TROUBLE - peaky blinders

07. thievery and triumph

"All right."

"Five." Tommy corrected pointedly, pushing Clara ahead of him as they exited out into Watery Lane. The walk was silent, while Clara kicked the stones and Tommy lit another cigarette. The three entered the Garrison, striding into the snug, where John and Arthur had situated themselves, the latter throwing back a glass of whiskey.

"All right, John." Tommy began, as Clara slid onto the bench, her hair being instantly ruffled by Arthur as she rolled her eyes. "There's only one man guarding the house. What's troubling you?"

"Polly, you know what it's been like since Martha died." John started, his hands fiddling with his cap— something Clara clocked to be a nervous habit.

"God takes the best first." The woman frowned, looking to the man with sympathy. Clara had liked Martha. The woman was kind and often enlisted the girl and Finn to help out and make cookies for the entire Shelby clan. She couldn't remember a lot about the woman, but she'd been kind and warm. To see her deteriorate and eventually pass away was something Clara had pushed out of her mind.

"The truth is, my kids have been running bloody rings around me. Running barefoot with the dogs until all hours." John continued, his head bowed as the girl furrowed her eyebrows.

"Pol, give him ten bob, some shoes and Clara, start babysitting the kids," Tommy ordered, earning an instant wave of protest from the girl, (which was quickly silenced by Arthur patting her shoulder). "Is that it, John?"

"Tommy, we'd be better doing this without you." Aunt Pol huffed, glaring at the man. "Now, what's your point?"

"What the kids need is a mother. So, that's why I'm getting married." Clara's eyes widened, glancing towards Arthur who looked equally as shocked.

"Does this poor girl know you're going to marry her or are you going to spring it on her all of a sudden?" Pol questioned.

"I've already proposed and she said 'yes."

"Congratulations then?" Clara spoke her eyebrows scrunched together.

"I think there's a shell about to land and go bang," Tommy remarked, lighting yet another cigarette. The family watched as John took a sip of his beer, wiping his mouth before looking up.

"It's, er... It's Lizzie Stark."

A chorus of chuckles erupted from Pol and Arthur, as Clara bit her lip to contain her snickers. She knew all about Lizzie Stark, everyone knew about Lizzie Stark. The girl bowed her head, as Arthur covered his face to try to hide his glee.

"John, Lizzie Stark's a strong woman and I am sure she provides a fine service for her customers." Pol spluttered.

"I WON'T hear the word. Understand?" John snapped, causing Clara to jump and sit up straighter, her lips still fighting the urge to quirk up. "Do not use that word."

"What word is that, John?" Tommy asked, leaning against the wall nonchalantly.

"You know what word that is."

"Everybody bloody knows..." Arthur laughed.

"Everybody can go to hell..." John persisted.

"'Whore'? That word? Or 'prostitute'?" Tommy contemplated, "How about that one?"

"Right, I want it known... if anyone calls her a 'whore' again, I will push the barrel of my revolver down their throats and blow the word back down into their hearts." John viciously spat.