rose and thorn

iii.

iii.
2nd April 1922
~

The fresh breeze hit Rose as she emerged from the house, blowing the loose strands of hair from her face. Thomas was leaning against his Bentley, one hand in his trouser pocket and the other nursing a cigarette as he waited patiently.

As she approached, he reached for his cigarette case, offering one to Rose which she politely declined.

"Do you not smoke?" His brow furrowed at the notion of someone not partaking in such a glorious method of self destruction.

"Only socially, on special occasions."

"Do you drink?" The concern lining his words amused Rose, causing the corners of her mouth to involuntarily creep upwards.

"I do, yes."

"What do you drink?" She had to stop herself from answering truthfully. If she were to say champagne or gin, it may give away that she is accustomed to the finer things in life.

"Whatever's available." She responded instead, earning an approving nod from the gentleman in front of her.

"Too right." He threw his cigarette to the ground before pushing himself off the car and opening the passenger side door for the woman.

The car journey ran the risk of being seriously awkward as the two strangers sat in silence. Luckily, Tommy's curiosity successfully prevented this.

Rose sat with her feet neatly crossed and hands in her lap, looking out of the window as they slowly drove through London.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy observed her. She presented herself with such poise and elegance, making him doubt what Ada had told him about her humble upbringing.

"Have you always lived in London?" He spoke with a soft tone to make sure she didn't figure out that she was being mildly interrogated.

"No, can you not tell from my accent?"

Tommy smirked at her slightly sarcastic response. "I can, I'm just making conversation. Where are you from then?"

"Sheffield, you heard of it?"

"I have." He nodded. "What business is your family in, I might've heard of them?"

"Oh, you wouldn't. My father was a drunk, always getting himself into trouble." That bit was true. "He fleeted between factory work, had a job in a pub for a short time. He was never at the same place for long" That bit was not.

"Was?" Tommy immediately picked up on the fact she had spoken of her father in the past tense.

"Yeah." She looked to her hands in her lap, wary of the man frequently glancing over. "Both of my parents died shortly after I moved here. He finally pissed off the wrong person, I guess."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Her story was lining up with Ada's and the fear of her working for his enemies was subsiding.

"It's okay, they weren't very nice people." That much was certainly true.

"So what brought you to London?" He asked, turning the corner onto the street where the library was.

"Opportunity. Not wanting to follow in my parents' footsteps."

"I can certainly relate to that." As the library came into view, Tommy steered the Bentley towards the curb and came to a stop. "It's all about new opportunities, Rosie."

Before she could complain again at the nickname, he had stepped out of the car. A small smile creeped onto her face. He was teasing her on purpose.

The door to the passenger side opened and Tommy stood like a chauffeur waiting for her to step out.

"Thank you, Mr Shelby." She smiled in his direction.

"My pleasure. I'm sure I'll see you again soon." He responded, closing the door behind her.

"Yeah, goodbye." She rushed slightly, aware that it was now only a few minutes to ten. Once she was out of his sight, she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Dipping into the small room where staff left their coats and bags, Rosie was unexpectedly met with two of her colleagues, both stood by the window with wide smiles plastered on their faces.

"Good morning ladies."

"Who was that?" Mrs Dobson asked, earning a giggle from mrs Vaughan who stood beside her.

"It's my housemate's brother, he gave me a lift." Rose rolled her eyes as she hung up her coat.

"He's very handsome. Is he available?" Mrs Vaughan asked with a laugh.

"I have no idea, why? You wanting to marry me off? Or are you two thinking of ditching your husbands to run off with Mr Shelby?"

"Just if I were you, I'd snap him up while you can." Mrs Dobson replied

"Don't be crude Mrs Dobson." Rose smiled as she began to walk away from the women, her mind casting back to Mr Shelby. He was rather handsome but that was a complication her life certainly didn't need.

"Wait." Mrs Vaughan stopped her just as she was about to exit the room. "Did you say Mr Shelby?" Her face had quickly dropped as if she had seen a ghost.

"Yes, why?" Rose's brow furrowed at what could've possibly triggered such a reaction.

"Isn't he that cut-throat gangster from Birmingham?"

"Mr Shelby? No, I think you've got that wrong."

"I swear I read about him in the papers. Something about him coming down to London to steal Sabini's race tracks."

"Right, well I don't know anything about that." Rose had an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Surely not, surely Ada would've told her.

"Just be careful, Rose." Mrs Vaughan's eyes expressed deep concern. With a nod of the head, she walked out of the room, slightly taken back by the new information.