𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 ᵖᵉᵃᵏʸ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵈᵉʳˢ

𝟓𝟎

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓𝟎

Tommy stood at the end of the table, avoiding the eye of his family. He took a deep breath and thought of what to say.

Linda sat with her arm linked with Arthur's. Lizzie cautiously sat down beside Ada and Polly glared at Tommy. If looks could kill, he would be dead.

Isiah stood by the wall with his hands in his pockets.

"Maeve is awake," he informed them. Linda did a quick religious thanks. "Micheal is badly wounded, as well as Maeve. They say it's 60/40 in his favour— 70/30 for Maeve."

"There's no number, there's no percentages. It's the only the hand, the hand beneath them that stops them falling." Polly cut him off. "I spoke to someone. My son will live."

John cleared his throat, about to join in but only to be stopped by Tommy.

"Maeve and Micheal were shot because we killed someone. Vincent Changretta. His son Luca has come to take revenge. Men from New York and Sicily here in Birmingham. These men will not leave our city until our whole family is dead.  That's how it works— an eye for an eye. It's called vendetta."

"Yeah well." Arthur grunted, holding up a bullet. "The bullet has been written, it says Luca. And when the time comes, and it will come, me as her father— the oldest brother too, will put this bullet into his fucking head."

"There's been some bad blood between us." Tommy continued. Polly laughed pathetically.

"Polly please." Arthur whispered. "Until this business is settled, we stay together. We stay here. Small Heath, Bordesley, Haye Mills down to Greet. We know every face, every man is a soldier in this army. These men are professionals and good at what they do. We're gonna need more than we have. I've sent a message to Aberama Gold."

"No, no Tom. I'll get you fifty Lee boys— good men, Tom." Johnny Dogs said quickly.

"I don't need good men for this. I need bad men." Tommy refused. "Tommy, these people are fucking savages, you know Heathens Tom. They don't even let them into the fair so they come and steal our horses— stealing from their own, Tom."

"So this is the plan?" Polly raised her eyebrows. "This is the plan? Bullet with a name on it— help from a bunch of savages."

John pinched the bridge of his nose. "For christ sake Polly." He muttered.

"We're gonna go on the offensive." Tommy ignored her. "I've spoken to Moss-" Polly scoffed and got up from her chair. "I've spoken to Moss. Moss is putting out word, eyes and ears so we can find them. Yet the truth is that the police are busy with the revolution. Moss says they're expected strikes and riots when the weather gets warmer. And the Bolsheviks-"

"The Bolsheviks couldn't plan a fucking picnic. He's reading the wrong paper!" Ada said.

"Ada! Real or not real, the coppers don't give a fuck about us, alright? Which means that today, with all of us in this room, we have to agree to end this war between us."

"Hold on a minute." John said. "Who gives a fuck about the revolution or— or the bloody Bolsheviks. Or what Moss thinks? Maeve-" he tapped the table, "Maeve almost died today, again. For the like..i don't know, the fifth time!"