July 16 - Chapter 11 posted.Preview: Camilla recovers only to learn about a surprising turn in both her and Tommy's future.

Chapter 1

He smelled it first. The bite of iron mixed with the stench of garbage. The car pulled down the small shoddy road. Small Heath. Home.

The overcast sky, the constant drizzle, all things he had grown up with and become immune to. As he stepped out of the car his fancy shoes sunk into the wet black mud. He pulled the brim of his cap low, tugged at the collar of his black overcoat. He had business with Michael.

As he crossed the road an unusual event caught his eye. Further down the road, a young lady was precariously perched at the top of a step ladder, hanging a sign to an iron post. Her silver blonde hair plastered to her face. She stood on tiptoe, firm determination etched on her face. It was that look that caught his eye.

"Tommy!" Michael ran out into the rain, holding an umbrella for him. "You are early."

"Who's that?" Thomas tilted his chin down the road.

Michael squinted. "Oh her? Camilla Dupont. She leased that building a week ago. And the bedroom above it. Turning it into a hospital or something." He talked around the cigarette hanging from his mouth.

"She leased it?" Thomas knew the building. It was small, run down, but they overcharged on the lease.

"Aye."

"Did she bargain?"

Michael tilted his head, "Hm. No. She came with cash. Paid for the month already."

That sparked an interest. No one paid in full upfront around here, especially without a bargain. "Where is she from?"

"Um... I think her papers say London."

"A week ago you say?"

Michael nodded, brows furrowed trying to make out his line of questioning.

"Give me your umbrella."

"I have one for you here."

"No, I want both."

"Tommy, it's starting to rain like mad."

"Give me your umbrella Michael."

Reluctantly he handed both umbrella's over and hunched his shoulders as the rain fell on him. He tossed his wet cigarette.

"Go inside, I'll see you in a bit."

"The meeting Tommy?"

"I'll be there. Go inside."

Thomas held one umbrella and carried the other. He headed down the road. The woman was still still trying to get the last screw to attach to the sign. Her attention completely focused that she didn't see him standing by the ladder. Thomas waited until she screwed the sign before interrupting.

"Ms. Dupont."

Camilla wiped the rain from her eyes and peered down at him. "Yes?"

"You just leased this building."

"Yes?"

"It is part of the Shelby's real estate portfolio."

Slowly she took stepped down the ladder. Once on the ground she had to tilt her head back to meet his eye.

"Are you asking me questions or stating facts?"

The rain enhanced her perfume. The subtle scent of tuberose. She was petite. This close he caught the gold flecks of her light brown eyes.

"I am Thomas Shelby."

Her attention was on the ladder. She pushed at it trying to get it to cold. It didn't budge. "I know who you are Mr. Shelby."

He glanced up at the sign. A red cross against a white background. "You are a nurse?"

"No Mr. Shelby. I am a doctor. A certified doctor."

"You've come to open a hospital?"

"A clinic actually." She kicked at the ladder again. "Is there something you need Mr. Shelby? Because I have much to do before this place opens and it getting quite wet out here."

He glanced down at the second umbrella he had been holding. He had meant to give it to her. In their exchange he had forgotten about it. Camilla followed his gaze. "A bit late for that now Mr. Shelby."

He clenched his jaw. Being on his back foot was not common for him. He moved his own umbrella forward covering them both. "We have a hospital already Ms. Dupont."

"No. You have a hospital in Birmingham. You have midwives in Small Health. You have no clinic."

"You've done your research."

She shrugged and turned from him pushing the ladder against the wall, giving up on it completely. Even with the mud and rain she had the cleanliness of someone not from Birmingham. She stood with her spine straight, her shoulders back, chin up, eyes bright and defiant. He didn't know everything about women's fashion, but he recognized popular cuts, especially when they were similar Ada and Polly's clothing. The Shelby's bank account knew just how expensive their tastes were.

Camilla's didn't seem to give a damn that her fancy coat was soaked. And yet, she rented the flat above clinic. He knew that state of that single bedroom. Even the ones that didn't have money would've bargained for something better. And yet she paid for everything in cash upfront.

It wasn't adding up.

With one hand he reached out and gave the ladder a shove. It sprung close. "Where is this going?"

Her nostrils flared refusing to acknowledge his ease with the ladder. "Follow me." She led him around the corner, unlocking the door to the clinic.

Once inside she pointed against the wall, "That can go there." She barked orders like she was used to it.

The vestibule had one sad beaten down wooden desk. A large window by the front door streamed in gray light. Thomas looked around the sparse room. "This is your clinic?"

"Well it's in progress. And you have to your imagination Mr. Shelby. Here come." She guided him down the short hallway. Her heels clicked. Her gait self assured. She glided down the hallway as if used to a sea of invisible beggars parting for her. Many of the upper class walk like that. Both May and Grace walked like that.

"The front rooms will be for walk-ins. I'm going to paint them, so it isn't that terrible death white. With all the windows there will be tons of light. Airy and bright. These back rooms will be for longer stays since they are larger. I'm going to add in another cot, incase family wants to stay the night. They will be more comfortable."

"And these rooms?" He pointed to the last rooms in the building.

"They will be for surgery and such things women may need."

He leaned forward. "This is a women's clinic?"

"Somewhat."

"You will only accept women?"

"That seems limiting no? The clinic will be open for all. But through word of mouth I hope the ladies of Small Heath will know this is also sanctuary for them."

The pieces clicked. "You are going to perform-"

She held up a hand. "No. That is not the goal of this clinic. Even though I am a trained surgeon, women have other medical needs besides that."

"You were in France?"

"That was a little before my time."

He tried to calculate how old she was. He'd have to look at her papers.

"When is this clinic opening?"

"By the end of the month I hope."

Excitement flooded her voice when she talked about the transformation. It was infectious. He was pulled into her vision. He cleared his throat shaking himself from the grip of her enthusiasm.

"You paid first months rent?"

"Yes. That um... Michael Gray gentleman? I gave it to his assistant the the beginning of the week."

He walked back down the hallway towards the front door. She kept up with his brusque stride. He pulled out his case of cigarettes, placing one between his lips.

"No, none of that in here." She looked him dead in the eye. "I'm serious."

Slowly he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and placed it back into the case.

"Now that you know I am not a deadbeat tenant, is there anything else you might need?" She was smiling civilly, but her eyes were sharp, prepared for defense if he antagonized her. He took his time collecting his umbrella, running through all the things he just learned, building her profile in his mind. She was a question that demanded answers.

"Rent is always first of the month. Twenty percent charge of it is late." He didn't mean for it sound as gruff as it did. It had been a long time since someone surprised him.

Camilla stood in the entryway, a smile plastered to her face. "Of course Mr. Shelby."