TROUBLE ━━━━━━━
(shelby sister!oc x peaky blinders)
Peaky Blinders, season one - six
━━━━━━━
IN WHICH, Clara Shelby must
come to terms with the fact
that life is changing for her
and her ragtag family.
( extended summary inside )
━━━...
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☆
1922
CLARA SHELBY HATED BURIALS. She despised them in fact. The morbidness of standing amongst hundreds of other dead bodies while covering a new one with dirt and mud, in hope that the said body's soul had been taken to some place better. The girl lingered at the back of the group gathered, a cigarette she'd stolen from Arthur, clutched between her fingers as she watched the vicar give his lengthy farewell. On one side of the grave stood Ada with Karl clutched tightly to her chest, surrounded by communists. Two red flags were rippling in the wind, both displaying the words 'Communist party of Birmingham, Bordesley' and 'Communist party Kentish Town'. Seeing this, the girl scoffed and the sight earned many disapproving grimaces from the rest of the Shelby family.
As Clara drew in another deep breath of smoke, her eyes flitted around examining her scattered family. Her sharp eyes honed in on each of her family members.
It had been a long two years since the downfall of Billy Kimber and a lot had happened. Clara continued with school and was on track to finish next year making her only the first Shelby sibling to complete her schooling. Out of nowhere, Finn had shot up like a bloody sprout and now towered inches above Clara despite the age difference, (something he liked to relentlessly goad her on). John and Esme had added yet another child to their litter, Pol had become more tense and uptight, especially within the last few months, and Arthur...well he was the usual— drunk and desperate.
Penny and Clara were...well, they were something. There wasn't a lot of names for what you could call it, but they didn't need a name. All they needed was to know that they liked each other a lot more than they should've. Over the past two years, they'd snuck around, sneaking in as many secret kisses as possible, taking more trips to their Havana out of the city. They'd gone to see films, their pinkies daring to touch as the lights dimmed. They lived a lie, their sweet whispers and careful caresses forbidden to be shared around others.
Clara exhaled the excess smoke, her eyes looking towards Tommy as he stepped towards the grave of his late best friend. He was different now too. On the night of Kimber's death, it seemed that any of Tommy that may have lingered from before the war had completely vanished once more, swept away with Grace, wherever the woman had ended up.
"I promised my friend Freddie Thorne that I'd say a few words over his grave if he should pass before me," Tommy spoke up, ignoring the hard glares from the communists. "I made this promise before he became me, brother-in-law, when we were in France, fighting for the King."
"Amen." Arthur gruffly chimed in.
"And in the end, it wasn't war that took Freddie...Pestilence took him." Tommy continued as John's newest addition began to cry and wail. Clara's lip furled at the sound, her nose scrunching in distaste. "—But Freddie passed on his soul and his spirit to a new generation before he was cruelly taken."
