VICES AND VIRTUES | Thomas Shelby

ELEVEN

just a quick note to say thank you for all the love on this story so far!

It had almost been a week since the races and Florence had barely spent an evening away from Tommy. They would spend their days working as they always did, until night fell and they wound up in each other's beds, depending on whose house was emptiest.

And yet, Florence still hadn't found what felt like the right moment to tell Tommy about the baby. She knew it was only early days, she wasn't even eight weeks pregnant, but she knew that they would at least need time to prepare themselves for parenthood.

She sat on the edge of Tommy's bed, watching him get ready for an evening at the Garrison. He had been working down at Charlie's yard so he was sweaty and covered in dirt, meaning he had been in no state to go for drinks, even at his local pub. As she watched him buttoning up his shirt she knew that she had to tell him eventually, she knew that it needed to happen, especially while he was sober.

"Tommy," She muttered, toying with the hem of her dress, "I need to talk to you about something."

"What is it?" He replied, looking in the mirror with his back to her as he adjusted his collar.

"I need you to look at me," She told him softly, doing her best not to let her nerves get the better of her.

"Floss, I don't really have time for this," Tommy turned around to face her, wearing grey trousers and a shirt which he had just finished buttoning up.

"Tommy, I'm pregnant," She let the words escape her mouth before she could even contemplate a way to build up to telling him.

"Are you sure?" Tommy asked.

"I've been checked," Florence told him, unsure of how to read his blank expression, "I'm nearly two months pregnant."

"Is it mine?" Tommy continued and to Florence it felt like an insult.

"Are you serious?" Florence scoffed from where she sat on the bed, "Of course it's yours, there's not been anyone else, except you."

"A baby." Tommy sighed, leaning against the chest of drawers behind him.

"Yes, a baby," Florence smiled, "A baby that's part of you and part of me."

"I won't marry you, Florence." Tommy told the girl with little emotion in his expression, his words like a dagger to the heart.

"What do you mean?" Florence muttered in disbelief, "You know how people treated my mother when she was pregnant with me, and then when I was a child people would spit at us in the streets, your family are the only reason it wasn't worse."

"I can't marry you, but I'm sure that someone else would." Tommy answered, watching as Florence's face dropped in fear.

"Why can't you marry me?" Florence asked, fighting the lump that was building in her throat, "Is it because I'm a bastard child, and it might tarnish the little empire that you're trying to build?"

"None of that is true." Tommy replied blankly.

"Then give me one good fucking reason why you can't marry me," Florence exclaimed, "You know how I felt growing up with no father, why would you that to your own child, Thomas?"

"I'm not going to put you and the child at risk," Tommy answered, even though he himself knew it was a pathetic justification, "If you're publicly tied to me then you're at risk, anyone who wants to hurt me would just use you or the baby because they know that it would hurt me a whole lot more."

"So you're doing this out of the goodness of your own heart?" Florence asked, standing up from the bed, "Because Tommy Shelby is a good man with a dangerous reputation, that's the biggest load of bullshit I've heard."