VICES AND VIRTUES | Thomas Shelby

EIGHT

"I'll be fine," She insisted, raising her skirt above her knee and revealing the revolver tucked into her stocking that John had given her secretly, knowing Tommy wouldn't approve.

"Oh, that's just terrific," Elijah sighed in disbelief, resting his head in his hand, "You're carrying a gun?"

"Yeah, I am, and you know better than anyone that I know exactly how to use it," Florence remarked, "I'm going in there, so you can either stay here and keep watch or you can come with me."

"We'll wait out here, wouldn't want to go in there heavy handed," George answered like a true Harrington, as his father had raised him to, above anything else, protect the family name.

Wordlessly, Florence paced towards the pub, walking alongside the wall and down towards the back door, her heart racing as she contemplated what might await her.

She pushed the door open slowly, slipping into the back room, still out of sight of the main area of the pub, "Everyone else, go home!" She heard Tommy's voice, which relieved her as she heard chairs scraping the floor and people's footsteps as they fled the pub.

She took this as her opportunity to enter the room, immediately catching Tommy's attention as his brothers and two men she didn't recognise sat down at a table in the middle of the room.

"What are you doing here?" Tommy whispered as Florence watched Grace place a tray of drinks on the table before Arthur gestured towards the door.

"The same as you, drinking," She answered coyly, masking the panic caused by this impromptu meeting Tommy had found himself in.

"Go home," Tommy told her sternly, doing his best to shield her from the view of the other men.

"Goodnight Mr Shelby," Grace nodded with a smile before swiftly leaving the pub.

"I'm not going anywhere," Florence answered firmly.

"Florence, I won't ask again." Tommy continued, resting his palm against the wall behind her.

"And I won't tell you again." Florence fired back calmly, spoken like a true Peaky Blinder.

"There isn't a problem, is there, Mr Shelby?" One of the men unknown to Florence spoke up.

"No problem at all," Florence smiled, passing Tommy and approaching the table, closely followed by Tommy, "Apologies, I didn't catch your name, Mr?"

"Kimber, Billy Kimber, you're a sweet thing, what's your name?" He asked, having sensed the clear tension between her and Tommy, deciding there was no better way of getting under the Shelby man's skin than toying with his prized possession. 

"I wouldn't be half as interesting if I told you that," Florence answered, knowing better than to give her name to the man she presumed fired the bullet she heard.

"I've never approved of women in pubs," Billy smirked as Tommy took a seat beside his brothers, Florence deciding to lean against the bar for a better view on the spectacle, feeling Billy's gaze burning against her skin, "But when they look like that..."

"Don't look at her, look at us," John warned, returning Billy's attention to the three Shelby men.

"Is she your missus, or something?" Kimber smirked at John, intrigued by the efforts the men before him had made to protect the woman.

"If it stops you looking her up and down like a tart, then yes she is," John answered, reminding Florence that as long as she had her Shelby boys, she'd be safe.

"You said you wanted men called Shelby, you've got three of them," Tommy interjected in an attempt to diffuse the situation while getting straight to matters of business.