ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ

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Before Cliona wandered into the city, her duties lay in the midst of Shelby Limited, where she took checks for bets, her ear constantly to the phone, taking the special customers through phone call. For once in her life, she had a job, and she was getting paid more than even being a nurse would be rewarded. Of course, she did the other business with the Peaky Blinders, but she never liked to think about that, and besides they always dealt with bad people. It was better if they were off the streets anyways. However, upon business in London, she met a man. A man that said all the right things, and didn't know the double life she led. Not yet. He treated the heathen like a saint. So she stayed, with the blessing of her counterparts in Birmingham. The city was a place, the Irish girl would never dream of living in, yet she'd made it. Although, she knew she had to return to Birmingham once in awhile, because she was a Peaky Blinder, that didn't just go away. So her bout of luxury ended as she stepped from the car onto the cobbled of Small Heath, walking to Watery Lane.

Thomas Shelby and Cliona Burgess stepped off the curb and across the pavement to Shelby Company Limited. Upon the opening of the door, the rest of the family already in Tommy's office. The pair walked in as Esme, John's wife was giving off behind the closed door. To be truthful, Esme was giving off when Cliona walked into the building earlier that day as well. 

"So you know who did it?" She heard the voice of Polly question the younger woman. 

"I was told only family members were allowed to speak.." Suddenly Thomas and Cliona barged through the door. 

"Everybody's allowed to speak" All heads turned towards him as they entered. "On your feet Esme. Let's hear what you have to say." His hand waved her up from her sitting position on the stairs. The young brunette stood up slowly, a little unsure at first but her hard confident stance returned. 

"As my husband said, Shelby Company Limited is now very successful. But London... I have kin in Shepherds Bush and Portobello. It's more like wars between armies down there. And the coppers fight side-by-side with them. And there are foreigners of every description and the use of bombs is the least of it." She spoke sophisticated in her Romani slur. "I have a child. Blessed with the Shelby family good looks. I want John to see him grow up. I want us to someday live somewhere with fresh air and trees. And keep chickens or something. But London is just smoke and trouble Thomas." Cliona knew the girl meant well, heck maybe she even yearned for a life like that too. Fresh air and trees reminded her of home. Thomas took her point into consideration with a small nod. 

"First of all the bang with the pub has nothing to do with London. It's something I'm dealing with on my own" A lie, that only Cliona could count for. "And we have nothing to fear from the proposed business expansion. So long as we stick together. And after the first few weeks nine tenths of what we do down there will be legal." The woman had been living in London, for the last year, she seen the dirt and filth mixed with the people, first hand. These people were not made to meddle with, but neither was Thomas Shelby. Or any of the Shelby's for a fact. "The expansion process begins tomorrow." He finished his declaration pulling off his leather gloves, taking out a cigarette. 

"But tomorrows Newmarket..." Cliona raised an eyebrow, as Tommy nodded. It was race day, one of the busiest days of the year. 

"No one gets killed. We go down tomorrow when the town is quiet and leave our message. If Alfie Solomon's and his Camden boys come to us, well negotiate the use of a secure bonded warehouse. Then we can begin our legal operation in London." Alfie Solomon's led a Jewish gang, and Cliona had already had several run ins with his clan. The Shelby's played unfair but, Alfie and his men were just dirty. Polly Gray was clearly not amused with the plan, as she quarreled with him, as he made his way to the safe. Cliona seeing that the discussion was over slipped away out onto the streets, making her way back to the tenement.

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"Dear Grace,

I haven't wrote in awhile, but I'm not dead, so there's that. I've been thinking, thinking a lot about everything. Fucking life. And there's no road back to the way we were, the Galway girls that ran around the streets barefoot. Before Birmingham, I was having trouble finding out who I was, and maybe you were too. I won't talk about him. It wouldn't be fair. Back to this thinking again, I mean I hope you can accept the way I am someday, because I forgive you. Maybe I even admire it now, because it's the bravest thing I've ever known. Some people are factory workers, some are farmers, some work for the crown and some are gang members. But we're just people at the end of the day. And we're not the bad people. We're not. I can't accept that. I also am writing to say that I'm living a double life in London, something I'm not sure will reward. It's effort, but it keeps me out of trouble. Congratulations, on the marriage, and I just hope your happy. That's what matters. Keep living the dream, with your American man, dear sister. I'll meet you in London if you decide to visit.

Yours sincerely, Cliona

Cliona's fingers fell from her typewriter the next morning, sliding the page from it, folding it and carefully putting it into an envelope that already had an address and stamp etched on the front. Her boots had just been fastened when a hard knock rattled from the door. She heaved a breath out, before walking to the door, turning the handle, to reveal a Thomas Shelby, dressed in his usual black coat and peaked cap. 

"You've learnt to knock" She stated, pulling on a tweed blazer, fastening the gold buttons, placing a similar flat cap on her head. 

"We're going to London. John and Arthur are in the car." A frown fell upon the girls expression. 

"I didn't actually think I was going with you. I thought I'd stay and help with the paperwork, since I've only came back from London." Thomas took the cigarette that hung from his lips, holding it in his hand. 

"Oh, that's what you thought, is it? Get in the fucking car" He spoke in his monotonous drawl, as she stood her ground, causing him to grow even more impatient. Thomas Shelby was never nice about the things he said, but he was becoming more blunt.

Maybe it was the Irish problem or maybe it was Grace. But Cliona was not taking his bullshit. Cliona closed her door, pushing past him, hurrying down the stairs, as he strode after her. They emerged from the tenement, as John and Arthur sat in the Fiat. Cliona strode past the car walking down the street. Instead of chasing after her, Thomas threw himself into the front seat, catching up to the girl, driving at her walking pace. 

"Get in the bloody car, Cliona!" He yelled out the window losing his patience with the girl, who was not in the mood for his behaviour towards her. She held a hand up. 

"In a minute, I've got to post a letter" She called continuing to walk to the end of the street where the post box sat. Upon arriving she hastily put the letter through the slot turning around to where Thomas had stopped the car. Her heeled boots tapped away at the pavement as she got in the back of the car, to where an amused John sat. 

"Right. We'll be on our way, since the Bearcat has decided to finally comply" Cliona blew a strand of hair out of her face. 

"Gypsy bastard" She muttered under her breath, but it was loud enough so that they all heard. John let out a loud laugh as Thomas didn't answer starting the car. 

"I love women" He continued to laugh, his face going slightly red.

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