𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 • 𝙟𝙤𝙝𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙗𝙮

intro

"WELCOME TO paradise; where your wildest dreams come to life and consume your every sense!"

"Say that to all your customers, do you?"

I rolled my eyes before smiling, "Only the special ones, Tom." Collapsing back onto the sofa opposite him, I let out a sigh. "It would sound a lot better if we were at the Sapphire - you should see me in action on a Friday night; the people love me."

Tommy chuckled, "I don't doubt it."

John walked over to us, handing Tommy a glass of whiskey and grinning. "Lex knows how to get the punters in, and keep 'em."

"Worked with you, didn't it?" I teased, shooting him a wink.

"You've done well, both of you," Tommy replied with a nod, before taking a sip of whiskey. "I never had any doubts."

"Is that why you send Michael down every month; because you trust us so much?" John asked after letting out a laugh.
 
"Mummy, I've finished my maths- can I play now?" Gerald asked with wide eyes, tugging at my trousers.

"Of course you can, G," I replied, watching with content as he ran his little legs away, Tommy scruffing his hair when he passed him.

"Goodbye, mummy!" Gerald called out before disappearing out the room.

"Posh little twat," I grumbled, unable to keep the smile off my lips nonetheless. "His tutors are all Londoners; they're such snobs. He's starting to sound just like them."

Tommy shrugged, "Well, send him to Small Heath for a few years and Finn and Isaiah can teach him to speak like a Brummie."

John snorted at his words before coming over and sitting next to me, his arm moving to rest around my shoulders.

"You two look a picture," Tommy stated, a slight smile on his face. "Can't help but think back to the rat-faced teenagers you used to be, chasing each other around with wooden spoons."

I moved closer to John, Tommy's words filling me with nostalgia. "And how are you and Lizzie?"

"Fine," Tommy replied shortly, his curt tone revealing that there was more to it than just being fine - but I couldn't judge; I myself had learnt that marriage wasn't exactly a walk in the park.

"And Arthur?" John asked, his hand rubbing my shoulder.

"Arthur... isn't doing well," Tommy admitted, his eyes downcast.

"Last I heard, Linda had made an honest man out of him," I said, raising an eyebrow. "How long did that last?"

"'Bout a month," Tommy stated bluntly, making John snort. "He got high as a kite the other week. Went to a random pub, and got into a fight with a random lad. Blinded the poor bastard."

"Are we meant to be surprised?" John asked. "Men who get into fights with Arthur rarely survive with their eyes intact."

"It wouldn't be an issue if it was just anyone," Tommy sighed, before downing the rest of his whiskey. "His name's Lincoln. He's the son of a elitist; Phil Sullivan. Phil has connections to politicians, a squeaky clean record, and is a contributing member of society."

"And you're the fuckin' MP of Birmingham," John replied with a frown.

"So, Arthur blinded a posh lad," I said, taking John's glass and having a sip. "What was a posh lad doing in Small Heath anyway? Did he really expect to come home unscathed?"

"And what's his dad got to do with it?" John asked.

"Sullivan may seem clean, but that's because he has someone that does his dirty work for him," Tommy explained. "Graham Needle."

"You think he wants revenge?" John questioned, as we watched Tommy reach into his pocket.

He pulled out a small red card and threw it onto the coffee table. It had nothing on it but a black symbol in the shape of a gravestone, with the letter 'S' carved into it in white. "I know he does."

"The 'S'?" I queried, unable to take my eyes off it.

"Shelby," Tommy answered, confirming my fears.

"All of us?" John asked, his grip slightly tightening on my shoulder.

Tommy didn't answer him, and instead brought out a picture of a man I recognised. "This man has connections to Needle. If I can get into a room with him, I can talk him into helping us. You must have at least heard of him in your five years of living here."

John nodded, "We met him our first week here. He wanted to sell his coke through our clubs, but we refused. We didn't want to get involved in any of that shit; not here."

"That was good of you," Tommy said, taking out a cigarette. "But I need him on our side if we're gonna get Needle to fuck off."

"I'll handle it," I stated, causing John to look down at me with a frown. "One of our workers is bound to know how to get in touch with him. I'll ask around."

Tommy nodded slowly while lighting his cigarette. "There's another thing I wanted to discuss."

"What is it?" John asked, standing up to walk back over to the drinks cabinet.

"What do you think of coming back to Birmingham?" Tommy queried, taking me by surprise. "Just for a little while. Show the world we're united; there's strength in numbers."

John and I shared a glance across the room, before I looked back at Tommy. "We'll think about it."

Not long after that, Tommy left to go home, leaving John and I in an awkward silence for a few seconds.

"We're not going back," He stated bluntly, standing against the wall.

"I knew you'd say that," I sighed. "But is it such a bad idea? Gerald could spend some time with his cousins, we could help Tommy out, and take a break from work."

"I don't want to go back there," He insisted, leaning his head against the wall. "We've created a life for ourselves here. We're happy, and safe. As soon as we go back to Birmingham, there's a target on our backs."

"There's already a target on our family; is it not our responsibility to go and help them?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

"We are not going back to Birmingham, especially not now that they're under threat," John said intently. "We have a child to protect, Alex. Arthur and Tommy can handle their own problems; that isn't us anymore. The Peaky Blinders don't even fuckin' exist anymore."

I sat back on the sofa and sighed, knowing I wouldn't be able to convince him. "Okay."

John nodded once before stepping forward, and picking up the photograph that Tommy had left behind. "You really think you'll be able to get in contact with this guy?"

"You make it sound impossible," I said with a scoff. "He's hardly the Pope; everyone knows him."

"No matter what Tommy says, do not get involved," John ordered. "You get this man to meet Tom, and then that's it."

"I know, J," I replied, watching as he dropped the photograph back onto the table.

"I'm gonna go check on Gerald," He said before leaving the room.

Sitting back, I couldn't help but feel a slight dread grow in the pit of my stomach.

My mind went to many dark conclusions as I asked myself some difficult questions, but the hardest answer to predict was what John would do when he found out that I was already involved with Alfie Solomons.