god is a woman (arthur shelby.)

one.

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Birmingham was Rowan's kind of place.

She'd been sat in a train carriage for hours and she hadn't seen a field in a long while. The closest she'd got to nature so far was the canal. She always preferred the city to the country, much to her father's displeasure.

"You'll set like that." Her father's harsh Belfast accent echoed around their carriage.

Chester Campbell's face was hidden by his highly confidential files. Rowan was forbidden from looking, but she managed to read the first fact file about Thomas Shelby whilst Chester was in the toilet. He trusted his daughter far too much, she had no respect for him.

Perhaps it was her large doe like eyes that had him wrapped around her finger, she had a habit of doing that. The pair of them looked nothing alike, and acted nothing alike too. The ironic difference between the two was that Chester was a policeman, whilst his daughter bent every law in the book.

"How long now?" She asked, still staring out of the window at the black smog that looked over the city.

"Not long." Chester replied.

The tense air was unbearable. Chester had caused the argument in Rowan's eyes. But Rowan had caused the argument in Chester's eyes.

He was required to move to Birmingham due to a case involving missing BSA munitions. That was not the problem for Rowan. Her issue was that he was forcing her, his adult daughter with her own life to lead, to come with him.

His argument was that she wasn't mature enough to live alone. Her argument was that he was a cunt, with the occasional comment about not being her real father.

"You'd better keep yourself in check this time." He remarked.

Rowan hid her smile as she remembered the last trip he'd ordered her on. It was a very long story involving a gun, a threesome and a politician. Her finest moment, and the reason for his recurring headache.

She never replied to his comment and the rest of the journey was awkwardly silent. She watched the water from the canal morph into cobbled streets as they disembarked the train and entered a taxi.

Night had fallen in the city, and the true Birmingham had come out to play.

In a morbid sense of awe, Rowan admired the danger and thrill of it all. Belfast was boring, as was her home town of Galway.

The fact that the taxi driver refused to go further than the pub out of fear was enough to set her heartbeat racing out of both fear and excitement. There were drunks shouting, couples, which in hindsight were probably prostitutes and paying customers shagging in the streets whilst another group of men sparred on full display, raising her father's eyebrows.

Largely more interesting than the sleepy village outside Belfast they hailed from.

Her father lead her to their place of accommodation meant for the duration of their time spent in Birmingham. Chester has made the god almighty mistake of booking two rooms, one for him and one for Rowan.

As soon as he left her to unpack, she was immediately checking the window lock. The gods were in her favour, she didn't need a key.

She had an escape route.

"I need to talk to the chief down at the station urgently, will you be alright alone?" Chester stuck his head around her door and asked.

"Yes. No problem. Off you go." She beamed, her smile hiding her mischief.

"Okay. Stay in tonight, you saw how it was out there. If you want to explore, do it in daylight." He ordered her.

"I'm not a dog, dad." She snapped.

Chester rolled his eyes at his daughter before placing his bowler hat on his head and shutting the door behind him.

Determination was scrawled upon her face as she focussed her attention to the window. She was ninety nine percent sure that she could fit through the window. She was only five foot tall and was a relatively skinny girl, meaning she'd have no trouble so long as she folded herself up correctly.

Using the chest of drawers as a launch pad, she clambered up so she was knelt on top of it. Inspecting the catch, it looked relatively easy to undo. She simply twisted the semi circle of metal around, and release.

The window pane swung open to let in the cool air and smell of smoke into her bedroom. Her plan was working so smoothly she was almost concerned why there hadn't been a hitch.

Peering out of the window, she noticed that the drop wasn't all that big. She'd jumped further before. When landing, she'd land on the street so she had to make sure not to break her legs or else that really would blow her cover.

Rowan carefully squished herself through the gap in the wall, making sure to leave it ajar so she had easy access on the return. She was now hanging off the guttering that ran down the side of the building, flashing her knickers to the lairy drunks below.

She took one deep breath and said a prayer to her mother, before letting her fingers slip. In a quick second, she was crouching on the floor as she landed gracefully, even managing to hold her skirt down.

"Nice pants darling!" A man whistled at her as she tidied her hair up.

"Fuck off." She shouted back.

She all of a sudden felt like drugs had just kicked in, she was on such a high.

Immortal, unstoppable and absolutely free.

She made a beeline for the pub, clocking the name as the Garrison, bathing her way through the crowds that lingered outside. She pushed the heavy wooden door open and stepped up inside of it.

The smoke was like a pall, and the smell of the beer hit her lungs so hard she felt dizzy. She was the only girl in there by a long shot, with only two others making a grand ratio of nine men for every one girl.

"Hey." She called out to the barman and mustered up all of her confidence to push to the bar. "I want a drink."

"You? You don't look old enough."

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a/n: i got round to it! this chapter is just exposition but it will soon get interesting (i hope anyway) x