If I Can't Have you

(1) Invitation

Hi guys, have I written another story about our favourite Brummie gangsters? Obviously.

'To say it's love, would be too simple, too obvious. It's more like a calling, a vocation, something they were put on this earth today. Now they're shooting with the stars and flying with the angels, and their heartbeats are symphonies the closer they get to each other.
They never saw it coming.'

- Meatloaf

1910

"Stephen, you're wrong,  you just look like a prick, shut up." John Shelby inputs, from where he was sat with his head resting on his arms, looking like he was about to fall asleep on the table.

Two of his classmates were in a heated discussion about something to do with Henry the Eighth and the order of his wives. Now he didn't actually know who was right, but Stephens voice fucked him off besides he was arguing with Jemima, she was the smartest person in the school.

"Oh, what do you know? As if you actually know how many wives he had, let alone the order they married in." Stephen retorts, and John sits up in his chair, looking at Jemima who was discreetly holding six fingers up in his direction.

"He had six wives." John replies, "and use that tone with me again, I'll knock your teeth out."

-

"John," a female voice calls after him as he heads for the school gates, "wait up."

He slowed his gait, checking over his shoulder to see Jemima fast approaching until she was walking beside him.

"I just wanted to say thank you for inputting during class," Jemima says.

"You really don't need me to do it, you're smart enough to win any debate. I'd just had enough of his voice, me inputting did nothing to help you." John replies.

"Is that really what you think?" Jemima queries, steadily walking beside him, tilting her head upwards in thought.

"Look, I'm not the brightest. Me inputting in an intellectual debate, why would that help anyone?" John retorts.

"It's not about the content provided." Jemima replies, "it's simply that you are a man, and you are scary, they are more likely to listen to you for those reasons alone."

"You think I'm scary?" John inquires.

"Well, it is what your family strive to be known for." Jemima quips, "besides when I met your Dad, he terrified me."

"My Dad is a cunt, whatever he said, don't listen to him," John mumbles, "we're not scary."

"If you insist," Jemima teases, "I should be getting home, thank you again."

"Anytime," John says, giving her a small smile.

-

"Hey Ma," John greets his mother, hanging his coat up on the rotting wooden rack.

"Beautiful Jonathon, how was school dear?" Lavinia replies.

"Was alright," John shrugs.

"No friends for me to meet?" Lavinia frowns, "I thought you said you'd bring them round."

"They were busy today, Ma." John says.

"Then give them more notice, I expect them round for dinner next Thursday. Tell them tomorrow," Lavinia states. "Of course, Ma." John nods, "where's Arthur and Tom?"

"They're with Freddie, helping Charlie down at the yard." Lavinia informs.

"Ada?"

"Upstairs with Finn," Lavinia says, John gives his mother a kiss on the cheek, smiling at her, before running up the stairs to his younger sisters room, ready to annoy the fuck out of her, and play with the youngest brother.