Heavy is the Head ||A Peaky Blinder Fanfic||

7| The Return of the Blinder Outfit

Outside Tommy's house, Mollie May walked briskly to where everyone had left their cars. She found the one she was looking for easily and fed the hose pipe into the fuel tank. She sucked on the pipe, creating a vacuum which sucked the petrol out of the tank. Then dropping the hose into the barrel, she waited for the tank to run dry, before screwing the lid onto the barrel and rolling it away.

Mr. Guardo wouldn't be leaving the party anytime soon.

Then, she headed to the stables, checking her watch again anxiously. Nobody was around so Mollie May guessed the men must have cleared out a while ago. She ran her hand over a black stallion, his breath blowing puffs in the rapidly colling air. Nobody would see her on the black horse at night.

She climbed on and cantered towards the forest, her silky dress and growing chestnut hair billowing behind her. She would definitely have to get her hair cut soon, she thought as the breeze chilled her ears and cheek. She arrived and dismounted in a small clearing and surveyed the area, looking for the best places to bury the mines she made yesterday and then returned to the house to change at 7:45.

Back in the house, the party continued to rage. More and more people stumbled around the dancefloor, slopping their drinks everywhere. The ragtime played by the band on the small stage provoked more and more people to join in and eventually everyone had completely forgot their dignity and danced like wild animals.

One man however, sat calmly at one of the tables, cigar in hand. His suit was clean and freshly pressed and his expensive shoes tapped the floor to the beat of the music. Mr. Guardo was here on 'business'. He was to meet a young woman at eight o'clock precisely. He checked his watch, five minutes.

Mr. Guardo was always praised for being very punctual, so he got up and headed to the clearing in the forest where the meeting had been arranged.

"Mollie May!" Arthur laughed as he seen her enter the stable. She didn't answer him, or even acknowledge him so he walked over to her to press further. "Yo, Mollie May, what's up." He paused, taking in her clothes, "Holy fuck, why are you wearing that?" he looked down at her old peaky blinder outfit, the tweed suit, white shirt and long black coat. She hadn't worn it since before the war. Arthur wasn't even sure she still had it.

"Mollie, what are you doing?" he breathed cautiously, for Mollie May still hadn't spoken, her eyes hidden below the fedora hat tilted over her face.

"Talk to me. What's happened, Mollie May?" She looked up at him and Arthur wished he hadn't asked her anything, for the venom and poison swirling in her bright blue eyes had turned them dark and cold and unloving.

He stepped back. He wasn't afraid of her, knowing he could overpower her in a fight, but she was dangerous when she was like this.

He grabbed the reins of the horse she was going for and held out his hand for her to stop. "No, leave it. Whatever it is you're going to do, don't!" It was bad if he was the one telling her this.

"Move." She growled lowly at him, but he stayed planted to the spot. "Move!" she repeated louder this time, pulling out her gun and pointing it in his face. "Mollie May, don't do this." He said again, growing desperate.

"I have to!" she yelled at him, "I want to." She finished in a whisper.

Arthur looked into her swirling eyes again, the dark and light bits engaged in their own battle. He pushed her gun down slowly.