Wear Iron//Thomas Shelby

nineteen

The Shelbys are having interviews trying to hire men to bring to London. The door opens and a young man walks in. He looks nervous as he takes his hat off.

"All right then. Name?" I ask.

"The Digbeth Kid," the man says.

"The Dig... What are you? A boxer?" Arthur asks.

"Digbeth Kid, like Billy the Kid," the man explains.

"Spend a lot of time at the pictures, eh?" Tommy remarks. "Cowboy pictures? Tom Mix? Yeah?"

The Digbeth Kid nods as he reaches for a gun in his hip holster. Arthur and John both reach for their own.

"What are you...?" Arthur shouts.

"Wait, wait. It's not a real gun," The Digbeth Kid tells them.

"Let's have a look then, eh?" Tommy says as he stands up.

"It's made of wood," The Digbeth Kid explains.

Tommy laughs as he pulls the gun from the holster. He smiles as he holds it at Arthur. "Bang. Bang. Very nice. Where did you get the gun belt?"

"My sister made it out of an old blacksmith's apron. My mum did most of the stitching. She's not my real mum but..." The Digbeth Kid says.

"She does what mothers do," Tommy states. "So she made you a gun belt."

"All right there, mother's boy. There's the door, on you go. We're looking for..." Arthur starts.

Tommy holds his hand silencing Arthur. "Have you ever been arrested?"

"Yeah," The Digbeth Kid says.

"Yeah?" Tommy asks.

The Digbeth Kid shakes his head. "No."

"Good. You're the first bloke we've had in here today with no criminal record," Tommy says. "Arthur, we can stand him up. Do you know what that means?" The Digbeth Kid shakes his head no. "The new Home Secretary wants something done about illegal gambling."

"Damn right," John says as she snakes his hand down on the table.

"About bloody time," Arthur remarks.

"So, we help our coppers make their quota of convictions by having men stood up to be arrested. First offence, you'll get a week inside. We'll give you five quid for your trouble. How does that sound, cowboy?" Tommy tells him.

"Yeah," The Digbeth Kid says as he nods his head.

"Write your address down for Finn on your way out," I tell him.

"I can't write," The Digbeth Kid tells me.

"That's all right, Finn can't read," John tells him.

"Don't worry. Just tell him your address and we'll send someone round," Tommy says.

"If the Sheriff don't run you out of town first," John says.

"Oh, I don't know, Tom. Kids these days," Arthur says once The Digbeth Kid leaves the room.

"They didn't fight. So, they're different. They stay kids," Tommy reasons.

As we walk into the Shelby house John, Arthur, and Theo are messing around.

"Get out of town, kid, or I'll shoot your fucking head off! Times up!" Arthur shouts. "You're dead, go down. John!"

As I step into the house behind Tommy, I spot her sitting at the dining table with her son of all people. Arthur, Theo, and John put their guns away.