CHAPTER SEVEN:
EVERY BEGINNING ENDS

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1914

IT TOOK TOMMY THREE months to ask Nel to marry him. Ninety days of meticulous planning right down to the most miniscule of details. He was dressed in the finest suit he owned, one that he got made just for the evening. His hair was slicked back in the way that Nel liked it, and he spent most of the money to his name getting his mother's ring resized and refurbished. By the time his wallet had emptied out, the diamond shone like the brightest of stars.

And yet, in Tommy's entirely unbias opinion, it still paled in comparison to Nel's eyes.

He didn't tell anyone, only his aunt. She helped him plan everything; his right-hand man, his mother at heart. A woman's touch, Polly had insisted the second she realised something was amiss and cornered Tommy into admitting the truth. It makes a world of difference, Thomas. Trust me.

He did. And so Polly took him to every jeweller in Birmingham and surrounds until they found the one. It was a plain band given to his mother by a man nowhere near good enough for her, made of soft silver tainted by years worth of suffering. But the diamond gleamed like it was brand new. It was the only light in a dimly lit room, the source of envy for every other woman who would see it on Nel's finger.

Well, if she said yes, that is. But Tommy was so sure she'd be over the moon. They spoke so often of the future, it was hard to imagine her having any other reaction.

At long last, the day came, but the past several month had been weighed down by the threat of war hanging over their heads. If it came down to it, Tommy and his oldest brother, Arthur, would have to fight. Maybe John as well, if Martha could stomach letting him go. Tommy and Nel's wedding would have to wait a while, but surely Nel wouldn't mind.

Nonetheless, to be on the safe side of things, Tommy avoided Nel like the plague for the better part of a week. He was convinced she would somehow know, as most women did, and he'd cave and the whole surprise would be ruined.

Tommy wanted Nel's day to be perfect.

And it was, at first.

Nel never saw it coming.

But doubt always found a way in.

They were walking along the canal with Nel's hand resting in the crook of Tommy's shoulder. It was a cloudy day (unfortunately; as much as he'd want to, Tommy couldn't command the weather) and the air was thick with smoke and fog, but the sun was warm through the thick grey sheen, and so Nel decided to wait a minute beneath the awning of the dock, letting the cool shadow pool over their heads for a second. All of a sudden, Tommy had gone quiet. Nel turned around curiously...

Only to find him down on one knee.

"Thomas..." she gasped, and her first instinct was to smile.

He had a ring pressed between his fingers, one that Nel had vaguely seen before. She had known that Tommy possessed his mother's wedding ring. Never did she think he would want to give it to her.

For a second, he said nothing. He merely matched her smile as Nel clapped a hand over her mouth. Her heart started to pound in a relentless rhythm, longing to beat its way out of her ribcage. The sound seemed to echo in her ears like a river of rushing blood. It was so loud she almost missed what he said.

Almost.

"There's no one else for me but you, Nellie." It was simple but earnest. Tommy had never been good with words of the heart. Not ones that mattered, at least. But the ones he did manage, Nel treasured like fine jewels. He meant every single one, and Nel's heart started to hurt, a bit of her smile fading. "I love you. Will you do me the honour of being my wife? Just you and me?"

Yes, she thought, as her hands slowly came down to curl around her stomach. There is nothing I want more.

But Nel couldn't pretend she wasn't scared.

No, scared wasn't right. She was terrified out of her mind. Her whole life, she had pictured this very moment. When she was younger, the man proposing to her had no face. He was a figment of hope she cherished beyond reasoning, and when she met Tommy and he asked to court her, her imaginary man's features slowly but surely changed; slicked-back dark hair, bright blue eyes, a jaw like roughly cut glass. There was no doubt in her mind that Tommy Shelby was it for her, but there were so many what-ifs to consider.

Too many to put into words.

What if he found someone better?

What if he woke up one day and decided that he didn't love her anymore? When she had given up so much of herself?

And the most daunting one... what if he went away to war and came back in a coffin?

"I can't."

She said it without thinking twice about it. But in that moment, with dread pooling in her gut like acid, she knew it was right for her.

Nel didn't want to get married only to lose her husband so soon.

War was bloody. War was brutal. War did not care about the wives and children, mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters who were left behind to wait. War wanted bodies, and Tommy Shelby was a body that could be used. Him, Arthur and John spoke of war like a holiday. We'll be back before you know it. But Nel was no fool. Even if it broke her, even if she lost him and their relationship forever, she would not lose her whole heart and soul when he died a soldier, not a man.

"I don't understand," Tommy said. He stood when the reality of Nel's words settled in, like the thought of her looking down on him for a moment longer was unbearable. "I don't... what the fuck, Nel?"

"It's easier this way." She wanted him to know the truth. He deserved that much. It wasn't a lack of love for him, or a resentment of the future they wanted. It was protection. For as long as she could get it.

Maybe Helen Mavis was just selfish.

And Tommy Shelby had given her a bit too much.

He looked like he'd been sucker-punched, cut across the eyes with his own cap. The sea of blue seemed to glisten, like a waterfall threatening to spill over. Nel couldn't bare to look at him, to know she was the wicked person who put that expression of hurt on his face.

If he just listened, he would see it too. Tommy Shelby was a realist. He knew sense when he saw it...

"This way, if you die on me, it won't hurt as much."

Tommy let out a cold laugh. "Fuck, Helen. Holy fuck." He couldn't think of much else.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?"

Still laughing, he began to turn away. "Okay," he murmured, and his voice was hollow.

Nel could feel him slipping; but like water trickling through clenched fists, like a bleeding bullet wound beneath a band-aid, Nel couldn't hold onto him. He disappeared like the clouds had eaten the sun. Thunder rolled in as his figure retreated. Nel could've chased him, but she'd made her choice.

She could let him go.

I love you, Thomas, she thought as she stood there, alone, the only sounds being the distant storm and the lapping of water against stone below. Her heart seemed to have stopped beating, withering like a picked rose. More than I could've ever told you.

Two weeks later, the war came.

Tommy and his brothers left on a train, and four years passed with no news of them that Helen could catch wind of. Eventually, her regrets just became background noise, a decision she had put to rest. For deep down, in her heart of hearts, she had done the right thing in the moment. No amount of tears could turn back time.

But that was then.

And this was now.

And Tommy had come back.

He was but a broken man, a stranger wearing her lover's face. But he was home. And so much could've been different.

1919

HELEN HADN'T SEEN PATRICK since the night they made love. She could lie and say they were both busy, but that would be bullshit, and Helen was no liar, not in that sense.

The truth was, she had been right. Small Heath and its demons had a lot to say, and Helen hadn't liked what she heard. Rumours spread like wildfire. Of Tommy courting Grace, of Helen's very own mystery man being as flighty as God himself.

People liked to hear themselves talk, Helen knew that. It was common knowledge by now that she typically didn't give a fuck. But this was different.

Helen liked Patrick, but she certainly had no lasting love for him. Whatever she'd been thinking at the races was a mistake. A trick of the heart, a momentary lapse in otherwise good judgement.

But as the saying went, you reap what you sow.

She tried her best to pretend, to keep the mask in place, to play the part she had mastered since Tommy returned and the stand-off began. But Helen was so tired. She felt like she was being pulled in every direction, splintering apart at the seams.

On the day John got married, Polly and Ada knocked on Helen's door bright and early. She hadn't been expecting them. In truth, she couldn't remember the last time she'd been alone in a room with them. For just a second, she thought Judgement Day had come at last. Ada looked nervous, wringing her hands together in a praying gesture, her face pale and thin. Polly, to give her credit, seemed unbothered as she regarded Helen dressed in her night clothes for a long moment of silence.

"Polly, Ada," Helen winced as she stumbled over her words. "This is a surprise..."

"I assure you, it is for us as well," Polly muttered through pursed lips. When Helen's brows only furrowed in confusion, and Ada nudged her not-so-subtly with her elbow, she forced herself to continue, "John's getting married today, to one of the Lee girls. Tommy has graciously invited you to the ceremony if you want to come. For John."

Helen never thought she'd see the day John found someone to marry after Martha. She'd love to be there, but the thought of facing Tommy through the weight of her night with Patrick made her feel sick. Tommy Shelby had eyes and ears everywhere. If he hadn't known before, just one look at Helen would tell him everything. Still, she couldn't deny he had a point. John would want her there, so there was really no other option.

"Give me ten minutes," she mumbled, already beginning to comb her fingers through her tangled hair. The blonde strands were oily today, but a quick pinned-up braid would surely do the trick. "You can come in to wait if you like."

Ten minutes quickly became twenty, twenty lingered into thirty, and by the time Helen emerged from the bathroom, Polly had just about lost her patience. She gave the younger woman a quick once over, glancing from her signature red lips to her blue and yellow dress before gathering up her coat and purse.

"Alright, let's go," she muttered; then, under her breath, "If we sprint, we might just make the ceremony."

Helen pretended not to hear her as she hurried to lock the door. The trip itself wasn't long, but the silence in the car between Helen, Ada and Polly made it feel like a lifetime. As Polly suspected, the ceremony had already started, but the three women managed to slip into the crowd unnoticed.

Except for Tommy.

He always seemed to know when Helen was close. Even now, the heat of his eyes on her made her freeze up inside. He turned almost as soon as they arrived, just watching. An unlit cigarette sat between his lips, and his hands were tucked into his coat pockets. He seemed so... unbothered. Like Helen was no more than a stranger.

As Ada moved to stand beside him, Polly tugged Helen along so they were standing beside Arthur and Finn. Behind them were some of the Peaky boys, and standing on the outskirts were the Lees. None of the men seemed particularly pleased at the union taking place, but they kept their weapons down and waited. To the left of the Shelby lot were the Lee women dressed in the bright-coloured frocks and hats. At the front, John and his bride-to-be stood facing Johnny Dogs. The woman wore white, a lacy veil hiding her face.

"... in harmony and togetherness." As Johnny Dogs addressed the crowd, the bride pulled her veil back and a smirk almost immediately tugged at John's lips. Helen scoffed as he shared a smug look with his brothers, then caught Helen's eyes and winked when she shook her head. "... which is sanctioned and honoured by the presence and the power of these two families around us."

"Do you, John Michael Shelby, take Esme Martha Lee to be your beautiful wife? To have and to hold, through sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do."

"And do you, Esme Martha Lee, take John Michael Shelby to be your husband? To have and to hold, through sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do."

"Now, there remains one more part of the ceremony; the mingling of the two bloods..."

As John and Esme cut their palms and pressed their hands together, Helen couldn't help but look down the line to where Tommy and Ada were whispering. Ada was smiling about something, while Tommy looked vaguely amused.

Blue eyes clashed against green then, and Helen was quick to look away, but the damage had been done. Tommy's gaze burned holes into the side of her head until he eventually looked away too. Helen wondered if he was thinking the same thing, what it would have been like if they were in John and Esme's place...

Helen didn't regret, but still, she grieved.

"I now pronounce you man and wife! John, kiss the bride, will you?"