoulders back, "Better you than us."

Son of a b—tch.

"Don't do this to me, lads! I'm begging ya, and if it'll help, I'll get on me knees!"

Her best friend palmed her face and then shoved her further into the change room. Following Finn's speedy exit, Isiah promptly closed the door after him, and Del rammed into it full—force, knowing they'd pushed themselves up against it just to piss her off.

"You'll rue the day, lads! You'll rue it!"

The twelve year old kicked the door in a huff.

Charlie blinked up at her, waited an appropriate stretch of time, and then asked, "Della... will we play something?"

"No." Del grumbled, laying on the bench with the back of her hand cast dramatically over her eyes.

Charlie sat on the floor across from her, head cocking to the side, "Why not?"

"'Cause I don't want to. Why d'you think, Charles?"

He sighed pitifully and she sighed back.

"Please? We'll... we'll two—up for it?"

Removing her hand, Del turned her head to arch a brow down at him. Wherever he'd heard of two—up from was a mystery. Then again, her brother'd more than likely heard it from her. Their da didn't have much use for it anymore. Being posh was f—ckin' boring.

"Please Della?" Charlie scooted closer, tugging on her blue dress sleeve with little hands.

The girl groaned loud and long before she paused and then smiled to herself.

"Fine." Della sat herself up, reached into her pocket, and then displayed two coins, "Heads I win, tails you lose."

Charlie beamed from ear to ear, "Orright!"

Del just sighed in dismay, shaking her head down at the boy. How did she end up with some dim fancy brother like this? She almost felt sorry enough to tell him the truth of her deal. Almost.

In synchronized motion, the two siblings tossed their respective coins and both leaned towards the ground to check the verdict when they landed. Two tails stared back at them and Del nodded in approval, swiping both coins and sticking them safely back in her pocket.

"Tails you lose."

Charlie huffed at the injustice and trudged off to find his own entertainment. Poor Charles.

In the distance, Del heard the ring of a bell and then the roar of the crowd. Insult to f—ckin' injury. Groaning, she shoved herself to her feet and paced the small space like a caged tiger. Cheek on his palm, Charlie boredly watched her walk round the space. She hated to be kept out of the excitement, any excitement at all, especially when the rest of her family was in attendance.

They'd be in the fourth round by now.

At least Bonnie Gold was holding his own against the big b—stard so far.

Ah, to h—ll with it.

Del didn't care if she got whacked into next week; she wasn't going to be kept out of the excitement any longer. With a determined huff, she turned to the door, put her hand on the brass knob, and gave it a twist. Charlie's eyes widened and he shot to his feet.

"Della, where're you goin'?"

She rolled her big eyes, "Where d'you reckon?"

He slipped away from his chair, Charlie, and eyed her with worry, "But Daddy says we're not allowed to leave—,"

"Charles." Del sucked in a low deep breath, "Swear t' God, you say what's allowed or not, I'll whack you meself. Right?"

"Orright," he murmured softly.

At his tone, Del tensed and glanced back to see him sinking deeper into his chair, chin tucking and practically wilting like a flower. The girl herself wilted just a little, resting her forehead to the door.

"Sorry, orright Charlie? 'M sorry..." She gnawed on the skin beside her thumbnail, "Just stay here, and if one of the lads comes back, you tell him I've gone to the bog, eh?"

"I will."

"Good boy, Charlie."

Della'd just opened the door and had one foot out when she caught sight of something strange down the hall. Her spine straightened and her breath caught up in her throat like a rock she'd tried to swallow.

He wore a fancy pin—striped suit and a small mustache that covered the length of his upper lip. Tanned skin and dark hair slicked back with grease. Out of place in the long supposedly guarded hallway. The man's dark eyes met hers, and they both stilled like they'd been caught doing something they shouldn't. He had a gun, this much was evident to Del when her eyes flicked to his hand. He had a gun and he wasn't one of her father's lads.

He followed her gaze, tensed, and then looked back at her face.

Adeline swallowed.

There was no going back.

In an instant, the gun was raised and he was sprinting for the change room. Del flung the door shut, twisted the lock, and then slammed her back into it hard enough to cause bruises.

"Della?" Charlie jumped and fumbled off his chair, pupils blown wide with fright, "Della, what's wrong?"

Her chest was heaving, her roots sweating. Her feet dug in, and shaky hands pointed quickly across the room. She couldn't speak for a terrifying heartbeat, throat too dry to make sound.

Finally, she choked out, "Fetch me that chair!"

"Why?"

"Now!"

Del was shorting orders just as she was tossed forward by the man colliding into the other side of the door. Charlie gave a yelp, dragging the chair over to the best of his ability. She snatched it from his hands, tucking it under the handle, knowing already that it wouldn't do any good.

The man slammed into the door again.

The lock whined, the wood began to splinter. Charlie jumped and hid behind Del, hands clinging desperately to her skirt. The girl backed them away slowly, arms instinctively spread to shield him behind her.

Shaking hands threaded through her hair, "Orright, uhm, Charlie, time to hide, eh?"

The door banged again, and there wouldn't be much time left 'til he broke it down.

Del grabbed her brother's scrawny shoulders and rushed him towards the wall, yanking open a spare cupboard and then linking her fingers so he could climb in. The small boy slid easily in on the third shelf, tucked in between the cloths and whiskey bottles.

"What—?" Charlie was watching her with wide eyes, grasping for her wrists, "What about you?"

"He's already seen me, hasn't he?" She pushed Charlie further into the cupboard, Del, covering him in towels to keep him from view, "Whatever happens, whatever you think you hear, you stay in there."

"What if—,"

"You listen t' me, Charlie, this is f—ckin' important!" Del snapped, voice taking on an unusually menacing tone, sounding strangely like their father, "Stay inside, and you don't come out 'til Da comes back for you. He'll come back for you — always."

Charlie watched her for a long moment, and then he slowly nodded.

She was shaking, Del, unable to get any air into her lungs through the short tight breathes she was managing. She thought she was 'bout to pass out, her vision was growing dim, ears starting to ring. Charlie was looking up at her still, expecting the world, expecting some sort of reassurance.

Del gave the best she could.

She stuck out her little finger, trying to ignore how it was shaking, "You... You promise it?"

"Promise it." Charlie whispered, linking his pinkie round hers.

Then their thumbs curled round and touched to truly seal the deal. Her lips quivered into a smile and she pressed a nervous kiss to the top of his fringe.

"Good boy, Charlie." Del was tryin' and failing not to bawl, petting his soft blond hair, "And close your eyes too, right?"

Del didn't wait for a response, slamming the cupboard closed and tripping as far as she could away. And in her next breath, the door had burst open and the girl flinched back when the Italian strode in, pistol held high, blood trickling down the side of his face.

The ocean was roaring in Della's ears, overwhelming every other sense of her body until this was all she could hear or feel or think.

Roaring. Roaring.

When she was smaller, much smaller than she was now, Della'd always known she'd be on the receiving end of a barrel. It seemed like the natural progression of things, really, her da's dangerous legacy that became her own. She'd never questioned it, it'd never even scared her. It'd be an adventure. And when her time came, Del always thought she'd be brave, she'd fight hard, she'd be strong.

But he was a grown man and she was only little, and he'd overpowered her in a second.

Del shook and willed her body into action, joints popping and clicking when she jolted forward. Her feet slipped across the concrete as she grabbed onto the man's arm, struggling against him, grabbing for the gun. One crack across the face with the pistol had Del on the ground, blinded by the sheer pain of the blow. Her body connected with the hard floor, and she choked out a hoarse sort of cry. The sting was immediate, so startling that she didn't have time to react to the two hands wrapping round her ankles. In her blindness, Del tried to crawl away, scrambled to get free. The man tightened his grip round her legs and dragged her roughly across the floor, closer and closer to him.

"Stop!" Her voice was silent at first, croaking in its panicked ascent into a scream, "Let go, get off—!"

The Italian had her now, one hand coming up to clasp a cloth over her nose and mouth, soaked with a smell so sweetly assaulting it made her eyes burn. Her body thrashed like a fish on a hook, knowing already it didn't have a chance, knowing already it was about to be gutted.

"Get off me, you b—stard, f—ck off!" Del screamed into the cloth, feet kicking and back arching as she struggled, "No, stop—! Let me go—!"

Her fight grew tireder, weaker. No matter what she tried, she could feel her arms going slack, her spine loosen, and legs dangle. Through eyelids falling helplessly shut, Del watched in terror as he dug a hand into her hair. With a fistful of curls, the Italian had yanked her head back in a terrifying instant, her temple waiting for the bullet, her throat open for the blade.

No one was coming for her.

No one was coming for her.

No one was—

And just when she feared he'd scalp her, the Italian slammed her face down into the concrete.

Del left a puddle of blood, and then she was gone.

━━━━━━ annie speaks ━━━━━━

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