𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔𝟔

John walked forward with a white rose in hand. He sniffed and closed his eyes once, letting the tears fall down and cling to his shirt. John carefully placed down the beautiful flower and stared at the wooden wagon with pure anger in his eyes. "In the bleak midwinter." He muttered to himself, his fists now clenched into fists at his sides.

Looking over his shoulder, he locked eyes with Tommy who stood with his legs apart and his hands clasped in front of him.

He walked back to Finn who was standing with Ada, the pair of them with tears welling in their eyes. John nodded to Finn and he slowly walked forward, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket.

Clearing his throat, he looked to his siblings for reassurance. Arthur had planned on speaking a few words but simply couldn't.

"Thank you for coming today.." Finn began, "to celebrate the life of our beloved Maeve—" His voice cracked slightly and he looked back to Ada and John who both gave him a nod to continue. "Maeve was always somebody who tried to understand me despite living in a different way. She was a good person.. well for the most part."

Finn's innocent comment brought half-hearted smiles to certain members of the family.

Finn stared down at the paper with shaky hands. Deciding he could no longer speak, he looked up once more before returning to Ada's side. Ada grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

Finn's eyes shifted to the only Montgomery brother that had turned up. Cameron. He had turned up despite seeing little of the Shelby girl over the years. He still held so much respect for her. It was clear that he was absolutely devastated.

Tommy looked around at everybody. Isiah was stood with his father and had his head down. Not once did he look up to meet anybody's eyes. Arthur stood silently with Polly.

Finally, somebody else emerged from the crowd. Except it wasn't the Shelby side of the crowd. It was the side full of people who knew Maeve in general and attended to pay their respects. Lillian. She stood with her chin up and took a deep breath.

"When my daughter was born, I made the difficult decision to give her up. Because I truly believed her father, Arthur, would be more capable than I. And he was proven me correct. Although she didn't grow up in the way i'd have wanted, she grew up with a loving family that I could not have provided her with. It was only a few years ago we reconnected and to say i'm proud of the woman she has become would be an understatement. Yes, she isn't perfect. But who is? Nobody in this world is perfect. But oh did she try. She tried her hardest to reach the expectations that people laid out in front of her. No matter how unrealistic they were, she still tried."

The was a pause.

"And Maeve had a strange way of loving people— but that's how you knew she loved you. She didn't show it in a traditional way but.. you'd just know." Lillian nodded her head once, "thank you."

Arthur took a few steps forward and placed a hand on the wagon before leaning his forehead against it. "My girl.. my sweet girl." He whispered, his other hand clutching his shirt. His breath hitched and he shook his head. "You didn't fight through everything over the years just to end up dead this way." Arthur said quietly.

Everyone watched sadly as Arthur practically broke down in front of them. Tommy approached him with his arm extended. "Come on, brother." He said. Arthur shook his head. "She ain't gone, Tom. She can't me." He whispered. Tommy swallowed hard and looked down, urging Arthur toward him. "It's time to say goodbye, Arthur." Tommy said.

Arthur shook his head and stepped backward. "But what if I don't want to?" He asked. Tommy looked at his brother with pleading eyes. "Arthur come on."

It took Tommy pulling him into an embrace to get him away from the wagon. Charlie and Curly began pouring gasoline along the wood that sat underneath the wagon.

Charlie did it with sad eyes and a quivering lip. He didn't want to do it.

Arthur cried into Tommy's shoulder, unable to watch as the wagon went up in flames. Isiah simply turned away, pinching the bridge of his nose as he felt tears gather in his eyes.

"In the bleak midwinter." Tommy muttered to himself. "Say it, brother." He said to Arthur who shook his head in response. "Arthur, say it." He repeated. Arthur lifted his head sadly and looked out to the smoke.

"In the-" he stopped and swallows the lump in his throat. "In the bleak midwinter." He finished.

-

The family gathered around the table. Well, everybody but Finn. Arthur was sat with Lillian who had her arm linked around his. "Where's Finn?" Polly asked. Tommy looked to Isiah. "Go get him from upstairs," he nodded toward the door.

Isiah huffed and walked through the house and up the stairs. "Finn— you in here?" He asked, pushing the door open the Maeve's old bedroom to find Finn sat on the floor against the bed with his head in his hands.

"Is she really gone?" He asked.

Isiah swallowed hard and leaned against the doorframe. "I don't want to believe it either." Isiah admitted. "They want you downstairs." He told him. Finn shook his head and looked up.
"I ain't going."

"Finn, mate, you have to." Isiah said with slight sympathy.

Finn stood to his feet and pressed his palms into his eyes. Suddenly, he felt the arms of Isiah wrapped around him, hugging him. Finn didn't pull away or anything, he hugged his best friend back. Finn knew how much Isiah would be hurting. He loved Maeve more than anything he'd ever known. And she was gone, just like that.

Isiah's breath was shaky and after a while, he pulled away from Finn. "They're all at the table."

Finn nodded and followed him back down the stairs to join his family who had been waiting patiently. Tommy seemed to be the only one who wasn't completely devastated by what had occurred.

"Maeve is dead." He stated once Finn had sat down. Polly scoffed and looked away. "Polly please." Tommy warned. "She is dead," he repeated, "and this could have all been avoided if she'd have done what John did after Christmas 1925 and withdrew her position from the company."

Arthur shook his head in disbelief and Lillian glared at Tommy.

"But she didn't. She didn't because Maeve knew what it meant to be loyal. The reason she remained by our sides was because that's what she promised to do." He said.

John looked away. "So you're saying I ain't loyal?" John accused.

"What?" Tommy looked to him.

"You said that she didn't leave cause she's loyal." John repeated his words. "So is that your way of saying I ain't loyal?"

"No— no." Tommy shook his head.

"No." Polly cut him off. "It was clear you were never meant for the life, John. I've always been able to see it in your eyes. You're different than Tommy and Arthur." Polly spoke.

"Moving on." Tommy sighed, taking out a cigarette. "Maeve would want us to continue. She was always the one eager to defeat our enemies, finish our missions. So from tomorrow, we continue as we were."

"My daughter's dead, Tommy." Arthur reminded him. "And that's what you've got to say?"

Tommy felt a certain anger grow inside him.

"She did so much for you. She stayed by your side even though you were nothing but a selfish bastard." Arthur added. "And it seems you haven't changed a bit."

Tommy slammed his fist onto the table. "I loved that girl!" He shouted, "She was the only person who attempted to see past the truth of who I am!" Tommy pointed at Arthur. "And now she's gone." He continued. "None of you will ever understand what it was like to have her on my side. Never."

And with that he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The room fell silent. Lillian held Arthur's hand in a reassuring way and shook her head.

John stared at the table and shoved his chair away, making his way over to his old office. "John?" Polly spoke up. Ada looked around in confusion. John opened the drawer and rummaged around, finally pulling a gun from it. He checked the bullets inside and held it tightly in his hand.

"What are you bloody doing with that?" Polly asked, suddenly alarmed.

"I'm going to kill the bastard that did this to Maeve." He hissed, saying no more before leaving the house. Polly looked around. "Who is he talking about?" She asked. "Arthur? Isiah?" She looked to them.

Isiah had been leaning on his fist, thinking. He knew straight away who John was going after. Max Montgomery.

"Max." He spoke up. "Max Montgomery."

"Jesus Christ." Polly shook her head. "Is nobody going to go after him?" She asked.

"John's avenging the life of my daughter, Pol. I'll not be interfering." Arthur admitted. "Neither will I." Finn said. Isiah shook his head. "Neither." He agreed.

-

John stormed into the lively London club with his gun at his side. Multiple heads turned toward him but he ignored them. And for the first time in years, his peaky cap sat atop of his head.

"Mr Shelby," a man spoke from the bar with excitement, "what is it that I can get for you this evening?" He asked. John looked around. "The location of Max Montgomery." John said through gritted teeth.

The barman's face dropped and he stopped cleaning the glass that was in his hand. He looked over Johns shoulder to the table at the very back of the club.

John followed his gaze and let out a pathetic laugh before sliding money onto the counter. "Not a word." He instructed, making his way through the crowds and to the table that Max had been sitting at.

He had a girl beside him with her hand down his pants and John swiped the glass from the table, the liquid pouring onto Max's clothes and catching both of their attention.

"Fuck off," He said to the girl. She looked between John and Max. "I said fuck off before I blow your fucking head off!" John threatened, pointing the gun at her.

She grabbed her bag and scurried off. Max looked at John angrily. "What're ya doing that for?" He asked. John grabbed Max by the collar and forced him to his feet. "You've killed my fucking niece. Now i'm going to kill you." He explained.

Max's eyes widened and he struggled to get words out. "I didn't bloody touch her, I swear!"

"No but it was you who sent her spiralling after years of being sober! And look where that's gotten her, eh? She's now dead!" John hissed at him. "Fucking gone!" John sounded like he was on the verge of tears. He pressed the gun into Max's chest and stared him in the eye. "Now the last thing you'll see will be my eyes as I enjoy taking your life from you. I hope you enjoy it as much as you enjoyed destroying Maeve." He said before shooting Max in the chest.

Nobody even noticed the loud bang. It was amazing. Not one head turned, nobody batted an eye. John held onto Max as his body grew limp and he slowly lowered him back into the booth, laying him down.

"Fuck you and your fucking whores." John spat, tucking his gun away and turning the other way.

-

Tommy drove down the long country road with a cigarette balanced between his two fingers. He pulled up in front of a relatively big house and got out of the car.

Upon opening the door, he heard music playing from what he assumed to be the drawing room. He cleared his throat and went inside, somebody sat in the chair that was placed beside the window, a gramophone playing music from the table to the left.

Tommy couldn't see who was in the chair but he knew who it was. The loosely curled, red locks gave it away.

"How are you finding the new house, Maeve?" He spoke up. Maeve turned in the chair and stared at him. "It's beautiful." She said plainly.

Her skin was pale and under her eyes were dark. She was fragile, vulnerable. The most vulnerable she'd ever been. Her hair lay freely over her shoulders and a glass of gin was clutched in her hand.

"How was the funeral?" Maeve asked, standing and walking over to the drinks table with her robe flowing behind her. Tommy grunted. "Sad." He replied plainly.

"And the plan— is it still happening?" She asked. Tommy nodded. "When will you tell him?" She asked.

Tommy took a seat and thought. "Before the end of the week."

"You'll tell him tonight." Maeve instructed. "Do you want a drink?" She asked. Tommy shook his head. "I'm driving," he informed her. She nodded and sipped her own drink. "I deal the cards now, Tommy." She said.

Tommy looked at her.

"I'm the one who will move the final chess piece." She said. "I'm in control."

Tommy found the tone in her voice somewhat unsettling and shivers climbed up his body. "I'll tell him tonight then." He agreed.

"Is he the only one you'll tell?" Maeve asked, returning to her seat. Tommy thought for a moment. "I thought you dealt the cards, Maeve?" Tommy used her words. She raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

"You'll tell my father and you'll tell Finn. That is all." She said.

"Finn?" Tommy asked with confusion. She nodded. "That is what I said." She hummed.

"Very well."

Maeve looked at the wall across from her. Tommy had bought her a new house. It had six bedrooms, a drawing room, an office and a lovely garden. Did she need it? No. But did Tommy need it for their plan to work? Yes.

When Maeve was taken to hospital, something happened that made it easy for people to believe she had indeed died if that's what they were told. She had some sort of seizure and nobody was allowed inside the room. When this happened, Tommy realised that this had happened far too many times. And he proposed the idea that they faked her death for a while in order to do what they needed to do. Of course, with hesitation, she accepted.

Although one part of the deal she refused was to withdraw her position in the company. For one reason and one reason only....

"It's funny, isn't it?" She asked, smiling to herself. Tommy turned to look at her and frowned. "How death has never been able to catch me?" She said, using the phrase she had used many times before. "It's like me and death are running a race together and no matter how many times it comes close to getting ahead of me and beating me, something gets in its way. It doesn't know what it is that gets in its way. But it always stops it from completing the race— allowing me to win."

Tommy grinned in amusement at the way she described death. Despite the fact she had left school and hardly went when she was younger, she still had a creative mind.

"How long are we keeping this act up then, Maeve?"

She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. "Until you're ready to kill the fascist." She hummed, referring to Oswald Mosley.

Just by watching Maeve, he could tell she wasn't herself. It's like she was floating — like she'd taken some sort of magical drug that pulled her away from reality. "You know I never thought I'd live this long." She admitted.

Tommy raised a brow.

"I always thought you'd kill me yourself. But you're not a man of your word, are you?" Maeve said, still staring at the ceiling.

Tommy remembered what she was talking about — that one time he had threatened to kill her.

"And a part of me hoped you would. I had hoped you'd shoot me in the heart." She tapped her chest. "But you never did." She whispered. "And part of me thinks about what would have happened if you did kill me. How all of your lives would be if it happened. But we'll never know because you didn't kill me. Why didn't you kill me?"

Tommy hesitated for a moment. "How could I?" He paused. "How could I kill my own niece, eh? I may not have returned from France the same man but that does not mean I lost the love I held for you. For the little girl you once were. No matter how many things you did wrong, I didn't care. You're our Maeve. Inside of you, the little girl still exists. The little girl who would climb in the bed beside me or your father after having a bad dream."

He paused again. "The little girl who soon turned into a teenager and refused to let anybody say a bad word about her family and let them get away with it. From then to now, you remained loyal to us— even if it meant hurting yourself. And for that, i apologise." He stared at her.

Maeve met his gaze.

"You were roped into a life you didn't deserve to live. Not at such a young age. And if it wasn't for me, you'd not have experienced half the things that you have."

"The things that shaped me into the person I am today." She said. "It's not all that bad," she added, "yes, maybe I was too young or I was misunderstood or whatever it is that you all say about me but I love my family dearly. Even you, believe it or not." She joked. "You've done me wrong, many times, but I always find myself back under your wing."

Tommy nodded slowly. "And that's why i'm proud of you. I shouldn't be proud but I am. You have the ability to do what not a lot of people can. You kill someone and don't even think about it twice— which yes, I shouldn't be proud of. You bounce back every time." He lowered his voice, pointing a finger at her whilst he spoke.

"You'd do the same if you grew up scared of disappointing everybody around you." Maeve sighed. "I saw how much Polly loved you all. And i just thought, I need to be better than them all."

Tommy felt shivers again at the way she was speaking. It was as if she was plotting something but nobody was to find out what it was.

"And it seems I have succeeded. In one way or another, I am better than all of you." She said, not an ounce of cockiness in her voice. "And I became a Shelby through and through."

Tommy swallowed hard and ran a hand across his mouth. "It's getting late." He said, not even glancing at his pocket watch. "I'm to get back to Small Heath and tell your father what has happened."

Tommy took one last look at her and made his way to the door. "Oh, before I go.. your mother and father seem to be something again. I'm not sure what that something is but I don't get the impression that Linda will be returning any time soon."

Maeve nodded, letting the information sink in. As he went to leave, she sat up. "Tommy," she got his attention. He looked over his shoulder. "Give Ada my love, will you? I can't imagine what it's like to be pregnant with a child whose father has died."

Thomas looked at her with sheer confusion and slight fear. Assuming she was delirious or just drunk, he nodded once and walked out the door.

Maeve meant it when she said she was a Shelby through and through. Especially when it came to being a gypsy.. she could see everything.

Something changed in her when she almost died again. Something flipped in her mind. And somehow, in some way, her visions and feelings increased. And there was a feeling looming over her about a man. A man she didn't recognise.

Maeve walked to the table and took a piece of paper and a pencil, sitting down and aggressively sketching the image that kept flashing in her mind.

It was a car with what looked like fire engulfing it. Kids seemed to be laying across the floor not too far from it and some sort of ball.. a football to be exact was too on fire. She stared at it and tried to pick it apart.

Somebody was going to die. And she assumed this somebody had certain ties to Ada. No, she knew they had ties to Ada.

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not proof read properly.