When The Boys Are Away

Part 29

"Do you think Arthur will bring anyone to the wedding?" Harlow probed Tommy as he sat at his desk in his office, scribbling his signature onto various sheets of paper. She noticed a small twitch of interest in his bright eyes, but he responded with a light shrug, not looking up from his work.

Harlow was bored and sweltering; possibly the worst combination that could grace the Winters girl. It was mid-July and after running around in pursuit of John's youngest along with Rose for a few too many hours, she had finally taken refuge inside Tommy's large office. He couldn't help but chuckle as she'd exasperatedly draped herself over the leather sofa in the corner, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead.

"Come on, he's your brother. You must know something!" She groaned childishly, placing her legs up onto the gold-plated arm rest so she could relax whilst staring up at the ceiling. Tommy peered over at her in amusement, placing his black ink pen down gently beside his almost completed work; it could wait.

"Why are you so curious? Are you going to trade me in for the older model?" His sarcastic voice trailed out through the room, making her giggle and slowly turn her head to him with a grin. Her thick locks tumbled out around her face, framing it perfectly, "No, I'm just bored Tom."

Tommy rose an eyebrow playfully as he stood up from his chair and sauntered around to lean against his desk. His white shirt crumbled slightly as he perched on the edge with his arms crossed against his chest. "Well we wouldn't want you to be bored now, would we?" His mischievous smirk entranced her, and she tentatively pushed herself off the sofa and sauntered towards him.

When their faces were only millimetres apart, Tommy pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before spinning her small figure around as she shrieked in surprise, immediately gripping onto his strong biceps for support. As his gentle lips moved to her exposed neck, her head fell back in pleasure; forgetting all about her previous emotions.

A knock at the door interrupted the pair, and Harlow's head snapped back up in alarm, but Tommy continued to please her, ignoring the unwanted visitor. "Tom," She groaned, trying to push him away quickly, and he reluctantly stepped back with an annoyed look.

Harlow gestured towards the door instinctively as he rolled his eyes, pointing a firm finger in her direction, "We'll finish this later."

The brunette smirked knowingly, before rearranging her messy hair into a neat parting and pushing herself off the desk with little effort. As Tommy opened the door, a familiar voice echoed out around the room, one that the Shelby had just about gotten used to. Michael had slowly begun to find his place alongside the boys, but he much preferred to hang out with Finn and Isaiah rather than the older four.

The now nineteen-year-old sent Harlow a small smile when he noticed her presence, actually feeling quite relieved that someone else was there rather than just his cousin. "Take a seat Michael." Tommy announced, sending him an irritated, yet intrigued glance as they all sat down; the powerful couple across the desk from him.

"What can I do for you?" Tommy questioned genuinely, reaching in his draw to pull out a cigarette. The amber flame from the lighter sent a tinted shade across his face, giving the impression of an even more devilish demeanour.

Michael seemed moderately uncomfortable, but soon enough he clasped his hands on the armchair and began to speak, "I want in."

The three simple words sent a rush of worry through Harlow's body. She knew what he meant, and she also knew it was inevitably going to happen. Tommy nodded understandingly from beside her, releasing a large puff of smoke from between his lips; almost making up for the barrel of words that he longed to say.

"Michael, I don't think you know what it entails." The Shelby spoke in such a way that you couldn't help but listen to his every word, and even Michael had to take a minute to regather his thoughts. Harlow could see the conflict behind his teenage eyes; he wanted to join the big league, be like his cousins and earn a shockingly high wage.

But he also needed to be a kid, something that many boys before him had ripped away from them due to the war. John had lost his youth to France, and Tommy didn't want his cousin to do the same thing with the Peaky Blinders, only to regret it as he got older and hopefully wiser.

"Tom, I've been back with this family for nearly eight months now, and I'm not stupid. I know what you do, and I want to help, I'm sick of sitting around." His complaints sounded eerily similar to Finn's, and it wasn't surprising since they spent most days together, running small errands or drinking with Isaiah in the pub.

Tommy leaned back in his chair thoughtfully, his eyes never once leaving Michael as the cogs turned in his noisy head. If he let Michael in, he could learn to protect himself and the family, they would have an extra man to fight alongside them and it was his birth right to join the gang. On the opposing side, Polly would go hysterical, but then again, when didn't she?

Harlow waited with tightened breath for someone to speak, and after a few minutes of silence, Michael took it as his que to continue, "In my village, I was just a normal lad with an average family and a boring future. Here, in Small Heath, everything is different. I like the excitement; I like the challenge Tom. Let me help."

Relatively amused, but mainly conflicted, Tommy tapped his cigarette on the glass ash tray, keeping a stern expression on his face, but Harlow could tell by the way that his knee bounced up and down that he was anxious. "I don't want you getting into this business unless you're absolutely certain." The smell of smoke lingered in the air, and the faint ticking of the clock alerted them that the world was still churning on whilst they hesitated to make a decision.

Michael cleared his throat, before pushing his back up in the chair, so he appeared vaguely taller. Harlow knew whatever he was about to say would make her blood run cold, and she was right.

"In my village there's this little wishing well. It's made of white bricks right in the middle of the village green. Everybody says how pretty it is, but I swear to god, if I spend another day in that village, I am going to blow it up with dynamite. I'd probably blow my hands off with it, but it would be worth it just to see those pretty white bricks spread out over the pretty village green."

Harlow recognised the devious glint in his eyes, and it unnerved her no end. He was becoming just like them, just like his cousins. The worst thing was, it had taken them over twenty-five years and a world war to get there, it had only taken him eight months.

The once innocent boy had a dark streak, it was evident to see. Polly overlooked it, much too absorbed in the love she had for her son. John, Arthur and Jay ignored it, entirely convinced that he couldn't hurt a fly. Ada shrugged it off, just as she did with her brothers. But Harlow knew it needed to be controlled, before it got out of hand.

Tommy had to get him condemned within the company, he needed to make Michael feel he was doing something worthwhile, otherwise he'd go off the rails. The couple had seen it happen before, to boys that went to their own school, they got too rebellious and confident and they ended up dead. If they weren't careful, the Gray would throw himself into trouble just to prove a point, and he'd get hurt. Or god forbid, he'd die.

Michael glanced between the pair, unsurprisingly unable to read their trained faces. After a few moments of contemplation, Harlow could see that Tommy had come to a final decision. The confusion in his eyes had settled, transforming back to the icy blue glaze which usually inhabited them. He calmly held his hand out as an answer and Michael couldn't help but sigh in relief.

"Welcome to the company Michael. May it treat you well."