FOR THE ONE WHO STAYED ─ A peaky blinders fanfiction
━ IN WHICH, Elizabeth Shelby has to come to terms with the fact that sharing a name does not necessarily mean family.
━ AND IN WHICH, a father and daughter must learn how to find each other again...
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1916.
Everything in Birmingham seemed so very colourful back then. The forever grey sky blue, the musty canal water clearer, and the black brick houses perhaps greyer, but what they were; unattainable for certain.
The twelve-year-old Effy and the boys from the lane hurried through the shallow alleyways of Small Heath. Effy went first, then Fred, then Jo, after him Eddie and behind his big brother, ran gasping for air little Richie. They were giggling, all five of them, some with high-pitched voices, others with hoarse throats with cracks in the squealing, whose voices were yet to change deeper.
"You slow damsels hurry up, we've gotta get our Jane, yea?" Blabbered Effy at the front like she always did. "Or we'll miss Charlie bloody Chaplin!"
"You sure 'twas him, Eff?" Asked Eddie galloping after the faster ones, pushing the walls around him, hoping to give himself some elan. Effy laughed at that with obscure bitterness, hiding her red face from the others.
"You sound confident for someone who doesn't know what he looks like, Eds, I mean you've never even been to the pictures!" She scoffed from over her shoulder, and the moment those words left her lips, she regretted it instantly.
"Yea but I-I know what he looks like," Eddie tried explaining, "Well, some ideas..y'know the mustache and all.." He muttered the words in such defeat, Effy felt her own cheeks flush.
"Shut up Eddie" Chuckled Fred, his raw deep voice sounding mature and desirable for the girl with black hair, whose cheeks were now even rosier.
They'd seen Charlie Chaplin at the barber, yes, in full camouflage; the clown-like suit, the bowler hat, the walking stick, and most importantly- the mustache. Oh, Effy was certain it was him. Her heart had been beating so fast, then, because her uncle Arthur flashed before her eyes, his cheeky grin and freckled face in the pictures next to her. He always took her to the pictures. And she felt this hipped longing, this crazy, crazy excitement because it was her and her uncle Arthur's thing. She had to meet Charlie bloody Chaplin for him.
It was Effy and Jo who spotted him first as they were walking back from school, and then they went to get Fred, after him the Raymond brothers. And now Jane.
The pharmacy stood tall before them, though emptier. The glass was not as shiny as it usually was, but the same comfort was vibrating from it, and they hoped to God Mrs Smith would give them one of those beautiful, small glass balls from their collection.
"Let's get Jane then, eh?" Smirked Joey as he pushed the door open. The five kids poured inside the shop, one old lady by the counter turned around and her eyes widened at the sweaty youngsters. Behind the cashier stood Mr Smith, short and stumpy, but not nearly as round as he always was. His eyes were drained so painfully, you could see it even behind those humid glasses, which were slanted at all times. His sunny atmosphere was noticeably frail, and the grey strands in his hair looked more like frosted haulm. He was not nearly like this when Effy saw him last time, two weeks ago.
