Savage Beast-A Peaky Blinders retelling of Helen Keller

2.

The green doors shut behind Tommy, and the Shelby family was locked away to their secrets and gang business-a family meeting. Finn, still deemed to young for such things-much to his frustration-stayed outside the doors, sitting in the living room with Lily. The girl was settled on the floor next to the crackling embers of a glowing, distinguished fire that held colors forever unbeknownst to her unseeing eyes. She toyed with books that Ada and Pol used to read to Finn, flipping the pages and pretending to read just as she often did the the newspaper. Soon she grew bored and fussy, and stood to look for Polly. Her fingers twitched as she grew agitated when she wasn't able to find her. She groped the air in Polly's usual whereabouts-the kitchen, the sitting room-but to no avail. She started for the stairs, when she froze-someone had kicked a chair in the betting shop, behind the green door-where the meetings were held. She had felt the vibration from the floor under her feet. Finn stood to scurry after her as she made her way towards the movement, determined to find Polly. Polly would not let Lily into the meetings-she knew she couldn't hear the talk of business, blood and money-but she claimed it would still seep into her soul, that Lily would still carry that weight. 

Tommy thought that was rubbish, but Polly was keen on witch lore, and when Polly set her mind to something she could at times be even more stubborn than Thomas Shelby himself. Finn yanked Lily's hand, vexing her. She grunted as she pulled her hand back, kicking the green door. She felt no movement, nobody to come and let her in to see where she knew her beloved aunt must be, and so she kicked again, harder. Soon she was beating her fists against the door, before falling to the floor in exhaustion and anger, wailing and screaming bloody murder. Finally, chairs scraped back and the doors opened. Arthur was the first to reach her, to kneel down to attempt to console the little devil. "You poor little muffin, you. What's gotten into ya-all over the floor like this. What a mess you are." He reached for her, and she slowed her wild kicking, her face red and her hair tousled from working herself up. She grasped Arthurs hand and let him sit her up and run a hand through her curls, and she leaned into him against the material of his suit piece. She loved soft things-they brought her comfort. The rest of the family stood back in quiet shock at the scene in front of them-the little demon child had settled-and in one of her brothers arms no less. John nudged Esme, who shared a grin with her husband, Ada put a hand to her heart in admiration. Even Tommy had a small smile-even if it was barely there and was half hidden by the cigarette that hung from his lips. As soon as the moment started, it was over. Lily scooted away from Arthur and threw her hands out, miming her home made sign for Polly.

 She was clever enough to have created a few signs for herself-one of the few ways she could attempt communication. She had a sign for each family member, and simpler things for "horse", "play", and when she wanted to go to the cut she'd sign for water. She knew by feeling someone's shake or nod that they meant yes and no. God help the Shelby who told her no, because they usually ended up with a temper tantrum on their hands. Lily stood now, and made the sign for tea. Polly laughed, and the Shelby's moved on with their night.  They eventually headed to bed, Tommy last as always (half the time he didn't sleep). Lily was usually in bed first, after Ada bathed her and Pol tucked her in. Occasionally she would refuse to go to bed until late, exhausting the family and being difficult. But tonight wasn't one of those nights. Tommy-sitting on his bed smoking an opium pipe-thought back to the time he found Lily in his room-a place she almost never wandered into to unless she was looking for treats or desired a trip to the horses. She associated Tommy with horses-and she loved horses-so even though she barely ever found herself wanting to be around Tommy-she would stand going to him of her own volition if it meant petting and feeding the horses.

 But that day it was if she really did have a sense of Tommy and what he engaged in. She'd found his stash of drugs, with her rummaging candy seeking hands, and he had found her sitting on the floor with her knees folded under her, cocaine spilt out of a little blue vial on the ground, morphine bottle in one hand and his opium pipe in the other. She'd probably thought the bottles were filled with a sweet drink. Tommy had rushed forward, his arm snapping out and gripping her wrist firmly as he yanked her up from the floor. he'd pried the bottle from her grubby dirt streaked fingers (not without loud screeches of protest from her) and tossed them aside to the ground. He had seized her jaw in a tight viselike hold with one hand, and slid his fingers into her mouth and forced her to open her jaw with the other, making sure her mouth was clear and seeing is she swallowed anything. Her behavior was fine, besides normal Lily behavior, and the fact that she was outraged he was holding her tightly and wouldn't let her go. She wailed as he sighed with relief that she was fine and loosened his grip, letting her go. He'd knelt to the floor, sighing again. "All my supplies gone-but the little hellraiser is safe." He muttered to himself, realizing two seconds later and she could have been dead. He was angry, but his love for his sister and relief at the fact that she would be okay outweighed the prickly white hot sensation of fury he often felt dealing with gangsters and the business. This was his sister, and she didn't know any better.

 Luckily he had been the only one at home at the time. So for the next few weeks when she kept even more of a distance from him than usual and jumped away in anger, annoyance and slight fear from him, nobody knew why. He didn't want Polly al over him about leaving her out of his sight, even if it had only been a few minutes while he had wandered out round the back of the house to take a piss. "A few minutes is all it takes for death or serious injury." Polly was always reminding the family when they shirked their duty of keeping eyes on her at all times to keep her safe. Tommy replayed the scene of him letting go of her wrist, her running away from him as fast as she could, unlaced smudged boots pounding the floor. She'd acted as if he would hurt her. He never had, and never would. He remembered the pain and frustration in his mind that he always felt when she squirmed away from his gentle, rare caresses. 

He'd learnt, though, not to care so much. He'd grown used to it as she grew older. After the war he hadn't felt much of anything anyways, much less enough to care much about his sister not wanting snuggles from him-a war hero, a gangster-Tommy fucking Shelby. But, as the opium helped him drift off to sleep, he remembered in his altered state, just for a second-the pain that festered in his heart at the fact that someone he loved more than himself didn't seem to love him back. 

*authors note: So...yeah having a child who is blind and deaf in the Shelby Household is a lot to deal with, as they are literal Gang members and avid drug and alcohol users-it can be hard to keep Lily safe and separate from it all since she's not like Finn and can just walk away from them and know when he's not allowed something-she simply goes about her business and does what she wants. She basically only knows what she can feel around her.