Tommy Shelby X OC

Chapter 1

The sound of my heels echoed through Watery Lane as I made my way through the soot and smoke to my most recent job interview. I looked down at the papers in my hand, recommendations from jobs I'd had prior to the war. The bakery, the grocers, the hospital. It should have been easy to find a new job, but my search had proved difficult, nobody could afford to hire extra staff anymore. This interview would be my fourth since being home.
I took one last drag of my cigarette before tossing it on the ground and pushing open the door to the bookmakers.

"Sorry I'm late," the voice came from the door of the small office I'd been ushered to upon arrival. The place was buzzing with excitement, cash exchanging hands, men patting each other's backs, whispering names of horses, dogs and football teams, each of them with a cigarette hanging limp from their lips.
I stood to shake hands with the man who'd walked in. I knew of him, of course, everyone did, but we'd never met.
  "Dolores Williams, everyone calls me Dolly." Striking blue eyes met my dark ones as I outstretched my hand.
  "Tommy. Can you read, Dolly?" He shook my hand quickly before lighting his cigarette and falling back into his chair. He didn't look at me, instead he closed his eyes and sighed a long, hard sigh.
  "Yes sir, I can read, write and count. I rather favour numbers, actually." After my time nursing in the war, I craved normality, the simplicity of numbers would be like a holiday for me.
  "I need a secretary, Dolly. Not a mathematician." He looked at me this time, like he was already done with this conversation.
  "The ad said-" I started, but cleared his throat, cutting me off. He leaned forward to put out his cigarette and rubbed his hand across his face.
  "That's why I need a new secretary, I need someone who listens, who'll get my ad's correct next time, I need someone I can trust." He gestured toward the papers in my hand and I passed them over, already guessing he wouldn't be impressed.
  "I was in France during the war, that's why there's no recent employment." He looked up, then back down at the papers before dropping them on the table.
  "Be here tomorrow, 7 o'clock." He picked up another bundle of papers and our meeting was over.
  "Thank you, Mr Shelby." I said, reaching across the desk for my papers.
  "Don't thank me, you're on a trial run. Do anything wrong, you'll know about it." I nodded and scrambled to get out of his office.

Once I got back out into the cold, I let out the breath I'd been holding since Thomas Shelby had walked into that office. I had a feeling this was the start of something either brilliant or deadly.