Chapter Text
He comes home to find Polly waiting for him, not just Polly and Arthur, but Jack Smith, one of the few people to make it out of Small Heath.
“If this is regarding the protection of your warehouses, Jack, I suggest we talk it tomorrow at the Pub.” Tommy said hanging his hat and coat by the door.
“Sit, Tom.” Polly orders him and he obeys. Only person he allows to order him around. “Jack has a business proposal he wishes to make, a very lucrative one that could help the family.”
Jack was son of two settled gypsies with incredible luck. Jack’s father had taken his narrowboat, the Marigold, down to London and met with none other than the Irishman and his Mexican wife who would change his life for the better, Mr. And Mrs. Patrick Riley.
Alan Smith had then been given an exclusive contract with Mr. and Mrs. Riley to deliver their Mexican limes to the Monserrat Company here in Birmingham. Before the year was up, they had bought 71 Watery Lane and hired their relations as business expanded.
Eventually Harry and his younger brother, Jack, had traded the narrowboats for steamships and the Riley and Arambula Shipping company became the Smith, Riley and Arambula Company.
If a Smith knocked on your door it was considered bad luck not to answer it.
“As you have no doubt heard, my brother Henry, his wife Isabel, and three of their children died almost three years ago. Only their youngest, a girl about the same age as Ada, survived the revolution and has become their sole inheritor.
She used to live in Mexico City once her mother’s family was able to ransom her back to them and now I am told, was smuggled out of the country because the current President believes her to be a threat.”
Thomas knows what he will ask for, protection. The Rileys were the equivalent of peers in their country, a country that’s gone through more presidents in the past decade than it had in thirty years.
“She’s a girl of twenty-three, what sort of damage could she do?” he asked wondering what was so serious the girl had to be taken out of the country.
“Eva and her brothers fought for the rebels, and then kept fighting even after the current president was instated. I was told she had given up on the cause, but they have evidence she was spying on President Carranza for the past two years.” He sighed and drank his whiskey. “She was supposed to join other exiled members of her family in New York, but the Americans refuse to grant her asylum for somethings she did when she was fighting with the rebels.”
“We have contacts in Belfast, Jack, they can keep her safe. Even if she decided to join the IRA.” Thomas said, uninterested and hoping this was the end of it.
Polly loses her patience and tells him how it is. “The Crown is willing to shelter her here and allow her to keep trade between their countries if she marries an Englishman. Comes with a dowry of a fifty thousand pounds which has been gathering interest since 1910. Jack reckons it might be up to one hundred thousand now that Harry’s accounts have been merged with it.”
Polly slides a photograph of the girl in question.
She’s a beauty, dark haired, dark eyed like her mother. Looks like Isabel Riley, he thinks, remembering the woman who stepped off the Marigold when he was ten years old.
It’s the eyes that make him want to say no. All knowing gaze of a true witch. Hers show no malice, as if searching his soul for goodness he doubts exists.
“John needs a wife to take care of his children, good with money and will have a betting license in a few months.” Tom suggested. “If she can’t be bothered with children that aren’t hers, there’s Arthur.”
Arthur shakes his head. “its got to be you, Tom. Her people know I’m the leader of a gang.” His brother lies. There had to be a reason Arthur refused the girl.
“What’s wrong with her? Simple like Curly, mute or insane?” Thomas asked no longer bothering to disguise his annoyance.
“If you don’t remember, I won’t hold it against you, boys.” Harry takes a file with a list of investments waiting for him in the city. They had dates, dates that were in the future months.
“Eva has the second sight, like Isabel did. Like Mrs. Riley still does. Your brother refuses to marry a witch and doesn’t want John’s children under the same roof as her.” Jack voiced his displeasure at the prejudice held against his only niece.
Arthur had been relieved when Polly lost her sight. Believed it was their mother’s sight that got her to step into the canal and leave them all behind.
He could make it work, have them out of Small Heath by the end of the year, oust Kimber and expand to London. Thomas knew the Rileys had the Solomons in their payroll and had enough connections to take him further than he thought possible.
The girl from Chinatown would be out of work, once word spread out that the Peaky Blinders had their own witch everyone would flock at them for a bit of luck. Especially if it becomes known she’s a Smith.
“I’ll marry the girl, give me a month to woo her. If I find something off about her I’m calling off the wedding.” The last part is said in jest, but Jack narrows his eyes.
“She’ll arrive in the second week of February,I suggest you marry her in April 4th, its on a Friday and gives us enough time to prepare for it.” Polly advises, more like orders him. She was already planning for the wedding, why else would Ada have a magazine with wedding dresses amongst her books?
Tommy spits on his hand and Jack dies the same, “We have a deal then.”
The engagement is kept a secret. A secret only Finn doesn’t know and one that remains a secret until Arthur gets drunk at the Garrison and tells the whole of Small Heath his brother is marrying a witch who can see the future. Coming on a boat from New York.
Ada gets a letter from her soon to be sister-in-law and he gets a telegram from some island her ship had stopped in. He gets his proof she’s a witch with the words: Monogham Boy will win.
“Poor girl, she’ll be the goose that lays the golden eggs.” Ada shook her head and helped him finish for the day. They had needed all hands on deck after he let it slip Miss. Smith had said his horse would win.
“Aye, but she gets to live and run her company through me. We’ll buy a house in the country, and some houses in respectable neighborhoods.” Tommy closed the doors between the shop and the house. “I get a month to see if it’s all going to be worth it.”
“And if she hates you?” Ada asks the question he has been asking himself.
She’s dressed to the nines in a warm black clothing, black hat tipped to the side with her dark hair pinned underneath it.
She has freckles and a pretty smile, Eva Smith’s eyes are worse in person. Warm brown eyes that know things they shouldn’t, but don’t hold it against him.
Eva Smith is beautiful, with an hourglass figure that will make monogamy easy for him. She came with nearly one hundred thousand pounds and a promise of more if he lets her guide him into the world of legitimate business.
Fidelity seems like a very low price to pay for it all, he thinks.
From her letter to Ada and what Jack has told him, he won’t have a difficult time liking her. Witty, sharp and practical.
The Marigold carries the rest of her belongings and he can feel the stares of people who want to know the mysterious Smith girl engaged to him.
“I hope you aren’t disappointed in me, Mr. Shelby.” She says, voice clear and pleasant. There is a lilt to it that makes people want to hear it again.
“I think no man could ever be disappointed with a lady like you, Miss Smith.” He helps her off the boat, and she takes his hand even if getting off the boat didn’t seem like a difficulty for her.
“Call me Eva.” Her smiles are shy, but there is a thing about her that tells him it won’t belong before he sees the real her. “Miss Smith feels like I’m back in that gilded hell.”
Gilded Hell, never did he think luxury could be considered hell.
“Then call me, Tommy, you’ll be Mrs. Shelby in five weeks anyways.” He gives he a smile. This will be easy, he tells himself, Eva was pleasing to the eye, educated and didn’t appear to be a cunt.
Eva has seen him, has seen their life together and her old and wrinkled as she lights the Vardo his dead body is in.
But still, meeting him is quite something.
He is about an inch taller, looked more alive than he did in his photograph and Eva thinks his piercing blue eyes would look wonderful in an oil painting.
Thomas commands more authority than most Heads of State she’s met. Reminds her of Pancho Villa who with his person had won over many people and the many women in his harem.
Her eyes glaze over and sees him in some sort of legislative chamber, Thomas Shelby MP.
Yes, Jack had been right about him.
Eva almost trips on thin air and he steadies her.
“Sorry, I should warn you that I can’t always control my visions. They come as they please.” Eva wonders when would it be socially acceptable to explain her prophetic night terrors.
“My aunt ,Polly Gray, used to have the Sight. It won’t bother me.” He assures her as they walk to his motorcar.
“You say this now, but you’ll be regretting it when the night terrors show up. I can’t promise I won’t scream.” There is no nervousness, she talks to him like he’s an old friend. Like she knows him.
She really doesn’t, but this is the man she’ll love for the rest of her life. Familiarity is encouraged.
“I have mine, you help me get through mine, I’ll help you with yours.” He proposed and she finds herself agreeing to it.
“It’s a deal then, Tommy.” They don’t shake on it, she’d die before ruining her kid leather gloves with spit.
He opens the car door like a gentleman and Eva decides Thomas Shelby was worth signing over half her fortune.