sabrina. peaky blinders

𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛

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𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛: 𝐵𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠

The car was silent for the biggest part of the drive back to Small Heath. Sabrina was left to her own thoughts, which was never good, given that her hot head was left to simmer. She was silently seething, going through her head, trying to think of a reason why Tommy Shelby had decided to use her as an unwilling part of his business. Not only that, but he had used John as a promise that she assumed he had never meant to keep. Did he really hate her that much?

Sabrina's mind was like an echoed chamber, her thoughts and questions bouncing against each other as they escalated dangerously. If only she'd speak.

"Are you going to say anything?" Tommy asked softly, but to Sabrina it sounded like a plead.

She almost received a smug pleasure knowing that he wanted what she hadn't given: her words. But the anger and curiosity was too large to ignore. She had to ask.

"Why'd you do it Tommy?" She urged herself to sound strong, stubborn or even angry. But anger was a new feeling- one that she hadn't mastered yet, and so she only sounded hurt.

"Sabrina." He breathed out her name in relief at finally hearing her delicate voice. But inside Tommy was beating himself; he had wished her to speak without even knowing what he'd say. Because what was there to say?

"Go on then." Sabrina pushed, more immediate than she'd hoped.

"Do you ever question your purpose?" Tommy's words were evidently forced out of his mouth, his voice cracked awkwardly. She never had expected it to come from him.

She furrowed her eyebrows at this. She wondered which way he would weave this into his made up excuse. Perhaps it wasn't an excuse at all.

"Everyone does, Tommy, one time or another."

"No." He began, becoming flustered, as if he wanted nothing more than to tell her exactly what he thought.

And that was exactly what he wanted to do: open his mind and let everything flow out, ripe for her picking. But, of course, it was never that easy. Not for Tommy Shelby. For a man who was so cunning and clever, it was a surprise that he couldn't choose his words.

Maybe there were no words that could describe how he was feeling. What use were words, when he, himself, didn't know what these feelings even were?

"I'm running on borrowed time. Everything I do has to be for a reason, whether it's right or not. Because if not, then everyone-" He paused, glancing over to her from where his eyes remained glued to the road. "Everyone will pay it back. Not just me."

"I don't understand. Don't you realise the harm in what's wrong? If you take the devil's side, it won't just be you who has to pay." She was frustrated, her cheeks flushed with heat. "I can't take it as an excuse."

"I wouldn't let you. It's not an excuse- it was never meant to be."

"I want you to understand because I know you can. I try to do good. I force myself to try. But it never works. Because I know that being good doesn't get you far when you're someone like me." Tommy said, his voice serious and deep. But as much as he wanted her to, Sabrina couldn't understand.

"Sometimes I wonder what it'd be like if I found a reason to be good. A real one, that meant something." He was calm and distant.

"Why can't you?"

"I remember what I could have without one." He added, with a whisper, "without morals."

"Well, I never did see Tommy Shelby as a one for sentiment." Sabrina chuckled out harshly. She looked at him properly, taking him in, remembering him how she always had. "It really is strange to think of you being touched by a woman, thinking of them before you do your dirty work."

"A reason doesn't have to be a woman." He stated simply.

"What else could it be?"

He paused. "Family. Pride for my home place. Any shite like that."

"You have both of those, Tommy. And you still do the things you do." Sabrina said. She realised that he wouldn't reply and so continued revealing her thoughts.It felt good to let them out. "I always thought you walked alone."

"No man walks alone from choice."

She stared at the side of his face as he continued to watch on as he drove. It wasn't what she would have imagined him saying. But it made her think of before the war, his first love, his first anything. She thought of his change, of his self made isolation. Maybe she could eventually understand.

"When I was little, I used to see you from my window, right on the top floor. You would come and go, always wearing those black suits and flat caps." She said, her eyes glossy from emotion. "Though you would have been about seventeen at the time."

"I thought you could never belong to anyone, never care for anyone."

"Oh, yes, the cold businessman, way up in his high cloud."

"Couldn't have put it better myself." The words came out of her mouth before she could stop herself. But Sabrina didn't know whether it was a joke or a swipe- and that worried her.

"Do you find it hard to believe
someone might want to blot out everything, for sentimental reasons?"

She wanted to laugh. Surely he had asked this in purpose? It sounded like the question was written for her.

"I believe it! It was for sentimental reasons that I... I went to Paris to blot it out." She didn't know why she bothered censoring her words, everyone knew she had been madly in love with John since she was seven.

"Maybe you should go to Paris." She breathed out, imaging herself back their now, watching the opera in a dress sent from Mr Babineaux, a deep, red wine in her hand.

"Oh, I've been to Paris. For a whole 35 minutes." He glanced over to her, as he stopped the car. "In the war."

"I won't ask for your acceptance Sabrina. But I ask that you try to forgive me."

A silence fell over them once more and Sabrina sighed.

"It's funny." She said, as she opened the door, climbing out of the car. "I never did get my dance with John."

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