Tommy Shelby finally recognises the extent of his mental damage. An Illness that is eating away at his conscious being, devouring every last morsel of sanity in his head.
An illness that finally forces him to seek counsel from a professional.
To fi...
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An ominous cluster of smoky grey clouds crawled over the top of Arrow House, as Tommy Shelby exited the grandeur of his luxury car and stepped onto the gravel driveway of the place he called home. As he had arrived, it hadn't gone amiss to his astute gaze that there was another vehicle parked up – and it only took him a number of seconds as his car had crawled closer to recognise the shiny grey vehicle as Alfie Solomons.
Collecting both his belongings and his thoughts, Tommy was questioning all the reasons why Alfie had attended his home – and already the sick feeling was beginning to knot in his stomach. He had forgotten all about the favour he had owed Alfie in return for the act he had taken out against Verity all that time ago. His mind was already racing like horses at Ascot, running over the possible outcomes.
He was aware his smart, polished black shoes were trudging a little quicker than usual over the unlevel gravel, anticipating yet grimacing at the thought approaching the front door. However, before he could come close enough – they were already open for him, and the man previously occupying his rather worried thoughts was exiting with a rather swift step about his gait.
"Alfie." Tommy pressed, halting the Londoner with a haste. It was getting hard to hide his apprehension – hoping and praying Alfie had not let anything slip to Verity.
Before Tommy could get another word in, although he was not sure what that word would even be, Alfie displayed a rather strained, wane smile that seemed to tease an onslaught of nervous things his brain could not concoct at that moment. Shrugging his long coat firmly back onto his shoulders, Alfie was already skirting sideways towards his car.
"It's... it's alright, Tommy," Alfie cleared his throat, cockney tones covering an apprehensive underlay, "I'll catch y' another time, yeah? I've got to go."
It felt like the strangest encounter, the two men could usually argue and talk for hours on end – yet as Tommy watched the usual brutish and bold Alfie drive back down the long scope of the driveway, his heart felt brittle, his gut pitted with an illness that could only be akin to a child forced into the dentist's office alone.
He dared to turn back and face the house. No words had confirmed that Alfie had said anything to Verity – yet the flighty movements, the need for Alfie to flee this place gave Tommy an aura of a man who wanted to escape the lionesses' den, lest he be caught in her jaws too.
Looking overheard, Tommy's ocean blue eyes noted the tumble of grey clouds rolling further over the top of Arrow House, like a monster crawling along, and judging by the deep temperamental greys hidden in the cottony texture of the clouds, it would be bringing a hell of a storm with it.
Trying to shake the feeling of fearful anxiety, Tommy stepped through the doorway of his home, which right now – could not feel anything less like a home. He could not hesitate any longer, not knowing if his worst fears were about to be realised. The hallway was dull, the darkening skies having starved it of it's usual warm natural light. His only guidance was the strong, yellow cast of light coming from his office.
