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↳ THE LEGEND SAYS: When God created snow,
he gave it the task of visiting the flowers of
the earth to gather colors. All the flowers
refused, until the snow visited the...
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DAYS HAD PASSED SINCE the wedding and things were starting to go back to normal. Tommy had caved and told Deborah everything about the deal with the Russians, including the Duchess who had delivered money to their home the night of the wedding. Deborah kept her opinions on the deal to herself and got on with her role in the business.
John and Arthur had collected her bright and early this morning and explained that they had a meeting to attend with the Vicente Changretta, leader of the Italian gang in Birmingham. They were currently waiting for the man in Charlie's yard, sitting at a table with tea and biscuits, while surrounded by mud and horse shit.
"You asked for a meeting out in the open. " Arthur spoke up, as the man stood in front of the table. "Fresh air and the fine aroma of shit. 'Neutral ground', you said."
"This is hardly neutral ground." Mr. Changretta said, face scrunched up in disgust.
"Well, it's what you've got." Arthur warned him and took a seat beside John. "So, por favivo, sit down."
Deborah, who stood in between the two men's chairs, leaning her hands against the back of each one, chuckled at Arthur's words. It wasn't the appropriate time but where they were currently situated, it fit perfectly.
"Where is Thomas?" Mr. Changretta asked, unamused.
"He got called away." Deborah informed him, making the old man's eyes turn to her.
"He said he'd be here." Mr. Changretta remarked.
"Yeah, he's busy." Arthur muttered, not impressed by his brother's sudden cancelation.
"She just told you he got called away. What do you want?" John questioned, diverting the conversation away from Tommy.
"There has been a peace between the Peaky Blinders and the Changretta family for two years now -" Mr. Changretta began.
"Do you want some tea or not?" John interrupted, gesturing to the table. "Here, Finn, pour the Italians some English tea. Go on."
"We don't want fucking tea!" Mr. Changretta exclaimed, stopping Finn in his tracks. "We want an explanation."
"Well, I'll have fucking tea." Arthur spoke up, reaching to pour himself a cuppa.
"Explanation for what, Mr. Changretta?" Deborah sighed, trying to keep the man calm. The two Shelby men were pushing their luck and without Tommy here, Deborah knew she had to take control of business.
"The Little Venice restaurant in Forge Street was burnt down." Mr. Changretta told them.
"No, no, couldn't have been us. We was at a wedding. Tommy and Deborah finally tied the knot." John announced, once again cutting off the older man.
