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𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲, 𝗲𝗽𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗱𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲: endless problems
MARGARET CROSSED HER LEGS as she released the smoke from her mouth, lightly tapping the cigarette above the ashtrays as she watched the ashes fell into it. Tommy checked his clock, Polly nervously bounced her leg up and down as Arthur paced back and forth in the pub. After picking up Michael and Gina, his new wife, Arthur didn't waste a second on calling Thomas who after told Margaret. The woman thought it was only fair for them to be mad at Michael— first he crashed Wall Street, then he got arrested by the IRA because he had been seen with men who wanted bad things for Thomas Shelby. So, she knew there was nothing she could to calm the brothers down. . . and would do nothing to calm them, because she was barely able to hold everything in.
"Will you please consider putting your weapons behind the bar, in case feelings begin to run high?" Spoke Polly as Tommy was leaned against it and Arthur let out a scoff.
"Behind the bar, Pol, eh?" He exclaimed. "Behind my own bar, yeah?" He repeated, pulling out his gun as he took out all the bullets and slammed it against the table, slightly moving Maggie's drink. "I prefer it there."
Maggie groaned, "Oi! Be fucking careful, Arthur. Almost spilled me drink." Loudly said the woman as he apologised.
Polly gave Thomas a look as he rolled his eyes, but put his gun behind the bar, she then looked down at Maggie who was peacefully smoking, "Maggie, you too."
"I'd never shoot Michael, you know that." Shockingly spoke Margaret, a grey cloud surrounded her.
The aunt smiled, "I know, love. But, you might shoot someone else."
It was Margaret's turn to roll her eyes as she stood up, took her gun and put it next to Tom's one. He glanced at Margaret, he hadn't talked to her ever since he had discovered about the Wall Crash, too busy in his own thoughts and meetings. He had talked to Charlie and Elliot a little, but he couldn't catch her as Arthur stated she was with Linda. Maggie stayed next to her husband, giving him a smile to show him it was going to be okay—and that they were okay.
"Had a dream. . ." Started Thomas, clearing his throat. "about a black cat last night, Pol. A black cat dream means there is a traitor close by. It was you who taught me that."
Polly seemed quite surprised as she gulped, her cigarette between her two fingers, "Black cat can means a lot of things. It can mean you're hurting yourself, betraying yourself. Are you seeing things, Thomas?"
From Thomas' face, Margaret knew exactly who the black cat was, wasn't hard to guess it was Michael, either way he wouldn't have brought it up today. A few years back, when she came back to Small Heath, she probably would have called him crazy and said that a family member would never betray another; yet Michael had proven her wrong by choosing his mother. Maggie walked behind the bar, poured herself a drink as Tommy pulled out a cigarette, lighted it. He turned toward Margaret as he heard the car stopping outside, suddenly feeling the need to look at her to ease his nerves before seeing his cousin. He didn't give her a smile but his eyes talked for him as he turned on his heels again, back against the wooden bar.
