#Inkberrow

[maureen2musings]

Inkberrow

clivenichols

[swpics]

Datsun 240Z at the Inkberrow Vintage and Classic Car Show. Typical of many village car shows during the summer. More photos from this show in the current issue of Classic and Competition Car magazine. Free to read at www.classcompcar.com

[a-man-for-hire-and-his-archives]

Checking in... Andrew Wincott

Actor (Adam in The Archers)

EARLIEST HOLIDAY?

GOING on a trip aged three or four to the south coast of Devon, where my aunt and uncle lived. We drove there in my parents’ Humber Sceptre. I’ll never forget my first magical glimpse of the sea after the long journey from our home in Oxfordshire.

FIRST TRIP ABROAD?

A SCHOOL skiing trip to the Italian Alps. We caught the train and had to change at Zurich where I first got to try Swiss chocolate. Ski-wise I survived to tell the tale.

EVER GONE IN SEARCH OF ARCHERS’ COUNTRY?

A DOZEN or so years ago we did a photoshoot in Ledbury, fairly close to Inkberrow, Worcestershire, which is often thought to be the model for Ambridge: everyone’s perfect village.

TOP LOCATION?

LAS Alpujarras in the foothills of Spain’s Sierra Nevada mountains. The hills are wonderful for walking and, on a clear day, you can see the Mediterranean.

BEST FOREIGN RESTAURANT?

THE Restaurante Teide in Bubion, which serves typical Andalusian fare and has fabulous views of the valley.

TIP IF VISITING THE AREA?

ORDER a caña (small glass) of draught beer because if you order a pint, it will be warm by the time you finish it. In Andalusia, they serve a free snack or tapa with every beer.

HOLIDAY FROM HELL?

IN MY youth, I spent a grim night sleeping on a Frankfurt platform while Interrailing.

DREAM DESTINATION?

THE Atacama Desert in Chile. It’s the best place to see the stars as it’s so free of pollution.

The Archers, Radio 4 weekdays, 7pm; omnibus, Sundays, 10am. Andrew will be among the stars of the show appearing at the hay Festival on June 2 (hayfestival.com)

YORK MEMBERY

Source: Scottish Daily Mail (27 May 2023)

[natequarter]

John Robyns, on his way from his village of Inkberrow to Stratford-upon-Avon, fell into company with George Luffar, a pious bore full of the recent fame of Henry and his miracles. Under Luffar's relentless eulogy, Robyns's patience eventually gave out, and he roundly cursed "St" Henry [VI]. Naturally, he was struck blind and only healed on vowing to go to Windsor himself. The incident, however, allows us to eavesdrop on the sort of pious conversation which must have been commonplace in late medieval England, and which certainly played a significant part in promoting new devotions.

Eamon Duffy, The Stripping of the Altars

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Arthur's Sacrifice

Part 2

Chapter 2

Filomena clutched the phone tightly, feeling like her knuckles were going to pop. She hated the countryside, her father’s wife hated her, her father was too scared to speak up for himself, causing her to feel unwanted. She understood he was in shock. She was having to quickly rearrange her entire life in an instant.

She had tried cooking a meal to thank them for taking her in and being hospitable toward her, at least he had. Her father seemed to appreciate the meal. Linda watched her clean up the kitchen and told her how she liked things done and since she was the wife, she should be in charge of the meal planning. Filomena missed Italian food so much. She just wanted to do something nice, create a bridge, and build a family.

She wasn’t even allowed to smile at the baby. She loved kids, and watched her cousins for family several times a week especially on holiday. This place was killing her joy.

She’d never met someone like Linda before. She understood she was in another woman's house and if she wanted a relationship with her birth father…. Well that meant taking some time away from her and Billy. To be fair her whole life had been without him so she really couldn't understand why she wasn't allowed even 5 minutes a day.

Linda was always muttering something self righteous or mean under her breath. She couldn't understand how she could curse at her step daughter then turn around and praise God. It would be nice if she could just pick a feeling and stick with it.

Sure she had been called slurs and picked on at school especially when she got pretty at twelve. Private tutoring had been a godsend. The only two people who seemed to like her were Ada and Finn. Both were lovely toward her. Tommy was nice but busy. Esme and John were pretty distant. She’d been warned to stay away from John. She’d heard him mutter something about Wop when she’d walked by after the initially family meeting. Polly was out of the question at the moment. Not cruel, Tommy just said it would take her awhile to warm up. How could that happen if she was stuck in this country house all the time?

All she wanted to do was unzip her skin and let her soul tear free through the forest far far away from here. ________________________

She had asked permission before had called him. Her father seemed relieved she wasn’t hiding in her room. She placed the call and drummed her fingers on the large dark wooden desk. It was polished to shine and she looked down at her sad appearance. She looked pathetic. Her mother would be furious. Frowning causes old lady lines Cara Mia, she’d scold and she’d have gotten her hands slapped for tapping on the desk and causing noise. She missed her Mother terribly…..but some things she was all too happy to be done with her old life. Not that this was an improvement at the moment.

“Hello, can you connect me to Stratford please, yes, the Inkberrow hotel, suite 322. Thank you.” She sighed. This was agony, being where she didn’t belong, trying to be good but desperate to escape.

Why wasn’t he picking up? She needed him right now. He was her one reason for not running away screaming. He also wasn’t allowing her near him until it was safe, she wasn’t sure from what.

The phone rang for an eternity then she finally heard his deep gravelly voice flood the receiver. He sounded tired. She understood. His family dynamic changed overnight too.

They’d only known each other for three months, now that she was here it was too hard for them to see each other. She had met him on the boat to England. They’d bonded over their Italian upbringings, loving mothers and love of food and theater. He’d treated her so gently but firmly when she needed it. He didn’t shy from telling her the truth but was a gentleman about it. Everything she needed. 2 months on the boat was enough for her to fall head or heels in love. His cousin had told her she may have fallen first, but he’d fallen harder. She believed it. Weekly there were flowers to a local florist for her to pick up. Always a sweet note and he signed it with a nickname. Said he didn’t have time to deal with an angry father at the moment.

“La Mia Dolce meta, are you okay?” He asked softly. He had told her a week into their little meetings and dinners that she was his sweeter half. She’d heard from family and friends what he did, she’d seen the tattoos. She believed him, but she needed a tough guy to love her. She appreciated that he loved her femininity and wanted to protect her.

“Mena?” He implored. She could hear the shift in his tone. He was going to get irritated if she didn’t answer soon. Her thoughts were swimming.

“Yes Caro, I’m just……it's been hard.” She could feel the hard lump forming in her throat. If she had to swallow, she’d choke. She hated being so frustrated she couldn’t speak.

“I’m just frustrated, scared and I miss you.” The tears flowed hot and fierce down her face. She hated crying in front of him, or when he couldn’t hold her. She could hear him suck in a breath. He was so patient with her, she knew he hated not being able to comfort her either.

“Gioia mia, please.” His voice was ragged. He was exhausted. She now felt bad bothering him.

“Sorry, how’s your day?” She asked. He laughed on the other end, it was a hollow laugh, void of feeling.

“That great huh?” She asked softly. “Are you any closer at avenging your family? How’s your mama, please tell her I said hi. I miss her so much.” She couldn’t stop asking him questions. She was desperate for conversation, anything to keep someone talking to her. Treating her like she mattered in the world.

“It’s going, I have a promising lead to take out one of the family members from a woman who hates them. Apparently this Birmingham woman can hang on to a grudge like a Sicilian.” She laughed too loudly but it felt great to do something other than cry. He chuckled too.

“Oh, by the way, mama sends her love. Says she misses you so much and she can’t wait to have you as her daughter in law. She's lonely out there.” His deep voice was like balm coating her soul. He was relaxing, she could tell. His tone was warm and gentle.

“I wish I could see her, wish I could hug you.” Filomena knew the minute it came out it was the wrong thing to say. She wasn’t trying to put more pressure on him. She didn’t envy his position. He went silent for several minutes. To her surprise he didn’t sound angry.

“I pray every night for this to end quickly, Meana so I can hold you in my arms and kiss your delicate little face.” She sighed. He was perfect.

“I’ve pray for you too, every night and day. I have to do it at home. I miss church so much! Linda is a Quaker so …no catholic church for me.” She swore she heard him scoff.

“Barbarian’s all of em.” he said.

“ I hope to see you after Christmas Tesoro.” He added. Her heart was shattered.

“Christmas?” Her voice sounded strangled and far away. She hadn’t been planning on staying here that long.

“Lu…I can’t stay here that long. You don’t know what it's like here, prison would be more kind please I…..” Her sentences came out rushed like a broken dam ready to flood the town below it leaving no survivors.

“I can't come get you right now. It ain't safe for you to be with me. My enemies may kill you Cara Mia. I can’t live with that.” He sounded strained himself.

“Eh, I can't wait to go home Cara, you're coming with me. We’ll have a huge wedding, mama will be there to help you settle in. You won't have to deal with your horrible family anymore.” He promised this in their last phone call too. She knew he meant it.

“ I know, I'm looking forward to it everyday. I miss you. Ti amo.” She knew the phone call was at the end. It was getting late. They were both tired.

“Oh, I miss you Cara mia, Ti amo, I’ll talk to you soon .” His voice faded with the sharp click disconnecting him from her life once more.

[moveit-removals]

Move It Removals

Move it removal company is based in Redditch, making us perfectly placed to perform home removals in Birmingham, Worcester, Droitwich, Studley, Alvechurch, Feckenham, Inkberrow, Broadway, Chipping Norton, Mickleton, Hollywood, Wythall, Earlswood, Cheswick Green, Solihull, Shirley, Warwick, Leamington Spa, Lapworth, Warwick, Gaydon, Kings Norton, Kings Heath, Lickey, Barnt Green, Hopwood, Rowney Green, Moseley, Hockley Heath, Astwood Bank, Cook Hill, Alcester, Bidford, Hagley, Halesowen, Clent Stourbridge, Malvern Hills, Rednal, Dorridge, Mappleborough Green. https://moveit-removals.com/domestic-removals/

[124daisies]

The Old Bull Inn, Inkberrow

[petnews2day]

Two Hoots Bird Rescue save buzzard at Inkberrow Primary School

New Post has been published on https://petn.ws/lssQ8

Two Hoots Bird Rescue save buzzard at Inkberrow Primary School

A BUZZARD has been rescued from a primary school in a village near Worcester. The bird of prey was found caught in football goal netting at Inkberrow Primary School, on Main road, Inkberrow, by a pupil who alerted staff. Chloe Bullock and her husband John Bullock, of Two Hoots Bird Rescue, were called to safely rescue […]

See full article at https://petn.ws/lssQ8 #BirdNews

[time-capsule-scratch-builder]

Hello there! If you're not familiar with my work then here is an introduction for you. This was one of my first large projects. It's a scale model diorama of 'The Old Bull' in Inkberrow. With its fantastic beams and wattle and daub outer walls it was perfect to get stuck into and build with some great detail! Everything is hand made... 👍 #itsthelittlethings #smallstructures #detailing #details #superdetailing #scalemodel #scratchbuiltmodel #scratchbuilder #scratchbuiltdiorama #miniaturist #art #modelmaking #diorama #dioramaart #pub #thearchers #theoldbull #bar #painting #3dart #3dmodelling #plasticard #dailymini

[doodlesimss]

INKBERROW GREEN

Happy Tuesday, here is another family home build for you! There is a more detailed description under the cut. It can be downloaded via the gallery, my ID is doodlesimss, or via the online gallery.

So here is a bit of information about the build:

Bedrooms: 4

Bathrooms: 2

Stories: 2 (one is a basement)

Lot Size: 20x30

Price: £102,282

Location: Ophelia Villa, Willow Creek

Remember to use bb.moveobjects when placing :)

This sweet suburban home is perfect for a young family who all want their own space, but still want to be close together. The majority of the house is on one level. You enter into a living room with real fireplace, and behind that you can find a kitchen/diner. To the left there is a bathroom, and to the right there is a corridor with a master bedroom and en-suite, a family bathroom and two additional bedrooms. You can also find the stairs to the basement, with a small office and laundry room. Out the back of the kitchen/diner, there is a spacious back porch with grilling area, outdoor dining and outdoor lounge, The back yard has space for a pool, gardening area and play area. I hope you enjoy the house :)

[twvstedsouls]

INKBERROW HOTEL, STRATFORD-UPON-AVON

They didn’t come back. Arthur Shelby is still alive.

[swpics]

An immaculate 1961 Jaguar Mk II at the Inkberrow Vintage and Classic Car show. Report on show in the current issue of Classic and Competition Car magazine. Free to read at www.classcompcar.com

[aliciasilvastuff]

By clivenichols / Inkberrow Worcestershire - United Kingdom

[kaetastic]

MINE

pairing: Luca Changretta x Reader

summary: On the streets of London, Luca Changretta feels the need to show people what’s his [requested: @supermegapauselouca​​]

warning: fluff, jealousy

word count: 2.5k

notes: thank you all so much for 600 followers! thank you for reading my works! have a good day and please take care! and i will never get tired of @supermegapauselouca​ ‘s asks! thank you so much! i hope this is alright :) my goal was 1.1k but somehow it surpassed that lol

Luca Changretta was at the land of the iconic historical royal mess, England, to accomplish a vendetta, to bring justice to his father’s death which will never be left in vain. His father was killed by a flock of infant gangsters who waved around their guns, Birmingham gangsters. People of an organisation that could barely handle shit. A reason to why Luca was slightly elated because all they ever was and will be are weakling gangsters. Not the mafia. Overlooking the two sides of the coin, the Italian, without a doubt, knew that his side of the fence possessed things Thomas Shelby will never get to touch. Just the name of the man was enough for him to regurgitate the small breakfast he had in the morning. All he needed to do was remove the Shelby’s name from existence, and he can get away to enjoy his long-awaited life in New York with his lover.

Give them the taste of their own medicine; then he might be able to finally catch pleasant snooze or deep sleep in the shared bed of his house at New York. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get to enjoy the sights England offered. Despite the serious, vital business he was on, it didn’t hurt him to experience the foreign country. Although he’s been to England before for his cousin’s wedding, the limited time had only allowed him a few days of exploring the country he was once at. He was barely impressed with what the country had to give, there are endless words and they ended up with the name ‘spotted dick’?

With a hand stuffed in his pocket that only gave warmth to the tips of his fingers, his tongue caressed the bulging splints of the matchstick that pierced into the flap of muscle. As he stood on the bricked sidewalk, he couldn’t help but notice the drop in temperature after he exited the store. Starting a fire sounds good right about now. The noise of cars conversing one another overlapped the shouting of civilians, enough to battle against those raging factories in the industrial sections of England that clashed of ramming metal and screaming of roaring fires. There was one sound that remained the same in New York and London, a bustling noise that others would find irritating, however, the mafioso grew to like it. It gave him a sense of security, a song that he didn’t need to drag all the way from home. It also reminded him that he was not on a peculiar land of another life form; although, cowering around Birmingham felt like it.

The honking of cars echoed into his ears as if it was a practising choir of amateurs who set an uneven tone of screeching pitches and guttural hums, a song played on loop in the early rising of the sun. To be months away from home, everything started to rock him even though he reassured he was going to be just fine. The boat he had anchored on England started to dance to the wavering current of events. The Italian didn’t do well with seasickness, so, now he felt homesick. To make matters worse, the bag of coffee he had brought had begun to crumple up at the lack of the product.

He was deprived of the warm walls that were coated with hung framed pictures of him smiling, something he doesn’t often do in England. But, that wasn’t even what he had missed. There were nights he wasn’t able to find solace in the hotel bed he was to slumber in until he has taken down the Shelby’s. There weren’t occasional rustling of sheets or faint mumbling of nonsense in the middle of the night. The absence of her presence resulted in a rocky week of fluctuating sleep for the mafioso.

The prickly material of the sheets hooked onto his ageing skin, tugging on it with a snap. Travelling far from home once again, begun to peel his eyes to notice the fine details that he would usually overlook, things that didn’t bother him before, such as the frigid wind that continuously bit into him every time his toes would accidentally poke out from the heating sheets with every meticulous movement.

Luca was grateful he chose Henley Street, it was more private and reserved. Although, a part of him only wanted to stay in the Inkberrow Hotel because of its theatre past of the iconic, William Shakespeare. Though, it wasn’t good for his cranking brain. The Italian liked silence, it was where he thrived best, but because he was metres away from home, it was only scribbled in his destiny for him to worry about what was going on at home.

The torment of only a couple of hours of sleep ended when the person who consumed the majority of space in his head had appeared. After a long day of unsuccessful negotiations that were not met to his satisfaction, all the Italian wanted was Y/N. God seemed to hear his plead as she had been sitting on his bed when he creaked the door open. Even though he was against the idea of her being at England as threats can be imposed onto her (never will he trust Thomas Shelby’s words that spew out of his mouth), shoved deep down his gut was a craving need for her. With her presence, he nearly met with the floor once she mentioned coffee.

Months without seeing his girl was excruciating. International calls were better than scribbled lines on letters, but it was nothing like being in each other’s presence. Whenever he had time to ponder which was more than adequate, it always directed back to her. Without a doubt, the Italian was constantly concerned about his mother’s well-being since she was alone during hardships of losing her son and her husband in a barely digestible timespan. Audrey Changretta insisted on bringing justice to her husband’s name. Luca Changretta was a mafioso, but he was also mama’s boy. 

As a man travelling to England for a vendetta, he came to the land as a lover of theatre. Not even a hefty weight of carrying out such a traditional task will drag his shoulders down. With the addition of his girl’s presence, the Italian wasn’t perplexed to why he was on the streets of lively London, out in the open. Her words had always managed to enchant him, even before they were even official. It was as if she had the ability to cast a spell on him. It was something along the lines of ‘going out for fresh air’ and ‘not get cooped up in his own exhalation’. If she wasn’t there, Luca was sure he would be a drowning mess as months proceeded. 

The corners of his lips curled up at the thought of a happy life. A happy life with Y/N, and he was sure once the vendetta had been accomplished, the life he dreamed of as a mere boy will come true. The morning scent of cars’ passing gas and overly scented colognes battled on the golden street. Mists of smoke vaporized into the air, a present for those who lingered behind the vehicle. Gentle rattles of the metal vehicle jittered throughout the frigid metal sheets as uneven crests of the brick road created a dizzying ride. Occasional screeching of whistles from police officers trickled into his ears, to which he only let out a laugh. A smear of bitterness coated on his tongue. He wasn’t sure if it was from men who could barely call their clothing... outfits or from the sight hazed over with a pane of red. 

The white pine of the matchstick pierced into his tongue, slashing through the muscle to snip away his thrumming blood vessels. Across the bustling road was a pavement overrun by milling heads of crowds who weaved through strings of beads. The fiery head of the stick gestured towards the ground, neck nearly snapped into fragments of floating bones. Luca sat behind a brick wall to those who lingered their eyes over his suit or most likely, the prominent black ink cross on the side of his neck, but his eyes did not quiver away from Y/N’s figure. 

Although the woman who scurried over the other side of the road to check out the trinkets she had found amusing, it seemed her plans had changed. Mumbling about bringing souvenirs home, it didn’t take long for her to dash away. The Italian had to enter a shop; however, he was not worried, for his henchmen trailed behind her. After being with Luca, Y/N memorized everybody’s faces and their names. She was slightly defeated when she had spotted them following her even though she was just across the store Luca was in, but she was not surprised. The Italians were at war, which only led to an increase to his already high worry about her. 

Under the grinning sun, the woman who managed to enraptured his heart sent those smiles that would cause his ancient knees to bobble. Not to him, but another man. The glint in her eyes sparkled under the rays of light like chilly cubes of ice that were dunked in whiskey, under a faint haze of the sunset. Dressed in a navy blue knee-length dress, an outfit Luca was proud to announce an uncle of his had stitched, and the same-coloured cloche hat, it was a drooling sight for him in the morning. After insisting that the day had a lot in store for him, Luca was sure it was a tactic she had used because the night before, he had his nose dug into his papers. 

His jaw ticked. Throwing a glance at the pair of men he had assigned to follow the woman, they replied with a shrug of their shoulders. Fucking useless. A part of him nudged him to trudge over to her and swoop in. Yet, he was glued onto the spot. Fingers pinching the neck of the matchstick, he crossed his arms as he grazed his eyes over the scene. 

A giggle seeped through Y/N’s teeth as the words of the man trickled into her ears. When the boy who had been sauntering around with trinkets in his hands had paced away after she had taken one in possession, she was approached by a man in a two-piece ashy grey suit. His name was Jacob, a lover of travelling, a reason to why he had even pursued in his career despite his mother’s worried speeches. Even the reason for his approach was amusing, the odd man had found the horse trinket to be like that of his childhood’s pony. Although, he mentioned that the pony was slightly more... rounded. Without knowing Luca’s eyes were caressing over the pair, she had indulged in Jacob’s presence, “It is true, I hear of these buildings in America and I wish to see them one day.” 

The ceramic horse she had purchased sat in the cowering darkness of her purse, a noticeable addition of weight had sagged the bottom of the purse, “I hope you get a chance to see them. If you do, my boyfriend is a businessman, I’m sure he can hook you up with something, he’s actually in that store.”

Pointing towards the shop Luca had entered not too long ago, her finger ended up bullseye on his face. Y/N wasn’t sure what expression he wore when she glanced at him. Clenched with narrowed eyes, the hat that sat on his head smeared a coat of shadow over his forehead. The golden rings wrapped around his fingers glistened under the rays of light, blaring beams into her eyes. Luca quirked his eyebrows. Although she would have liked to proceed with the conversation, the blurry figure of two men in dark suit popped out in the corners of her eyes. Before Jacob had the chance to inquire for any other information, she let out a breathy sigh, “I’m sorry, Jacob. But I must be on my way, good day.” 

Jacob’s mouth cranked open, but with a glare from the two ominous people who trailed behind Y/N, it caused his mouth to zip shut. Raising her hands at the honking cars who yelled at her for sprinting across the road, she called out his name, “Luca.”

The Italian sauntered away, fingers fiddling with the toothpick as her voice fell on his deaf ears. With a huff, she stomped towards the Italian even though his colossal strides led her to go breathless, “Luca, look at what I got.” 

Yanking out the glossy horse from her purse which seemed to be painted by unsteady hands since wavering trails of pink overlapped to concoct a pastel purple which soon swirled down its poor legs, the corners of her lips curled down as she had only seen the faults under a proper angle of sunlight. Although she wore a toothy grin to the man who glanced at the mess of a trinket, Luca continued to pace to nowhere. A part of her became blue since she assumed he would find it hilarious to even be put up in their home, while the other was irritated. Y/N couldn’t care less for the horse, she was annoyed by his abrupt behaviour of a wild, untamed child, “What’s going on with you?” 

Slightly more exasperated, she weaved through the crowds who opposed current. Y/N felt like a fish who was streaming up a stream of water. Even though Luca’s lanky figure, added by his lavish suit was seen by almost everyone, no one bothered to apply the same to her. So, Luca sauntered at a casual gait, fingers twiddling with the matchstick, his legs were not crisscrossed or in coiled swirls, as everyone made a path for him, while Y/N had to duck under slabs of wood carried by workers and scoot around bawling children. Were they even supposed to be up this early? 

Then, it all clicked together. Halting on the spot which caused people to throw glances, the corners of her lips quirked up. Luca Changretta was jealous. The Italian didn’t know where he was even going, all he did was focus on the sidewalk and he didn’t bother to check the street names. That was when agile footsteps screeched in front of him, “You’re jealous,” An icy glare that would normally send everyone into shards of ashes was shot at her, which only made her grin. “Luca Changretta is jealous.”

Despite his stoic face and tight lip, her sing-song voice seeped into his heart. And oh lord, if only the corners of his lips did not twitch, the teasing would’ve ended, “You are!” Arms wrapped around the cooling fabric of his suit, she rested her body onto him. “Are you just gonna ignore me?” No words fell off his lips as he continued walking without hurling a glance. “Fine. Just to let you know, I’m wearing your favourite.” 

Shocks of volts zapped into his feet, tugging the strings of his leg to halt once her voice deepened to huskiness. Grazing his eyes the crowd, he could see her figure fading into the distant. Oh, that little minx. 

[imaginesbymk]

PINK + WHITE.

— CHAPTER FOUR ; COSA NOSTRA.

summary: teresa’s permanent resignation from the peaky blinders leads her to a whole new chapter of working in an art museum. but little did she know her best life would be butchered some time later when her former lover tommy shelby gives her no choice but to return to the peaky blinders after they make new enemies, with the leader, of all people, being the man teresa fell in love with one night after a wedding reception back in post world war; luca changretta.

pairing: luca changretta x OC x tommy shelby

tags: s4 spoilers, alcohol, implied nsfw

[ chapter index / meet my oc / wattpad link ]

INKBERROW HOTEL

STRATFORD-UPON-AVON

LUCA heavily sighed and muttered something Italian under his breath. His first meeting with Alfie Solomons was gonna happen in a couple hours. To his understanding from anyone he's gone to, he was told how unpredictable and clever Alfie was. He was a bullet, and Luca rubbed the bridge of his nose just thinking about the fact that he has to brace for a headache.

He sat silently. Just like Tommy, all his research and plans mapped out were scattered across his desk. Staring at the unlit fireplace in the sitting room, he hears both a knock and a small English voice grab his attention from the other side of giant, heavy front door. Luca gets up to answer it, to find the maid that served him tea and biscuits smile sweetly at him.

"You have guests."

They walk in and the maid leaves. The henchman had their fair share of matching overcoats and hats since they began working for the Changretta family. Luca's cousin Matteo, being one of them, was one of the first to already push Luca's buttons when he stood in front of the desk.

"I will mop the floor with your face if you don't fix that frown," Luca held up a warning finger, speaking to him like a parent disciplining their child.

"Noi perso Frederico," Matteo spoke. The other henchman next to him was still part of them, but after being shot by Tommy Shelby during the shootout the other day, his spirit crushed.

"You think I'm not upset about that?" Luca pulled out the match from the tray and placed it in his mouth. "They've now killed five of our men, Matteo. Five."

Matteo looked down and Luca sighs. "Aw, come on. You even complained about Spotted Dick. It's pudding, it ain't so bad. You've hated everything here that moves. You carry the same attitude from four years back. We had some decent pleasure in Britain. You know, the wedding? Il vino di cugino nostra? The art gallery. . ." Luca slowly played with the match gripped by his teeth. "I met a woman there."

And what more than Luca not recalling her, too?

Luca got back up and walked him and his men over to the sitting area. He sat on the sofa while Matteo and the other man sat opposite him on the chairs.

"Will you be seeing her again?" he asks.

Luca knew exactly who he was referring to, and shook his head, fairly certain there wasn't a chance something like that would happen. "Penarth is miles away from where we are, Matteo."

"Vai a vederla," the other henchman suggests. "You know, mentre siamo qui?"

"And tell her what?" Luca says. "'Hello old lover, sorry for just walking out on you like that, but I'm here now! Let's wolf down some gin and fuck on my desk?'"

They both shrugged and looked down, not really knowing what else to say to continue on with that subject.

Luca leaned back in the sofa. "We're here for business, for loose ends that need a tight knot on. This isn't a field trip, an excursion for that matter."

However, Luca wished it wasn't for anything like that. He dreaded the day more family of his that were dear to his heart, people he loved and respected deeply, would slip right out of his hands. After hearing about his brother Angel it was enough to mourn over. But hearing his mother break down in front of him revealing his father's assassination afterwards, nearly shut him down.

Blood before all.

"She's from the past. It don't matter no more." 1919-1920

SOMEWHERE in Birmingham, Luca came from New York to be best man at his cousin's wedding. England wasn't his ideal place to stay, though, as he loved the New York air, there were more buildings with shining lights and taxis, and people being as upbeat and chaotic well suited his preference. But he showed honor and love for his cousin, and he wouldn't say no.

He came before meeting Teresa, of course. And as promised, he took her out to see a show, as he mentioned how he was a lover of theater. Their first date went smoothly as he thought, and kept stealing glances from her that night.

They went on their second date to one of the finest restaurants in Birmingham. He requested a bottle of champagne and two gourmet dishes at their reserved table. He was annoyed but not surprised there were no Italian cuisines known in that area, but it was better than not treating her to the fancy, luxurious lifestyle he was born into.

When Teresa was a Peaky Blinder, it was way before the Shelbys expanded into more fine houses to relax in. They lived in Small Heath, of course, and their neighborhood was spread with filth. But it was home.

Teresa therefore never got to experience the wealth and glory once Tommy established the Shelby Company Limited, even before the high ranking members could save so much to spoil themselves too. Teresa was long gone before that, but she built her own empire, and it all started with art, art that she now thought of selling and upgrading, according to Luca's "constructive criticism."

That was when Luca had to ask, now that he was staying in Birmingham for awhile now. "My cousin is getting married on Saturday. I'm gonna be his best man."

"That's amazing, Luca. Tell him and his bride my congrats," she smiles brightly.

"You can be there to tell them that, y'know?"

She took a sip of her champagne. "Mm?"

Luca leaned forward. "I want you to be my plus one at my cousin's wedding."

Teresa nearly choked on her drink. "A-are you sure?"

"I'm never unsure, Teresa. But you seem to be."

"It's just . . . we still don't know each other that well for me to meet your family."

"And? People bring dates all the time, even if they've known each other for half a day. I know you warned me that I would grow bored of you, but here we are on our second date. We have the best table arranged for us, champagne, filet mignon," Luca smirked a bit. "I haven't even kissed you yet."

She chuckles. "You're right. I just hope your family likes me." She took that as a joke, but Luca already switched to being dead serious.

"Well, I don't wanna scare you, but you're gonna have to make yourself likeable for my family. They're what you call . . ." he trails off, waving his hand.

"Judgmental?" Teresa asks.

"They're gonna ask about you like it's an interview. They're gonna do research, find out what you do, what you like, whether or not you've done anything bad."

Shit. Her throat hit a lump. Now what would The Changrettas' reaction be if they found out Teresa was a Peaky Blinder? Forbid Luca at his big age from seeing her again? Condemn her? Blackmail her into hiding? But fuck it, she thought. Teresa really liked Luca so far, and she wasn't gonna let her past ruin her future. "We shouldn't have a problem with that, then."

When Luca's chauffeur pulled up at Teresa's home, he looked around the neighborhood. The night of their first date, Luca planted a kiss on Teresa's cheek before letting her go into the house. Her business wasn't enough for her to own a manor, so Teresa was living in a townhouse in a neighborhood with drunks and escorts that come and go. It didn't differ much from his home, yet he winced at the sight of it.

She came out the door wearing a sparkly dress that lowered down to her knees, height a bit taller from the heels she picked out, and her hair was in the curls most women were styling theirs as. Through the filth of their surroundings, Luca saw an angel.

Teresa joined the applause after the bride and groom shared their kiss. All the families and friends cheered, some chanting Italian at them and she smiled at Luca who proudly stood at the altar with the groomsmen and bridesmaids. It wasn't until the time to take a family photo, and Teresa stood on the side and watched them.

"Do you know the bride?" an old man approached Teresa.

"I'm here with the best man."

"You know my son?" Her heart rate increases a bit. It was Luca's father, Vicente.

She nods. "Yes. I—"

"Papa," the family was done taking their photo and Luca hopped off the steps to introduce her. "It was probably better to introduce you to everyone before I could run off and do wedding stuff. Padre, questa è Teresa Griffith. Lavora come art director, a Penarth."

Vicente Changretta kisses her on both cheeks. "Then you must meet my wife, Audrey."

Luca's mother stared at Teresa while she sat next to where Luca was supposed to be sitting at the wedding dinner. In fact, some of the guests were staring at her, too, not recognizing her as they were observing her looks. Not that it was a bad thing, it was just intriguing. She was the only non Italian-American at the wedding, and Luca only introduced her to his parents.

Teresa smiled and nodded politely when she made eye contact with anyone as she tried sipping her drink to avoid any embarrassment. She breathes in relief when Luca sat back down. "That speech you made. It was beautiful, Luca."

"Thank you," he mutters, taking his wine glass. "Even though it was all in Italian."

She chuckles, still feeling the looks some of the guests shot at her. She quietly spoke to Luca while avoiding eye contact. "People are staring at me. Is it my dress? Do I have bad taste?"

"Sei bellisima," Luca compliments. "They're just curious about you, that's all. Why, do you feel intimidated?"

"Not at all."

"Well," Luca's raspy voice lowered but loud enough for Teresa to hear him say, "you should be."

Teresa stared at him, feeling tensed. "Why is that?"

He sipped his wine."Because we're dangerous people."

Teresa was no stranger to words like that, she wasn't new to running into people who consider themselves "dangerous". The Peaky Blinders were in fact dangerous people who did dangerous deeds. But this was Luca, and that would mean—

"Blood before all." Luca stood up before Teresa could question him and he raised a toast in Italian, everyone following.

Once they finished their meal there was time left for dancing and drinking. Teresa once again kept quiet, trying to stick with Luca the entire time and avoid losing him to a crowd or a relative speaking to him. There really was nothing else she could do besides drink silently and listen to Luca speak in his native tongue.

That was when Mrs. Changretta walked up to them. "Slow down on the wine, amore mio."

Luca obeyed. "Yes, Mamma."

"And Teresa, you've been glued to my son all night," Audrey says. "I hope everything is all right with you. Have you tried the risotto?"

"Oh yes, it was delicious," Teresa smiles, seeing Luca walk off with Matteo. She was left alone to talk to his mother.

"That's good. It's an Italian recipe. Very popular. Luca tells me that you own a gallery?"

"I work as the art director in the Penarth Art Gallery."

Audrey nodded. "You were a good student to own a business?"

"I got good grades here and there."

"That's lovely. I worked as a teacher, taught two little boys how to read. Now they're all grown up and they wear caps and carry guns around. I am sure their names would sound familiar to you, Teresa? John and Arthur Shelby."

And just like that, Teresa's skin turned cold. Of course, someone like Luca's own mother would be one step ahead to dig deep into Teresa's past and bring up the two reckless men that did the most of violence and crime. She hasn't seen or spoke to either of them ever since she resigned, and hearing someone mention a Shelby made her skin crawl.

This was exactly what Luca had warned her about. Be likeable.

"I worked with them. But that was way before I moved back to Wales. Mrs. Changretta, I hold no ill-intent on your son. I respect him. I would never do anything to harm him."

"My husband told me the Peaky Blinders were the ones who killed Billy Kimber."

"That was before I resigned. I wasn't there to see it happen. Who I once was is now in the past. I grew out of that life. Holding a gun would feel so new to me."

Was that enough? Was that an okay response? Audrey stared at her. "I don't blame you for leaving the Peaky Blinders, Teresa. But we do happen to be just like them, you know? So think about how you are spending your leisure with my son."

Teresa furrowed a brow. "In what way?"

Mrs. Changretta took a step closer and smiled at her. "We're a tight family. In New York we deal with what you once dealt it, and we play with the big kids." She squeezes her hand and walks off.

Cosa Nostra.

Of course. Teresa felt like slapping her forehead for not having the slightest idea sooner. She felt completely stupid for not seeing the signs; the way Luca behaved when they first met, the way they dressed, their mannerisms, everything. It gave off the whole idea clear as day. It was no wonder his family didn't welcome her so much.

She stood stiff in her spot, no sign of Luca anywhere to come back to speak to her again. But did that even matter anymore? If Mrs. Changretta knew already, that meant Vicente knew, too. Even Luca. She had to assume Luca would be a leader, then. She squeezed her eyes shut just imagining him as part of the New York mafia, holding a Thompson gun, one day going against the Peaky Blinders . . .

Teresa felt like she was set up for this to humiliate her. Without even being armed, walking out without saying anything could cause suspicion. Teresa took a seat at the bar, and stared at her glass.

Luca came back minutes after, they both knew exactly what was on each other's minds. "How could you have not known I'm part of a Sicilian mob based in New York?"

Teresa shrugged.

"Couldn't you tell when we first met? Not even Matteo or Frederico gave you the hint?"

"I thought you were planning on robbing my art gallery like a bunch of amateurs."

"Of course, you were a Peaky Blinder. Heard those clowns killed Billy fuckin' Kimber," Luca took a seat next to her.

She nodded. "Yep. That's them, that was before I resigned. I couldn't take it anymore, but the people they go neck to neck with would contact me nonstop, my name comes out of their mouths, they threatened to kill me, so I left for Penarth.".

"So, you are intimidated by us," Luca says.

"I'm not judging you for being a mafioso, but I don't feel like I've been approved by your family."

"I let my family voice their opinions, but they like you so far. Leaving would ruin that." Luca and Teresa both get up. "My mother likes you. That's a rewarding milestone."

"Your family would find it hard to trust me, and I know they would do something about it."

Luca shook his head while drinking the last of what was in his glass. "I mean I did warn you, we are dangerous people."

Shrugging, Teresa put her hand to stroke his cheek. "Yet I'm still here."

As she should.

"You . . . are definitely not boring, Miss Griffith," he grinned down at her. "You ever held a Thompson gun before?"

"No, but I would love to one day. We can protect each other."

"I thought you couldn't handle the crime life anymore? You can trust me. Nothing won't happen to me." He started pulling her closer to him so that his arm was wrapped around her back.

She shakes her head. "You have signore tuo to protect you. And your Tommy gun."

"E Signore mio mi ha mandato angelo custode mio."

"What does that mean?"

Luca let his free hand lift her chin. "God sent me my guardian angel."

As the band's music grew loud on stage, he was able to lean down and let the alcohol push him forward for the kiss. And he allowed it. Teresa took in the moment when the kiss deepened. It was divine and satisfying, like her favourite painter blending colours on a dry canvas.

•••

From all the noise they both made, they were sure the people staying next door could hear them loud and clear, grimacing at the sound of the bed banging against the wall of the room, but it didn't matter anymore.

Letting out a heavy breath, Teresa relaxed her body when Luca came to rest beside her when they were done. Back in America, Luca had his fair share with women and always charmed his way into getting them to spend time with him and his men. It always included going to speakeasies to drink and party at night, enjoying the city lights in New York.

But when it was Teresa in bed with him in uptown England, she felt free even though she was on her back with Luca leaning over her. Despite how he was so experienced with intimacy, everything felt so new, and it felt right when he looked into her eyes.

The wedding night felt euphoric, and it wasn't even them who got married.

Luca and his men head out the door, ready to meet up with Alfie Solomons in his distillery. He was conflicted. Did he miss her? Did he want to miss her? He tosses the match from his mouth into the disposable bin on the way out.

Does he have any idea that she was already aware he was back?

[oaksbarnfarm]

The Power of the #Hashtag

Quality Family Farm Stay – Self Catering Sleeps 6 views to open farm land 15 min from Stratford upon http://bit.ly/AccommodationOptions #Londonislovinit

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