"GET YOURSELF A DECENT HAIRCUT, MAN. WE'RE GOING TO THE RACES," Thomas gulped down the whiskey before slamming the glass on the table.
The next morning, inside the Shelby's house, Thomas was the first one to wake up. Or rather, he did not sleep a wink at all. He lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling as he listened to the shovels and picks against the wall. And he prayed and prayed, and he hoped that the sun will come up with the curtains before they breakthrough. But sometimes, the sun beats them. But mostly, the shovel beats the sun.
It was peaceful downstairs when he got there, no shouting Arthur or John, no rowdy and playing children. Only their aunt Polly, drinking her tea and reading today's newspaper. She lifts her gaze as she noticed Thomas walking down the wooden hills. "Tea?" she asked to which her nephew nodded.
Polly then gathered a cup and hot water for the drink, Thomas silently sat down on the vacant chair, lighting up a cigarette. "I heard what happened last night," Polly began, word of mouths indeed travel fast. "Who's the woman? Another whore?" she added, making Thomas' lips twist into a wry smile.
"No, she's a strange... lady," Polly squinted her eyes as she noticed how her nephew smile at the mention of the woman.
"Careful now, Thomas Michael. Strange woman, they'll break your heart," his aunt warned.
"Can't break a broken one, aye?" before Polly could even reply, Arthur stormed inside the kitchen and shouted, "What do we 'ave for breakfast? I'm famished!"
"Shut up and wake your sister up," Polly muttered as she grabbed a pan to start cooking for the Shelby boys.
Once the brothers were all set and done, Thomas started the car's engine as they were on their way to Mercy's workplace. It was only 9 in the morning yet men were all lined up outside the shop, as soon as the Shelbys got out of the car, they cleared the way for the Kings of Small Heath.
Some blokes bid their greetings to the Peaky Blinders but most of them were scared to even look them in the eye.
When they got inside, Mercy welcomed the brothers with a raised eyebrow, "Told ya we'd pay a visit, luv," Arthur said with a playful smile on his lips. While Hubert and Robert were both surprised to see them as they usually get their hair done from McKinley's, a known barbershop in Small Heath.
The customers sitting on the barber chair quickly stood and gave their seats up for the Shelbys, "No, don't you dare. I'm not done with ya," Mercy stopped the young lad before he can even leave the seat.
"B-but... Mr. Shelby is waiting, my hair l-look's good, Ms. Byrne," the poor boy stammered as he fiddled with his fingers, trying to avoid Thomas' eyes from the mirror.
"You better sit down before I smack the bloody hell out of you, boy," Mercy threatened him before turning her face to Thomas, while the two Shelbys were laughing due to her sudden outburst.
"Can you wait for a few minutes, Mr. Shelby? Then I'll do your hair," Mercy asked politely, her eyes meeting his amused stares. He leaned forward to her and whispered, "Do you see me as a patient man, Ms. Byrne? But since it's you, I'll allow it."
Mercy felt all tingly when his breath touched her sensitive neck, the bruise from their fateful encounter slowly fading. She immediately moved backward and averted her gaze, embarrassed, her face flushing red.
"Are ya alright, luv?" Arthur raised his eyebrows, "Huh? Oh yeah, it's just hot in e're," the woman awkwardly laughed, returning her attention to the boy.
"Get your hair done, I'll wait for Ms. Byrne," Thomas instructed his brothers that just gave him a nod and shoulder shrug.
The leader of the Peaky Blinders never liked waiting, he wants to get things done fast. As a child, he believed that waiting is a waste of time, but it now seems that good things are worth waiting for.
He sat on the empty barber chair beside the quivering lad, who was obviously nervous. From the mirror, he watched each of her movements. From the way she snips the boy's hair to the way she squints her eyes to check if her cut is even. The woman was passionate about her work, which Thomas admired.
Thomas had then found himself in the touch of the strange woman as she worked her way to his stubble, casually shaving it. She was so close to him, her scent was lingering on his nose. It was not even spring yet she smelled like the sun, like fresh bloom of daisies.
He snapped out of his trance when the woman looked straight into his eyes, or maybe he was transported to another dimension. To another little world where the only two of them mattered.
"Mr. Shelby," and then he was back again, "Mr. Shelby, we're done," Mercy spoke for God knows how many times.
"Are we?"
"Yes, Mr. Shelby, now go along," the woman informed, Hubert told her earlier that the service was free of charge, simply because they are the Peaky Blinders and they won't risk the business to get burned down.
Thomas searched for coins in his pocket and placed them on Mercy's palm, "Here," he said.
"No, it's fine," Mercy's voice almost betrayed her, she actually thought that not them paying was kind of absurd. She tried to give it back but the man refused, she just gave up and put it in the money box.
"Can we take the lady out for a lunch?" John spoke with a toothpick in his mouth, of course, both the barbers and Mercy do not have that much option, do they?
"Definitely, Mr. Shelby," answered Hubert, filtering the uncertainty in his voice. "Then e'll be on our way, gents," Arthur grinned and nodded.
They let Mercy sit on the passenger side while the two brothers were at the back, "I heard you lot are going to the Cheltenham races," Mercy opened the conversation up.
"Aye, how'd ya know?" Arthur answered, "People talk, Arthur," she laughed and glanced at Thomas, to her surprise, their eyes met.
Before Thomas could even make a word out, John chimed in, "Then, can I 'ave the pleasure of yer company, Jen?" he formally asked with a smirk on his lips.
"You're asking me to go to Cheltenham with you, is that it?" he nodded abruptly, Thomas then stole a quick glimpse at the woman beside her, hoping that she'd turn down his brother's request, "Hmm, forgive me but I have hair to cut," a lopsided smile crept across Mercy's face.
"Yer me only resort to see a tolerable pretty woman there," John sighed before continuing, "'M sure the races is filled with obnoxious, posh girls from London," to which his older brother agreed.
"Ms. Burgess is coming along, isn't she?" Mercy innocently turned her face to John, making his eyes go wide in disbelief, "She's coming? Bloody 'ell..." he whispered and puckered his lips in annoyance.
The car suddenly stopped, "I thought we're going for lunch?" the woman asked as she got out of the vehicle, glancing at the pub. "What's better than a hot meal? An Irish whiskey," Arthur chuckled and went ahead, John following him.
"And here I thought I was the alcoholic one," the woman amusingly shrugged, "Are you hungry?" she looked at Thomas, "No, Mr. Shelby. Whiskey's fine with me, it's a close friend."
"How are you?" the man inquired, pertaining to what happened last night.
"I'm great, why'd you ask?"
Lies.
She wasn't able to sleep because of that. The thought of dying at that moment permanently scarred her for life.
"How did Billy Kimber know you?" he asked once more with a raised eyebrow, his face was calm.
"I don't even know that wanker. If I knew someone with that slick, gross hair, I would undoubtedly remember," Mercy tried her best not to stutter or make any small movements that would make her look suspicious, "Maybe, he mistook me for a whore. As a matter of fact, you all gobshites do," she changed the subject and rolled her eyes, a soft chuckle escaped Thomas' lips.
"Thank you, Mr. Shelby. If it wasn't for you, my tits would've been blasted off," she joked and smiled warmly, instead of avoiding his eyes, she bravely looked at it.
"I think we are passed through that point," Thomas muttered as he leaned against the car, bringing a cigarette close to his lips, "Passed where?" the woman took out her lighter and lights it for him.
"Call me Thomas," he answered, inhaling the smoke, and stared at Mercy.
"Why?"
"Because I want you to."
"Okay, Thomas."
He passed the cigar to the woman, gladly accepting it, and took a hit. "Call me also by my name then," Mercy whispered as she returned the stick to him, simply gazing his icy eyes to hers.
"Okay, Imogen."
For a moment, she had wished that he called her by her real name. But that was good enough. He drew a deep breath before throwing the cigar on the ground and stepped on it.
The pair walked inside The Garrison, earning looks from the barmaid, Mercy smiled at her before they went straight in the snug. Like last night, she sat beside the oldest Shelby, "What took ya so long?" instead of answering, her eyes flew to Thomas, who is now talking to the barmaid through the snug's window.
"Give me a bottle of Irish whiskey and four glasses," Thomas spoke in a casual tone as he knocked on the wood.
"Thomas, I'll have some dark rum," Mercy requested making Thomas turn his face to the woman, "Aye, you heard the lady," he said to the barmaid. "I've decided not to go to the races, not unless you give me another two pound, ten shillings towards the dress," Grace revealed with a noticeable smile on her face.
"I've already given you a three. Even if you go looking like a flower girl, what I want makes no difference. It's not me you're dressing up for," he remarked as he closed the window. He was about to sit down next to John when two young lads, dressed exactly like a blinder went inside the room.
"Aren't you both a lovely thing?" Mercy exclaimed and moved closer to them, "What's your name boy?" the woman asked, "My name's Finn Shelby, ma'am. This is my best friend, Isaiah," the youngest Shelby introduced with a toothy grin etched on his face.
The three brothers watched the interaction of Imogen with the peaky blinders junior with big smiles on their faces.
"She's beautiful," Isaiah whispered to his friend making him nod, "Silly things, I'm Imogen," she laughed when she heard their murmurings. "We know," the two said in unison, which made Imogen furrow her forehead in confusion.
"Oi, what are ya doing in e're?" Arthur butted in before the woman could even ask, "Right, aunt Polly's lookin for ya John!" Finn answered, causing John to sigh. "Let me 'ave a drink first, now go along," he poured the whiskey to his glass.
"Goodbye, Ms. Imogen," the young lads greeted and ran off the pub. She scooted back to her seat and grabbed her drink.
As she gulped down her rum, the door opened once more, revealing two tall men with a smudged look on their faces. "John, Arthur, take the lady and go," Thomas ordered with his stern voice.
They did not question him and followed their brother's order like good little toy soldiers they are. Mercy looked at Thomas one more time but he just gave her a slight nod.
Little did Thomas know, a little mouse was spying over their conversation.
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