CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
HEAVEN IS HERE

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"EXCUSE ME," THE WORDS sounded panicked even to her own ears. She didn't look back once she handed James over to Patrick, muttering something about 'powdering her nose' in a rush of words she prayed made some sort of sense strung together.

How could she be so pathetic? Powdering her nose? Helen hadn't done such a thing her whole life, and both Tommy and Patrick knew that. But Helen was suffocating. There was no air. No room for her. Nothing would've ever prepared her for this. No amount of time or resentment. In those early days, the days that haunted her now more than ever, she used to ruminate over seeing Tommy again. He and Patrick were the angel and devil on each shoulder. At one point, she knew word-for-word what she would say to him if she happened to stumble across him in London.

Now, her head was a hollowed-out carcass. Those words were forgotten. Like a fallen tree in a never-ending forest, the rupture of her mind happened quick and she was the only witness. Tommy's stare found her even in the quiet confines of his guest bathroom. She glowered at her reflection -- pale face, red lips -- and swore her skin prickled from the heat of it. Even then.

Time; the healer of wounds and the killer of Gods and mortals both.

Helen inhaled sharply. Let her eyes close. Slowly, she pushed the air out of her lungs in one steady exhale, only for the door to slam open like a gunshot tearing through the silence. Helen flinched, her sigh quickly becoming an incredulous scoff when she recognised Patrick. He took up most of the doorway, his shoulders broad and unforgiving as he grasped the wooden archway with iron fists.

"Where's James?" she blurted, her suspicions creeping up on her. "Fuck, Patrick. Tell me you didn't leave our son with them!"

Patrick's anger was something Helen rarely experienced. She was never on the receiving end, not like this. They argued and ignored each other, sure, but she never feared the extent he would go to get through to her. In an instant, he was bearing down on her, voice low and steely. Helen backed up until her hip bones jutted against the marble counter.

"Grace is family, Helen," Patrick snapped. He was frustrated, one hand gripping her jaw while the other steadied himself against the basin. His touch was light but firm, reminding her that she'd lost herself, and there he was waiting for her to come back to him. Helen feared that there was no return. In just one day, her life had come crumbling down again, both body and soul. Patrick would always be out of her reach. "You know, this is why I never told you. I knew you wouldn't understand, that you'd go back to that man if there was even the slightest chance you could both be happy together. Everyone else? Me, Grace, even James? We are just pawns in your game. Do you realise how that makes me feel?"

Helen sighed. When she sank into his touch, it was out of defeat. Still, his fingers grazed her cheek with more affection than she could bear. Mascara streaked down her skin as the first tear dripped to her chin. "I'm sorry."

Her baby -- their baby -- seemed to sense her pain. They kicked against her stomach, a reminder that they were there. That Helen had been through this before. She was a mother, and mother's put their children first. She would. But Patrick deserved more than a lie.

"I'm sorry."

"You found me for convenience," he murmured after a heavy, prolonged pause. He released her face but stayed close, just enough that Helen could feel his breath, hazy with smoke and whiskey, on her face. "I know that."

"It's not that simple," she protested.

But Patrick's smile was one of disbelief. "I know. And I love you anyway." She was crying now, the tears falling even as she meticulously dabbed them away with a tissue. Mascara stained the paper black, but her face was clear. No one would know what was hidden inside her. The rot and the decay. It crept ever closer to her baby, even as she silenced her cries with a hand pressed to her mouth. "Surely you love me, too. Surely, I can make you happy enough that seeing them together won't break you."

"It's not about you."

Patrick rested his head on her shoulder. She had her back to him now, but she could see every movement in the gilded mirror. He, too, was tired but in a physical sense. He leaned his weight against her, longing for rest, and Helen should've been able to hold it for him. To share the agony of being her husband.

"I love you," he repeated in a whisper.

Say it back, his soft sigh seemed to plead with her. Lie to me. Prove what I already know.

"I should check on James," she said instead.

Patrick didn't try to stop her. When Helen reached the door, she caught one last glimpse of him leaning over the sink now. Eyes open and staring listlessly. She closed the door before he could catch her gaze, before she could taint him by returning to his side just like that sigh had begged. Helen had done enough. She wouldn't lie to him, for once, in the way he wanted.

The hallway was blissfully empty until it wasn't. In many ways, Grace Shelby was like a bloodhound. The second Helen found herself alone in the other woman's house, Grace sought her out eagle-eyed but smiling that frustratingly placid smile of hers. Showing Helen she would always have the upper hand. So long as she lived and breathed.

"Where's my son?" Helen was beginning to sound like a broken record. Her eyes searched for Tommy by instinct, but the bride had somehow escaped from her husband's side. Not even the guests had noticed her absence. Helen could still hear the music echoing below, calling them down to Hell.

"I thought he might like a rest. Poor boy could barely keep his eyes open. Too much excitement, I imagine," came Grace's smooth reply. Helen arched an eyebrow at her, already observing the winding hallway as she wondered which room her son was hidden in. "I had Mary, our housekeeper, bring him a meal before he slept. There's a lounge in Charlie's room so I took him there. Charlie is--"

"Your son," Helen said. "So I've heard."

Slowly, Grace nodded. She seemed determined to fill the silence, even as Helen continues to stare at her, face devoid of emotion. "Mary will make sure he is safe. Tommy wouldn't have hired her to care for us if she couldn't be trusted."

"No," she murmured. "Tommy certainly doesn't do things in half measures."

Grace is family, Helen, Patrick's words echoed until she couldn't ignore them anymore. Somehow, against the maternal instincts that screamed for her to remain distrustful, to act first and think later, Helen had to trust this woman. This woman who knew only how to take. How to scheme and how to maim. She had stolen the remnants of Tommy's heart when Helen failed to love them the way he needed. She was a mother too, but Helen knew what mothers could be like. James existed in two different worlds for her, blurring the lines of her control. Trust Grace, but pay with her sanity.

"We appreciate you being here, Tommy and I," she made a point to unite them, in word and in memory. Tommy and Grace. Grace and Tommy. There could not be one without the other, Helen. In case you somehow manage to forget. "I haven't seen Patrick in so long. We were so close growing up."

"He speaks of you often," Helen whispered through the sour sting of bitterness on her tongue.

Grace's expression was genuinely fond. "I hope you plan to stay for a while. I've missed him."

Helen shrugged. "That's up to him."

"Maybe, but we women have our ways, do we not?" Helen wasn't sure what she was trying to achieve. Grace spoke like they were the closest of friends. Sisters in everything but name. Helen's skin crawled as she laughed, hoping this would be answer enough. Fortunately, the music downstairs dimmed and Grace turned her attention to the staircase. "We should return to the festivities. Tommy would be looking for me by now."

She was right. When the two women descended the stairs together, Tommy's gaze passed over Helen only briefly before settling on his wife. He offered her his arm, receiving a few suggestive comments from the nearby Peaky boys who witnessed him kiss her cheek. He murmured something in her ear that sounded awfully like 'what did she say to you, eh?' while Helen hung back just in time for Patrick to follow her down the stairs. Instinctively, he placed a hand on her lower back. She knew they wouldn't speak of what happened upstairs. For just a second, she was grateful. Patrick could make for a good friend when she let go of her pretences.

"I don't know about you, Nel," he spared her a grin and a wink. "But this night is getting boring."

"Oh?" she arched an eyebrow at him. "Don't let the bride and groom hear you say that."

"I'm sure Grace would forgive me for it," he said, eyeing the prudish red coats that stuck out amongst Tommy's family. "James is being taken care of?"

"He's with a maid and Charlie," she nodded.

"Then I think," he smirked. "We should get drunk."

Helen huffed out a laugh, digging her heels in when he tried to usher her towards the crowd. "Are you forgetting something, Patrick?"

"Right," he blinked down at her stomach. Perhaps she should've questioned his sudden change in mood, but it wasn't unlike him to don a mask of his own. The selfish part of her relished in some kind of normalcy. "Then I can get drunk enough for the two of us."

"If you like," she shrugged, taking his hand as he gestured to the dining room.

Slowly, the guests were beginning to gather around one long table. Tommy was drawing out a seat for Grace at the head of the table when Patrick and Helen appeared. Instinctively, Patrick did the same for her, and when he sat down beside her, his hand came to rest on her stomach. A father's pride, a husband's claim.

True to his word, Patrick tucked into the drinks to get him through the meal. Helen mostly tuned it out, making idle chatter with one of the Lee girls she vaguely recognised from John and Esme's wedding. It wasn't until the speeches that she began to steal sips of Patrick's drink. Arthur's was almost unbearable. She was glad for the dancing when the time came.

"I want to dance," Patrick grinned down at her, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. "Dance with me, Nel."

She let him drag her out once Tommy and Grace were finished with their first dance. The music picked up in tempo, but Patrick held her close and swayed, some of the blood draining from his face. Carefully, she reached for his jaw, angling his head down so his dazed eyes met hers as best as they could. A shiver of unease picked its way down Helen's spine.

"Your nose is bleeding," she murmured, gazing at the rivulet of crimson that dripped down to the curve of his lip. "Patrick..."

Suddenly, he pulled away from her, vaguely frantic as he reached into his pocket for his handkerchief. He coughed once into the material while Helen fussed over him, her hands tracing the hard lines of his back as she tried to soothe the coughs.

"What's happening?" she persisted. "Are you unwell? Do you want to sit down?"

Patrick shook his head. "I'm fine. Not as young as I used to be. It seems I can no longer drink my weight in alcohol."

Helen pursed her lips. "And that's a real tragedy."

She was prepared to let it go (for now) when Patrick tucked his handkerchief away and her eyes instinctively followed the gesture. She froze, momentarily forgetting how to breathe as she stared.

There was blood on his handkerchief. Bright red blood. It came from the depths of Patrick's lungs, and Helen was no fool. She was right. Something was wrong with her husband.

All of a sudden, the warmth of his body seemed fleeting. She looked up into his face, into the solemn and knowing eyes she'd ignored in her own state of disarray.

"Patrick..."

Helen didn't love him. Both of them knew that. But part of her heart ached as realisation dawned on them both. She wouldn't always have him. Helen was about to lose him far sooner than she'd ever expected.

But while Helen panicked, Patrick smiled. He drew her in closer, a silent plea for one last dance. Who was Helen to deny him that.

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A/N: Okay, so the events with Patrick at the end weren't meant to happen for a while, but then I realised Grace dies in the next episode and certain events need to happen before she does. So here it is! Let me know what you think <3