Gangster's Paradise (Peaky Blinders)

Tuesday

Nancy Fitzgerald sat at her kitchen table alone. An untouched bottle of rum staring back at her, goading her to take just a sip. She knew that she shouldn't, but with each passing hour the urge to crack it open and drink it dry was tempting. Just one sip... she thought, staring blankly at the bottle. Outside the dogs were barking, desperate for their breakfast. Just one little sip to keep me going...

The barking became louder and louder, no longer a cry for food, but rather a warning. Someone was coming up the path. A thumping on the door confirmed what the dogs had already told her. Someone was here. She sighed, returning the rum to it's hiding place in the cupboard behind the large soup pot she had never used. Not today...

A young policeman, no older than she was, stood trembling on her porch. She wondered if he was nervous of her standing there in her thin nightgown, or perhaps scared of the snarling, barking dogs chained up outside. Such brutish creatures she had always thought. Why anyone would feel the need to possess two German Shepards after the recent war with Germany only a few years ago baffled her. She often felt out of place walking them both, wondering what their neighbours might think.

"G-good m-morning Miss-" the young officer began before she silenced him.

"I called you yesterday. 11 am to be precise. Did you get lost on your way here or are the police completely incapable of following up on distress calls?" She stepped aside to let him in, however, the young lad remained frozen to the spot.

"My apologies Miss for the delay-" He was abruptly silenced again by her, completely stunned as she suddenly bellowed out of her "Oi! Pack it in you pair! I can hardly hear myself think!" She shook her fist at the barking canines. To his amazement, the barking stopped. "Come inside, it's freezing," she said in her normal calm voice.

He timidly followed her into the sitting room, perching himself on the edge of the couch, pencil and notebook in his trembling hands. "W-what can I do for you Miss?" he asked.

"Mrs," she replied, "Mrs Fitzgerald."

"Apologies, Mrs Fitzgerald."

She wandered over to the fireplace, a tiny ember still aglow amongst the mountain of ash. She had sat up all night by the flames, patiently waiting, resisting the urge to turn to drink in order to sleep. "I telephoned yesterday about my husband," she began, resting her hand against the mantelpiece. Her grip tightened as memories of the past few days came flooding back to her. "He went out a couple of nights before - Friday. Friday night was his night to go out..."

The young officer was scribbling away in his notebook, his gaze too afraid to look up at her. "He didn't come home that night, you see. But I neither minded nor worried, it wasn't unlike him to stay out all night. He loved his Friday nights so much he never wanted them to end."

Nancy smiled, as though this made her happy. It didn't. "However, when he didn't return that next morning I began to think that something was amiss. He always made it home before midday to taste my bacon and walk the dogs. Saturdays and Sundays are his days for walking them. I walk them all the other days of the week. You must understand officer, he never misses his bacon and dog walk on a Saturday. Not once in all the 5 years, we've been married has he missed his bacon and dog walk. Not once."

"Has he been home since?" The boy finally looked up at her, his eyes widening when he remembered she was only wearing a nightgown.

"If he'd been home why would I have called you?!" She rolled her eyes, hating the police even more for their lackadaisical attitude. "I decided to leave it, waiting for word from him of his whereabouts, but that never came. I waited until Monday to phone the police to report him missing and you roll up here with no idea what is going on. I told them on the phone that my husband is an important man with loads of enemies, every fucking police officer in London should be out looking for him!"