Savage Beast-A Peaky Blinders retelling of Helen Keller

16.

Lily had her own room in Polly's home. She was there to stay for a few days-she had missed her aunt dearly, and her aunt had missed the child all the same. The room was filled with a trunk of dolls with soft curls, and there were old playing cards of John's for her to flip through. Other toys and trinkets were scattered on the floor from hours of play. Soon it was dinner time, and Michael watched as the girl shoveled food into her mouth. He had grown used to the girl, and the girl had grown to like him, often tugging him by the arm into her room to play dolls with her. Suddenly, commotion erupted, and Michael Shelby was ripped from his new home, Polly shouting after him as the police grabbed and pushed at him, leading him to a police car. It was the dirty work of Campbell-so rotten even Lily might crinkle her nose in disgust from the scent of a rotten soul. Lily felt the thundering of footsteps and crashes of things falling, and she rose from her chair, shoes clattering on the floor as she ran to her room, hand against the wall to help her find her way there. There she stayed until Polly tearfully came to find her, to see the child rocking back and forth against her bedframe, huddled on the floor in fear. 

She was back home, now. Polly sat over the girl, who was crumpled at her feet, dress wrinkled. The door to the betting den was open, and Polly was smoking a cigarette in worry as Tommy breezed into the door, coat out behind him like a black trail of death. Tommy stood straight, listening to John give the current news relating to business, when Polly started to interrupt. But Tommy was having none of it, hand up to his aunt, telling her to wait until business speak was done. He didn't mean it to be cruel-it was just how he was-cold and calculated, always trying to play the game and be smart about it. He wanted to deal with an emotional family matter after he could process and start planning about the business information first. But Polly was frantic, hounding Tommy until he put his hand up again, voice raised as he yelled "ENOUGH! Enough, Polly." He rarely yelled, and it was as if even the deaf child somehow sensed it, as she stilled on the floor by the table where Polly had previously been sitting. But Polly wasn't done. "I am taking Michael away from this family. This life is bad." She shook her head, already planning for what to do when and if she got her son out of prison. She grabbed hold of Finn, and gently gripped Lily by the arm and hauled her up. "What are you doing?" Finn accused. "Shut up and walk." Polly shot back to him. Lily tripped over her feet, and Tommy shook his head silently at Polly's antics, knowing she would be back, and Finn would be back, and the that his aunt would bring the girl back to him. She couldn't deal with Lily alone. Hell-nobody really could. The only person who could possibly handle her maybe would be Tommy himself-but he didn't want that job. He had business, always had business. But he did it all for the family. It was his own way of taking care of them. 

Tommy had Lily back the next day. Polly had the maid bring her over, dealing with a brim of emotions after Michael was released but resentful of how Polly had gotten him released by sleeping with Campbell. It was a rather disgusting thing, but she had wanted her son out and safe so badly, she did whatever she could. Lily followed Tommy, walking slowly behind him, chittering to herself happily. She knew they were going to the yard. That morning, Tommy had made his fingers dance in her palm, which was her homemade sign for horses. She had been warming to him ever so slightly-after all, many mornings and nights it was just the two of them, until the other family members, blinder members or betters showed up. Then the commotion of the day would start, and Lily would get lost in entertaining herself and rummaging around the flat, or helping the maid gather eggs from the chickens and such. Just last week Tommy had watched through the windowpane as the girl tossed feed to the chickens, and squatted down to gather the eggs. She knew where they nested by heart-she didn't need eyes or ears for such things.

Finally, the walk to the yard was over, and Lily trotted over to a pile of sweet smelling hay, burying her face in it with a sigh. Curly stopped shoveling horse shit, freezing when Tommy himself shrugged his coat off and grabbed a pitchfork, and began to help with the dirty chore. "Why are you doing that, Tommy?" Curly asked, pitchfork in the air as he watched Tommy shovel with strength and a quick ease about him. "To remind myself of what I'd be if I wasn't who I am." Tommy replied simply. Lily lay in the clean hay across from them, grabbing fistfuls and tossing them in the air. She liked the way the hay tickled her face when it landed on her cheeks. This continued-Tommy shoveling shit with Curly watching in awe, and Lily rolling gently in the hay with glee, until Uncle Charlie appeared. By that point, Tommy was done, and he handed the pitchfork to his uncle, grabbed his coat, and asked for six cans of petrol. He informed Charlie that Lily would stay at the yard for the afternoon with Curly and her Uncle Charlie-of course they'd be happy to have her stay for the whole night, Charlie said-and then Tommy was off, stalking into the smoggy cold atmosphere that was Small Heath, Birmingham. 

And there was Lily, sitting up with hay in her hair as she grinned-joy on her face although she could not hear her Uncle Charlie as he spoke to her, telling her about his day, and even though she could not see the beautiful horses in the stalls across from her. Even though she could not see, hear, or speak, and even though her rage and tantrums dominated much of her life, the littlest things could make her happy. 

Curly and Uncle Charlie thought that was wonderful. 

*authors note: Poor Lily getting startled when Michael was arrested. :( But also I love how she can be made happy by the smallest things. Her world is so small and limited, that it doesn't take much to make her smile.