Bloodsport ; tommy shelby

𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 - the sack

Today marked a month since Iris had moved to Small Heath, and the weather was getting colder day by day. She was heading to work, smoking a cigarette as she went, in an oddly jolly mood. Maybe it was the upcoming Christmas, but her spirits had lifted a little. She'd made it through a month, and her nerves were finally beginning to settle. Maybe it had been long enough, and she didn't have to worry anymore. Her past was dead and buried, finally. At least she hoped it was.

As she turned onto the road where she worked, she noticed Thomas Shelby standing outside the Bed & Breakfast, looking it up and down. She slowed down her walk and smiled, watching as he squinted up at the sign.

"I'd offer you a job, but I don't think there are any vacancies," Iris said, and the man looked up at her, slightly startled.

"So this is where you work?" he asked, inhaling a large toke of his cigarette.

"Of course," she said. "These coats don't buy themselves."

"John and Arthur reckon you stole them," Tommy said with a small smile.

Iris let out a laugh. "Is that what they think of me, eh?"

"It's what they think of everyone."

Iris smiled, and opened her mouth to speak, but stopped herself when she caught eyes with a mother leaving Margie's Inn, holding a baby in her arms. A flash of recognition passed across the woman's face and she stopped in her tracks. "Katherine?" She said with an unsure smile.

Iris inhaled sharply, her eyes flitting over to Tommy, and back to the woman and her baby. "Sorry, you must have the wrong person."

The woman raised an eyebrow, looking her up and down. Iris silently cursed herself for getting so comfortable so quickly, she should've known something had to go wrong.

"Right, sorry," the woman said, though she didn't seem to believe herself. "You look like a girl I used to know."

Once she was gone, Iris stopped herself from breathing an obvious sigh of relief. Tommy looked like he wanted to say something, but she spoke before he could. "I should be getting off," she gestured to the Bed & Breakfast. "Duty calls."

She disappeared off inside before he could say anything, and shut the door behind her. There was nobody at the front desk, but she could hear a commotion coming from upstairs. She jogged up onto the first landing, where Margie and Betty were standing and arguing with a couple of guests.

"Are you calling my niece a thief?" Margie fumed.

"As a matter of fact, I am," the husband retorted. "Several of the stones have been removed from my wife's necklace in the space of time that we were at breakfast."

Margie turned to Betty, who was standing very still with wide, blinking eyes. "Elizabeth, is this true?" she asked quietly. The girl looked over at Iris, and then back to Margie, staying silent.

"I want my jewels back, and you to give this girl the sack," the wife demanded. "Otherwise I will call the police."

Iris sighed, feeling a pang of guilt. If only she had gone straight to Margie or stopped Betty the first time. Giving the girl a chance to be honest had clearly been a mistake.

"Could you give me a moment alone with her?" Margie said quietly, a grave expression on her face.

Margie led Betty downstairs, and Iris followed, shooting the blonde a disapproving look.

"I thought you were going to put them back," she whispered.

Margie turned back slowly once they'd reached the foot of the stairs. "You knew about this?" this time her grave expression was fixed on Iris.

Betty grabbed Iris' hand and squeezed it tightly. "She caught me stealing once."

"What were you thinking?" Margie said in an angry whisper. "As if business isn't bad enough."

"I'm sorry, I wanted to give her the choice," Iris said quietly. "I didn't want her brother going hungry."

"If you'd told me sooner, I might've been able to prevent this," Margie said with a hardened expression. "Now I have to give you both the sack.'

♞

"I understand why you stole that brooch in the first place," Iris told Betty as she lit a cigarette. The pair had made their way to the Garrison to numb the blow of being freshly unemployed. "But I can't fathom why you'd put Margie on the line after I gave you a chance."

"I didn't steal it, I borrowed it," Betty sobbed.

"You stole it, Betty."

"No, I borrowed it," she sniffed. "I took it to the brokers but I couldn't pay them back in time so they kept it."

Iris pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, taking a long drag of her cigarette as she patted her sobbing friend's back.

"What's going on here?"Arthur Shelby came bursting out of the back room. Betty gulped and stayed quiet.

"We've been sacked," Iris explained, which triggered a rather large sob from Betty. "Because of Elizabeth here's sticky fingers."

"Right." Arthur said, furrowing his brows and looking over at Betty. "Right."

"You don't happen to have a couple of free spaces here for us, do you?" Iris asked. She could see Betty shaking her head in the corner of her eye, but Iris ignored it.

"The question isn't whether there are jobs, it's whether your friend here could handle working in a pub like this," Arthur said with a chuckle.

"I really couldn't," Betty said quietly.

Iris took a puff from her cigarette and rolled her eyes.

"Are you good with numbers?" Arthur asked.

"I am, as a matter of fact," Iris said with a smile.

"Well we always need a couple of assistants down at the betting shop," Arthur offered.

Iris smiled, and looked over at Betty, who didn't look quite as eager. "When do we start?"