STORM 🚬 PEAKY BLINDERS [on hold]

PROLOGUE

SMALL HEATH, BIRMINGHAM. 1914.

In the Birmingham town of Small Heath, lived a notorious Romani family that ruled the streets. The Shelby's. Known for cutting men and blinding them with the blades hidden in their caps, everyone feared the Shelby name. Everyone expected the worst from the lot of them. Except from little Clara Shelby.

She was an angel in a family of demons, a lone mop of wheat under the glare of sunrise in a sea of dark, with an air of innocence none before her had managed to maintain. But that was down to her family themselves, for they did their best to keep her from harm, wether it be their enemies or their own. Clara only knew what they needed her to and other than that she was just a normal ten year old girl.

But her effervescent smile wasn't present, not that night for she'd learned of her elder brothers unavoidable departure. The war was waging on and the Shelby's were due to be shipped out France alongside any other eligible soldiers under the King's orders.

"C'mon Clara-Girl, don't cry now."

The strawberry blonde sniffled, not pulling her head away from her hands, her gaze on the bottom of her bed. She knew her brothers were there. Arthur had been trying to cheer her up all afternoon but as night fell and the realisation that it was her last with the entire family for the foreseeable future, there was no consoling her.

Seeing his eldest brother wasn't having much luck, John moved to bunker down before her, trying to catch her gaze "Hey now, we'll be back before you know it." He raised his hands, using his thumb to swipe away as tear "And don't tell our Ada but we've took a vote and you're in charge of Finn until we come home, eh?"

That only brought a stifled sob from her and John sighed in defeat before getting up at Thomas' silent urge. The patriarch of the Shelby clan waited until his brother's had departed to check on their other siblings before he took a seat on his sister's bed, lounging back against the metal headboard and nudged her with his knee "Come here."

Even in her state, Clara knew not to disobey Thomas Shelby.

She shuffled up beside him, not bothering to wipe away her tears as she cuddled into his side "Tommy?"

"Yes?" He questioned, peering down at the girl as his hands softly stroked at her back.

"Do you miss Greta?"

The question had him still, heart clenching as he through of the girl. His girl. He'd spent the 3 months of her life at her bedside, holding her hand right up until the consumption stole her final breath. That had been five months ago "We'll always miss the ones we love, Clara-Girl."

She sniffled and raised her head to meet his gaze "Will you miss me?"

"Only until I return." He raised his hands to wipe away her tears, face softening at her red rimmed eyes "Because I will. We all will."

Clara nodded before biting her lip "Will you read to me?"

One last time.

Thomas swallowed the sudden lump in his throat before reaching over to the her bedside table and grabbing the old tattered book "Now, where we were?"

Clara pointed to where he had dog-eared the book the night before before taking note of just how much there was still to read "We won't be able to finish it, Tom..."

"We will." He assured, mostly for himself "When I return, we'll finish the book."

"Soon, right?" She queried, looking up to him hopefully "It'll be soon, won't it?"

He swallowed thickly before nodding "Before you know it."

But Thomas Shelby wouldn't return for four years, none of them would. And when they did, it wouldn't only be business that would be different, but everything about them. The war would change them and in turn change their family. But as they swapped the Somme for Small Heath, one thing wouldn't change, and that would be the Shelby family's protection of their Clara-Girl. If one soul in their family remained pure, hands clean of blood, by God they would make sure it was her.

Even if it killed them.