It Was Only Supposed to Be Business

Derby Day

The moment Thomas Shelby dropped me off at home, my life turned upside down. I quickly packed my bags as Charles forcefully brought me to his estate in the outskirts of Manchester. Charles resided in a grand, old home, but it didn't feel like a home. It felt like a museum- cold and lifeless. The house was beautiful, but it didn't compare to the small, crumbling structures we called homes in Birmingham. Our homes were rundown, but they were working, breathing homes.

I was locked in Charles's place for a week, and I deeply missed my mother and James, who were still in the south, working. Living with Charles and his twin daughters, Mary and Martine, was like being thrown into a snake pit. They were constantly nagging me and critiquing everything I did. On bad days, if I did one measly thing to upset Charles, he would wack me like an old dog. With him, I was constantly walking on eggshells.

"My little good luck charm, how are you feeling, hmm?" Charles called as we sipped our breakfast tea. He bored me to death! His personality was sucked out of him, and instead, status and money oozed out of blood. The worst part was that he expected me to be the same.

"We're ready to go to the races, Father." Martine and Marie Charles's daughters declared as they rolled on their silk gloves. I prayed I wouldn't have to spend a minute with them. They were completely self-absorbed, much like their father.

On our way to the Derby, I squished between Mary and Martine in the back of Charles's Rolls Royce. Sitting inbetween them was like sitting beside two giant heads with only one facial feature- a mouth. Their scrunched up faces and snooty statements made me want to throw myself out of the moving car. It seemed like the only way to escape.

At the racecourse, working-class men and women scattered across the ground, drinking cheap beer and smoking cigarettes. As much as I wanted to join them, I sat with the upper class as they pressed binoculars to their eyes. The roars of bookies were far in the distance, but their raspy and husky voices flooded my ears. I could hear a Brummie wherever I was.

"Charles! I hope you placed your bets on that black stallion!" One of Charles's friends exclaimed as Charles squirmed with apprehension in his seat. My eyes were glued to the ambitious bookies, taking bets at the edge of the track. Their operation was a lot more interesting than horses sprinting in a loop.

"May I use your binoculars for a moment?" I asked Charles's friend, yearning to get a peek at the stallion.

"Who owns that horse? It's an absolute machine!" One of Charles's friends was elated as we all gaped at the black stallion who left a lasting impression on the sea of spectators.

"A man named Thomas Shelby. Say, he's going to be a rich man after today!" Another man praised, catching my attention. I didn't react to Thomas's name as Charles would have flipped in his seat, but I thought the stallion looked familiar. It was Bullet!

"I have to go to the betting den! I can't take this!" Charles panicked, storming out of the stands. The minute he left, I focused the binoculars on a group of well-dressed men not too far from the track.

"Arthur," I mumbled under my breath. A magnetic feeling pulled me out of my seat, and in my heart, I hoped Thomas was standing behind his brothers.

"Arthur Shelby!" I greeted as I approached the group of striking men. Arthur was front and centre of the race with his younger brothers John and Finn appearing from the crowd.

"Miss Yardley! It's a pleasure to see ya'! Ain't it Boys?" Arthur teased, glancing at his brothers.

"Always a pleasure!" John smirked, agreeing with Arthur. I felt at home around the Shelby brothers. Maybe it was their warm greetings or familiar voices, but whatever it was, I dropped my silly walk and talk and embraced being myself again.