Gun Metal And Daisies (Thomas Shelby)- Chapter 5

Gun Metal and Daisies (Thomas Shelby)- Chapter 5

Intrigue and like are two very different things

Masterlist

No one expects an angel to set the world on fire.

Maybe it was the way she looked him in the eye and didn't back down. Maybe it was the way she smiled at him that made him think it was more addictive than all the whiskey in the world. Or maybe it was the way she rocked from side to side as she stood there, almost like she was dancing in the wind.

Whatever it was, he decided that he liked it. It maybe being her or just the air around her, but he liked it.

See intrigue is a funny thing to feel. It's stepping onto thick ice and expecting to fall through, and maybe you might. But oh, the things you find under the water.

So when she asked him if she could help with anything, Thomas quicker than a fiddle told a lie like it was his mother tongue.

"Do you know where I can find some bread?" Of course he knew, but she didn't need to know that.

A smile spread on her face, "I know just the place! If you would follow me!"

She led the way with a bounce in her step, the ribbons in her hair flowing out behind her, her pumps tapping against the floor like the snapping of fingers in a jazz club. Her curls sitting perfectly on her back.

Ahem. But he didn't notice any of that, no...

She flitted over to a stall that sat outside of the bakery, she looked back at the rude man.

His eyes were glancing around the streets, noticing that the people around the market had started to disperse, family's now going to sit down and eat whatever evening meals they could.

After a minute of watching the world go by, the last person to step out was Ms. P, the lady who owned the bakery.

"Hello Deary, I've just finished up in there so it's all ready for when you ne- oh!" The cheery smile on Ms. P's face vanished when she caught sight of the man standing opposite Dorothy,

"I uh- well i best be heading off now. See you on Monday, love!" The woman abruptly marched off.

Dorothy, seemingly clueless to the woman's distress shouted after her, "goodbye Ms. P, say hi to Bella for me!" Her cheerful smile staying on her face as she turned back to the rude man.

She still didn't like him, but that didn't mean she should be unkind.

"I'm afraid nothing I can sell you is fresh, but it's still good! I promise!" She leant on the stand as he examined the items in front of him. He wasn't really looking, he was actually trying to think of a conversation starter.

"What have you got against houses in the woods?" She minded his tone to be rather rude. The smile on her face faltering a bit.

She shrugged, "I just think that those kind of structures don't belong in the last patch of Mother Nature near us. This city is smog and brick, the woodlands is the only place you can breath and not blacken your lungs."

He nodded his head. Not agreeing with her, just accepting the answer.

Dorothy clapped her hands, "But never mind that, what tickles your fancy here?" She pointed to the display.

Before Thomas could speak, he was interrupted by a rain drop falling on his nose, then another in his hair, then on the ground in front of him. And soon enough, the sky was chucking it down.

"Oh crumbs!" She flailed her arms frantically as if she could stop the rain with sheer will power.

She grabbed as many of the produce she could off the stall and rushed into action, chucking them inside on the nearest counter top.

It was only the second time that she came back that Thomas even thought of helping.

He, having much larger hands and arms, picked up the remaining baked goods before they could get soggy.

When he entered the bakery, he instantly was invaded with the smell of fresh bread. The warmth surrounding his body completely from the furnace.

She sighed when he dumped the remaining items on the table; inspecting the loafs and the sweets, she decided they were still fit to sell and not too soggy.

"You still want the bread?" She laughed quietly.

"Maybe not" he found himself with a small smile on his face.

The silence they fell into was nice, it was comforting in a sense.

He slid into a chair off to the side that they kept for waiting customers.

"Still waiting for more customers?" He raised a brow.

She shook her head no.

"So what are you waiting for?" He inquired.

"Just a few friends need to pop by before I get going on the sweets."

"You've got company coming? Should I leave?" The way that Thomas was acting right now was very out of character. He never waited around this long with one person; he never considered anyone else's feelings that weren't family, least of all a stranger.

Before anymore conversation could ensue, the bell on the front door of the bakery chimed.

The pitter-patter of a few pairs of small feet filled the air as a group of small children ran in.

They were dressed in uncomfortable fabrics, and tattered trousers and skirts. One of the slightly older kids was carrying a baby or toddler that was wearing what looked to be a potato sack.

Thomas was even more confused. He didn't like being confused. He needed to know everything and right now, he had nothing.

Assuming they were her children, his curiosity stemmed out. He was even more confused when they all shouted choruses of 'evenin' Miss!' And 'it's yucky out there Miss Dotty-Anne!'

She only smiled at their greetings and gestured to the table next to her that had piles of produce and baked goods on them, "you kids must be starving! You're lucky that today was slow, I still have some Pookies left!"

Pookies? The fuck were they? Who are these children? Why is she giving them food?

Thomas' head was spinning.

The kids immediately dove for the table, she smiled at their antics and told them to slow down.

She only seemed to snap out of her dazed smile when she heard shuffling on the other side of the room.

She looked over the rude man and he was pulling a cigarette out.

"Oi! No smoking in the bakery! Ms. P would kill me if she found out!"

Her abrupt statement stopped the children's feasting, they turned their heads to the man in the corner, who they did not notice before.

They gasped when they saw who it was.

"You're- you're" one of the children started, stammering in fear.

"You're not smoking in this building is what you are." Dorothy squinted at him, he sighed and put the cigarette away, deciding best not to argue.

She turned back to the children who were trembling in fear. 'Poor kids. They were terrified of any men they came into contact with, fearing they are like their fathers.' She sighed at the thought.

"Now don't you worry about him." She smiled. "By the looks of it, you've filled yourselves up, I'll go get a bag for you all so you can have something for the next few days."

She rushed out of the room, leaving the kids with the Shelby man.

The children stood stock still, not moving an inch. They weren't scared of men, they were scared of him. Everyone knew the Shelbys, and he was just sitting there, in Miss Dorothy's bakery - the most sweetest woman in Birmingham's bakery.

The Shelby man simply put his fingers to his lips and winked at the kids, "don't tell her I already smoked one" he whispered.

The silence was tense until one of the younger kids burst into a fit of giggles, quickly followed by the rest.

When Dorothy returned with a brown paper bag in hand, she too giggled herself. Not knowing what they were laughing at, but she was happy that they were happy.

"What's so funny? Huh?" She playfully put her hands on her hips, eyebrow raised at the kids in front of her.

"Oh no, nothing at all, ignore them" the low voice of the rude man came from the corner.

She simply shook her head and smiled before taking the left overs and shovelling them into the bag. She put the bag in one of the kids hands who hugged it to their chest like a lifeline.

Dorothy gasped and put a finger up, tapping herself on the head, "I almost forgot!"

She rushed out of the room again, returning with a glass full of warm milk.

She took the baby in the sack that was far too big for its body and cradled it in her arms, she smiled sheepishly at the older children, "I don't have a bottle, but this is the best I can do. Tammy needs to eat and I'll be damned if she doesn't eat today." The kids all crowded around her as she tried her best to feed the baby with a glass, most of it spilling around the baby's mouth but after a while it seemed the baby understood and started accepting the milk.

The gesture was beautiful, it was truly heartwarming to anyone who could see it. Thomas found himself gaping at the woman in front of him.

He was so confused.

After a few minutes she handed the baby back the the eldest child and she sent them on their way, "be careful now! Find somewhere warm and stay safe, I'll see you next week! Keep Tammy safe!" She waves as the children toddled out of the door.

The room was silent as she smiled at the fleeing children in the rain.

"What the fuck just happened?"

——

I hope you've enjoyed the chapters I've released so far! Soon we can start delving into the larger plot lines other than Tommy pining over Dorothy, but you didn't hear that from me.

Thanks for the love

Feedback and comments are wanted.

See ya next time!

I was thinking that polly grey had 2 children taken from her. After finding micheal she finds out that her daughter (micheals older sister) is still alive and in birmingham, but little does she know that she wants nothing to do with her mother. (tragic, romance, strong female character) IDK but I really love your writing and looking forward to you next book!

Thanks, I can’t wait to write the next book as well!

I LOVE this request, you can read it here

😁

Gun metal and daisies (Thomas Shelby)

Masterlist

An introduction

Dorothy Monroe

The stars would be so proud to know their atoms created someone like you.

Photo for Dorothy can be found on other places where I post this story. The woman I used didn’t want her photo on tumblr. Thanks for understanding.

Thomas Shelby

Unfeeling and bloodless, you are like a God

Polly Gray

She wears strength and darkness equally well, the girl has always been half-goddess's half-hell.

John Shelby

You chug a fifth of alcohol and everybody is too busy cheering to wonder how empty you must have been to do it.

Arthur Shelby

They broke the wrong parts of me.

They broke my wings but forgot I had claws.

Ada Shelby

We are the granddaughters of all the witches they couldn't burn.

Gun Metal and Daisies (Thomas Shelby)- Chapter 12 pt.1

“The last time we were here, you held a gun to my face.”

Masterlist

I will not have you without the darkness that hides within you.

I will not let you have me without the madness that makes me.

If our demons cannot dance, neither can we.

It was safe to say that Thomas couldn't get Bonny out of his mind.

Thomas genuinely thought that when he left the bakery that the curly haired girl would leave his mind. He didn't even know her name, but he still couldn't get her out of his head.

But unfortunately for him, the fast companionship had come to an end.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't blame himself, and for the first time in a long, long time: guilt ate away at him.

The guilt for so many things to do with her that he could not name.

It was only a day later when his Aunt Polly noticed.

She stormed into his office and sat down in the chair opposite him. She lit a cigarette before she started speaking, Thomas did not greet her, he only stared solemnly.

"So which girl have you knocked up now?" Polly asked nonchalantly.

Thomas didn't honestly know how to respond to that.

She continued, "No. there's no pregnant girl... what shitty business have you landed in now? We only just got rid of the guns, don't tell me you've fucked something else up."

Thomas sighed and lit his own cigarette, "nothing of the sort, Pol. There's nothing to get in a flap about."

Polly scoffed, "well there clearly is, you've missed three meetings today and you're behind on almost all of your LEGAL paperwork. We can't conduct a legal business if you're lacking. Whatever it is, sort it out."

And so she stomped out, leaving Thomas with his thoughts. Well, more memories if anything.

Thomas thought of her hands and the way they fitted into his. He thought of the curve of her lips when she smiled, how her cheeks never seemed to grow tired of her joy. He thought of the way she became a peaceful record for him to sit next to and get lost in the sound of which.

He thought of how she all too quickly decided that they were friends and declared her name for him when she saw him in the streets. He thought of how different she was to him.

He thought of the way she smiled and he didn't, unless he was with her. He thought of the way she skipped and he didn't. He thought of the way she shone gentleness and kindness like it was her own form of light and he exerted cold glares and harsh words.

He thought of how much he needed her.

One last time. He'd see her one last time.

He'd look her dead in the eyes and examine the colour, which he'd yet to inspect. He'd look at her smile and burn it into the back of his eyes so it was there whenever he blinked. He would try and make her laugh one last time, just so he could hear it at night when the picks started hammering.

And lastly he'd remember how she made him feel. He didn't know how he felt.

But it was pleasant, and it was nice.

Thomas considered when to go. In their conversation last week, he remembered how she gave the food to the homeless children because it was clear out day, and nothing could go to waste.

So it was tonight that he'd visit. He'd go after the time the children stopped by, and just before she was about to leave, he'd go see her.

One last time.

——

Thomas stayed late, doing the paperwork that he was behind on, he filed them and noted the time. His eyes widened a bit when he realised he was later than he'd like to have been.

Quickly gathering his things, he made his way to the bakery at a steady march.

Arriving there, he noted that no lights were on and the door was locked.

He'd missed her.

Thomas kicked the stones in his path, his frustration seeping through his cold exterior as he stomped away.

He kept marching down the streets, no idea where he was going, just walking his anger off.

Thomas stopped short when he saw a weird lump in the middle of the street.

He manoeuvred around the strange rock mound in the street and for a closer look.

The rock moved slightly, up and down, up and down.

"It's just a drunk." Thomas thought.

If it wasn't for the small curls peaking out under the fabric, he would have kept walking.

Thomas crouched down next to the lump to examine the seemingly drunk girl.

Not wanting to startle the person in case they're a violent drunk, he carefully lifted the coat off the person to get a better look at them.

What shocked Thomas most wasn't the fact that he found a girl lying lifeless in the streets, no. What shocked him the most was that the girl who was on the floor, was his Bonny.

Thomas' mind instantly went into panic mode.

She looked as if she fell or she was thrown, she had her legs tucked under her and her body was leaning forward in a position Thomas couldn't imagine was comfortable.

Bonny didn't drink, so he panicked even more when he could smell small traces of alcohol on her.

She smelled of Brandy. The kind she baked with. He sighed in relief.

He turned her over so she was lying on her back, Thomas was now kneeling beside her.

He scanned over her body and noted that nothing was ripped or out of place, she only had a few scratches on her cheek from where she probably fell.

Thomas' head managed to clear for just a moment to get his head on straight.

He tapped the side of her face, trying to get her to wake up. She didn't respond.

Breathing. He could definitely see she was breathing, though it was shallow.

He tried tapping her face a bit harder this time, muttering her name a bit, "Bonny? Bonny? C'mon, wake up love." Thomas was in a state of panic, he just needed her to wake up.

He examined her body once more. Maybe he'd missed something.

After taking a good look at her - something he wished he'd be able to do under better circumstances - he noticed her body, her small, frail, body. He'd never noticed how sickly she looked with all her flowing dresses and thick coats. He never looked at her high set cheekbones and saw how sunken they were. She was thin to the bone.

After getting no where with his guesses, he quickly realised he had to get her off the streets.

Drunk men would start wandering the streets at this hour and seeing a young woman passed out in the middle of the street could never end well for her.

Thomas considered all of his options, though, he didn't have many.

His house? No, he left the keys in the Betting Shop, which was locked by Scudboat.

The small family home? No, they would ask questions that he didn't want to answer, she was scared enough of them as is.

Her house? No, he didn't even know where she lived.

...

The safe house?

Perfect.

Thomas scooped her up in his arms and went on his way.

——

Walking across the field, Thomas took another good look at her.

She was shaking in his arms, it wasn't THAT cold, but he figured that a girl as small and frail as her, wouldn't find it hard to get cold.

Maybe she was hungry, or just purely exhausted.

He remembered that from when he was a boy. Shaking with hunger. Those cold winter days when Polly thought he was freezing to death and kept wrapping him up, but actually he was just so fucking hungry that all his body could do was shake.

But not anymore. No.

Now, he provided for his family, ever since he got the legal betting licence, more money had started to appear. He could keep his family warm with fires and warm winter coats. He could feed every mouth at the table and still have more. He could afford nice clothing, and whiskey, and cigarettes to his hearts content.

When Thomas reached the Safe house, he pulled out the key that he always kept snapped into the grooves of his pocket watch.

It was a handy mechanism that his Uncle Charlie had presented to him.

So now whenever he twisted the handles on the pocket watch, the key would spring up.

Silently thanking Charlie as he adjusted his grip on the sickly pale girl in his arms, he fumbled around with the watch and put the key in.

——

Nothing had changed since the last time he'd been there.

Still the same walls and dark oak rafts that bordered the ceiling.

Thomas wandered up the stairs, kicking the door closed behind him, he got to the top of the landing and quickly realised that he had no idea where anything was.

Scuttling quickly down the hallway, Thomas peeked into each room;

"No... bathroom... liquor room - handy, but currently useless... bedroom."

Thomas rushed over to the bed and gently lay Bonny down. He stared at her for only a second more before he snapped out of it and got back to work.

He made quick work of taking off her shoes and getting her under the covers of the bed. He stroked her forehead as a last ditch attempt to work out what was wrong. She had no fever, but she was deathly cold.

Once again checking her breathing and her pulse, he crouched down and rested his head on the side of the bed. Thanking whatever he could that she was alive.

He made his way over to the mantle piece and lit the fire, hoping to get some warmth into this empty house.

"She can't have eaten yet." Thomas thought to himself. Possibly being the only coherent and smart thought he'd had since he'd found her.

He set for a path down the stairs, quickly looking back at her one last time before closing the door, trying to keep the warmth in.

He filtered through the cupboards and found a tin of beans and bread that had surprisingly not gone off yet. It must have been the cold keeping it from going off.

He heated up the beans and started boiling some water.

He poured the beans on the toast that he'd put above the stove, and filtered the tea through the strainer.

Putting all this on a slightly bent tray, he rushed back up the stairs to her room, it was only a bit warmer then.

He placed the tray on the bedside table, pulled up a chair and waited at her bedside.

He once again tried tapping the side of her face to see if she'd wake up, but she didn't react.

Thomas didn't know what to do. He had no idea what was wrong with her, he could only guess but he didn't want to try anything in fear of it backfiring.

"C'mon Bonny, I need you to work with me here."

——

I’m splitting this chapter into two parts, so here is the first part.

Thanks for the love.

Feedback and comments are wanted.

See ya next time!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN.

HELLO!

If anyone want to send in a request for a head cannon or a One Shot or imagine or whatever you like; then I’m happy to oblige. I’m not big on writing smuts or lemons, but everything else should be okay! Please don’t be shy, I love writing and would love to write other characters other than my beloved Dorothy Monroe!

Thanks! See ya next time!