March // John Shelby x Reader - Peaky Blinders

Chapter 4

John

He whistles happily as he opens the door to the house. The bread's still warm beneath his arm, the fresh taste of lemon still lingering on his tongue.

"What the fuck are you so happy about?" Arthur grumbles from the table.

"Bloody hell, John," Polly says from beside Arthur. "Did you get enough food to feed all of Watery Lane?"

"It's for the kids as well," he calls back.

He thinks about mentioning you to his family. The girl from the bakery. The one he could talk to for hours, and increasingly becoming his favourite part of his day. But he decides to keep that small slice of happiness to himself, for now.

"Speaking of, I am not a bloody babysitter," Polly says, leaning against the doorway and smoking a cigarette. "I've got things of my own to be doing, you know."

John nods, his jaw clenching. "I know, Pol."

Her face softens. "I know it's not easy."

John pours himself a drink. It's not like he even loved Martha — not the way he should have, at least. Not the way a man loves his wife. They were young when they met, and young when she fell pregnant. He'd married her so as not to dishonour her, or bring her shame. It had been a relationship that made sense. A marriage that worked for them both. And then she'd had the twins, and then she'd found out she was pregnant again while he was away fighting the war, And now she was gone. Spanish Influenza. And he'd been left to raise the kids all alone.

"Life's not easy, right Pol?" He says.

"Katie and the twins are at school," she says, as though she hasn't heard him. "You'll need to pick them up at three."

"No can do, I'm afraid," Arthur calls from the other room. "John's got to get those debts from the south end."

"Then your brother will have to find another bloody babysitter," Polly calls back.

"Come on, Pol," John says, staggering towards his aunt and wrapping her in a bear hug. She pushes him away, but he can see her eyes soften. "What have you got on this afternoon, eh? I'll pay you a shilling to pick them up."

"And what about Florence?" Polly asks. "I'm expected to look after her all day too, am I?"

"But Florence loves you," John protests. "She always asks for her Powy."

Polly shakes her head as she leaves the room, but John sees her hiding a smile as she takes her seat beside Arthur once more.

"You still thinking of asking that Lizzie Stark to marry you?" Arthur calls out.

John frowns. "I dunno."

Arthur folds up his newspaper as John enters the room. "What are you waiting for? You'll have your problem solved."

"It's not that simple, Arthur," John mutters.

He doesn't know how to explain his sudden change of heart. How quickly he's become reluctant to marry just for the sake of it, and close himself off from any other options. He doesn't even understand it himself.

Polly places a hand on his shoulder. "You'll have to think of something, John," she says. "My days raising children are over."

John tips back more whiskey, and the taste of lemon is washed from his tongue completely.