The Queen Of Birmingham

1.

1. gangsta's paradise
'been spending most their lives
living in a gangster's paradise'
~
1919

Ivy sat in her office, feet up on the desk and head back. The cigarette she held in one hand assisted in restoring her heartbeat to its normal pace. The muffled sound of the business she had built rang in her ears. On top of the pile of documents sat a letter from a man she hadn't spoken to in four years.

Once her cigarette had burned out, her moment of peace ended. Sitting back up, she stared at her name written on the front of the envelope. Reaching deep into her coat pocket, she pulled out a match.

Holding up the letter, she reached over to light the match but immediately dropped everything in her hands as her office door burst open. Her brother Freddie stood in the doorway, his expression softening as he saw his sister with stress filling her eyes.

"Where have you been?" Ivy inquired.

"Business." He smirked. The smirk was his way of giving her the real answer without saying it out loud and risking someone hearing. The blinders were their sworn enemies since the war after all, if Birmingham knew Freddie was fucking Ada, both business' reputations would be on the line.

"Well I have some actual business to attend to. Stay here til all the addicts have gone home will ya?" Since the war, Freddie had no interest in the business. All he cared about was Ada and politics. Throwing him the keys, Ivy shoved the letter in her pocket before exiting her office.

Walking across the shop floor was like the King walking through the streets of London. Everyone stopped what they were doing and practically bowed at the site of the infamous Iviana Thorne.

The Shelbys owned one half of Birmingham while the Thornes owned the other. As Ivy approached the edge of her territory, the stares became more prolonged. She was going somewhere slap bang in between their two betting shops. Gripping her gun slightly tighter beneath her coat, Ivy slipped into the pub they had agreed to meet, earning an icy reception. No one in this pub had ever seen her in person, only heard of what she does.

"Miss Thorne." The bartender almost questioned it was really her. She stalked over to the bar as she observed each face in the room, unable to find the one she was looking for. Her heels clicking against the wooden floor was the only sound that could be heard. Once she had reached the bar, the atmosphere seemed to soften slightly. Low whispers evolved into the chatter she had distrusted.

"What can I get you miss?"

"Whiskey with ice." She threw three coins on the bar, knowing it wouldn't be any more than two.

"That won't be necessary miss Thorne, it's on the house." She nodded but left the coins on the bar. It made no difference to her, she had enough money. As her whiskey arrived, a second silence washed over the pub. Without looking to see who had walked in, Ivy turned back to the bar tender.

"Do you have a room we can use for business?"

"Certainly Miss Thorne, right this way." She followed the man, still not looking back at who had entered the bar but confident he was following her.

She sat at the table in the small room, placing a cigarette between her lips as she waited for the man to sit down across from her. Once she had felt the sweet poison enter her lungs, she finally plucked up the courage to look up.

Arthur Shelby had aged significantly over the course of the war. His moustache showed signs of going grey and his face held more wrinkles. He looked uncomfortable, like he didn't want to be there. To come to Ivy for help, she knew the problem had to be substantial.

"If it isn't Arthur Shelby."

"Yeah. It's been a while." His eyes never met hers, shifting between the table and the floor.

"What do you want Arthur?"

"Tommy would kill me if he knew I was here. He won't admit that we need your help."

"You talked to him about me helping you?"

"Yeah. He pinned me against a wall when I mentioned your name. I swear I could see tears in his eyes."

"And yet here you are."

"He needs you Ivy, we all do. The business with Billy Kimber is getting out of hand." Ivy knew all too well about Billy Kimber. He was a sleezy perv who had tried feeling her up on multiple occasions. To her dismay, she knew she had to keep him sweet so he would keep allowing her to fix races.

"What makes you think I could fix business with Billy Kimber?"

"He'd never hurt you because of his alliance with your father. Us on the other hand, he'd shoot without a thought. Tommy's organised a meeting with Kimber and his men and I know it's going to end in death if you're not there to sweet talk him or at least distract him."

"What's in it for me?"

"We'll put you up in Small Heath, until the business is sorted and you'll get a cut of our profits from our next twenty races."

"I don't need any more money." Arthur sighed, Ivy could see he was desperate, she just wanted to figure out how much.

"There's coppers coming from Belfast. Shit's happening Ivy. Shit never happened when you were around." There was a long pause as a young man rushed in with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. His gaze lingered over Ivy, something which both she and Arthur noticed.

"Can I help you?"

"No miss, sorry." He scrambled out of the room, causing Ivy to roll her eyes.

"How you manage to do what you do in this world I'll never know." Arthur scoffed.

"It's not easy."

"I bet it's not. But whatever it is you need, protection, money, anything, we will help you."

"I don't need anything from you Arthur, stop pitching to me. I'll come help you but only because I'm bored. My business practically runs itself, it'll be more fun to help yours out."

Arthur practically jumped from his seat. "I won't let you down, Ivy. I promise."

"Send me a letter with details of my accommodation. Once I'm there, I'll lay low until you need me, and don't breathe a word to Tommy either."

"I won't, I swear it." Ivy cracked a smile at his comment. They always used to use 'I swear it' as the ultimate promise.

"You never misused that in twenty four years before the war, don't start now."