XI. 1921

  "YOU ARE ON MY HOOK, MR. SHELBY... and form this moment forward, you belong to me."

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to like that? Get your hands off my brother, you dirty old man."

Both heads turned at the new voice. "Ms. Shelby, pleasure seeing you again." He released his hand from Thomas' neck rather harshly.

"Right, fuck off before I put your head through the wall." Thomas stared at her. Although Vivian could tell he was beyond surprised, he tried to hide his reaction from the man.

Campbell stared at her for a moment before scoffing quietly. As he exited, his cane tapped against the ground, "I'd get well quickly, Mr. Shelby," the major said, now addressing her brother. He stopped beside, continuing, "I'll be in touch the moment I hear you can piss standing up and then I'll send you your instructions."

"Alright, we get, still a dickhead, now, as I said before, fuck off." She spat. He looked her up and down disgustingly.

She followed him with his eyes as he left. She could still hear Campbell's cane hitting the floors of the hospital. As soon as the door closed, Vivian snapped her head to her brother, "rough night Tom?"

—

    IT HAD BEEN TWO YEARS SINCE VIVIAN LEFT. A lot had changed for both the Shelby family and Vivian.

Vivian never contacted anyone from home. She wanted to but she always stopped herself. She had many unsent letters to her family in a box in her bedroom.

It was best to give herself the distance. To have a break. From her home.

So instead she travelled around a bit. After she got bored of London she moved around, going to places like Cardiff, Glasgow and Newcastle before venturing overseas with the last of her money. She ended up in Paris.

She spent her nineteenth birthday there. She had been surrounded by random strangers, wishing her happy birthday as if they had known her for five years rather than five minutes.

In Paris, she found a job as an assistant to a club owner. Le Rouge was a very expensive club to get into. Vivian understood why people paid lots to get in. Sure the dancers were there, many eyes following their every move, but what Vivian loved was the music.

The singers on the stage were always the best; Vivian was the main reason for that. Her biggest responsibility was making sure there was a brilliant singer on that platform every fucking night.

Her boss was a young man who had inherited the establishment from his uncle. He was good to her. Of course he moved a bit too close to her and commented on how she looked too much but she expected it. Vivian, as well as her boss, knew it was nothing more than meaningless flirtatious remarks. He made sure no one came too close to her and paid her well. She had protection and a good salary.

He kept her around because she, without fail, always managed to get an angel up on that stage.

Every few weeks, when a singer would quit, she'd have to go around the city and find someone else, whether it be two days before doors open or two hours. It was never boring. She enjoyed going out last minute, it was a challenge.

After many months in the city of love, she went back to England. She left her boss on good terms, with him mentioning there would always be a job waiting if she came back.

She left one vibrant city to go to a dull one. London was where she ended up. It was 1921 when she arrived.

As soon as she got back she applied for a job in another club, The Eden. It was owned by Darby Sabini, a gangster that owned the majority of the racecourse. Some nights she'd work at the bar, other times she'd work in the back, cleaning up after the musicians.

In May 1921, she ran was shopping in the market, only to come across the one and only Ada Throne, formerly Shelby. Vivian didn't approach her but followed her, confused. She had no contact with her family so she had no idea her sister had moved.

That day, Vivian followed her home, it wasn't creepy, she was her sister. Ada ended up at one of her co-workers buildings. It was on Sabini territory, so it was close enough to the lively side of town.

She stood in the stairwell as Ada arrived home to her flat. Vivian listened as she called through the house at Freddie and her son.

Vivian had forgotten about how much she had missed. Her sister was married with a two year son, the boy would be walking and talking. But she couldn't imagine much had changed in Small Heath other than business.

The next day Vivian asked Angelica, her co-worker, if she knew of Ada or her husband — just out of curiosity she had said — and, conveniently, Angelica knew her. They had spoken and used to mind baby Karl when Ada wasn't in.

Vivian kept her family and Birmingham life to herself. She made the excuse that Ada was a friend of a friend.

It was October, when she found out from Angelica, Freddie was sick. Angelia minded Karl from time to time to give Ada some space to look after her unwell husband.

It was then Vivian decided to make an appearance with a basket of necessities.

—

VIVIAN HESITANTLY KNOCKED ON THE DOOR, HOLDING THE HEAVY BASKET. She didn't know what to bring so she ended her filling the old basket with canned food, vegetables, tea leaves, teddies for Karl and medicine for both parents and child. She snuck a few notes in.

It took at around two minutes before someone answered. The woman that answered the door was Ada, although it took a few seconds for it to register in Vivian's mind. Ada had a paler complexion but now when she stood in front of her, she was sickly washed out.

Ada had dark shadows under her eyes and appeared to have not slept in days, which with the current circumstances, it wasn't a surprise. Her hair was straight and short like it usually was but looked oily. The dress she wore was plain and hung off her frail body. The creases in the cloth showed she may have slept in it.

Vivian could tell she wasn't looking after herself; she wasn't eating properly or sleeping properly.

The young woman in front of Ada didn't appear to be her sister at first. How could this be Vivian? She thought upon seeing her.

Vivian's long hair was gone, a short shoulder-length style in replacement. She wore a sage skirt with a thin silver chain that rested on her off-white blouse. She wore a long black coat on top, quite similar to the boys' coats but it suited her more. She wore dark eye makeup, a gold colour smeared over her eyelid. Her lips were dark red.

How could this be her little sister?

How could this be her big sister?

The look on Ada's face worried Vivian. She stood still with her mouth parted. She saw her already red eyes tear up. She blinked harshly, looking her sister up and down.

There was no more hiding behind the basket for the woman, as she calmly set it on the ground. Ada stared at her for another second before pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. Vivian heard Ada's heavy exhales.

"You're here," Ada whispered.

"So are you."

"What the fuck," Ada muttered under her breath, glancing behind her then back at her sister, "come in, come in."

Vivian was pulled quickly into the house. She heard Karl in the other room, babbling to himself.

Through the evening the two sisters spoke, caught up. A lot had changed in the past year and a half. Unlike Vivian, Ada kept in contact with the family, mostly Polly.

Ada told Vivian of Freddie and Karl. She was happy with her family, but exhausted. When she brought up Freddie's health, she looked away from her sister before quickly changing the subject.

Vivian told Ada of Paris and her travels. Telling her sister of her adventure, made her feel guilty. She had left so abruptly, worrying the family likely while she gallivanted around the place.

Vivian left that evening, only to returned the next day and the day after that. Everyday for two weeks she went to Ada's, either helping around the home or going to the shop with her.

She missed her sister's company and her humour. Neither had been back to their childhood home since they left it behind.

—

    "SO WHAT HAPPENED TO THE FLAT?" Polly asked her oldest nephew. Arthur was stood, facing the table where his aunt, two brothers and sister sat, as well as Martha.

"Not mine anymore," Arthur grinned, swinging his new keys around on his finger.

"You went from here to a nice flat, all to yourself and your whores and now you have bought the house across the road," Tom asked, glancing at his aunt for a moment before turning to his big brother.

"Thomas," Polly scolded.

Arthur nodded, "Yep, bigger place and closer to business."

Vivian looked around the table at the family. Of course she was confused. Ever since Arthur Sr. left, Arthur never shut up about finally getting his own place. He had his own flat a month or two before deciding to move back to the street he grew up on.

"At least John and Martha have more help now that your closer too," Vivian added into the conversation.

"Great idea, sister," John answered.

Martha scoffed, "she's only saying that so she doesn't have to deal with your offsprings," she looked to her younger in-law, smiling tiredly.

John rested his arm behind her chair, his finger drawing shapes on her shoulder, "Our offsprings, love," kissing her cheek.

She scoffed again. She didn't make any attempt to shrug him off her, "oh no I don't take responsibility for their madness, that's all Shelby."

"She's not wrong," Vivian said, her face scrunching up at the lovey-dovey sight, "and could you stop with that," and when John didn't move his arm fast enough, Vivian flicked his wrist.

"Back to Arthur," Polly interrupted Vivian and John's short staring contest, "why bother, no matter where you live you'll always spend more time at the Garrison and you'll always be late for work."

"Too late now, place's bought," he said, downing his glass of amber liquid.

Looking back on Arthur's decision, Vivian was sure he just wanted to be closer to his family, or closer to fresh warm meals made by Polly.

—

    ISAIAH WAS SAT IN THE GARRISON, sulking at the bar. Blood spilt out of his cuts and onto the bar. The bartender kept refilling his glass, frightened to be in trouble with the infamous Shelby family. The bartender who's name no one really cared about had grown used to that particular barstool being taken by the boy.

Beside the boy sat another. The bartender had seen him with Isaiah, either drunkenly laughing with him or lecturing him.

This time, he watched the two boys who portrayed themselves as men, drink whiskey after whiskey, rather miserably.

"What did he do this time?" Ryan asked, looking around the pub he'd been attending since he was a kid following his brother like a puppy.

"He looked strange," Isaiah grumbled.

"How Isaiah?" He spoke to him like a child

"His shoes were fucking me off Ryan alright," Isaiah exclaimed, catching the attention of a few drunks that leaned over the bar counter.

Ryan stared at him like he said something stupid, which he did, "his fucking shoes, of course." He needed another drink to deal with this prick.

"You didn't see them," he argued, as he turned back to his drink.

Ryan sighed, rubbing his face, "You're a fuckin' child."

"Alright, I don't need another scolding."

Ryan scoffed, "maybe you do."

"Not from you." Isaiah mumbled.

"From Vivian?" Ryan questioned, "if she was here, maybe you'd listen. You don't listen to me or your da or Tommy- not even aunt Pol, for fuck sake."

"Piss off."

Every other night Isaiah would start some random shit with someone. Whether it was over a woman or fucking shoes. Ryan, being the more sensible one of the trio turned duo, kept Isaiah in the Garrison where the blinders owned the place and wouldn't get kicked out most of the times. The owner of the Golden was getting sick of them.

It was either a good night or a bad night based on Isaiah. A good night would be him not starting fights.

When Vivian left, he got down. He would sulk around Small heath and then get drunk. Ryan had to admit that his friend had gone off the rails a bit. They didn't realise how much they relied on her.

She'd be the one with the most scandalous gossip. She'd be the one on the receiving end of their nasty pranks. She'd be the one to make them see sense. She'd be the one to laugh at their bad jokes. She'd be the one they practised their horrible flirtatious lines on. If it wasn't for her, they'd have no idea what girls liked.

The two boys were angry at her for leaving but neither would ever say it out loud. Seeing the Shelby family each day without their sister was unsettling. She was always somewhere. Was.

"There they are. My dearest brothers," Kol shouted, but no one took notice of the Peaky Blinder. He slung his arms over each of their shoulders. Ryan almost choked on the stench of sweat and liquor.

"I hear you were scraping," Kol whispered into his ear.

"Over a pair of shoes," Ryan interrupted.

"Were they the stupid pointy brown and white ones with black laces, fucking hate them. Any man that wears deserve to have each of their fingers removed with a rusty knife."

"Can't remember," Isaiah answered while Ryan stared, dumbfounded, at his brother.

"Well couldn't be them then, they're hard to forget," Kol looked to over the bar, "hey, hey you, yeah, get me a glass of whiskey in a beer glass, yea, fill it to the top."

"Yea sir," the bartender obeyed.

Kol smiled, "good boy. Now lads, where's the women?"

"Gone, cause this prick drove them all away with his fists."

"Aw, Isaiah. I have to find myself a wife, if there's no ladies, then there's no wedding and then no-"

"What are you doing out here, sulking about, it's Friday?" John interrupted, grinning as he walking out of the smug.

"Ladies are gone."

"Isaiah is driving them away."

"How do you expected this poor bastard to get a wife." John joked with Kol. They weren't making any sense with the amount of booze they've consumed. Once the bartender set the very large whiskey on the counter, the two friends went into the snug with the others.

The two now sat alone at the bar again, now way more drunk. Isaiah was in a better mood with the help of some many drinks. They were laughing loudly as the pub was at its busiest.

—

Vivian sat in the hospital room staring at him and his broken face. His skin was pale and bruised. He looked somewhat peaceful though. When she had arrived, there was nurse stood beside his bed holding him down. He was asleep but he was shaking violently. She held him down to not let him further injure himself because, lets face it, its his own fault he's in the state he is in in the first place. Now he was still. His breathing was steady.

She wondered what it was like back home. The home she hadn't lived in for over twenty four months. Two years can change a lot. She knew that very well.

She didn't know how to greet her broken brother. She doubted that she would get a warm welcome. Not from him or the rest.

After years of trying to avoid her family, she caved. When she heard about Ada, she knew there was specific person behind this.

—

    notes ; she's back !!! i know this is a very short chapter after so long. cant believe i've been this inactive so i apologise but i'm gonna try get more regular with posting for the next while. tiktok - vvioletneklace.wp