In Small Heath | Peaky Blinders

eighteen; old faithful

"Holy shit, it's King George." Charlie whispered, dumbfounded by the man stood before him.

King George appeared more of a man than a saintly king, he was nothing more than just a humble man as he stood there, hands firmly clasped in front of him.

If Bash could see, he'd notice how he stood with a lean, almost like his father did - but this lean was no drunken slump. He'd also notice that he didn't look down upon the men before him, but with a glaze of equality across his gaze. He understood what they had all sacrificed and clearly it was enough for a more personal visit.

"I would like to offer my greatest condolences, and an answer as to why you are here at Kensington." King George started, addressing the room with little effort.

It was as if speaking to the public was his day job.

It didn't take long before heads turned, the king was talking to them! They were in the Kings centre line of view! They were on his radar, they were —

"Every man before me has sacrificed the most to help see us victorious and I would like to honour you all with the highest of honours. Lieutenant Colonel, I do believe I just bestowed the Victoria Cross to your brother, Thomas."

Thomas Arthur turned his head towards Bash, only just realising that he had been telling the truth, that he did share a name with a brother of his.

Bash's face cracked a small fleeting smile before the stoic stare fell back upon his features. Hearing what his brother was not only alive but now the owner of the most prestigious medal in the world? Well, that just made his day.

"And now we're being sent to the glue factory." Bash retorted, though his tone was very clearly one full of humour.

Jimmys head snapped towards the other, face singed red with embarrassment until he heard the King laugh.  No one had expected one of Bash's quick remarks to have happened in front of royalty, definitely not one as brash as that - but with one laugh came a thousand more.

Charlie had very much expected to hear at least a few apologies from Thomas Arthur, but even hearing him laugh threw the younger off guard.

It seemed in returning to British soil had given everyone the rush of relief they'd all dreamt of. Even if they were still hundreds of miles away from where they want to be.

The King became more and more human as the moments pass. The crinkle of the crows feet beside his eyes, the twinkle of hope and humour that carried in his voice, the overwhelmingly proud look that hadn't yet faded from his eyes. He knew exactly what was to come, but he knew the road ahead for these men would not be an easy one.

"Now I wouldn't have said glue, and I'm also not Sweeney Todd... but I do find your humour just lightened everyone's mood." George replied, patting the Shelby boy on his shoulder lightly.

"Guess after we've got this meddle, I can't go and see Old Faithful, then?" Charlie asked, more so to Bash than the greater population of the room, but it managed to gain the attention of almost everyone.

King George took a step closer to the two, leaning forward ever so slightly to be closer to them - probably so he didn't have to overly annunciate every word he said, since now he wasn't talking to the room.

"Old Faithful?"
"His horse, your majesty."

The man stroked his beard as if deep in thought, before nodding along.

"I had a horse named Old Faithful when I was a boy. He was almost eighteen hands tall, and a bloody great beast he was! Do you know of his breed?"

Bash shook his head, although he'd had the horse for almost his entire lifetime, his mother helped him win it in one of the last few fairs the Shelbys were allowed to attend.

"Sorry, your Majesty... alls I know is he gives me faith, tall as a building and he eats more apples than he does hay... and he's slow as a fuckin' slug."

George was quick to notice their discomfort, but he wasn't sure why. Of course, subconsciously he knew that talking to dignitaries and royalty wasn't ideal, especially under stressful circumstances, and he wasn't blaming them for it either - he just wished he could understand.

It wasn't every day that the King sat with soldiers, and it wasn't every day that the soldiers acted as if he was an every day man.

Refreshing, was definitely one word to describe it.

"Well, don't you worry, Mister Burton, you'll be visiting the Old Faithful as soon as you're both well enough to travel."

Charlie nodded, the smile that had faded as he talked regained its strength, nodding his head along as the King spoke.

He still couldn't believe he'd just witness Bash swear right in front of the man who could send him to the gallows if he really wanted it. Bash was so overly comfortable, but Charlie put it to the fact if he couldn't see the man in front of him, he wasn't really there.

"Lieutenant Colonel Shelby, I do hope to be in your presence at a later date, but for now I must continue on the journey. Have safe travels back to Small Heath, someone should be in touch."

And with that ominous end to such a rather lovely meeting, the King was escorted back out of the room, and the chatter began.

Everyone started to bring out their questioning, their reasonings as to the whys and the how's. Why them, why now- how did he know about them, how did he choose?

Every question had an answer but none of them were quite sure as to how they'd end up getting them.

"Thomas." Bash called out, silence once again falling amongst the men.

It wasn't very often that Bash would willingly start speaking, he felt more like a burden than a leader so he just kept himself to himself. Not that it helped him much.

"Yes, mate?"
"Not forgotten the fact you called me a didicoy, but — when we get back to Birmingham, you talk to my brother Tommy about that money."

Maybe Old Faithful was just the slice of luck they needed.