Seven

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"All I know is that your the nicest thing I've ever seen, I wish we could see if we could be something..."
-Kate Nash






Freya slipped into the pew next to Polly, speaking no words, just allowing the church to swallow her. Peace enveloped her body and she closed her eyes for the briefest second before doubt seeped into her. Could she be here? Would God forgive her for what she had done? Polly looked peaceful here, God bringing her forth into a new life, even if for a second. It was something Freya could envy and respect. A month had passed since she went to Thomas' house to be briefed on the plan to kill Finnigan. Once again she would play the role of a seductress. She felt more prepared this time. She no longer had the anchor around her neck dragging her desperately down to the depths of the sea. She could see how it felt to Ada now when she stole that bit of cough syrup. For when she walked with the Shelby brothers she saw what power was and what it meant to have it, even if she only had it as a cast off. She was nothing but the smallest rung of a ladder, but they treated each member of the Peaky Blinders as though they were family. She found herself enjoying it all, despite her desire to eventually leave it all behind. Maybe one day she would run off, go to Wales, or maybe even France. But for now, she was complacent and content with what was happening. That alone, she felt, God may not forgive her for.

"My hands are bloody," she whispered to the air, hoping in some way it would reach the ears of the father and she would be forgiven. If he had she would never know, but Polly had. Her eyebrow raised slightly, her face remaining stoic. She had learned quickly the members of the Shelby family were full of emotions when speaking to one another, but outwardly they were calm, and calculated, their feelings hidden away like sins.

"I have done terrible things, and for that, I ask forgiveness." She spoke again, careful to dance around confessing any direct crimes. She had never been truly religious; her mother had been far too busy grooming her to teach her scripture. But she could not rule out the higher power above and around them, so if he would listen to the lowly prayers of a girl in Small Heath, then she would speak them.

She had married Lee in a church like this one, dark and dusty. He had smiled at her in a way she understood now was controlling, looking forward to having someone to take care of him for the rest of his life. She had worn a white dress, at her mothers insistence, to show off her purity. She hated it, it had been heavy and hot and she thought during the short ceremony she would die from the heat. She had been so happy when Lee had held her up by the arm as though he could tell the distress his wife was enduring. How much of their marriage had been a charade? So much of it, she had to realize with the empty presence of the house. When she stared around the small abode now she realized the only thing there that was hers was her books. Everything else was for him. She had nothing of herself to enjoy. The first night she was home she burned those books in the fireplace, smiling in a trance-like state as the pages burned up. It was symbolic in a way, she was no longer a fairy tale trapped in their lines. She was a princess of her own design, living a new life in a new world.

"I pray for Tommy," Polly whispered to her so quietly that Freya was concerned that she had not heard it at all. "I pray for his safety and his soul." She did not look at Freya, instead keeping her eyes to the front of the room. Freya was uncomfortable with the emotional opening. Every emotion from this family was a danger to her. And for every person the most fearful of Thomas, she knew that the most dangerous of them all was Polly. Polly was upfront and harsh, but stood down from Tommy, but Freya knew the lengths that Polly would go to, with a light heart about it. People feared men because they were large and brash, but they should fear women. Women were creatures of shadows, seen and not heard, and when you cannot hear your enemy, you have already lost. It is the keeper of the secrets that has the most power, she learned that from her stories, and Polly held them all, tightly wound within her.

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