If I Can't Have you

(6) Apologies

"Somethings on your mind," Freddie hums.

They'd been in France for 5 months at this point, but he knew his best mate and that's how he knew it wasn't just the war that was playing on his mind.

"I'm fine," Tommy replies.

"So we're lying to each other now?" Freddie scoffs, flicking Tommys forehead.

"I messed up," Tommy sighs, running a hand through his cropped hair, that was still littered with dry mud from the mornings tunnelling session, "and you can't tell John or Max, or even Arthur."

"What did you do?" Freddie asks.

"On our last night, Jemima and I... we were slightly tipsy, and may have sort of slept together." Tommy tells him.

"You're two consenting adults, it's none of their business. As long as it was mutual and respectful." Freddie says, and Tommy grimaces.

"For fucks sake, Tom." Freddie groans, "what?"

"I may have woke up the next morning, panicked and told her she was a mistake, before storming out of her house." Tommy says, "I didn't mean to be a dick."

"You never do, it's just your personality."

"I just wasn't expecting to wake up beside anyone, let alone... her." Tommy scoffs, "she's Johns best friend, if he finds out I said that to her, he will castrate me. It's not like I didn't mean it, what we did was a mistake, it shouldn't have happened."

"Did you speak to her at the station? Have you sent her a letter?" Freddie queries, "at least fucking apologise, even if the actions were mistakes, calling her one was a low blow."

"I fucking know that," Tommy replies.

"So you two fucked... does that mean you don't hate each other?" Freddie asks.

"No, she's still just as much of an infuriating bitch as when we first met. She still pisses me off." Tommy states.

"Hate sex is the best sort of sex," Freddie exclaims.

Tommy doesn't dignify that with a response, instead pushing himself off his bed, and lighting a cigarette.

"Was it good?"

"I'm not answering that." Tommy says, "I'm not talking about this with you anymore."

"That means yes." Freddie smirks, "maybe I'll try my luck when we get back to Birmingham. She's pretty."

"Fuck off," Tommy mumbles, taking a drag from his cigarette.

-

"A letter arrived for you this morning," Ada says, handing it to Jemima and walking into the older woman's house, rubbing her hands together trying to gather heat as she came in from the cold.

"Me?"

"It looks like Tommys handwriting." Ada tells her.

"What on earth would Thomas Shelby write to me for, eh?" Jemima replies.

"I don't know, open it and find out." Ada encourages.

Jemima sighs, peeling the letter open, "I'm sure this wasn't meant for me, probably a mistake."

Sorry,

TS

"Why is he apologising? Tommy never apologises." Ada says, snatching the letter from Jemimas hand.

"I don't think anybody knows what goes through his head," Jemima shrugs.

-

1916