CHAPTER ONE.
EVERYONE IN SMALL HEATH had heard of the Shelby brothers. It didn't matter what you did, how you had come to reside in the dusty borough of Birmingham, or even if you had little to no chance of bumping into one of the infamous brothers - so long as you had half an ounce of common sense in your body, you knew to avoid the Shelby family and the gang that walked alongside their name: the Peaky Blinders.
No matter how many times her father had tried to raise her to fear very few individuals - and to trust even fewer - Felicity Woods couldn't help the overwhelming dread that would fill her being whenever she were to overhear their voices or pass them in the streets. She was very much aware of the silver razor blades that had been sewn into their caps, and from the stories of horror that came with their namesake. Splatters of blood were not often found on walls of the pubs like so many women claimed they were, but that was only because everyone knew better than to attempt to cross the fiercely violent gang. Felicity had never spoken with a single one of the brothers and for that she was grateful - even if part of the reason for that was because not only had she been forbidden by her father to do such a thing, she was also so much to afraid to do anything but smile meekly and hurry to the opposite side of the street if she were to ever cross Thomas Shelby's path.
As Felicity Woods crossed the street, she was careful to glance both ways in case she were to walk upon the path of another person, or even a dark, raven-black horse who's back the second eldest Shelby brother had been seen upon in previous times, when the man was trying the final trick in the book in order to secure the horse's luck at the races. That's what he was, supposedly: an illegal bookmaker. Coppers on his payroll. Women at his feet. Everyone turning a blind eye to the silver, shining razor blade that glinted in his cap, as though it didn't exist, as though it hadn't cut a smile on anyone that looked at him the wrong way.
"Morning, Woods!"
A smile grew upon Felicity's lips as she crossed the street with a skip in her step, making her way over to the boys that had called her name. "Morning!" She called back joyfully.
The tallest of the group straightened up to converse with the girl. "Shitty day, isn't it?"
"It could be a hell of a lot worse." Felicity shrugged and shook her blonde curls roughly.
"You're kidding."
Felicity chewed her lip thoughtfully before laughing. "Not in the slightest," she replied, "people are forever looking for the glimmer of sunshine in the midst of a shower of rain, aren't they? What's the difference in looking for the hope in life, rather than only blinking through those thick, dismal eyelashes of yours and complaining of the clouds?"
"I'm just seeing the world how it is, that's all," the boy grumbled lowly, seemingly embarrassed at being scolded by the young woman who stood with confidence in front of him.
"Well," Felicity smiled, very much aware that she appeared to have the upper hand in their feeble argument... if it could even be called such a thing. "I prefer to see it how it could be."
It was a way of life that had gotten her through her first twenty two years in the world, and to Felicity Woods, she would not be giving up her mirage of optimism and her tendency to offer smiles to each and every being that she skipped past. With her years of growing up alongside shouts and yells that came from her father's business and family meetings, Felicity had grown to despise the sound of anger and frustration. It often upset her, which was one of the many reasons she knew she could never work alongside the rest of her siblings in Woods Limited, because she simply did not have the insensitivity and ability to pass off violence and anger as though it was nothing but a mere, rather familiar emotion. Felicity Woods felt everything too deeply for her own good, but she would rather than not feel a single thing at all.
"Fuck off," the boy muttered, "you are telling me that you can see the sunshine and all that crap in this place we call home? Get out, Felicity Woods, you liar."
She snorted with disbelief. "It isn't as hard as you lazy fuckers think, y'know."
With the smallest shake of her head, Felicity brought the cigarette back up to her lips and inhaled deeply, drawing in the bitter aroma and feeling her lungs fill with warmth. As she turned on her heel, away from the factory boys, she expelled the smoke back into the frosty, late October air and did not watch it as it drifted away in silvery trails. Felicity only continued on her way along the street, into the factory that was only a metre away from where she had been conversing with the miserable males. She had one aim, and that was to see the boy she had known since her childhood.
"Lis?" A deep voice called from above her as Felicity entered the building.
A smile grew upon her lips and she looked up to see the boy making his way down the rickety, wrought iron steps.
"Jack!" Felicity replied happily, rushing to him to close the distance between them once he was on the ground floor and beaming at her. A hint of surprise was clear on his face as she had not warned him that she would be making such a sudden appearance, but truth be told, she had not thought it would make such a difference. With long hours and a tendency to slave away behind a machine longer than was legally required of him - for reasons Felicity could only assume had something to do with him not being keen on going hungry during the colder months of the year - her childhood best friend was hardly likely to pull Felicity Woods out of the door and talk with her for what would feel like an eternity... no matter if that was what they did in their earlier years of life.
"What are you doing here?" He exclaimed breathlessly.
Felicity shrugged with a grin taking over her features. "I just wanted to say hello."
"Well, hello." The boy couldn't help but smile as he released her from his embrace, holding her out at an arm's length and swooping his eyes over her small body. "My God, Lissy, you've grown!" He teased.
She returned his quip with a tight-lipped smile of her own. "Shut it, Jacky," she returned, using his old childhood nickname just as he was using hers.
Jack only laughed. "How've you been?"
"The same as bloody always. Bored out of my mind."
The pair spent the next five minutes sharing laughter and mocking words and for that small space of time, it was as though they hadn't spent a second apart from each other. It was as though they were best friends again, with the same old nicknames and jokes and everything that was of their friendship. Everything felt perfect.
Until the doors on the other side of the factory slammed open and four men stood in its threshold.
"Freddie Thorne?"
Beside her, a gasp left Jack's lips and before Felicity could register what was going on, he grabbed her hand and spun her towards him, so that they were facing one another properly once again.
"Get out," Jack hissed, "go out the back door and don't come back. Not today, at least."
Felicity pulled a face that mirrored the confusion that was surging through her person. "What's happening?"
He tugged her further towards the door roughly. "Coppers," Jack explained hurriedly, "looking for communists. You need to go, Lis."
"Jack!" Felicity continued to protest as his fingers fumbled for the latch on the back door, "You're not making any sense! Why would they come here?"
"You heard them: they're looking for Freddie Thorne. Now get out, Lis, before they realise the bloody door is open."
She hadn't heard him speak in such a serious manner before, not since those five years ago, when he told her he would be sent to France. Seventeen years old, they were. He was closer to adulthood than she was, because his birthday fell on a date that was seven months earlier than hers. Maybe that was how he always seemed so much more grownup than she did. Or maybe it was the exhausted expression that was forever etched into his face and the inky black stains on his hand that were now present in the dull light of the greying October day.
"I'll see you later?" Felicity asked.
Jack nodded, although his face gave away the uncertainty that wasn't in his words. "Soon," he promised.
Felicity ignored the doubt in his eyes and instead made her way out of the door as the factory filled with confused and enraged shouts. She forced a spring into her step as she walked back down the road, past where the huddle of boys were, where she had been so sure of the day and so certain that nothing could go wrong.
She still didn't realise just how much more could go wrong, though, and perhaps that was Felicity Woods' greatest mistake as she caught sight of the cold blue eyes that met her own.
Haunted. That was the only way Felicity could think to properly describe the cerulean blue irises that gazed back into her hazel ones. They were cold and calculating, sure, but those eyes held more horrors and stories than Felicity could even care to imagine.
"Sorry, Mr Shelby." Felicity bobbed her head as she tried to dodge his gaze and sidestep around the man.
"You're the Woods girl, aren't you?" Thomas asked as she passed him.
Her breath caught in her throat as she stopped and turned on her heel to face him. "That's right," she confirmed hesitantly.
"Off to see your father, then?"
Felicity refrained from pulling a face at his words - instead choosing to shake her head with a tight, wary smile on her lips as she wondered why he was even bothering to converse with her when he had hardly even walked past her in previous years. "No, Mr Shelby. I'm afraid I hardly see him these days."
"Oh?" The man sounded almost sincere as he coupled his tone with the fleeting look of no-doubt forced sympathy and interest onto his face, "That's a shame, I suppose."
"Is it?"
Thomas looked amused at the words that had just escaped out of the girl's lips. "I was just going to ask how he is, that's all," he said, before clarifying, "... your father, that is."
The blonde nodded: acting as though she had any understanding of why on earth he was suddenly so interested in John Woods, when really she hadn't the slightest idea. "Well, I'm sorry I can't be of more help," she apologised feebly.
"Don't be," Thomas affirmed, tilting his head in the familiar way that everyone did when they were either confused or pitying your naivety.
Felicity bobbed her head in a nod once again - unsure why but feeling as though there was nothing else she could do in her awkward state. "Well, goodbye," she said, turning away from him and continuing on her way down the darkening street.
She held her breath the entire time, for she was unreasonably terrified that all of the stories about the infamous gangster and his accomplices would then be proved to be true.
Yet Thomas Shelby didn't utter a single syllable as he walked away in the opposite direction, leaving Felicity Woods to wonder whether or not she had just imagined their entire exchange.
The pounding in her heart told her no.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
firstly , this chapter is awful. it really is.
i despise my writing and this is the rewrite
for god's sake !! well , it's better than the
first draft so i'm glad about that , i'm ngl.
also i'm feeling incredibly proud that i
actually had the motivation to even try
and rewrite this book - although it might
be because i'm currently avoiding all my
homework. oh well. i'm responsible like
that. hope you enjoyed this , let me know
what you think lmao bc i'm off to go and
get emotionally attached to jackson
rippner again </3