𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐈𝐓 a thomas shelby fanfiction [✓]

i

CHAPTER ONE | the beginning

✩

Birmingham 1920

The rain bounced off the pavements, soaking those who ventured outside. Thick black storm clouds covered the skies, screaming out thunder and lightening.

Lucille walked through the middle of the cobbled street, she didn't bother to run, the rain comforted her. Her long raven hair was already soaked, and her dress, you could ring it out and fill a bath. She hadn't bothered with a coat, her job was only down the road. The Garrison.

Lucille had only worked there for two months, but she loved it. When she first came to ask about the job to Harry, he turned her down,

'ya' too pretty sweetheart, go to the florist down the way.'

After much persuasion, he gave Lucille the job. She'd been a brilliant worker, and the Shelby's were all very fond of her. Polly and Ada would invite her to sit with them in the pub when she wasn't working..

"Hi Harry, I'm here and ready."

Lucille wasn't from Birmingham, she was from outside Manchester, about 30 minutes from the city. No point pinpointing where, because no one ever knew the place, so she's a Mancunian, now Brummie.

"Alright Lucie, Shelby's'll be in at 10, you're servin' 'em." Harry shouted to the girl, who had already begun pouring dark mild and whiskey for the men inside.

It was ten to ten, Lucille was in her usual spot, on the centre table facing the door - where most men stood watching the girl, some watched her chest.

She sang like an angel, with the drunk men and the ones still drinking joining in. The Garrison swayed with joy as everyone inside sang loudly. It hadn't been this joyous since before the war. Lucille was enjoying the song, her eyes closed as the melody tumbled from her lips.

However, everybody stopped suddenly, but Lucille carried on, until she opened her eyes. The Shelby's were here. It was 10pm. Her breath was caught in her throat, as she looked at the brothers, who adorned their signature peaky hats.

Arthur stood, looking up at Lucille, he's usual stern face looking upon her. John had the signature toothpick in his mouth and a small smirk to accompany it. But there, in front of the two was the blue eyed man, a cigarette hanging from his lips whilst he looked at Lucille. Thomas had never heard the girl sing before. He was shocked at how beautiful her voice was. But he could see she was frightened when they walked in.

Lucille jumped off the table as quick as she could, turning her back to return behind the bar. All the men stayed quiet and still, until Thomas and his brothers moved towards the snug.

Lucille returned to pouring drinks for overly drunk men who reeked of booze. Soon enough, there was a knock on the side window and Lucille went to open it. She was met with a pair of deep blue eyes staring at her.

"Three whiskeys." Thomas' voice was deep and his accent was thick. This was the first time he'd directly spoken to Lucille, and the first time she'd spoke to him. So without a word she moved to pour three whiskeys, placing them all on the same tray and carrying them to the hatch where Tommy stood.

"On the house, Mr Shelby." Lucille's voice was small and timid, frightened of what the gangster might say to her after the incident. Tommy could tell that Lucille wasn't from Birmingham, although she was frightened like any other Brummie.

"Where you exactly from Lucie?" Tommy asked, taking a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with the strike of a match.

"Born in Manchester, came here year the war ended."