NEW CHAPTERS COMING SOON.
Small Heath, Birmingham, was an unsafe place to be. Men stumbling drunk out of pubs, whores there waiting for them on the side of the street, with gang fights happening around the corner. Unsafe for young girls... but not i...
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• • •
"Morning, it's another pure grey morning."
• • •
Peeling my face off the table as I woke up, noticing I was back at the garrison. My head throbbed as I tried to stand up, seeing that most other boys were still there, too, except for Arthur and John. Rubbing my head, I made my way to the pub's bathroom.
Running the tap, I splashed the cold, stale water up at my face trying to remember what had happened last night.
'I want to see you tomorrow at nine sharp at the betting shop', Thomas' gruff voice suddenly echoed through my head. Shit, shit, shit, I thought, grabbing my watch from my pocket and finding it was ten minutes too. Shit!
Rushing out of the pub, I bumped into Arthur, who chuckled at the sight of me.
"Some celebrations last night, ay kid? Thomas doesn't like to be kept waiting though" I looked at him confused before turning and running off down the street, hearing Arthurs's chuckle fade, knowing I couldn't be late for the meeting.
• • •
Harry raced into the betting den, reaching the office door as she paused, fixing her hair and cap in the glass reflection before knocking on the door.
"Enter," Thomas' voice rang out as Harry entered the cigarette, smoke, filled room. Mr Shelby sat at his desk, looking over some documents that were spread out in front of him.
"You did well yesterday, Harry", He spoke out while offering a cigarette to her.
"Thank you, Mr Shelby." She replied, taking the cigarette before lighting it with her lighter.
"There will be more work like that if you want it. If not, you can go your separate way," Harry nodded as she took a drag. Thomas noticed her slightly scruffy appearance, remembering Arthur had mentioned the group's little celebrations last night.
"You slept at the garrison last night?" He queered, a slightly amused smile playing on his face.
"Ugh, yes, Mr Shelby, I think..." Harry replied, still not entirely able to remember the night before.
"And normally?" Thomas pried.
"Depends..." She trailed off as she turned to look out the window onto the street. The silence was enough to know that answer did not satisfy Thomas Shelby. With a sigh, she turned her head back.
"Depends on the night. Sometimes the cut, sometimes the old factories." Thomas' jaw noticeably tightened; his reaction caused Harry to be consumed by confusion.
"Be back here at 6." He stated, with no further information. Why was he looking out for her, Harry thought. Wasn't she meant to be just another troop so Thomas wouldn't get his hands dirty?
Pushing her thoughts out of her mind, she replied with a simple nod, turning to reach the door. Just before Harry had fully exited, Thomas shouted after her:
"No more pickpocketing!" Causing Harry to spin around, bringing her hand up to her head, saluting him with a cheeky grin before running off to find some trouble.
• • •
After their meeting, Harry was replaced by a perplexed Polly, leaning against the wall and staring down at Tommy.
"We're taking in orphan kids now, are we, Thomas?" She finally spoke, breaking the deafening silence.
"No, Polly, we are hiring those fit for the jobs we need carrying out", Thomas replied with a sigh, annoyed to be questioned for his actions.
"What sort of job do we need a dirty thief for?" Polly laughed, causing Tommy to take his glasses off and look at the women.
"He's smart, smarter than half our men out there put together," pointing out of the office to the betting den,
"Can he read and write? Or let alone count?" Polly replied, leading Thomas to shake his head.
"What does it matter if he can or not? He has a sharp eye for detail. He has potential, Pol, potential to help us get where we want to be."
"Thomas Shelby needing help; never thought I'd hear that in my life" Polly chuckled in disbelief, knowing it was always her nephew against the world.
"Of course, I bloody need help. This is for all of us, Pol!" He seethed, slamming his hand down on the table.
"There's something off about that boy Thomas." Causing Tommy to raise his eyebrow.
"I feel it in my blood..."
"In your gypsy blood, ay pol?" Pinching the top of his nose bridge, bewildered.
