Power and Lies

Thirty-Seven

"Contentment consists not in adding more fuel, but in taking away some fire."
-Thomas Fuller

Moments passed through time like stills captured by a fuzzy camera lens. Freya lived in each frame, another piece of her routine dictated by the small child that latched itself onto her chest. Feeding, sleeping, nappies, repeat. She found herself at her wits end more times than she could count, and before she knew it six months had practically flown by in a haze of sleep deprivation and bliss. Tommy was an attentive father and had taken largely to the evening hours alone with his baby, allowing his wife to get the few precious hours of sleep she would need before once more she was awoken to the screeches of hunger.

She loved everything about Charlie, and when he began to giggle and move about she was overjoyed. She had even brought him to the office to show everyone his progress. None of them seemed nearly as elated, perhaps because their own children had been doing these things for years, but for Freya it was proof she was doing well.

Once little Charlie began to move around time truly passed quickly, and before she even had time to catch her breath he was one, and then he was two, speaking little sentences to anyone who would hear him.

When he moved into his own room Freya had wept in Tommy's arms, afraid for him to be in the dark, but her fear had been unfounded, and much like his father Charlie took his independence seriously.

"You must put your coat on," Freya exclaimed, exasperated. Charlie wiggled about, trying his best to escape the prison the coat imposed upon him. Constantly he protested, his little cries still breaking the shell of Freya's heart. But he simply must be dressed, for the snow outside was falling in blankets and they were off to see Tommy in town. It had been a relatively peaceful two years, and Freya felt spoiled by it all. And yet she still waited with bated breath for the other shoe to drop and chaos to run once more. Tommy's London partner had finally been the push they needed to keep the peaceful standings about, and his authority and men were enough to crush any minor inconveniences they encountered, inconsequential as they may be. And so life had marched on. But peace never lasted, and she knew that. War was only one small instant away from breaking out once more. And as much as she wanted to live in bliss, she would not be naive enough to believe it permanent. The thought was enough to draw the air from her lungs. She had Charlie to worry about now, and he knew nothing of wars and men and violence. All he knew was pure love, and she wanted to keep it that way as long as she possibly could.

Once she finally wrangled the poor boy into the wool coat he despised so much she placed him in the car and made the track to the city she loved and straight to the office. It had grown considerably in size, and it was quite fancier than it once was. Tommy even had a secretary now. She had once pursed her lips at the idea of one of his phantoms playing the role, but she had decided the ghosts of lovers had nothing to do with her, and ultimately she decided she rather liked Lizzie, plain as she was. She was witty and kind enough. And loyal. It never failed that Lizzie was sat inside the door when she entered, a warm smile on her face and a candy waiting for Charlie's outstretched hand. And today was no different.

Freya dropped her coat on the hook next to the door and Lizzie rushed forward to grab onto the small child who immediately began to giggle at the sight of her. It warmed Freya's heart to see the kindness her child possessed. It was as though only her good attributes had been passed down through her to him, and that was something she could truly be grateful for.

Approaching her husband she could see him hunched over documents, his glasses pushed up to his eyes and a cigarette hanging within his fingers neglected and burning away. "Anything wrong?" She asked him and he simply grunted in response. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Not unless you can convince two hundred people to come off their strike. You give them pay, and make sure their families are cared for and one fucking girl comes in bouncing around with her big eyes and tits and they've all fallen for the dribble spewing from her mouth." She had, of course, heard of the woman in question and her antics. She had prodded men into strike across the cities, claiming unfair wages and inequality. Should there be truth when it came to Tommy, she would surely support the woman in her own way. But she knew her husband, and although being a businessman was tough he had been fair to those loyal. She kissed his temple before sinking into the chair at the front of his desk, ignoring the papers strewn about with numbers across them. Factory workers, horse races, smuggling, her husband was truly a busy man, and she had no mind for the numbers.

"Am I able to distract you, even for just a moment?" She asked him and he sighed deeply but nonetheless looked up at her, his blue eyes just as bright as the day they met. God, he was exquisite.

"You have distracted me every day since the very entrance into my life," he laughed.

"Good, then you know how I have suffered as well." The joke was in good nature, and she was happy with where things were. They were easy together, their bickering had largely ceased, and they had fallen into a warm routine. Their love had become an old love, matured and nurtured into perfection. "Thomas Shelby I do believe I will love you until the very day I die." She muttered.

"And what a very long time that will be. And not for lack of trying on your part."

She shuddered at the memories of all the horrible things that had befallen them, but sequestered them down once more, placing her smile back on her face. "What are the terms they are presenting?" He groaned and glanced once more over the paper in front of him; his stress was evident in the lines that had begun to form on his face.

"They want an increase in wages, more holidays, they are asking to be released earlier in the day, and a couple other bits of bullshit. I have already given them more than the other factories around, and yet they ask for more."

"Everyone dressed in rags dreams of pearls Tommy." He knew she was right, they were only looking for more, but Tommy was unsure of how much more he could give. Already he had met with this maddening woman and each time she had more demands or she would call all the dogs to strike once more. And powerful as he was, Tommy could not afford to continue this charade. His life would be simpler if this woman would simply disappear, but a nagging part of him knew she was here for good. An ever present thorn in his side with her red lipstick and radical ways. She knew nothing of what these men had done, had been, before Tommy gave them honest work. And yet she stoked the fires he had lit and used the flames against him. The bitter hatred he had battled with respect for her leadership qualities. If they were not enemies he suspected they would be rather good business partners. Even Alfie was unable to sway her, try as he might.

"Yeah well, they will be dreaming on cobblestone beds if they keep this up. And we may soon join them if this bloody woman has her way about it."

"When do you meet her again?" Freya asked her husband. She had largely sat out of the business since Charlie's entrance into the world, but Freya was a woman, and she felt as though she may be in a unique position to help her frustrated husband.

"In three days."

"Perhaps you should have her to our home and I shall have a talk with her. Things between ladies sometimes take a better turn than a man. You are, after all, her nemesis." She chuckled and he sighed, running his hands once more through his hair.

"Suppose you may be right." He eventually agreed. He did not like the idea of that woman in his home, near his child and exposing her to everything he was when he was not just Thomas Shelby but a husband and a father. But he was getting nowhere, and perhaps Freya could.

Before they could continue on with their plans for how to tackle the meeting Charlie burst in the door, his hands clutching chocolate and a grin plastered upon his face. Tommy looked upon him with amusement, his life for one moment standing still once more. The woman could wait. He wanted a minute of pure in this chaos, and this happy little cherub was more than happy to supply it as he giggled with an outstretched hand.

"Want a chocolate, Daddy?" He laughed. Tommy sank to the floor, happy to share the candies with his son who shared his eye color and his mothers lips.

"Yes, I do believe I shall have a chocolate."

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