Bloodsport ; tommy shelby

𝒕𝒆𝒏 - matters of the heart

Iris had come down with an awful cold in the days following Christmas, and had been bedridden for almost a week. Truth be told, she had been a little rattled and on edge recently, which had given her the urge to retreat to her flat. But today was New Years Eve, and as a member of the Shelby Company Ltd, it was Iris' duty to help set up the Garrison for a party later on.

Iris yawned as she pushed open the door to the Shelbys' pub. Ada and Polly were standing over at the bar as Harry the barman hung up a homemade sign that read '1918'.

"You know it's going to be 1919 in less than twelve hours, don't you Harry?" Iris smiled as she walked in.

Polly and Ada laughed as Harry rolled his eyes. "Just wait," he said. "Be patient, ok, look—" he pulled on a string on the side, and the eight that was painted onto the canvas material in black flipped over into a nine. He looked back at the girls from where he stood on his ladder behind the bar with a proud grin. "Isn't it great?"

"Really great, Harry," Polly laughed, and Ada giggled. "Except the nine is upside-bloody-down you big idiot."

Ada and Polly burst out laughing as Harry looked in disbelief at where his mechanism had gone wrong.

"It's the thought that counts, love," Ada laughed, and Harry rolled his eyes back with a smile.

Polly looked over at Iris, surveying the girl's dark circles and slightly dishevelled appearance.

"You look like you need a drink," Polly said, passing Iris one of her dark liquorice cigarettes.

"You look tired," Ada noted as Harry went off into the next room. Polly went behind the bar and poured the girl a whiskey.

"Was Tommy over?" Polly smirked.

"Pol!" Ada wrinkled her nose.

"Sorry, sorry," Polly chuckled, pushing Iris her drink across the bar.

"He wasn't, I haven't actually seen anyone since Christmas," Iris said, lighting her cigarette.

"What actually happened on Christmas Eve?" Ada inquired, a little curious now. "I'm assuming the worst."

Iris knocked back her whiskey. "You should," she said simply, taking a puff of her cigarette.

There was a moment of silence before Polly spoke.

"You know, there's something different about you, Iris," she said.

There could've been a hint of suspicion in Polly's voice, but Iris kept her cool.

"What do you mean?" Iris asked.

"Tommy looks at you like he's met his match," Polly told her. "And I know my nephew well enough to know there aren't many minds or souls that he respects enough to consider his equal."

Iris almost felt like crying. Everything was so good, and she'd just been at home in a state of paranoia for the past week. Would she ever be able to get over that feeling and allow herself to be happy?

"You look at him the same, too," Polly noted.

"Pol's always right in matters of the heart, aren't you Pol?" Ada smiled at her aunt with admiration.

"Too right I am," the woman chuckled.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Iris feigned nonchalance. "I've been told I'm a difficult person to read."

"So is Tommy, but I know him better than anyone," Polly insisted. "And you look at him the same way he looks at you."