𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲:
hell of a show

Being always at home with the kids didn't always make Margaret happy, of course she loved them with her whole heart, but she used to be an active woman. Someone who was always on the move and she missed it, but she she'd convince herself to leave the house, she'd remember what the Billy Boys did to Aberama's son and she'd just have cold shivers from leaving them at home. But, today, after hearing one hundred time from Mary and Frances that they swore they'd take care of them, she went out.

Tommy had mentioned how little Finn was struggling at the betting shop, so instead of going to Tom's office or the Garrison, she made her way to the small betting shop. We could hear women and men's voices from outside as she pushed the familiar door, she still vividly remembered knocking on those doors two years ago asking for Tom. Strolling around the place, a few workers greeted her and as she was about to open the door of Finn's office, someone stopped her.

"Ma'am, he's in there with someone," he said, his brummie accent coming off strong. "Told us he'd be busy for an hour."

She scoffed, "Are you joking?" She exclaimed as he shyly shook his head. "'Right, well I hope for him that she'll be kind enough to wait for him. But, thank you for warning me."

Turning on the doorknob, she gasped as her eyes fell on Finn who had a gun pointed right under his neck, "Fucking hell," she mumbled as the woman rapidly pulled out another gun and pointed it at her. "I guess I have to take a seat."

The woman, who seemed to be Chinese, nodded her head, motioning for her to pull a chair from the corner. Maggie did as she said and she sat down next to the youngest Shelby, "Maggie, what the fuck are you doing here?"

Margaret sighed with a dry chuckle, "I hope you pay her good money, Finn," she started. "Because this is hell of show."

"You weren't supposed to be here," he muttered, his eyes glancing at her.

She ignored him and looked up at the woman, "May I smoke?" She questioned as she hummed, watching carefully as Maggie reached for the silver box, and lighted her cigarette. "Thank you," she said, once she had taken a long and needed drag.

"Who are you?"

"Margaret Shelby," she introduced herself with a grin. "You?"

"Can't tell," she answered.

"And, she's mysterious," she teased with a shook of head, she then turned her body slightly so she could see Finn better. "I left me kids today, just to have a fucking gun pointed at me. This is normally my job, Finn," she explained, blowing the smoke on his face. "Look at me."

He turned his head to face her, "What?"

"You've been doing snow, haven't you?" She muttered, noticing the way his pupils were dilated. "You're a fucking kid, Finn. Not Arthur or Tom. A kid, eh?"

"Enough," the other woman said. "You," she pointed at Finn. "Call the pub," she ordered.

Margaret leaned on the table, looking at the woman, "Are you here for business, then? Interesting tactics," she mumbled. "May you take your gun away from my fucking head, please?"

Soon, Finn let out soft short breaths as she pressed the gun to his throat again, "Arthur! Arthur!" He panted.

"Finn?" Margaret could hear Arthur's voice clear. "It's all right," he added.

"Pass me the fucking phone," Margaret muttered, putting her cigarette between her lips. "Hello?"

"Maggie?" Arthur questioned.

Shit. Thomas had completely forgotten that he had sent her to the betting shop this morning so she could check on him. He knew she had better authority on his little brother that Arthur or himself. Fucking women.

"What the fuck is going on?" He heard Finn wailing.

Margaret shushed him, "Who am I talking to now?"

"Hello, Maggie," Thomas said, grabbing the phone from Arthur's hand.

"God, hello," she replied, letting out a sigh of relief. "You should see what I am seeing right now. A fucking show, I'll tell you that," she muttered playfully.

Thomas shifted in his seat, licking his bottom lip in advance as he thought of what to say. Again, he found himself putting Margaret in danger when all he had wanted to do was protect her. He cussed at himself, clearing his throat as Chang spoke about how the moment was pure and he found himself frowning.

"Purity is not necessary. Displays are not necessary," he told him.

Margaret stared at the woman, handing the phone back to Finn as she crushed the cigarette in the ashtray before grabbing another one, and lighted it. She noticed the woman had put her gun down, and was now only pointing at Finn—who, by the way, was on the verge of crying. Good, Maggie thought, it'd teach him a lesson about who he should fuck or not. Patiently, she smoked her cigarette and tapped her foot on the floor, as her heel echoed through the room. A gunfire was shot and Finn jumped slightly from his seat, while Margaret stiffened at the sound—It had been a while since she heard it.

She watched as she grabbed her coat and hurried herself out of the room, "Have a good day," Margaret shouted as the door closed.

"Maggie, I swear I didn't know," he mumbled, still panting.

"Finn," she muttered as he continued to rant. She sighed heavily before clearing her throat. "Finn, enough!" She spoke firmly, making him stop. "Get up," she ordered, rising on her feet.

"Where are we going?"

"To see the lovely man who thought pointing a gun at your head was necessary. Now fucking get up, eh?"

Finn rose on his feet rapidly, trailing behind Margaret. The youngest Shelby always thought so highly of her, she wasn't scared of anything most of the time and he really admired that. We could see on her face how hard life had been, but yet she managed to be so beautiful and it wasn't shocking to know that his brother had fallen for her.

Pushing the doors of the Garrison, she immediately barged in the little private place and pointed a finger at the man, "You fucking—" Before she could finish, Tom's hand was pressed on her mouth. "Get off me."

"Mag," he said sternly. "We were talking with Mister Chang, here," he bowed his head towards the man.

Chang offered an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you would be in the office," he apologised. "It is nice to meet you, Margaret."

"I wish I could say the same, Chang," smirked the woman, taking a seat in front of him. "How come you've sent a woman, a beautiful one, to little Finn?"

"Business," he answered simply, rising on his feet. "Think about it," he then said to Thomas and Arthur. "Goodbye, Margaret."

As soon as he left the parlour, she eyed Thomas and sighed loudly, "Finn does snow," she told the two brothers. "I hope you knock some fucking sense into his head or I will," she muttered, lighting her cigarette.

"Arthur, go talk to him," Thomas asked as Arthur nodded. Once Arthur was out of the parlour, he turned to look at Margaret. "Are you hurt?"

"Am I hurt? I would say no," she snorted. "Amused, I guess."

"Amused? You just had a gun pointed to your fucking head and you are amused?" He frowned, taking the time to look at her.

Margaret shrugged, "Haven't felt like this in ages, actually," she told him simply. "We have to talk when you get home," she then said a little more seriously.

"Why?"

"Because I said so," she muttered.

He sat on the edge of the table and sighed, "We can talk here. I will be home late tonight," he confessed. "What's going on?"

"Tom," she warned him lowly, puffing the smoke away. "You really don't want to know here," she emphasised, looking around.

"Is it the children? Is Elliot hurt? Is Charlie sick?" He ranted and despite her state, she smiled softly. He was a great father. "Maggie—"

"I'm pregnant," she blurted out, feeling overwhelmed by all his questions. Closing her eyes, she cussed under her breath and avoided his eyes for a few minutes.

Silence.

Utter silence was all they could hear in the pub. No sign of anyone around, someone that could step in and get them out of this awkwardness. After a few minutes, Margaret allowed herself to look up at Thomas, who was still sitting on the edge of the table. He had this dead look in his eyes, one that she had never seen it before and he was awfully quiet—that, she had already seen.

Margaret rose on her feet, not excepting to say a word because at this point, she didn't except much from him. Her heels echoed through the small parlour and Thomas could hear it in on the cobblestone as she hurried herself to leave Small Heath. Perhaps it was for the better. Tommy didn't want a child, especially not now. It was the worst time for Margaret to be pregnant—for example, someone pointed a gun on her today and she was pregnant. How could it be okay?

"Polly?" Maggie's voice echoed through the house, hoping to stumble upon the aunt. Instead, she found Gina. "Fuck. Where's Polly?"

"Out," she answered. "She went in the city, I think."

"Alright," Maggie muttered, leaving the house again. Gina Gray was the last person she wanted to have a conversation with.

After a few hours, she couldn't find Polly, anywhere. Her feet were starting to ache, instead she found herself in front of Lizzie's small house. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on her door, hoping to see her so she could have someone to talk to. Margaret wanted nothing more but to run away, she wanted to hide under a blanket like a tall child and never come out of underneath it.

"Maggie?" Lizzie's voice snapped her out of her thoughts as she locked eyes with her. "What's going on?"

"I-Can we talk?" She asked hopefully, glancing around her. Lizzie hummed, stepping aside as she took a step in the house.

Somehow Margaret missed that kind of small houses on Watery Lane. Well, in reality she missed Small Heath. The country seemed so much different than here and she thought that it changed Tom. When she...they were in Small Heath, he was there for her and for Charles. He was there,

"Come on, have a seat," Lizzie spoke up, pulling out a chair for her. Grabbing the bottle of Gin, she poured herself a drink and offered one to Maggie. "No drink?"

"I can't," Margaret mumbled, her nails hitting the wooden table. "I'm pregnant, Lizzie."

"That's great, isn't it?"

Margaret bit her lower lip, closing her eyes to stop the tears from streaming down her face. Fucking hormones, "Tom doesn't want it."

Lizzie frowned, "What?"

"He doesn't want the baby, Lizzie. I fucking told him and he just didn't answer," she muttered. "So, I walked to see Polly but she wasn't there. And, I thought of you..."

Lizzie put her cigarette in the ashtray and reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze, "Mag, I will always be here for you," she said softly, caressing her cheek. "If Tommy doesn't want the baby, who fucking cares? I will help you raise it," she told her.

Margaret simply nodded her head, her lips quivering as she looked down at her feet. She knew that if she uttered one word, she would break down and she didn't want that. Crying was the last thing she wanted to do. It made her eyes hurt, red and puffy. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Lizzie and patted her back gently.

For the first time in a while, Margaret hadn't made her way back to the Arrow house. She had called Frances, wished the boys a good night and had fallen asleep on Lizzie's sofa. The only thing in her mind, Thomas Shelby.

——————

AUTHORS NOTE, not so happy... i apologise. i know some of you HATE the baby storyline but don't worry, i have good things planned for it :)

also, i am in such denial for peaky blinders. i still haven't watched the last two episodes because i don't want it to be over 😭

anyways, thank you for all the love on the book! it has been getting a lot of attention lately, so thank you to anyone who's new and also to everyone who's been here since the beginning ❤️‍🔥 me love you all very much