VICES AND VIRTUES | Thomas Shelby

TWENTY THREE

make sure you've read 21 and 22 before you read this chapter!!!

The colour black is a symbol of many things. It hides sins, it makes deals with the devil and it clothes the grim reaper when the time comes. It's a colour awash with death, no matter how hard one may try to scrub it clean. As Florence stood beside her husband, both of them dressed head to toe in black, that's all she felt crawling across her skin, death.

Over a week had passed since Imelda's death, and Florence had experienced every emotion imaginable. She was understandably sad most days, and then some days she was angry, she'd go into the woods to hunt alone, and return with few words. Elijah could see the pain, he just didn't know how to make it better, all he wanted was to make it better.

Daisy was blissfully unaware, as a tiny newborn she didn't have the ability to comprehend what had happened. It would just be a tale that would one day be told when she asked why the other children at school had grandparents on both sides of the family, but she didn't.

Florence and Elijah stood at the gates to the chapel with baby Daisy in her pram, just outside of the Harrington estate, welcoming guests to Imelda's funeral. Florence had contemplated the idea of giving her mother a gypsy funeral, given that she had grown up around the culture. But in her heart she believed her mother deserved to be laid to rest in a place where angels came to rest, because that is exactly what Imelda was.

Half the guests were customers of Imelda, who thought of her fondly and adored her gentle temperament, there were of course the Harringtons, who appeared devastated yet eager to step in and help with Daisy when they heard the news.

"The car's taking us straight from the church, isn't it?" Florence asked as the pair waited for the next few guests to arrive.

"That's right," Elijah nodded, "We should be in London by the evening."

"That's good," Florence nodded, interlocking her hand with his.

"She'd be proud of you, for putting yourself first," Elijah assured her.

"I suppose," Florence whispered, gripping Elijah's hand as she spotted the Shelby contingent making their way towards the chapel.

"Florence," Polly sighed as she reached the girl, wrapping her in an embrace, "I am so sorry."

"Thank you, Pol," Florence muttered, reminded of what Imelda had said as she died, hoping Polly could provide some insight, "Can we talk after the service?"

"Of course," Polly nodded, before letting go of the girl and turning to Elijah.

The truth was, Florence and Elijah hadn't told many people about their plans to leave Birmingham. Margaret and Richard knew, given that it was their house the couple planned to live in. Florence just hadn't managed to tell Polly or anyone else from the Shelby family, knowing the efforts they would go to in order to change her mind.

"Hello, Ada," Florence whispered, wrapping the girl in a hug, "Thank you for coming."

"It's okay, and I hope you're okay," Ada replied, unsure of what else to say before letting go.

John and Esme came next, both hugging the girl and wishing her well before turning their attention to Daisy and then Elijah. It was obvious that despite how much they all loved Imelda, none of them knew what to say, because anything they had to say about how great the woman was, Florence already knew.

"Flo," Arthur smiled nervously as he hugged the girl, "She was an incredible woman."

"Thank you, Arthur," Florence whispered as she clung to him, "Don't tell the others, but you were always her favourite."