Wear Iron//Thomas Shelby

eleven

I knock on the door to Ada's apartment. She hasn't spoken to any of us since Freddie was arrested. She won't even talk to Polly.

"Ada, please open up," I tell her. She doesn't answer. "I brought more things for you and the baby. Got some fresh eggs and bread." Ada still won't say anything. "I'll leave it here. Ada, think of the little one. Babies don't have principles."

Tommy is waiting for me outside the building.

"Did you speak to her?" Tommy asks.

I nod. "She didn't speak back."

"Did you tell her?" Tommy questions.

"I've tried, Tommy," I assure him. "Whether she listens to me or not is something I can't control."

I head to the Shelby residence to speak with Polly. I nearly wee myself when Arthur walks through the door with his dear old Dad. Even in her shock Arthur manages to piece together some food for his father.

"Thank you. You're a good boy," Arthur Sr tells Arthur Jr. "Bless the father for these bounties we're about to receive..."

"Jesus Christ," Polly remarks.

"Please, woman, not in vain," Arthur Sr tells her.

"Finish your sandwich and sling your hook," Polly states.

"Polly Anna, I'm a guest of the head of this family. So why don't you maybe tend to your mangle or your scuttle?" Arthur Sr remarks.

"The head of the family ain't here," John states.

Arthur Sr looks at Arthur curiously.

"Tommy, Uh. Sometimes helps me with, uh, with business, Dad," Arthur explains.

As if on cue the front door opens and Tommy walks in.

"Aye, well, speak of the devil." Arthur Sr stands up. "How are you, son?"

"Get out," Tommy demands.

"Come on, son." Arthur Sr holds his arms out. "I'm a changed man."

"This family needed you 10 years ago. And you walked out on us," Tommy states. "Not now. Get out of this house."

"Tommy, he's different," Arthur insists.

"Shut up," Tommy tells him.

"It's all right, son," Arthur Sr says. "Arthur Shelby never stays where he's not welcome." He looks at Polly. "Quite something you've become." He ruffles Finn's hair as he walks by. "Bye, son."

"He's our dad," Arthur states.

Tommy sighs. "He's a selfish bastard."

"You calling someone a selfish bastard? It's a bit rich, Tommy," Arthur remarks. "I mean, thanks to you, we're already down a bloody sister."

"You want to see him, Arthur?" Tommy asks as he points to the door. "You want to see him? You go with him."

Arthur stands up and steps towards Tommy before walking out the door.

I stand behind the bar at the Garrison. Tommy is standing across from me with a glass of whiskey.

"Why do you still work here, Hel?" Tommy asks.

"Are you going to give me a raise?" I counter.

Tommy smiles slightly. We're interrupted when a man approaches Tommy.

"Mr Shelby?"

"Who's asking?" Tommy counters.

"My name's Byrne," the man says introducing himself, "I had word from your man in Camden town you wanted a parley."

"Then parley it is," Tommy says.

"Few months ago, a man named Ryan came to this place with a view to buying some goods from you. Mr Ryan met with an accident, he was shot," Byrne says.

"I heard," Tommy tells him.

"He was a man with a quick mouth. I know that. Wondered if he made any enemies in here?" Byrne says.

"None that I know of," Tommy assures him.

"Not the kind of place to make enemies," Byrne states.

"All are welcome here, Mr Byrne," Tommy tells him.

"Including Irish?" Byrne asks.

"Oh, especially Irish," Tommy jokes.

"Ryan told you he was a member of the Irish Republican Army. Was he still welcome?" Byrne asks.

"Like I say. Any man who buys beer is welcome," Tommy states.

"Perhaps you didn't believe him?" Byrne offers.

"In pubs, sometimes people say things. Sometimes it's the whisky talking. It's hard to tell which is which," Tommy offers.

"As a teetotal man, I find that amusing. Except when it ends in tragedy," Byrne says.

"Would you like some water and cordial, Mr Byrne?" Tommy asks.

"You see, Mr Shelby, Ryan, for all his quick mouth, was indeed connected. Very well connected to our brotherhood. By membership in blood. He was my cousin," Byrne explains. "I'm from South Armagh. I'm a man of influence there. Cordial and water will be grand, Mr Shelby."

"Grace, bring some water and cordial," Tommy instructs. "Come this way."

"Yes, Mr Shelby," Byrne says.

I listen through the window shutters.

"My cousin came to buy guns," Byrne says.

"And I told him I have none," Tommy explains.

"Your man Danny Owen talks a lot when he's drunk. He says the Peaky Blinders do have the guns, brought from the factory down the road. He boasted about a stack of Lewis machine guns, and enough belts of ammunition to hold up God's trousers," Byrne informs Tommy.

"Yup, that sounds like our Danny," Tommy remarks. "He has an imagination. Like I say, sometimes it's the whisky does the talk."

"He says only your brothers know where the guns are kept," Byrne states.

"Well, Danny also says he sees German infantrymen on the back of mill carts. And he shoots them with his broomstick," Tommy tells him.

"We have men in the BSA factory," Byrne informs Tommy. "They said you has 'em. And we have men that work in the police station. Every finger, Mr Shelby... Every finger in this city points in one direction. Please don't mistake me for a fool. Let me get to the point. I don't care what kind of half-arsed tinker operation you have going here. But I can assure you, I represent a very different category of organisation. My cousin was shot. I am judge, jury, and executioner. I find you guilty and I pass sentence. You deliver the guns to me, or I deliver death and hell's fury to you, and your little tribe of heathens. Am I making myself clear?"

"Let me confess something to you, and only to you," Tommy tells him. "I have the guns, but they have become a burden to me. Perhaps it is time to unload that burden. For the right price."

I walk into the private room after Byrne leaves.

"You're not really going to sell him the guns, are you?" I ask.

"You were eavesdropping," Tommy states.

I nod my head. "Which shouldn't surprise you." The corners of Tommy's mouth turn up slightly. "Please tell me you aren't going to sell him the guns."

"No," Tommy tells me. I smile slightly. "I'm going to use the guns as bait."