Peaky Blinders One Shots

4. The Shelbys

In the evening Harry came in and stood in front of me, flustered.

"You've got to come with me, Grace. Mr Shelby has asked for you. Hurry." he motioned for me to get up.

"Mr Shelby? How did he know where to find me? Why does he want to see me?" I got up and smoothed my dress. My heart was hammering. I wanted to keep a low profile. My plans did not include being summoned by the Shelby's on my first day here.

"They conduct business out of the parlour most days. It is all three of them in there right now. Be respectful, they run the place. Answer any questions they have..." he kept instructing me till we were outside the parlour door.

I took a deep breath and knocked.

"Come in." came the muffled voice from inside.

I walked and found three men on the L-shaped sofa. The eldest of them was seated in front of me and was looking right at me, while the one who looked to be the younger than the first man, was lighting a cigarette.

The third man was sitting adjacent to me. I could not get a good look at him but I knew this was the man I had seen on the street yesterday. He was reading the paper while holding a cigarette in his other hand. All of them were dressed similarly in shades of grey and newsboy caps.

"You're the lass everybody is so fascinated by." the eldest said with a grin as he looked me up and down.

I felt even more self-conscious with his gaze lingering a beat too long on me. It wasn't a question so I didn't say a word.

"What's your name girl?" the younger one nodded to me.

"Grace, Mr Shelby," I answered. My voice did not waver much to my surprise. It sounded almost strong.

The man I saw in the car yesterday did not say a word or react to my presence in the room at all. Still immersed in the paper I presumed, I dared not sneak a glance.

"You're clearly not from around here. You don't look like you belong. You dress like one of those snooty ones and speak with that posh accent. This isn't exactly the place a girl like you gets washed up at so what's your story?" the youngest spoke again.

"I am grateful to any place that provides me with employment in these tough times," I said trying hard to maintain a neutral tone.

"Are you a whore, Grace?"

 It was him that spoke now, the man from yesterday. The man with the razor-sharp gaze.

My head automatically snapped in his direction as I tried to keep up my facade.

He looked up and met my eyes. They were the same liquid aqua eyes that seemed to hold the world's secrets in them. He folded the paper and put it beside him on the sofa all the while his eyes didn't look away from mine.

"No, Mr Shelby." I managed to choke out.

He extinguished his cigarette butt in the ashtray and lit another one.

"Then this is no place for a girl like you. You should go back to where you've come from," he said. His voice was deep, measured and arresting.

I can't, I thought to myself. I wish I could but all my bridges have been burnt is what I wanted to say. Instead, I said,

"If it is of no consequence to you Mr Shelby then I would like to stay. As I told Harry, I've had formal education and I could prove to be a useful asset. I'm helping him with his books"

"So you're one of those pompous ones eh?" the youngest one asked me. I could tell they were both clearly amused by my predicament, except for him.

I could not make out what he was thinking and he didn't seem to partake in the kind of humour his brothers shared.

"Keep yourself out of trouble girl, if you want to last here." the eldest one warned me and lit himself a cigarette.

"I'll keep that in mind, Mr Shelby," I said as demurely as I could manage.

"Send Harry back in," he said dismissing me. I walked out and found Harry behind the counter waiting for me to emerge out of the parlour.

"What happened? What did they want to know?" he asked eagerly.

"Just the general. They want you in there now." I told him and he jumped out and went into the parlour. He came out a few moments later.

"They want you to serve them some whisky," he said as he neared me and hastily set out three glasses and a bottle from the shelf.

"Me? But I-" I tried saying but he cut me off and pushed me towards the parlour.

"You don't question their orders you follow them. Now go."

I carried the tray in. They seemed to be in a heated discussion as I placed the tray down and started to pour the whisky.

"... and I am supposed to know this stuff, Arthur!" the youngest one exclaimed.

"The car is in the garage if you want to take it out, John. Talk to Al tomorrow." the one whose name I hadn't found out said in a measured voice holding a hand up to the eldest one who was apparently called Arthur.

I walked out without a word intending to keep the interaction minimal. Harry was serving a few other patrons as I got behind the counter.

"I could use a hand around here serving if you want to help," he said.

I nodded. This wasn't as bad as I had envisioned it to be.

"What is the name of the one other than John and Arthur?" I inquired.

"That is Mr Thomas Shelby. He is the big boss 'round here. Served in France and won scores of medals. Be careful around him. And remember everythin' is on the house for them. When they ask you to do something you simply do it, no questions asked."

I nodded and continued helping him. Thomas Shelby, I turned over his name in my mind for the rest of the evening.