Stolen Heart [Tommy Shelby x OC]

CHAPTER 5

The next few days, Lily became the perfect housewife. She cooked food, cleaned the house and ran small errands. It took time, but it was her job and she always put a 100% in every task.

A few people had talked, rather grilled her about her sudden residence in Birmingham. They had heard her pitiful story about suffering losses in their business with an occasional look of disdain at her expensive clothes. Still, they were kind enough to call on her from time to time. 

But she didn't need their kindness, she wanted Polly Gray. And that woman was either in the office or the church. Both of the places barred her. One due to her gender and other due to her religion. Or rather the lack of it. For her there was no God or Almighty. Only the Force decided her fate.

Edward's work was going well and Tommy Shelby had bought Paul's story without any hesitation. Today was the day of the party in the pub. She had to make sure she kept her best foot forward. She couldn't have Shelbys doubt her. And for that she had to keep off the whisky. The posh accent would vaporise like the drink if she didn't keep a check on herself.

She chose a lime green dress with a woolen hem for the evening and put on a light brown coat which reached her knees. She applied a light coat of pink lipstick and smoothed her hair again before calling for Edward.

'My God! You look good.'

'Tell me something I don't know.'

'We're late?'

'Come on then, husband. We have a long way to walk.' She said as she hooked her arm in his.

'No, we don't.' he said as he pulled out a pair of keys from his pocket.

'A car? How?'

'Gerard had it sent for us. And he made sure it was banged enough to look ancient.'

'Well, I can't complaint. I hope the people don't get suspicious though.'

'Don't worry. We'll say you family bought it for us.'

'Smart.'

'Let's go.'

The pub was small and honestly, cheap. But Lily wasn't the posh woman of London. She was an art collector out on a mission.

'I've heard the Garrison is much better.' Edward told her as they walked inside the musty pub.

'Where is it, then?'

'I heard it was bombed.'

'What is this place.' She muttered, not expecting an answer.

'Let's get a drink, then.' He tugged her arm towards the bar where three couples were already seated.

'Edward Sheffield! How are you, man?' one of the men rose to greet Edward while everyone else scrutinised her.

'You must be Mrs. Sheffield?' a woman in a dark coat asked her as she eyed her dress.

She wondered if she was overdressed. And looked at the other two women in coats long and dark enough to hide their dresses. Yes, definitely overdressed.

'You can call me Lily.' She smiled at her.

'I am Jenny. This is Fiona and this is Anna.'

'Nice to meet you.'

'So what brings you to Birmingham?'

And so began the tiring questions about life in London and Birmingham. she wished she had spent more time in the streets of London during the daytime. The questions were getting difficult to answer day by day. Still, she was out on a job and nothing could stop her from being the perfect wife.

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Tommy Shelby was rarely found wandering the streets of the town at such a late hour. Not since he had bought himself a car. But he had killed a man tonight and he needed to burn off the heat. He made his way into the nearest pub and gave his order. Like always, there was silent hush in the pub at his presence. Except for one woman whose back faced him. She was wearing a long brown coat and had kept her head uncovered, letting dim lights shine on her hair.

'I always wanted to have a house in Mayfair but my husband wanted to live in our ancestral home. Five generations of his family had lived there and – Oww!'

The man, his new accountant Edward Sheffield grasped her upper arm forcefully and whispered in her ear.

He could hear an outraged, 'So?' from her mouth from the distance but she quieted down after something Edward said. While Tommy watched on.

When they were done, the woman still kept her back turned.

'Good evening, Mr. Shelby. This is my wife, Lily.' He nudged the woman to turn around with a complacent smile on his face.

'Hello, Mr. Shelby.' She spoke as she turned to look at him. And Tommy almost jumped in shock. There was makeup on her face, but the almond shaped brown eyes were the same. So was the narrow jaw  and the long brown hair. It was that woman from London. The one who had broken into his sister's house and given him a bruise-inducing punch. Why was she here?

He nodded back politely then turned away from the couples.

Her bored yet sincere expression had told him she hadn't recognised him. And he was more than happy to keep it that way. For today, that is. Tomorrow he was sending a professional man to dig out every small detail about this 'posh couple' from London. And overmorrow, this woman would wish herself dead.

Because no one messed with Shelbys and got away with it.

Taking a quick swig of the whisky, he got up to leave from the bar.

'See you tomorrow, Sheffield.' He said before he walked out. And looked at the woman next to him, 'Mrs. Sheffield.'

She smiled back at him, her full lips curving prettily.

Smile all you want now, Mrs. Sheffield. Because if my man finds anything incriminating about you, and he will, it will possibly your last one. He thought as he made his way out.