𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕𝟖

Maeve walked into Arthur and Lillian's home. "You alright, love?" Lillian asked when the girl stumbled inside. "It's late." Lillian frowned. Maeve looked around the room. "Where's dad?" She asked.

Lillian looked over her shoulder and nodded to the kitchen. "Is everything alright?"

Maeve nodded and walked into the kitchen where Arthur sat drinking. "You almost lost a kid tonight, dad." She said. He turned, startled by her presence. "You what?" He asked.

"I almost killed myself."

He put his drink down. "That's not funny, Maeve."

"I'm not joking." She shook her head. "It was you that gave out the order to Duke that if Finn wasn't to carry out the task of killing Billy, he was to walk away from the family— be banished. And I told myself before going there tonight that if I had to watch another person die— more specifically Finn, I'd shoot myself in the head." Her eyes were empty and cold.

Arthur shifted in his chair. "But you're still here. Finn did it?"

"No. I did." Maeve said. "And I told Duke that if he ever tried to do that again i'd put his head on my wall." Maeve said. "We're supposed to be family, dad. Finn is your little brother. And it is because of you, because of Tommy that he didn't do what he was asked to do. Because you never included him in what youse did. He never got to understand our ways because you did not let him." Maeve scolded.

There was a pause.

"And if you'd have thought for one moment that I wouldn't have defended him— clearly you don't know me."

"I had a hunch." He said plainly.

"Be lucky that I had a gun tonight. Be lucky that I ordered Duke to fuck off, that I stopped him from banishing Finn. Otherwise it would have been my funeral you'd be attending." She whispered.

Arthur stared down with regret and stood, trying to embrace her but she just pushed him away, feeling overwhelmed.

"Dad— I love you, I really do. And i'm so proud that you're clean. But Finn is just a boy.." Maeve whispered. "Who has been searching for love from his family since he entered the world." She placed a hand on her chest. "You have all failed him." She scolded. "You all owe him an apology— but even that would not be enough to fix his heart."

"I'm— I'm sorry, Maeve."

"It isn't me who you should be apologising to." Maeve shook her head. Arthur rubbed his forehead. "No, it is." He refused. "I'm sorry for everything. For being a shit dad.."

"Dad.." Maeve sighed.

"No, Maeve. I should've been there more, for you. I should've realised we were living the same hell." Arthur spoke. "But I was too caught up in the war that was in my head to realise that you were too fighting a war." He said. "And i'm sorry, Maeve. I'm really sorry."

Maeve gave in when feeling her heart grow heavy. "It's alright, dad.." she assured him when seeing his teary eyes. Maeve wrapped an arm around him and heard his exhale. "I love you."

"Yeah— I love you too, my darling." He whispered.

-

Isiah entered his and Maeve's bedroom where she sat cradling Lennon. She didn't look at him, she just stared at the wall. "Maeve?" Isiah asked. He could feel the tension coming from her. The way he had acted that night had bothered her deeply.

"How could you?" She asked shakily. "He's my Uncle— one of your closest friends. Lennon's favourite person. And you did not care about the torment he was put through tonight." She scolded him. "How dare you."

Isiah swallowed hard, knowing he had done wrong.

"I went to see my dad, Isiah. And do you know what I told him?" She asked. He shook his head slowly. "Of course you don't.." Maeve scoffed. "Before we went to Arrow House," she began, "I told myself that if I had to watch another person die that I love, I would shoot myself in the head." She finally met his eyes and watched the colour drain from his face. "Duke almost killed Finn. Do you know what that means?"

Silence.

"I was mere moments from killing myself." She said. "But I didn't. Do you want to know why?"

"Why?" Isiah asked cautiously.

"Because I have a child. And a husband that I love. I promised that to myself, Isiah— that i'd die the same night another person I loved did. But I could not bare the idea of Finn being harmed. He has gone his whole life living torment— I couldn't take it anymore. So that's why it was I who held the gun to Duke's head and not my own. Because I knew I was not going to allow the torment to go on any longer and I sure as hell was not going to let some bastard child banish my own uncle!" She raised her voice.

Her lip trembled. "And you stood there and watched as Finn was humiliated— as he was told to kill his best friend. You watched! And you encouraged it!"

"Maeve—" Isiah had regret and upset plastered across his features.

"No, Isiah. You're going to apologise and tell me you love me. That's what everybody fucking does. And I accept the apology every time because I cannot cope with more weight being added to my heart. I love you too much to walk away. So I won't. But know that if you ever stand and watch something like that take place again— actually, no." She paused. "You won't get to watch something like that happen again because I will not allow something like that occur once more. Especially not to Finn. He has dealt with enough."

Isiah bit the inside of his cheek. He didn't speak. He didn't have to speak. Maeve could see his regret. She could feel it. She didn't want him to apologise.

She was sick of apologies.

-

Tommy appeared, approaching the table that the family sat at. They all began clapping, forcing smiles as they knew this was some sort of goodbye. Maeve was holding back tears that had formed the moment she had sat down.

"That's enough," he cleared his throat. "Thank you all for coming, well at least I can say that I am one of those rare politicians who actually makes good on his promises," he pointed a finger, "Country estate— requisitioned to make way for houses for working people."

Lennon played with a lock of Maeve's hair and Maeve shared a glance with Finn who sat beside her. She reached for his hand and let out a breath.

"I improved my own home with good intentions and one thousand five hundred pounds of dynamite. Now i'm back where we began, with horses and caravans. Vagabonds and thieves." Tommy looked around. Frances, one of the maids, stood. "Frances, sit down please."

He filled a glass of champagne. "I'd like to raise a toast, a simple toast." everyone stood. "To family." He nodded and raised a glass.

"To family," they all repeated.

"Sometimes, it is shelter from the storm. Sometimes it is the storm itself—" he nodded. Charles looked at his father with sad eyes as he sat back down.

"I'm planning on going away for a bit. After i'm gone, Ada, in this family, it was you who was born to be a politician, not me, remember that. And if ever a seat is to become available in this ugly old city, you should run." He smiled.

Ada chuckled lightly. "Where's Arthur, Lillian?" Tommy asked. Lillian took a breath. "He went for a walk down the river, said he's not good at farewells, so he decided to go catch a trout instead." She said.

"He told me to tell you that, "where you're going, Tommy, there will i be. Very soon, love Arthur." Lillian read of a small piece of paper.

Maeve's face fell slightly. Arthur was aware of Tommy's illness as she was. And he was aware of Tommy's plans. She worried that Arthur planned on doing something.. to himself.

Ada frowned. "How does Arthur know where you're going, Tommy?" she asked.

"You watch him, Lillian. You love him. Charles, i want you to look after your mum, you tell her i'm sorry, you hear me?" Tommy said regretfully."I want you to be the.." he stopped, turning around when his voice broke, a lump in his throat.

"Exactly how long are you going away for, Tommy?" Ada asked with concern. He ignored her, walking around to Duke, Curly pulling him to a hug first. He kneeled, whispering to Duke.

Maeve scowled at the boy and watched as Charles looked defeated.

Tommy nodded at his uncle, walking toward the caravan. "Is she hitched, Johnny?" He asked.

"Tom—" John frowned, worried that there was more to what was going on than they thought.  Ada stood, walking after him. "Tommy you tell me right now where you are going," she said in a panic. "You have to carry the bucket on your own this time, Ada." he whispered.

"Tommy, you come to me with everything. You always come to me." She pleaded.

"Not this time, not this one, sister."

"What the fuck does that mean. Where are you going?" she watched as he walked off. "Tommy!"

But he didn't make it far because Maeve jumped up from the table and ran after him. "Tom—" she groaned. He turned and the second he did, she threw himself at him, embracing him tightly. She began sobbing. "Please, Tom." She whispered. "I can't— I don't want to think about what's going to happen. Tell me you're gonna be okay." She said.

"Maeve, I can't lie to you. I won't." He squeezed her.

"You're— you're my uncle. You've done so much for me." She cried. "And I love you Tom— you helped me." She said. "I love you, Tommy." She pulled back to look at him. Tommy wiped a tear from her eye. "I love you, Maeve. I always will." He said.

She gave him one last hug before he pulled away and walked off. Maeve felt a small presence at her side where Lennon had held onto her hand. "He'll be alright, Mummy." He looked up. "Blame the doctor." He said.

Maeve's heart skipped a beat. "Blame the.. doctor?" She whispered. Shivers climbed up her spine. An all too familiar feeling. "What do you mean, my boy?" She kneeled. Lennon laughed. "Uncle Tom is fine!" He exclaimed. "Doctors don't know." He mumbled.

Maeve's heart was beating like crazy.

And that was when Maeve realised that her son was like her. His gypsy half ran strong. He could feel things....

-

𝟏 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑..

Tommy lay on the grass hill alone, outside the small wagon he had been staying in. The sound of a bird woke him and he sat, shielding his eyes from the son. Tommy reached for the bottle of whiskey that was almost empty.

Sighing, Tommy glared at the wagon and stood, walking hesitantly toward it.

He placed his gun down on the table full of pictures. His eyes grazed over each of them. Grace.. Polly.. Ruby. He put his ring down, his pocket watch, all the things he had.

Tommy looked out to the hill, lighting a cigarette. This is what the flip of a coin did. It's what it determined.

He picked up the gun once more and stood at the door and pressing it to his head. "In the bleak midwinter." He told himself. Suddenly, a voice..

"Dad, come outside!" he heard, "dad it's me!" The cheerful voice filled his ears.

He stumbled out, running when he saw Ruby coming toward him. Tommy picked her up. "Did Polly send you? Did Polly send you? Or am i dead already?" He rambled.

"No—" she spoke. "You're not dead, you're not even sick!" She smiled, holding his face.

"But i am, my darling." Tommy frowned. "I am sick. Sick like you was."

"No, not true. I know it, you've got to live, daddy." she argued. "You let the fire go out. Light the fire again and get warm and you will see, you must live." She pleaded.

Tommy looked back, Ruby no longer being stood there.

He kneeled down beside the fire, pulling a piece of a newspaper which displayed Mosley and Diana's wedding where his doctors had attended, the Chancellor Hitler attended also.

-

"Have you filled the car with petrol?" Holford, Tommys doctor, asked. "I said, have you filled the car with petrol?" He repeated, assuming the steps he heard were somebody else/

Tommy grabbed him and covered his mouth and holding the gun to his head. "How was the wedding in Berlin?" he asked. "I hear Chancellor Hitler himself was the best man. You've been my doctor now for three years. I never knew you were so well connected, oh and the doctor at St Thomas' who you send me to for a second opinion. She was a maid of honour at the same wedding. Also very well fucking connected. On your knees, Holford." He hissed.

Holford breathed heavily.

"I'm guessing all you people decided that the only person that could ever Thomas Shelby, was Thomas Shelby himself. You made me believe death was coming, let my nature do the rest, eh?" He asked.

"You may not have tuberculoma Mr Shelby. But you are sick, i know you. You are sick with guilt. Sick of death at your own hand. Sick of who you were. You are no longer the kind of man who would kill another man in cold blood. Tommy, you have been on a journey from the back streets to the corridors of power. You can't go back. You are a different man. The gun no longer belongs in your hand." He accused/

Tommy stared at him. "Oh, but i am back. Back from under the ground. Close your eyes, close your eyes—"

But before he could shoot, a bell rang out and Tommy lowered his gun.

The doctors don't know....