ACT: THREE
CHAPTER xxvii: ' irish, jews and italians! '

           There was little time for a break in the time Eli had reopened her shop. It seemed most had dearly missed her and her never-ending supply of clothing and perhaps, even boosted of her abilities to the others who had yet to step foot in the dressmakers on Linenhill Lane, resulting in double the amount of her usual customers. All in all, it appeared Small Heath was more than happy to have her back in business.

The new wave of customers had forced Eli to bring in her secret (or not so secret) weapon: Rose Montgomery, the mini Eli with a passion for all things pretty and pink. Rosalie handled pressure well and her dreams of dresses of silk and chiffon and lush designs had her eager to work for her elder sister... in return for something of course. She wasn't dumb, she knew how to get her way and so that's why Eli reluctantly agreed to make her brand new dresses every month for a year.

Truthfully, Eli was more than pleased with how packed and busy her shop was in the week she'd reopened, with the help of a few of her mother's friends helping her get the place back in order — the amount of dust and spiders had been more than Eli had been able to manage on her own. But with her new busy schedule she was able to keep her hands full and her mind occupied.

Distraction was an easy coping mechanism that everyone subconsciously succumbed to from time to time. Eli found she didn't want to focus too much on the fact her parents were still caught up in the catastrophe of a country being torn in half back in Ireland; and the fact her sisters were now completely her responsibility considering she was their sole guardian in England. So she busied herself with her shop and it was working just fine so far.

Polly hadn't been round as much as she used to. At first, Eli just dismissed it as she was busy down at the betting shop but she'd come to realise it was more than that. There was a sadness lingering around Polly's shoulders; an air of darkness and gloominess, something Eli couldn't ignore if she tried. But it was also something Eli hadn't had the chance to speak with her about. Not yet anyway.

The day was just dying down towards it's end when Tommy Shelby walked in the door and gained the curious glances of the three old women in the corner discussing which dress would look better on them. Eli and Rose were standing behind the counter with Rose serving the customer at the till while Eli watched over her shoulder to make sure she was doing it correctly. The older Montgomery's eyes snapped up to his in acknowledgement of a new customer before quickly dropping them back to what Rose was doing as she saw the customer off.

He approached the till and waited until the customer had turned to leave until he stepped forward for a word with Eli. Rose's eyes shifted between them suspiciously, leaving only when her sister gave her a harsh push in a silent way of telling her to fuck off.

It was the first Eli had seen him since the family meeting a week prior. The following night she'd heard from Polly that he had landed in hospital for "another reckless Tommy thing" and then that he'd discharged himself to boat his way to the Jews in Camden Town to discuss the Italians. It was safe to say, he'd had an eventful week to himself while she got her shop back in order.

Tommy's eyes followed the hand Eli brought up to remove the cigarette from her lips and frowned. "I thought there was no smoking in your shop? I can remember a time you insisted upon the freshness of the fabric."

An amusement smile worked it way onto her face as she stared back at him. "Well, that's the benefit of being the owner, I can bend the rules for myself." Eli was a good liar and she'd lost count how many had fallen for her charming wit and smile. She was a quick thinker and she had always been able to divert unwanted attention.

But Tommy? Tommy was used to liars, good and bad. He was an expert on them because he was the best of the them. So he didn't rise to take her bait, instead planting an inquisitive expression on his face, one eyebrow higher than the other and a challenging look in his eye. "Oh? And you're no longer as strict about the smell of ash?"

"No." Eli answered, watching him with caution written in the slight narrow of her gaze. "I'm not."

"So you don't mind if I have one then?" Tommy questioned, getting a hint at victory with the way her jaw clenched and unclenched at his request.

Although, he'd forgot Eli was as stubborn as he was in her absence and she wasn't about to let him win the unspoken challenge between them. "Go ahead."

Tommy kissed his teeth lightly at her answer and pulled out his cigarettes and matches, successfully lighting one without her telling him off. The atmosphere between them was fairly different from the last time he'd been in her shop. He remembered the day he'd called in to see if business had returned to normal after John told practically the whole city, she was in business with Blinders. He remembered how light and airy her aura had been, carefree and luring and he noted how it was now: reserved and defensive, ready to attack if the situation called for it.

The year before she left was calm, nothing unusual. Tommy went through a mourning period, detaching himself in emotion to everyone in close quarters. Business and money were the only two things on his mind. He'd seen less of Eli, only ever seeing her when she was with Polly or those few fleeting times in the Shelby kitchen where they'd share a drink together in the wee hours of the morning when all the rest were asleep. Nothing new or exciting happened to their friendship, nothing bad happened either so he was left to assume whatever had caused her change in demeanour was a consequence of what happened in Ireland during her year away.

"How was Derry?" He asked, rolling the cigarette across his lips.

"Eventful. How was Camden Town?" She retorted quickly, smirking at the annoyance spreading across his features.

"Eventful." He echoed back at her dryly. "Pol's been talking about you."

Eli hummed. "I've been informed I'm an interesting person to talk about."

He shot her another dry look. He was beginning to think Polly was right. She was too much like him at times. Tension flickered between them, enough to build a wall around them to separate them from the other three customers and Rose who were still at the other end of the shop. Tommy didn't pay them any attention though and neither did Eli. It was only them; all their attention, all their energy pointed at each other like loaded guns, waiting for the other to pull the trigger and release them from the statement they'd found themselves encased in.

"You went for a funeral but stayed for a year." Tommy's words were harsh and cold and haunting. They were the bullets that shattered the brick wall around them to sharp pieces of glass and every one of them lodged themselves in Eli's skin, some even finding their way into her lungs where every breath cut deeper than the last.

Eli slowly dropped her gaze to the tiny cigarette in her hand, discarding it in the new ashtray she'd placed on the counter and dug her hand into her pocket for her match box and cigarette case for another one. It was true, she'd left to attend her cousins funeral. A boy of seventeen years of age shot on the street and left for dead while his blood ran down the drains. She was supposed to return after it but instead her parents re-emerged themselves in the fight as violence grew to new lengths their home had never seen before.

"Polly says she hasn't seen you without a smoke in hand since you came back." Eli put down the lighter slowly, refusing to look up at him as he spoke and focusing her gaze on her hands that were starting to shake the longer they went without a cigarette. "I know what someone trying to hide from their own mind looks like, love, and from what I've heard from Pol and what I've seen for myself — you've got all the symptoms."

He stared at her, unblinking and full of interest while she stared at her hands, unblinking and full of desolation until her sharpened gaze returned and she snapped her eyes back up at the customers, chatting away oblivious to the drowning conversation the Shelby and Montgomery were having at the till. She didn't want to wait for them to finally tune in and walked away from Tommy to the back of the shop were the fitting rooms and her sewing station was.

"What happened in Ireland, Eli?" Tommy's voice was soft this time, following her into the back, and Eli concluded she had missed his voice more than she'd allowed herself to realise. She turned to face him and Tommy felt the torment in her oceanic irises.

"You've seen war, Tommy. France was bombs and bullets and death; death of men, death of horses, death of hope." Her eyes glazed over with tears as she continued, "But you haven't since the war in Ireland. You haven't seen families being blown up in chapel while they prayed for peace. You haven't seen kids no more than ten years old holding pistols and shooting at armed soldiers. You haven't seen your home enveloped in so much violence it physically petrifies you that you or your family might be the next victims of it. You left the war in France and I left the war in Ireland but the mind doesn't let it go, does it?"

Confusion bred it's own war in Tommy. He hadn't realised the depth or magnitude of the situation in Ireland, or maybe he just hadn't cared. Especially not with the IRA forcing him into an assassination nor the aftermath of Inspector Campbell telling him he could hold it over his head however the hell he liked until Tommy did what he said. The Irish weren't his problem. He had other things going on. But even then, he could not hide from the emotions Eliza Montgomery forced from him, like a puppet on a string he was at the mercy of her controlling his every move.

Suddenly, without thinking, without prior evaluation of how his actions would play out, he sprung forward and placing his calloused palms over the bone of her shoulders. He lifted one hand to wipe away the tears that rebelled against her commands to remain in place. "No, it doesn't." He answered honestly, sincerely, genuinely, allowing his inner turmoil where the shovels and the demons of his mind played together to spring to his eyes, their sharp class threatening to pierce the cornea of his eyes in an attempt to reach the same turmoil in hers.

"The mind doesn't let go of war. Because it's scared, it's scared of everything that happened, everything that could of happened, everything that will happen. But you can be scared and still carry on, Eli. You can survive the war and survive the aftermath — despite the bombs, despite the bullets and despite the fucking fear. Because there are things in this world worth it, and trust me, you can have every fucking one of them, if you only just say the word."

Eli couldn't help the sniffle or the tremble of her lip at the immensity of everything he'd just said and the level of understanding in his tone. "The world's not gonna give me everything I want, Tommy."

Tommy smiled down at her, a devious smile that threatened to unleash an ravenous blanket of fire across the entire world while they remained in their own little bubble of safety, like he would damn the entire world to ash and char with nothing left but him and her.

"Then take it."

author's note.
ten days of writer's block for this?! worth it.
this is BY FAR my favourite chapter yet i think. let me know if you think it's a little out of place to have this scene so soon after they haven't seen each other for a  year... like was it too soon?

I just felt like all the pent up emotion of both distancing each other  over the year  after s1 and the year spent in different countries would have just exploded something like the way it did in this chapter? idk anyways pls let me know what YOU think of it!