Chapter Text
London, England 1927
Eleanor Blake hated the painting hanging on the oak-paneled wall of her office. The muted colors were lifeless and the artwork itself held no significant meaning. It was a simple meadow with little yellow flowers sprinkled amongst the grass. What was that supposed to make her feel? Peace, perhaps. Or maybe even joy. At the moment, it only made her feel annoyed.
She sighed and looked down at the file on her mahogany desk. She was starting the day with a new client – well, to be fair, all her clients were still new to her, as she had only been working at this psychology practice for two months.
Eleanor moved to London straight after earning her doctorate in Psychology at Stanford University. While she was amongst some of the youngest in her class, there were many women on the same path as her. Stanford was one of very few American Universities which allowed women entry. At the age of 26, she could admit it was rare to be so accomplished especially as a woman. She was constantly needing to prove herself in an industry – in a world – dominated by men.
Thankfully, she was raised by a father who knew what the world would be like for his sweet-faced, optimistic daughter. He toughened her up when it was necessary. He encouraged her to believe in herself always. At least, that was who her father was before the war. Before everything changed.
The memory of her mother embracing her tightly at her graduation flashed into Eleanor’s mind. As well as those haunting words, “He would be so proud of you, Ellie.”
Eleanor shook her head and rubbed her temples, clearing her head of the painful reminders of what she left behind. She opened the file that was waiting for her.
Thomas Michael Shelby, OBE
White Male, Age 36
Widower
Great War Decorated Veteran: Rank Sergeant Major (suffered no physical injuries during deployment nor any recorded mental trauma post war)
Current Prescriptions: No records found.
Past Prescriptions: No records found.
That was it? This had to have been the least amount of information on a patient she had ever received. Not even a single picture was present in the file. She wasn’t surprised to learn of his experience in the war. England and France had the highest rates of shell shock cases, thereby making war-battered men the most common psychiatric patients.
A sharp knock at the door pulled her out of her research. “Come in, please.” She said softly as she tucked the file back into her desk.
A well-built man confidently strode into the room, wearing an expensive, grey three-piece suit. His black boots gleamed even under the less-than-ideal lighting her office lamps provided. He carried a matching black leather briefcase in leather-incased hands. His dark brown hair was styled in what she knew now as the undercut, a hairstyle many men in England seemed to favor.
Eleanor rose from her seat and subconsciously smoothed out the fabric of her chiffon emerald dress. She noticed his shockingly blue eyes follow her hand movements down her sides. “Mr. Shelby?” Her dimpled smile triggered his own subtle one. “My name is Dr. Eleanor Blake; I look forward to speaking with you today.”
Mr. Shelby began stripping the leather gloves from his hands and leaned across her desk to greet her with a polite handshake. “A pleasure to meet you, Eleanor.”
The throaty tone of his voice paired with the intimate use of her first name caused goosebumps to rise across her skin, and she was thankful in that moment to be wearing a long-sleeved dress. The goosebumps increased at the feel of his roughened hand meeting her soft one. He may have dressed like a flush elitist but there was no mistaking those hands.
Thomas Shelby was a working man.
She cleared her throat and gestured to the brown leather chair across from her desk. “Please, take a seat.”
“Mind if I have a smoke?” Mr. Shelby asked after placing a cigarette gracefully between his lips, adjusting comfortably in the chair.
Clearly a man who is used to having his way.
“Actually, Mr. Shelby, I would appreciate it if you refrained from smoking in my office.”
The thumb he had placed on his lighter paused. Thomas cleared his throat a moment later and pulled the cigarette from his mouth. “My apologies, Miss Blake. Your office, your rules.”
There was an almost playful gleam in his eyes and upward turn of his full lips. This man considered himself to be quite the charmer, she noted.
“Could I ask for a glass of whiskey?”
She smiled apologetically, “For obvious reasons we do not allow alcohol to be consumed during sessions here, Mr. Shelby.”
“That is unfortunate.” He sighed dramatically, still looking at her with that same playfulness. “It will be much harder for you to get me to talk without whiskey involved.”
Eleanor grinned and tucked a lock of light blonde hair behind her ear. “It would be unwise of you to underestimate my abilities, Mr. Shelby.”
His eyes hooded slightly, “I have no doubt you have exceptional abilities, Eleanor. I would be a fool to stop you from showing me just how exceptional.”
It pained her to know her cheeks pinked at the comment. Having a job in this career field was one thing, receiving equal respect was another beast altogether. Eleanor could not afford any flirtations disrupting her goals.
She cleared her throat, “Let’s start with what you are comfortable sharing, Mr. Shelby.”
“Well,” he tapped his fingers against the chair and looked around the room for a moment. “I’m a businessman, the owner of Shelby Company Limited. I have a son; and his name is Charlie.”
“What does your company do?”
For a moment, she could have sworn she saw mischief swim through his pale blue eyes. As if there was a joke she was missing out on. “Automobiles. And soon, gin.”
“How long have you been running this company, Mr. Shelby?”
Thomas pondered for a moment. Perhaps he was doing the math or perhaps he was figuring out what to leave out. “I began building the business upon my return from France.”
She nodded in acknowledgement; however, she decided it best to refrain from pushing anything further about France. That was something he would share when he was ready.
“Just you?”
He rubbed his index finger across his mouth, quite possibly yearning for the relief of a cigarette. “Me family and I, I should say. It is a family business.”
Eleanor chose her next words carefully, “Do you feel your family helped you enough in the building of this company?”
A smile cracked through the surface, albeit one not so humorous. Thomas sighed, “Nobody understood my vision at first, they fought me on most things. They understand now. They trust my judgement.”
“It must have been stressful,” she noted softly. “Carrying all that weight on your own.”
Thomas clasped his hands nonchalantly in his lap, and with an almost pompous raise of a brow he said, “No one else can do what I do.”
Not pompous but self-assured.
“Do you not trust your family to help you, Mr. Shelby?” Eleanor waited a moment, letting her words sink into him. “Surely, you must trust them as they are apart of Shelby Company Limited, alongside you.”
Thomas pressed his fingers lightly against his mouth once more as he leisurely set his stare behind her. Through her. When he finally looked back at her he began to squint his eyes with a sardonic intention. “I see you earned your degree at Stanford University, Miss Blake. Quite the accomplishment.”
She blinked, taking a moment to register his quick change in demeanor. Ellie knew by his tone he was not saying this to flatter her. Despite the quickening rise of tension, she held his challenging gaze. “Respectfully, Mr. Shelby, I insist you refer to me as Dr. Blake, not Miss Blake.”
“However,… your accent,” he smirked lightly, pretending to not hear her words as he pointed a finger towards her. “Your accent is familiar to me. New York, eh? Very distinct.”
She furrowed her brows, unsettled and unsure of the point he was making. The intense look on his face made her uneasy. It was as if they were playing a game in which she did not know the rules. Okay, maybe he was pompous after all.
“New York. California.” He allowed his pointed finger to raise at the plaque hanging behind her before thumping his whole hand down onto the leather chair. His expression becoming one of lazy arrogance. “London. You are certainly well-traveled, Miss Blake.”
Being under his scrutinizing gaze felt like being trapped under a microscope. She gently grasped the hem of her dress, seeking phantom comfort. The simple movement caught his attention, his cold blue eyes focusing on her left hand. “Unmarried.” He declared softly. His eyes trickled up to her face, pausing at her lips. “No lipstick. No scent of perfume. I suppose it would be safe to assume you moved to London alone.”
An icy chill ran down her spine. It was at that moment she realized he had been analyzing and observing her from the minute he stepped into the room. Just as she had been with him.
“Tell me, what did your family think of you moving across the pond?” His eyes drifted up her body, leaving a scorching path in their wake, and lingering on her chest for a moment too long. “Attractive young woman traveling the world alone.” He tsked and scrunched his eyebrows in false concern. She couldn’t help tracking the motion of his tongue peaking out to wet his bottom lip. “Does your family think anything about you at all, Miss Blake?”
She could feel the splintering in her chest as the melancholy seeped out of her heart. For a second, she forgot to breathe. Quickly, she reeled it in, hoping he didn’t see the flash of pain that was sure to have shown in her eyes.
Eleanor knew she hit a nerve at the mention of his family, however she wasn’t expecting him to bite back so viciously. How had she allowed him to smoothly gain so much control in this conversation? She was the professional, and she needed to get the conversation back on track. “We are not here to talk about me, Mr. Shelby.”
Thomas raised his hands in mocking defeat. “There is no shame in admitting why you are really here.”
She resisted the urge to scoff and use a few unprofessional words. Instead, she took a deep breath and leveled her chin at him. She would not be bullied by this man. “And why am I here, Mr. Shelby?”
Calculating. His eyes were calculating, and she did not enjoy being on the receiving end one bit. “To prove yourself.”
“Is that what your family needs to do, Mr. Shelby? Prove themselves to you in order for you to trust them?”
The arrogance began slipping away from his face. Eyes that were once alive with challenge and interest were quickly frosting over with displeased coldness. “You know nothing about me family. You know nothing about what we had to fucking go through to become what we are now.”
She believed him, truly she did. Nonetheless, she leaned forward with a softened yet firm tone. “My job, Mr. Shelby, is to understand you and your life. That is the only way I can help you.”
His eyes shifted lower to stare at her hands once more. They had tightened significantly around the fabric of her dress during their conversation. Slowly, she released her grip and picked up her work journal from its permanent spot on her desk. As she touched the pen to paper, his gruff voice startled her.
“That will be all for today.” He said in a dismissive tone. Before she could make a light quip about it being her job to end the session, he surprised her with the following statement.
“Until next Wednesday, Dr. Blake.”
Eleanor nodded in stunned silence as he gathered his briefcase and excused himself from the room. He was planning on coming back and he addressed her properly. She shook her head at the conundrum that was her newest client. After a disastrous first session, he made the promise of returning. As arrogant as Thomas Shelby could present himself, he was not a man who gave up easily.
She looked back down at her journal and wrote down two sentences.
Thomas Shelby displays signs of hyper-independence. Thomas Shelby uses observational intelligence as a defense mechanism to avoid emotional acknowledgment.
Fuck Polly. Fuck Ada. Fuck anyone else who thought he couldn’t handle himself like a man.
He walked out of the brick building with his head low, the cover of his hat shielding most of his identity. He wouldn’t be able to show his face in Birmingham again if he was caught leaving a psycho-therapy practice.
The truth of it was the nightmares had returned. The sounds of shovels. The shouts of desperate men. The screams of realization as bullets penetrated the bodies belonging to his fellow soldiers. The labored breathing of his wife as she died in his arms.
Thomas saw ghosts everywhere he went. Ghosts of the men he fought alongside in France, of Grace, and of his brother John.
Opium no longer soothed the pain in his mind. Drink no longer numbed the pain in his heart. He knew he was starting to worry his staff at Arrow House with his nonsensical sleep walking and hallucinations.
More importantly, Charles was beginning to understand the mess that was his father. Shame settled in Thomas’s gut as he recalled the last time Charlie walked in on him curled up in a pitiful position on his bedroom floor. He remembered the fear in his son’s eyes just one week prior. He had his mother’s sweet, concerning face.
“That poor child has already lost his mother.” Polly hissed as she jerked Thomas by the chin to make him meet her strong gaze. “Don’t you dare make him lose his father.”
Ada quietly walked around Polly and cut between the two, holding a warm wet cloth to Thomas’s face. She gently wiped away the vomit at the corner of his mouth. “You cannot keep living this way, Tommy. You need to get some help. Some professional help.”
In his delirious state he was still able to take offense. “Do I look like one of those fucking pathetic sods, drooling in a cushioned room without the use of his hands?”
“Drooling? No.” Polly quipped with a judgmental expression. “Pathetic? Absolutely.”
Ada gave her aunt a warning glare. “Polly, you are not helping.” She shifted Thomas to sit up more independently. “I know a great practice in London. It’s becoming more common than you think to talk to someone.” Her eyes pleaded at him to listen to her. “I promise it will help and they can be as discreet as you’d like. No one will know outside of the family. Do this for Charlie. He needs you.”
Thomas laughed quietly, his eyes staring at the empty doorway which was filled moments ago by his terrified 5-year-old. “He doesn’t need me, Ada. He needs his mother. He needs Grace.”
“Grace is gone, Thomas.” Polly said firmly with a touch of sympathy. “Now, it’s time for you to get your shit together, for the sake of this family and for the company.”
Yes, his family was concerned for his health. What would happen to them if he was no longer the brains behind the operations? What would happen to all the precious money if he stopped working? No, giving up on himself was not an option. His family was counting on him to pull through. Always counting on him. Always needing him to be okay.
So, he would be okay. Even if he had to pretend to be.
Notes:
Hello :) this is my first story in the Peaky Blinders community so I’m a bit nervous! Comments are very welcomed. I hope you enjoyed the read <3
Chapter Text
At Arrow House, Frances poured steaming Yorkshire tea into teacups for the two Shelby siblings. There were always guests coming and going; always Shelbys running about. Ada was the only family member of Mr. Shelby whom Frances truly enjoyed being around. In Frances’ eyes, the only female Shelby, was well-mannered and stayed out of trouble. She kept Thomas grounded during these trying times.
Ada smiled at the housekeeper in appreciation before picking up her tea. “Thank you, Frances.”
Thomas cleared his throat while he tucked away his pocket watch. “Yes, thank you, Frances. That will be all for now.”
Frances bowed her head gracefully before silently leaving the room. On rainy days like this one, Ada liked to bring Carl over to play with Charlie. They sat in Thomas’ office as they watched the children play together on the floor.
“You drink tea now, Tommy?” Ada smiled, watching Thomas slowly stir cream into his hot cup.
Her older brother shook his head with disapproval. “Promised Dr. Holford I would try to drink less whiskey.”
She took a sip from her own cup, “And how are things going with the new doctor?”
Thomas scoffed bitterly, his mind picturing the educated young blonde. “The first appointment was brief, if that answers your question.” He took a drink of his tea, made a face, and reached for the whiskey before adding a splash to his cup. “There, that’s better.”
“Tommy,” Ada scolded him disappointedly, “What about what Dr. Holford said?”
“I told him I would try.” He took another drink, this time much more satisfied, “and try I did.”
His younger sister rolled her eyes and sat more comfortably on the lounge chair. She had to pick her battles. Right now she was more curious about how his psychiatrist was treating him.“Why was the appointment brief?”
“Didn’t like the way she spoke to me.” Thomas muttered before tossing back the rest of his whiskey tea. Tossing back a teacup didn’t feel the same as a glass tumbler.
“She?” Ada’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “How modern! I knew the practice itself was moving towards modern ideas, but I hadn’t realized they had a female doctor on the staff. That’s quite impressive.”
Thomas rolled his eyes. Yes, quite impressive indeed. The young woman caught him by surprise, he could admit it. She was able to unsettle him during their conversation. Something most people couldn’t do.
“The little bird was not intimidated by me in the slightest.” He lit a cigarette before continuing. “I have my next appointment tomorrow.”
”Have you told the rest of the family about your Wednesday appointments yet?”
He shook his head adamantly, “Just you and Polly know. I’d like to keep it that way, Ada.”
She nodded in understanding. “I’m proud of you for doing this.” She playfully nudged him with her knee. “Don’t scare her off.”
He snorted, “If I’m able to do that then she’s clearly in the wrong profession.”
She cocked a challenging eyebrow at her brother, “You clearly don’t pay attention to yourself when you’re being a bastard.”
Their own laughter was interrupted by the eruption of high pitched giggles from the boys playing across the room. Charlie was sitting atop Carl, riding him like a cowboy on the wooden floor. “Giddy up, horsey!”
Ada looked back over at Tommy with a grin. “They remind me of how you and Arthur used to play together.”
He smirked, his cold blue eyes going distant, searching through the memories. “We still get that way sometimes. Now instead of our imaginations, we use guns.”
Ada’s grin turned into a soft smile, almost sad. “Charlie looks so much like her.”
Thomas exhaled his smoke but didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what words to say, if he had any to use.
Thomas quietly stared at his son smiling gleefully with his cousin. The innocence of children was something he always worked hard to protect, especially his sons’. He knew Grace felt the same, as he recalled so many conversations with her about how dangerous his work was to their family.
However, it was hard for him to remember those conversations when they were drowned out by memories of her blood. Some days all he could hear was chaos, and all he could see was the light leaving her blue eyes. On those days all he cared about was power. What became important was being stronger. Unbeatable. Untouchable.
The white line of cocaine was clumsily laid out in front of Arthur Shelby, a line he was about to indulge in before his little brother stormed into his office.
“What the hell, Tommy?” His gruff voice boomed throughout the small space. “What’s the point of being Chairman of the company if I can’t get any fucking privacy, eh?!”
“Apologies, Arthur.” Tommy sighed as he placed himself in the chair across from his older brother’s desk. He casually acknowledged the white powder on the desk that was once his. “Don’t let me stop you from playing in the snow.”
Arthur grumbled in annoyance but nonetheless quickly made the line disappear. He wiped his nose aggressively, “Why are you here, brother?”
Tommy lit a cigarette and leaned back in the black leather chair. “We need the gin to be shipped out sooner than I anticipated.”
“And why is that?” Arthur inquired as he placed a glass in front of Tommy and himself. He reached for the nearest bottle of Irish Whiskey and began to pour. “I thought they weren’t expecting it at the docks for another two months, Tom.”
Thomas released his smoke into the air. “There’s been a change in plans. The buyers in Boston and New York need it three weeks ahead of schedule.”
Arthur downed his glass before speaking. “Alright. What about Nova Scotia?”
“We’ll be delivering their share as well. Better to do it all in one go. I doubt they will complain about an early shipment.” Thomas reached across the desk to snatch up the mostly full bottle of whiskey Arthur had just poured from. He inspected the labeling closely. “You’re drinking Jameson now? I always took you for a Bushmills man, Arthur.”
The older Shelby grunted, “I’ll take whatever bottle is nearest to me these days.”
Thomas nodded numbly as he continued to look down at the bottle in his hands. He understood his older brother all too well. Any drink would do, as long as it quieted the voices in his head.
“Does Michael know about this change in plan?” Arthur’s question pulled Tommy back to the conversation before him.
“Michael knows what he is supposed to know.”
Arthur knew well enough not to push that question any further. Instead, he quietly stared at his younger brother, taking a good look at Tommy for the first time since he entered his office. He focused on the dark circles under his eyes and the unnatural paleness of his skin.
“Have you…” Arthur trailed off awkwardly, not really sure how to ask his question. “Have you been sleeping all right lately, Tom?”
Tommy barely had his head raised fully before Arthur started babbling away, something he did when he was uncomfortable. “I’m sure you’re fine, eh? Just thought I’d ask, you know, be the big brother. I’m supposed to ask these sort of things –”
“I’m fine, Arthur.” Tommy cut him off quietly. “Nothing you should worry yourself about.”
Arthur nodded curtly, darting his eyes somewhere else and clearing his throat. “Well, I’ll be sure to let the men at the factory know your orders, Tom. You can count on me.”
Thomas neither agreed nor denied the statement. He simply put his cigarette out in the ashtray and stood from his chair. “Thanks for the whiskey, Arthur.”
The oldest Shelby was about to casually accept Tommy’s gratitude when his eye caught a glimpse of the glass bottle in his little brother’s hand as he strolled to the door. “Where are you going with my fucking whiskey, eh?!” Arthur bellowed as Thomas continued to ignore him and walked out of his office.
Arthur sighed before looking back down at his books. “You’re fucking welcome.”
“Mr. Shelby, I already informed you alcohol is not allowed during our sessions.” Dr. Blake spoke softly yet firmly. She looked at the tall bottle of dark liquor with disapproval, and if Tommy wasn’t mistaken, he could also see traces of disgust in her bright green eyes.
Tommy grinned smoothly, “I was hoping you’d be willing to make an exception for me, Dr. Blake. You see, I find it relaxes me.”
Eleanor gave him a deadpan look. “It tends to relax most people, Mr. Shelby. That’s the point of alcohol.”
He twisted the cap off the glass bottle and shook his head in disagreement. “You haven’t met my brother Arthur. He is the antithesis of a relaxed human being.”
Thomas abruptly stood from his chair and sauntered over to her side table in search of a glass. “It is your goal to have your clients be relaxed, is it not?” He turned his head to look back at her. “I am simply helping you help me.” All he saw were teacups. Desperate times called for desperate measures. He picked up two cups and made his way back to his chair.
After placing both cups onto her desk and pouring his own, he looked up at her expectedly. Tommy almost laughed at the disgruntled expression on her face. She reminded him of a small child who was just told they couldn’t have any sweets. It had been ages since something made him laugh. “None for the lady then, eh?”
She shook her head with pursed lips. “This will be a one-time only luxury, Mr. Shelby.”
He sipped at his teacup before leaning back in his chair and giving her a sincere look. “I would prefer if you called me Thomas.”
Eleanor raised a feminine brow. “I have already been lenient enough with your requests today, Mr. Shelby, and we’ve only just started.”
His full lips turned up slightly. “Fair enough, doctor.”
Eleanor broke eye contact to access her journal out of the top drawer of her mahogany desk. The lull in conversation allowed him to take in her appearance. She was wearing a purple dress; the cut of the neckline showcased her subtle collarbones. His eyes traveled upwards. Still no lipstick. Such a shame, she had a delectable pair of lips. He could imagine what a brilliant shade of red would do for them.
Her right hand rose to gently tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. Although her hair was pinned back it was a lovely shade of blonde, not quite honey-colored but he imagined it could look that way in a dimly lit room. Like his bedroom.
“How have things been since the last time we spoke?”
“Can’t complain.” Thomas sighed, he was exhausted just thinking about all that needed to be done. “Shelby Company Limited is about to export its first shipment of gin and our shareholdings in America have been stable.”
She looked at him curiously for a second before gliding her pen across her journal. Something about that action caused an anxious stir in his gut. “That’s great, Mr. Shelby. However, I was asking how you have been doing, not your company.”
He shrugged nonchalantly, “As long as the money is coming in, I am satisfied.”
“Money fixes everything for you, Mr. Shelby?”
“Of course, it does.” He stated in an obvious tone, “I’m a businessman.”
She gently put her pen down. “You’re also a man who has dealt with a lot of struggles in your life.”
“Makes me all the more appreciative of the money I make now.”
“Appreciative or obsessive?”
Thomas blinked slowly as he registered what she was accusing him of. The gleam in his eyes turned cold quickly. He silently watched her for a moment, before slowly placing his teacup back onto her desk. He leaned back once more. His fingers rested against his mouth as he longed for a drag of a cigarette.
“I’m just a man trying to make an honest living in a very dark world. If that makes me obsessive then so be it.”
Thomas clenched his jaw as she lowered her head once more to write in her little book. Her right hand reached up again to tuck a phantom strand of hair behind her ear. A nervous habit, it seemed. His eyes caught the glimmer of a pearl earring pierced delicately in her ear.
“It must have cost a lot of money,” His deep voice triggered her to look up at him. “All that education, I mean.”
Dr. Blake nodded slowly. “Yes, I suppose it did.” She resumed writing her notes.
“Not to mention the traveling costs.” He continued, a dark smile taking its place on his lips. “Mummy and daddy pay for all that, sweetheart?”
He could see the hidden rage fighting to stay behind her eyes.
“I do believe that is none of your business.” She spoke sharply.
Thomas leaned his face against his hand and stared at her. Taunting her with a haughty expression. “You came to London straight after earning your doctorate, is that right?”
Dr. Blake nodded cautiously, “What is your point, Mr. Shelby?”
“My point is,” He leaned forward and spoke with a whispered rage. “You sit there and dare to judge me about how I view money.” He breathed out an arrogant laugh. “Meanwhile you’ve had everything fucking handed to you, eh? I’ve earned my place in this dark world, Dr. Blake. Have you?”
The silence between them grew thick. For a few short moments, all that could be heard was the heavy breathing from them both. Her green eyes were no longer soft and professional. No, they were alive with bewilderment and fury. A small shiver ran up his spine as she glared at him. He liked it.
“That will be all for today, Mr. Shelby.” Her shoulders were tense, and the grip she had on her pen turned her knuckles white. She looked back down at her book and spoke quietly yet sternly. “You may go now.”
He continued to stare at Eleanor for a moment, thinking she might look back up at him. She didn’t. He awkwardly cleared his throat and stood from his chair, almost stopping to say something. An apology perhaps. Maybe he pushed her too far. He was aware his temper caused him to lash out too harshly at times. He shook his head and continued his way out the door. He would not apologize to this girl who had spent the last thirty minutes judging him.
I don’t fucking care, he thought bitterly. He had been misunderstood his entire life. Why would it matter what she thought of him?
Today had not been Eleanor’s best. How could she allow that man to dominate their session again? She could not keep allowing him to disrespect her. Every time she thought she was getting somewhere with him, he pierced her with those cold blue eyes and flipped the conversation with his cruel words. Something needed to change soon, or she would have no choice but to reassign Thomas Shelby to a different psychiatrist.
A frustrated sigh passed her lips as she kicked off her kitten heels and shrugged out of her black wool coat. The matching black hat landed lazily on her small dining table, just a few steps from the front door. Her slim hands started plucking out the pins in her hair as she walked towards her kitchenette to put the kettle on.
While she waited for the water to heat, Eleanor sat at her table and massaged her temples. Once the throbbing ache disappeared she reopened her eyes.
The letter she had received a few days ago caught her attention. Anxiety and dread churned in her gut, quickly followed by guilt as she knew who it was from. With hesitating hands, she opened the letter.
March 18th, 1927
My Dearest Ellie,
How is the city of London treating you, my girl? Hopefully I will be able to board a boat to see you within the next year or so. You can show me everything about your new life abroad. The ladies at Mr. Landon’s shop asked about you the other day. They wish you all the best.
I hope this letter finds you before the 31st. I am taking your brother to visit your father on his birthday. They are allowing him visitation for the special occasion. Do not worry, I will tell him you are thinking of him and miss him dearly. He will be so excited to hear about your travels. Your father has always been so proud of you, as all of us have. Sometimes I think of all you have achieved and feel as if my heart could burst. Take care of yourself and enjoy this new path.
I love you with all of my heart,
Mom
The roaring whistle from the tea kettle brought her back to reality. Eleanor quickly realized her cheeks were wet and it was getting hard to breathe out of her nose. She distractedly patted her cheeks as she made her way over to the stove.
As her conflicting emotions swirled through her, she blindly grabbed a teacup before picking up the kettle. Her hammering heart and shaking hands made it difficult to focus on the task. The boiling water spilled onto the front of her dress, causing an instant pain to spread across her abdomen. The tea kettle was abruptly dropped back onto the stove with a loud clang.
“Shit, shit, shit…” she whimpered as she used a nearby towel to pat her stomach in vain.
Angrily, Eleanor tossed the towel onto the counter, causing her teacup to tip over and creating more of a mess. In a furious rage she grabbed the porcelain cup and threw it across the room, forcing it to crash against the wall. It shattered. She grabbed another one and threw it. It shattered.
With a sob, she placed her hands over her face and sank to the floor. She had never felt so alone. Nor had she ever felt so guilty in her entire life.
It wasn’t fair that her father was locked away for something he couldn’t control. It wasn’t fair that her mother was left alone to raise their family. It wasn’t fair that she got to be here, doing what she loved.
Maybe Thomas Shelby was right. Maybe she didn’t deserve this life.
Notes:
Welp... we all knew this wouldn't be easy for Tommy lol the first few sessions were likely to be dumpster fires. Please stick with me though, these two will get there it's just going to take a while for them to build their relationship. I have so many ideas for Ellie and Tommy and can't wait to write them!
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you all for the support thus far, it means so much to me. :)