There was something about the new barmaid at the Garrison that made Birdie suspicious.
"I heard Tommy's taking her to Cheltenham." John had barged into the pub about twenty minutes after Birdie, immediately noticing the glare she was shooting towards the blonde. Birdie cleared her throat and straightened her posture.
"Why should I care?" She raised the glass of whiskey to her lips, its sharp scent engulfing her nostrils. She had chosen Irish whiskey, a mistake when she heard the barmaid's trill.
"Because you and Tommy are still mad for each other. It's obvious." John blurted, ever the one to speak his mind. Birdie nearly choked on the sip she was about to swallow, holding her hand to her chest.
"Oh shove off, John. You don't know what you're talking about." She shoved his shoulder, gasping when the fiery liquid finally finished burning her tongue and slipped down her oesophagus.
"Only a matter of time, Birdie." John continued. Somewhere internally, Birdie was laughing at the younger man, but externally she was shooting daggers.
"I've moved on from your brother." Birdie confessed. She winced; she was going to regret saying that.
John laughed, alcohol tinging his perception, but he still managed to reach out and pat her shoulder. Birdie's dress was an old one, her favourite to wear post-rehearsal, with capped sleeves that felt John's heavy hand. She glanced at him blankly, and it wasn't long before he'd swaggered over to their private room.
Birdie finished the remains of her drink in one gulp, pursing her lips before sliding out of her seat. She knew it would be occupied by another drunkard in a matter of seconds, but cared very little about saving her seat.
"Same as before?" The barmaid asked absentmindedly, having just served a pint.
"Scotch this time." Birdie was already rummaging for the coins to cover the second drink.
"On the house," the barmaid waved a hand, expertly pouring the spirit into the glass. She held it out to her after she was satisfied. "How do you know the Shelby family?"
"Why do you want to know?" Birdie fired back, ignoring the hand and letting the blonde place the glass in front of her.
"You don't get any women in here. And John seemed to respect you." She nodded her head in the direction of the chairs that had been sitting on, now occupied by Stanley Chapman and his boisterous friends.
"First rule about the Garrison; don't ask questions." Birdie hummed, a dangerous smirk slipping onto her face. She felt annoyed, but tried to play it off as mild irritation laced with alcohol.
"I'm just curious, that's all." The woman smiled sweetly, as though the harshness of the brunette hadn't phased her in the slightest. Birdie clucked her tongue, shrugged her shoulders and raised her glass in the barmaid's direction. Concealing a roll of the eyes, she turned and eyed the available seats, trying to select who she felt like socialising with.
It seemed that when one Shelby left, another slid into her view.
"Birdie, I need to talk to ya." Ada slammed the door of the Garrison shut and grasped at her forearm, her tone hushed. Birdie nearly shrugged her off, but a single glance at her quivering figure sent her into the quietest corner of the pub.
"Everything okay?" she asked, quickly glancing over at the barmaid to make sure she wasn't watching. Sure enough, her fierce gaze turned the blonde straight back to work.
"I'm.. um, I don't know how to say it." Ada stuttered, the cool confidence of the Shelby girl temporarily lost.
"Just spit it out, c'mon." Birdie urged, slightly impatient.
YOU ARE READING
VIOLENT DELIGHTS | TOMMY SHELBY
Fanfiction" these violent delights have violent ends and in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which, as they kiss, consume. " Birdie Brooks was a warrior who thought her fight was over. A lifelong connection to Shelby fami...
