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

24| Bang!

The next morning, Mollie May headed to Tommy's house in a rush. She caught him just as he was about to get in his car. She climbed out of hers and he looked over to her, groaning when he seen her stalking towards him. "Mollie May," he greeted her with a fed-up tone.

She nodded at him and then held out a black bag for him to take. Tommy looked down at it hesitantly and then pulled it from her to open it. Inside he found ten sticks of dynamite. "I asked for fifty." He told her giving her the bag and getting into his car, but she stopped him before he could close the door.

"There not for the train." She told him lowly, holding out the bag again. "There for the tunnel, incase you hit clay or rock." Tommy paused, his icy blue eyes travelling to meet hers. Then he nodded and took the bag before muttering a thanks. "I need you to go to the factory and look through the files of all the workers." She ran her tongue along her teeth and looked out over the landscape.

"I want you to chose six people; four including the driver and the stoker." She shook her head and turned her gaze back to him, "You want me to pick the people I'm going to kill." "Look, if you're not going to do it, I'll get Arthur or John to do it."

She looked into his eyes, trying to study his thoughts, "Are you ever going to trust me again?" Tommy dropped his gaze and pulled out a cigarette, hesitant to answer the question. If he told her yes, he would be lying, yet if he told her no, he'd lose the greatest munition expert in Birmingham. "I dunno."

She seemed unsatisfied with his answer, "What do I need to do?" Again, Tommy paused, thinking of a reasonable answer. "Blow up the train." Mollie May nodded and he could basically see a slither of happiness growing in her eyes. He turned to leave, dumping the ten sticks of dynamite in the back and then drove off, leaving Mollie May to watch him leave.

From Tommys house she went straight to the factory. It was not an enjoyable job, having to read over the files of innocent men and then sort them into two piles. One was considerably less than the other and consisted of only six files.

She collected the six files and walked down to the train. It loomed over her as she walked along beside it, running her hand along the cold steel. It blocked out the sun coming through the windows and she couldn't help but look over it as if it was already a grave.

"Mollie May," Arthurs voice startled her and she glanced at him over her shoulder. "What are you doing here?" She handed him the six files and he flicked through them, taking him a while to realise what they were for. Then it clicked in his head and he looked over at the woman standing beside the train.

"You don't, uh, you didn't have to do that. I'll do it. Me and John." She shook her head and he went to join her at the train, leaning against it to listen to what she had to say. "Tommy wants me to do it. He, eh. He said if I do it, he might try to trust me again." She paused with a half-hearted smile, "And anyway, I'm happy enough to do it. I mean, this is what I do. This is my job."

Arthur nodded sadly at her and she smirked, "Don't give me that pity look. I know you don't want to do it anyway. Sure, you're the missionary now. We gotta keep you clean." Her smirk grew wider as she punched his shoulder playfully, making him smile and pull her into a sort of hug. He let her go then and her eyes flicked up to his fedora. "So, you and John both going for the fedora?" he hummed a yes.

"I can't help but notice that I was wearing one first, which technically means you copied my style. Whose idea was it?" Arthur laughed, "John Boys idea." Mollie May raised her eyebrows and nodded, "Hm, I'll be sure to rub that in his face. That he's now taking style advice from me. I have to say though, the fedora suits me a lot better." She grinned, taking Arthurs hat and setting it on her head.