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psycheswritings · 5 years

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Nothing’s Fair in Love and War - Nine

Title: Nothing’s Fair in Love and War

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Daphne Scott (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, a little misogyny and a lot of angst.

Word Count: 4795

Author's Note: So, how have you all been? Good, I expect. This chapter is a little, well, angsty. There is a lot of emotions going around and things start to go wrong for everyone. I will post the playlist for the fic soon but I warn you, I'll break your heart there might be some spoilers in the lyrics. The music recommended for this chapter is "Big Guns" by Ruelle. A big, huge thank you for everybody who still reads the fic even after nine ass long chapters. Be prepared for a lot more. As always, this haven’t been proofread, so feel free to report any mistakes back to me; warnings are expecific for each chapter; tags are at the end of the post and if you want to be added, let me know. Also, your feedback is also highly appreciated.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Tommy discovers that Arthur and Michael are in prison and confronts Campbell about it. When Daphne discovers the whole ordeal about Arthur's prison, she and Alfie have a discussion that doesn't end all that well.

Nine

Things were going smoothly for the Shelby family - the pubs in London were earning a god profit, the exportation of the alcohol had encountered no hindrance so far and then there was Daphne, that had finally give in to his advances. Tommy should have expected that something would go wrong, because things had always been like that for them. It had been this way when his mom died and his father ran away, it had been like that with the war, this time was no different.

“We had a deal.” He entered the church to find the irishman on his usual spot, reading the newspaper. “Hey! We had a fucking deal!”

“I would think that you would moderate your language in a place of worship.” His tone didn’t conceal the disdain and Tommy has had enough of the attitude, so he rips the paper out of Campbell’s hands and throws it away, pointing a finger to the policeman’s face.

“We had a fucking deal.”

“Mr. Shelby, if you read the papers, you might have seen that the Home Secretary has got himself into a bit of a fizz about certain moral issues. Prostitution, protection, racketeering, drinking, cocaine and, of course, gambling. He has demanded results.” As the Irishman lectures, Tommy starts to pace around, breath uneven, trying his best to not let his anger take over. He had to think of a way to get them out of this situation.

“You offered me protection. You promised me protection.”

“Well, no, you see it was Mr. Churchill that made you that promise. And the Home Secretary outranks him, so…” Campbell observes as Tommy walks around before saying. “And I can hardly be blamed if your demented brother decided to go on some sort of blood orgy during dinner.” The little patience that the gangster had was gone and as he approaches the policeman he is already shouting at him.

“Don't fucking lie to me! Do not sit here in your fucking church and lie to me!”

“You will need to contain your emotions or this meeting is at an end.” Tommy faces Campbell for a moment, his only wish is to put a bullet through his head, has been for a long time, but he tries his best to regain his composure, stepping back from the man and turning his back from him, resting his hands on the benches on the other side of the aisle. “Good. That's better. So, let us review the new situation. I have your brother in a prison cell charged with the murder of Billy Kitchen. The case against him is strong and I have no doubt that his destiny is to hang. And then there is Polly's son, Michael. He has already admitted to helping Arthur burn down the Marquis pub. He was a tough nut to crack, that boy, but crack he did. So I have your brother facing the noose, I have your cousin facing five years for arson. And I have your entire organization in disarray in Birmingham and in London.”

“What do you want?” Tommy asks, facing the policeman again.

“What do I want?!” Campbell looks at the gangster like he is not making sense at all. “I don't understand.”

“I have already agreed to do your fucking killing for you. Now, what is it you want from me?” Tommy’s voice is low and he punctuates every word. Campbell stands up from the bench to get closer to the gangster and the younger man just observes him, trying to conceal his anger.

“There you go, you see. An agreement is not the same thing as an assurance, now, is it? You see, I found I wasn't sleeping so well. It wasn't just the smell and the noise in that room, no. It was the nagging doubt. The knowledge… The knowledge that Tommy Shelby is not afraid to die. Therefore, the threat to your own life might not be enough to make it certain that you will obey me on the given day. I needed also the power of life and death over your family. And that I now have. Your brother, your cousin and your sister. I have known her address in Primrose Hill since the day she moved i, she is safe only as long as I want her to be. I have been ahead of you every step of the way. And, as my father used to say, to make sure your dog obeys you, you have to show it the stick once in a while.” He holds his cane up, as to illustrate his words, before walking out of the church, the echoes of the walking stick filling the air as Tommy stands there, weighing down his options.

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“Tommy, Arthur is in solitary confinement. Michael is in the remand wing of…” Lizzie follows him when he enters the office, but he is only partially registering what she is saying to him, the sound of the telephone ringing on the background.

“I already know. Get out, shut the doors.” She does as he says and Tommy sits on his desk, hands resting on the wood, eyes observing the telephone before he picks it up.

“Tommy? It's me. Tommy, can you hear me?” It’s impossible to not recognize the voice and the gangster is not sure about the way it makes him feel.

“Yes, Grace.”

“I think you called. I haven't slept.” He takes a deep breath before answering.

“Grace, this is not a good time.”

“I can call you back.” There is a hint of desperation on her voice, like she is clinging to something, a thread of hope perhaps. He should expect that, between her proposal before she left to America and the letters she kept sending him even when he didn’t answer none of them, even after she married, but part of him still felt a little surprised by her tone.

“No, it's fine. It's all right.”

“Can we meet?” The words had barely left his lips when she talks again and something occurs to Tommy - maybe this is the chance he has to balance things between him and Campbell and find out once and for all how he feels about her.

“Yes. We'll meet.”

“When?”

“Grace, there are some things I have to do first.”

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Tommy entered the Shelby house to find Polly sitting at the table in the room connected to the betting shop, smocking. He walked past her, entering the other room where John, Esme and Finn where waiting. Stooding near the table, hands behind his back, he prepared himself to survey the damage containment. “John?”

“The coppers have lifted ten of our men in Camden Town, the rest of them are on the run.”

“Tom, they've taken Michael.” It was Finn, clearly worried about his cousin’s situation.

“Business first.”Was all Tommy said to his brother to silence the boy.

“They took Michael last night...” Polly got up from her seat, clearly exasperated by the fact that her son was now in jail. All she wanted was a way to get him out, business be damned.

“I said business first.”

“They picked him up…” Tommy didn’t let her finish, raising his voice and looking at her as he said.

“Polly, business first!” She leaned into the doorframe, restless, her nephew ignored that, turning to look at his brother. “John?”

“They took all our whisky, so no doubt they'll be supping that for Christmas. They've impounded all our vans, put their own locks on the warehouse. The Eden Club and all our pubs have been raided by the coppers and handed back to Sabini and Solomons.” He paused for a moment, then continued. “The Black Country boys think it was Arthur that killed Billy because that's what the coppers told them. So there'll be no more free passes for our whisky boats.”

“I don't give a fuck about whisky. I don't give a fuck about Billy Kitchen. I want my son out of prison. Now.” Polly came forward talking directly at Thomas.

“Thomas, I spoke to Johnny Dogs...”

“This meeting should just be family.” The older woman interrupts Esme, not boring herself to look at the girl.

“I can help.” John’s wife protests but Polly directs her answer to Tommy again.

“It's family only, she is not blood, Tommy!”

“Let her speak.” The gangster says, trying to maintain his voice low.

“Or is this a business? Have you forgotten…”

“Enough!” He screams looking at his aunt. “Enough, Polly.” The man turns to his sister-in-law. “Esme?”

“I spoke to Johnny Dogs. The Lees are kin.”

“The bloody Lees!” Polly exclaims, not believing that Tommy is really considering the offer.

“They can give us men!” Esme argues.

“We don't need more fucking men! It's men that have done the damage! It... It... is men fighting like cockerels that have put us here in the first place.” Tommy just ignores his aunt outburst, knowing that she is not thinking rationally because of Michael’s situation.

“Esme, I'll take up their offer. We need men.” He takes a brief look at Polly, who stares at him, shaking her head before taking a step closer to him.

“If Michael ever gets out of prison, I am taking him away from this family. For good.” She marches up to Finn, taking the young boy by the arm, all the while Tommy observes her, quiet. “This life is bad. This life is all bad.”

“Aunt Pol, what are you doing?” The youngest Shelby protests as she forces him out of the room with her.

“Shut up and walk.” There’s just him, John and Esme on the betting shop now. They listen to the door opening and then closing. Tommy leans his hands into fists on the table, before sitting down on the chair in front of John.

“Thomas? Should I go and speak to Queen Mary Lee at the Black Patch?” Esme takes a step closer to her husband, watching as Thomas rests his elbows on the table, hands intertwined together in front of his mouth.

“Yes.”

“She can give us soldiers for a few nights.” She says and he just murmurs.

“Mm, good.” Fingers moving restlessly as he looks down onto the table, mind racing to think of solutions.

“John, go and bring up the car.” The other Shelby looks up at his wife, that just nods her head towards the door. He gets up from the chair, giving a last glance at his brother who is still silent, then he picks up his hat and leaves. Esme walks to the door to certifie herself that he really left before coming back to the table and inclining herself on the table to get closer to her brother-in-law. “Imagine riding away, Thomas. Living the real life, you know? Your Gypsy half is the stronger. You just want to ride away.” Thomas looks up at her, just observing quietly as she talks. “France is the new place for us, they say. Lot of metal lying around still. Guns and trucks and spent shells and things. Then you go south. Saintes-Maries, where the Black Madonna is. My brothers go sometimes for the fair. It's like a home for us. They still let you get lost there.” He lowers his hands to the table and leans closer to her, speaking low and calmly.

“I've been to France, Esme. So has John. Now get your coat and go with your husband.” The gangster just observes her for a moment, before taking her face between the fingers of his left hand. “And if you ever talk about getting lost again, I will cut you from this family.” After he releases her, Esme looks around, as to make a point, before speaking.

“What family?” And then she leaves and Thomas can’t help to think that she is not all wrong.

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Daphne doesn’t see Alfie before going to the bakery that morning, what she finds a little strange, because they usually go to work together, but she brushes it off as overthinking. Yet, things get weirder as she approaches the bakery and all the man go dead silent as she passes then. She ignores it too, like she ignores the little remnants of blood on the floor and the fact that Ollie seems more nervous than usual around her. That is until she has to get out of her office to ask something to Ollie and overhears a conversation between two of their employees - a conversation about the prison of one of the gypsy brothers.

She stops dead on her tracks, the two men see her and look at each other like they’ve just seem a ghost, until Ollie shoo them away, looking back at her with a very frightened expression. It’s then that it all comes weighing down on her - Alfie’s extrange behavior for all these past months, the fact that he wanted her out of the house last night, his cold demeanor towards her since the wedding.

Ollie tries to intercept her when she starts walking again but there is no stopping her as she storms through the corridor to Alfie’s office. Her breath is uneven and she has a hard time recognizing what exactly is the feeling bubbling under her skin - is it anger? Or maybe it’s betrayal but she can figure it out why she would feel that way. When she opens the door, unceremoniously, Alfie immediately looks up from whatever it is he is working on. He nods at Ollie, who is standing right behind her, and the younger man leaves, closing the door.

“You already know then?” There was no reason to pretend he didn’t know why she was there, he had been preparing himself for that all morning. Alfie reclines himself back into his chair, letting his glasses fall to his chest as he looks at her. She doesn’t sit on her usual chair, right in front of him, doesn’t think she can, not in the state she is in and that is his first sign of what is about to come.

“That’s what you’ve been hiding from me all along?” If he didn’t knew her so well, Alfie would think that she wasn’t unsettled by the news. Standing there, in the middle of his office, speaking to him without raising her voice, her speech did not falter, like this was just a normal conversation about the business and not the questioning that he knew it was, Daphne showed few signs of the raging battle roaring inside of her. She had always been good at concealing her feelings even when she was a kid, having been raised to be a proper lady, not letting others know that underneath all that pretense lived a real woman with real feelings.

“I knew you would vouch against it if I told ya.”

“Then you just decided that it was better to do it behind my back?” It was already bad enough to think the exact same thing on his head, hearing her said it out loud only made things ten times worse and he kinda hated himself for that.

“Look, love, I’ve told ya we were going to use them to win the war and then get rid of the fucking gypsies, haven’t I?” Rolling her eyes she asked him.

“Sabini is not a problem anymore then, is he?” Alfie almost swore under his breath - she was too damn perceptive, he had been fooling her for far more time than he thought was possible. The Jew took a deep breath before stating.

“We’ve made an agreement.” She laughs, humourless, hands resting on her waist before she traps him in her gaze.

“An agreement.” A pause. “Let me guess, he promised you that our bookies could go to Epsom this year in exchange of your help to get rid of the Blinders?” Daphne waits for him to say something, which he doesn’t, and she caughts herself massaging her temples as she paces around the room. “And like all the other times, he will deceive you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Don’t I?” She snaps at his tone, walking to his desk, standing between the two chairs and propping her hands, closed into fists, on the wood.

“We have a written deal.” He tries to hold his ground but stops as he hears her laugh again, mockingly.

“A written deal, of course, how haven’t I thought of this before, huh?” Her hazel eyes search for his blue ones. “Tell me, Alfie, this is what you call winning a war?”

“What do you know about winning wars, Daphne?” He regrets the words the moment they left his mouth, specially when she flinches away from him, taking a step back from the desk.

“I know plenty about war, Alfred, you know that better than anyone.”

“Daph…” The Jew almost gets up from his seat but she stops him before he could finish the movement.

“Don’t.” Turning her back to him, Daphne closes her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply, trying to keep her cool. “What did you do?”

“We’ve taken all of the clubs back and Arthur is in prison.” She looked at him from over her shoulder.

“For what?”

“The murder of Billy Kitchen.”

“That was your plan all along?” She hears him exhale loudly before his voice is heard.

“Not in detail, but yeah, it was the plan since the beginning, aye.”

“And you didn’t told me before… why?”

“Because you’ve turned soft, Daphne.” When she turned to face him his expression had changed, it’s like he was telling her something that is obvious. “I knew that from the moment that that fucking gypsy put foot on this bakery.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I knew you wouldn’t accept the deal with Sabinni because of Thomas.” He leans forward, resting his forearms on the desk, hands intertwined, venon in his voice.

“Tommy has nothing to do with me thinking that this deal is bad for us.” She snaps back at him and this time he is the one who laughs.

“He has everything to do with it, love, because you love him.” He pauses to gauge her reaction. Daphne shakes her head in denial.

“You are out of your damn mind.”

“I am out of my mind?” He stands up, leaning onto his fists, his tone of voice higher than before. “Are you even hearing yourself and how much of a hypocrite you are being, huh? How’s he any different than all the ones we betrayed before him, huh? I will tell you the difference, the difference is that you’ve let yourself fall in love with him, that’s the fucking difference, innit?”

“You know me well enough to know that I would never let my feelings get in the way of the business.”

“You don’t deny it then? You do love him, don’t you?” She doesn’t answer him and that only seems to add fuel to the fire. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were already sneaking around with him, huh? Opening your…”

“STOP!” Her scream seems to get him out of his trance and the hurt in her eyes is like a knife to his heart. “Don’t say something that you will regret later. Don’t make me hate you, Alfie, because I don’t know if I can come back from that.” They just stare at each other for a long moment before she speaks again. “Why do you keep me around, Alfie? Why do you keep me around if you truly believe that I will betray you at the first opportunity I have?”

“Because I made a fucking promise…” His tone is lower and solemn but she doesn’t let him finish.

“Fuck you and your promises. It’s not me you have to worry about, Alfred, is yourself.” His expression softens and Alfie almost takes a step back at the sheer force of her words. “You push everyone around you away, always have something up your sleeve to try and gain something from everybody. You want to call me a hypocrite, fine, maybe I am, but so are you. Because you stand there, looking at me and talking about fucking promises when you’ve been lying to me for months in a row and even after all these years that I’ve been nothing but loyal to you, you have the nerve to look me in the eye and tell me that you’re afraid I would betray you for somebody else.”

“Daph…” He walks around the table to get closer to her but she steps back, not letting him talk or get closer to her.

“If I really wanted to do that you really think I would choose Thomas? That I would have waited all these years listening from everyone how crazy I was to still be around you, hearing people calling me your mistress and God knows what else behind my back. If I really wanted to betray you, Alfie, I would have done it a hell lot sooner, because that’s all that Sabini has been waiting.”

Silence fills the room and neither of them is really sure how many time has passed when she speaks again.

“I’m going home. I’ll be there tomorrow morning, don’t wait for me.” He reaches for her as she turns to leave, catching her wrist on his hand, forcing her to face him.

“Are you leaving?” There is a certain level of desperation on his voice and there is no mistaking the worry in his blue eyes, she almost caves in.

“Yes, I’m leaving.”

“Where are you going?” Daphne takes a deep breath, holding his gaze.

“To a hotel. I need some time alone. I will still come to work, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“It’s not about the fucking work I’m worried about, innit?” There is silence again and she recognizes the conflict on his face. “And if I don’t let you go?”

“I’m not asking for your permission.” She breaks away from his hold and walks to the door while Alfie waits for her to look back. She doesn’t.

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“Where've you been?” Ada asks her aunt as she enters the room and sees her taking a bath.

“I went to the Spotted Dog in Digbeth for a glass or two of rum.” The younger woman observes her aunt and frowns, asking.

“Was it one glass or two?”

“It was three.” Polly looks around. “Where's the baby?”

“Sleeping.” Ada reclines herself into the couch. “More like five.” The older woman groans lightly, lifting her arms from the water to rest it on the rim of the tub ad look at her niece.

“It was more like six.” She reaches for the cigarette, resting on the ashtray on the table near her. “Did you meet the maid?”

“I talked politics with her, she got bored and went to bed.” They both chuckle at Ada’s statement. “I phoned James. He talked to the lawyer anyway. He said he'd take Arthur's case for free, so we don't need Tommy.” The older woman exhales loudly, clearly disturbed by the topic. “Pol? We'll get Michael free, as well, I promise.”

“There's no need, they're letting him out in the morning.” Her expression changes to something somber and Ada frowns, worried. “Do you still talk to Daphne?” The question sounds strange to the young woman, but she answers anyway.

“Yes.”

“Then tell her that the best thing she can do is stay away from your brother. She is a nice girl, has certainly suffered enough. There is no future for her besides a man like him.”

“Pol, why…”

“If the baby wants anything at night, ring the bell by the bed. She gets paid to work twenty four hours, that girl, she's getting lazy. Well, take advantage if you're nice.” Ada observes as her aunt leans into the tub and concludes that the best think she can do is leave her, so that’s what she does.

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Daphne doesn't sleep that night. She tosses and turns on the bed, restless, thinking about her fight with Alfie and how the Shelby’s might be dealing with all the trouble, until she decides that there is no reason to stay laying down when no sleep will come to her. So she gets up and sits on one of the armchairs by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey on her hands, eyes focused on the fire burning there.

She recalls the words exchanged between her and Alfie that morning and starts to question herself about his accusation. Had her judgment of the situation been tainted by her feelings towards Tommy? Had she really let herself be blinded by love, like Polly had waned her? She, who always had done her best to conceal her feelings from everybody and leave her life dealing with things as rationally as she could?

The burning of the alcohol down her throat brings her back to the present and she hears the banging on the door. Daphne tries to ignore it, thinking that it might be Alfie or one of his man. She doesn’t have the strength or the patience to deal with neither now. Then she hears talking and all of a sudden the doors opens and Harriet comes in - no makeup, loose hair and wearing a simple plain gray dress, a worried expression on her face.

“What happened?” The courtesan closes the door behind her, approaching the other woman, taking a sit on the vacant armchair. Daphne turns her face to look through the windows, noticing that is already dawning, she haven’t noticed how many time she had been there.

Harriet looks around before fixing her gaze on her friend again - the bed is disheveled but just one look at Daphne says enough for her to know that the woman hadn't had a minute of sleep in the past few hours. Her legs are pulled up on the chair, closer to her chest, hair messily tied in, an empty glass of whiskey in her hands.

“Ollie called me in the middle of the afternoon saying that Alfie was beyond himself and that you had left.” There is still no response, the only reaction she gets from Daphne is that she rests her head on the back of the armchair, body relaxing into the armchair as her gaze falls onto the fire. “He keeps saying that he fucked up and that he doesn’t deserves your trust but he refused to tell me the meaning of it.”

“We fought.” Harriet is almost giving up, preparing herself to leave, when Daphne’s voice resounds on the room.

“That much I could tell.” Hazel eyes focus on her and the courtesan sighs. “What about?”

“Thomas.” Daphne pauses, inhales deeply before moving to serve herself another glass of whiskey. “Well, I thought it was about the business, but you can say that the main reason was him.” Harriet says nothing, waiting, because she knows that pressing her right now is not the best of choices. “Did you knew?”

“Knew what?”

“About his plans to serve the Shelby’s to Sabini on a silver plate.” They look at each other for a moment before Harriet answers.

“No. I had my suspicions that he would do something about them soon but he never told me anything.” Daphne only hums in response, taking a sip of her drink. “What did he do?” The other woman sneers.

“He made a deal with Sabini so our bookies could work Epsom this year. They have raided all the clubs taken by the Blinders and Tommy’s older brother is in jail, framed by the murder of one of their men.”

“Oh my…”

“That’s what he had been hiding from me all these months.” Daphne downs the rest of the whiskey, observing as she turns the glass in her hand. “I told him that Sabini was going to betray him like he has done so many times before and he told me that I was being a hypocrite questioning his actions because we have done that before.” She takes a deep breath, looking at the fire again. “And that I was only doing that because I loved Tommy.”

“What the fuck! Alfie is out of his damn mind?!” Harriet gets up from her sit, takes the glass from Daphne's hands and pours whiskey on it, taking it in one gulp.

“He is not.” The courtesan turns to face her friend, who is still sprawled out on the armchair.

“What…”

“He may have said some things that he shouldn’t, but he is not out of his mind.” Daphne’s expression is devoid of emotion and she is calmer than she had been on the previous day. “The thing is... The thing is he is right, Harriet. Alfie is right. The only difference between Thomas and all of the other people we betrayed is that I love him.”

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