C1 - Bria is Back

an: pronunciation - bree-ah

You'll marry that boy one day. Mum had told me once, she was always cheeky that way. A gypsy fortune teller, she really had the magical abilities to do quite fascinating things but this one she was wrong about.

"You messed this one up mum." I said under my breath. I wore a pale pink dress, one that fell to my knees. It was loose, with a pair of mums black kitten heels. We were among the flapper era and I was feeling frisky. My hair fell in waves, I tried to tame it but failed tremendously.

I had my hands in front of me, as Thomas stood there at the altar looking so handsome and nervously excited. I mean seriously, that look on his face was priceless. Like he wanted to crawl out of his only to hide away somehow. The man keeps on looking towards the other side of the room, where he family is and look at them in such fear. It's so damn adorable.

"He's nervous," I chew down on my bottom lip.

My father leans in. "He's marrying a good girl. He's best off to be nervous. Do you see the cavalry, Jesus, he's in for a storm if he ruins this."

I chuckle, looking down at dad. He's been subjected to sitting down due to the pain in his knees. He looked dapper, in a navy suit and suspenders. Poor thing refused to stay home, if there was one thing my father loved, it was a good wedding.

We had agreed to stay out for two hours, that was his limit before we went back home. He stays home most of the day, and yet he knows everything about everyone Small Heath. It fascinates me.

"He looks happy, Bria." Dad tells me, and I nod.

Well yes, he does look happy but he also looks exhausted.

Now, I knew better than to feel this way, but jealousy bubbles up from inside of me. It wasn't because I wanted him, no matter how much I adored Thomas Shelby's face. But rather because I only began to realize just how good things once were between Thomas and I.

Yeah, once. Something barks, but I ignore it. I was already lit up inside, reminiscing the good old days.

My throat closes up when the music begins signalling that the bride-to-be will soon walk the aisle to meet her husband at the altar.

My shoulders tense up, as everyone turns their head and a woman who is veiled walks down the aisle. I hold my breath once Thomas takes her in his arms and reveals her face to us. She's stunning.

I catch my bottom lip with my teeth again, anxiously waiting. I feel my fathers hand on mine. He gives my hand a squeeze. With that, I am quick to pull myself together, and try to breathe. Telling myself that it's fine, that everything happens for a reason. 

The ceremony goes on and it's needless to say that it's a beautiful one. It's evident that Thomas is awkward, but Mrs. Shelby is the one who pulls the two together gracefully. I think they're in love, but he's so stoic, I can't even be sure of that.

It's the reception and Polly Gray finds me and dad at a table and nearly shrieks. She's happy to see my father, and even more happy to see me.

"Bria, you're looking more and more like your mum!" She laughs. "Oh my God!" She puts her hands on my cheeks and leans in. She smells of champagne and smokes. "Have you inherited any of that gypsy magic?"

I laugh, shaking my head. Polly was a frequent customer of mums, that's how Thomas and I met. She had lugged him around with him during one of her most memorable trips. Mum had been the one to tell Polly all the work she's dedicated to the kids belonging to Arthur Shelby Sr. will pay off. It left Thomas and I alone for hours.

"Shame. Perhaps you could 'ave zapped that woman from our Tommy's life." She loops her arm through mine and we begin walking.

"His wife?" I raise an eyebrow, wondering where we're going. I turn my head to see dad grabbing my glass of champagne. He downs it, and I am quick to look forward.

"Yes." She sighs. "Grace."

"What's wrong with her?" My eyes narrow, seeing the two of them on the dance floor.

We reach a halt, that is right at the bar. Just two fingers is mentioned at the glowy barmaid and Polly's given two shot glasses filled to the brim with an unknown substance.

Aunt Pol really isn't what she used to huh. On a whim, she hands me the shot and leans against the bar. She looks... hot. The dress she wore not the least bit concealing, her hair is neatly done up. She's got a cigarette in one hand, her glass in the other. Sure, the woman's aged but my goodness she looks like a damned goddess.

She sways a bit as her eyes roll back, raising her glass, manages to spill some of her contents on the marble floor. "To undercover spies and finding love in the enemy."

"Huh?" I laugh, still managing to lift my glass against her that slashes a bit of liquor into her drink. Clink! With that, she tosses back the liquor, I throw mine over my shoulder knowing I'd rather not be on Polly's high right now. No matter how fun she's having.

"Do you remember when you were a kid and your mum put those ridiculous gloves on you? Said you could see the truth in people by touchin' em."

We're seated tucked away in the back. Grace dances with her family, all men and women dressed to the nines. Polly sits beside me, my father had gotten 'round to talking to Charlie and Curly who both seem excited for Thomas. Thomas, who zips his way in and out of the venue. I haven't even seen Arthur in a while, nor John.

I rest my chin in my hand, leaning into the table as I watched the blonde be spun around and around. She really is a beauty. Fit for someone like Tommy I'm sure.

"Is that why you left him, you saw the terror behind those cold blues-"

"Polly," I lean back, allowing my eyes to fix on her. I want to change the subject, so I do. "Shouldn't you be dancing around? It's your nephews wedding."

"Oh come on," Polly nudges her shoulder against mine. "I'm more excited to see you, Bri, after all, you were the one who got away."

I roll my eyes, the one who got away. I put my hand in my lap, squeezing my fingertips together, wondering where Thomas is anyways? Without thinking, I push myself back and stand. "I'm going to the loo."

She settles back and nods. Taking a long pull of her cigarette. "Hurry back, I want you to meet my-"

"Son?" I ask, watching as she grins at my question.

"How do you know?!" She's beaming from ear to ear. A total obsessor of anything out of the ordinary. Polly's jaw stays on the ground as I shrug and walk away. 

"Bria!" My father calls for me. Him, Curly and Charlie are drunk out of their minds. "Bria,  if you want to go home darling, you may, Charlie and Curly said they'll drive me home!"

I stop in my tracks, watching the youthful side of my father come out. I haven't seen him grin so hard, it's admirable. He's been through so much, from serving in the war, to losing mum, to going through some serious health issues. It's good to see him actually laugh, his cheeks lifted.

"Alright dad, I'm not leaving though. I'm just going to the restroom."

"Ahhhhhh, alright dear." He nods me off.

His greying brown hair pushed back to reveal the long blade that was embedded in his skin shows. From his forehead down to his left eye, cutting over his cheek and ear. My father's beautiful green eyes glow under his olive skin tone, the man is always somehow tanned. It makes me quite jealous.

I head out of the ballroom and towards the loo. Females watch me, studying my every move. Some I recognize from my teenage years in Small Heath. Lizzie Starke in particular. I see her spending most of her time on her back, poor thing. There's a lineup to enter the loo, and I decide against waiting. The body heat alone makes me feel nauseous as waves of people brush past my shoulders. I get dizzy immediately and see an opening. I should have brought my damned gloves, who the hell did I think I was? Normal?

The entryway is in front of me, large doors hung open to view the beautiful courtyard outside. To my dismay, I see two grown men running after each other. My eyes go wide, as I make out the men to be, Thomas and Arthur Shelby making complete fools out of themselves. My feet move involuntary towards them. My eyebrows pull together, a rush of cool outdoorsy air surrounds me. There they are, a few feet from me. Arthur, the eldest Shelby being chased after by Tommy.

"What the blood hell is-" I begin before Arthur's stops in his tracks.

"Bria Hearn?!" Arthur says, meeting my gaze. He looks dumbfounded, as if I'm some sort of ghost.

Thomas stops in his tracks, he's got his back to me. I watch as his shoulders still, and he stiffens up. The name perks up his ears and I almost wish I had duck when he turns around, the look on his face. He looks astonished really, shocked to say the least.

That cool air I felt welcomed by turns icy and crisp.

You're a damned fool, Bria. My subconscious whispers in my ear. You've opened up the beast's heart again.