When The Boys Are Away

Part 21

Nearly a month after she had arrived, Harlow took her last look at the house as it drifted away into the distance. The farewell had been hard, and she couldn't believe that before her trip, she had never met the Wentworth brothers who had wormed deeply into her heart; just as she had to them.

Before her heartfelt departure, she made sure to tell them if they were ever in any trouble, all they had to do was come to Small Heath and find the Peaky Blinders.

Her attention was now focused on finding Michael and potentially taking him home. She didn't really know what to expect and it's not like she could force him to listen to her. Harlow had no idea what to even say to him, or his adopted family.

The nerve-wracking thoughts buzzed around her brain for over an hour and a half before she eventually pulled up to the village. She slowed her car a little down the street from the address, not wanting to shock him with the wealth of his visitor. 

There was a pretty, white well situated on the grassy patch of field beside her, making her smile lightly. At least he had grown up somewhere nice. It was the complete paradox to Small Heath.

Harlow gripped her hands together, making sure that her outfit was decent enough before sauntering down the street. She had written her address down in case he wasn't willing to go with her today, it was totally understandable if he needed time to think about it.

The house was cute, that was the word Harlow used. It was like the kind of house she would read to Charlotte about in the fairy tales; with large windows to let in the glorious sunshine, and pretty ivy winding around the doorway. The garden was small, but full of bright flowers and patches of roses every now and again. Harlow shook softly as she placed her pale hand on the gate, listening as it creaked under her touch.

Her beige heels tapped against the crooked path, interrupting the peaceful silence which radiated from the small town. Gently, Harlow knocked on the door, stepping back to create some space as she waited. There were faint footsteps and a playful voice echoed out, informing his family members that he'd get the door.

When Michael pulled the door open, he looked surprised to see such a beautiful girl stood there, he knew she wasn't from the village because he was acquainted with everyone from the surrounding streets. "Can I help you?" He questioned, tilting his head to the side, causing his shining hair to drift across his forehead.

"Michael," She beamed, hardly believing that he was stood in front of her after all this time. When he gave her a confused look, she immediately snapped out of it, "I mean Henry. Could I please talk to you?" Harlow asked quietly, not wanting his other family to overhear and refuse her offer.

As she turned to walk down the path, Harlow urged him to follow, which strangely he did, after shouting to his mum that he was going out with a friend. She thought he'd be reluctant to pursue a complete stranger, but he vaguely recognised the glint in her brown eyes, and it intrigued him greatly. Finally something interesting had entered the plain, boring village.

He bombarded her with questions, but Harlow didn't respond until she safely knew they were out of sight and earshot of the building. "Micha-, Henry." She corrected, keeping her eyes straight ahead, feeling him staring into the side of her head inquiringly. The sun was shining brightly onto her skin, making her glow like an angel. Perhaps that's what she was, his guardian angel.

"What do you know about your biological family?" Harlow asked softly, turning to face him as they perched on a rickety bench under a large oak tree. His face held a puzzled, yet downhearted expression as he responded, "I was told my mother was a drunk. She didn't look after me properly. She didn't want me." His voice was almost laced with anger, an emotion that had been forced upon him by the twisted stories he had been told.