𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 ➵ M. Gray

Chapter One.

Elizabeth lay in silence, listening to the sound of men walking past, of to their shift. The sun was slithering through the rotten curtains of her parent's old house that she inherited. When she arrived late last night, she wasn't sure what state the house would be in, and much to her own surprise it was a lot better than she anticipated.

She did not miss Small Heath, Birmingham In the slightest. She lay in bed thinking to herself why on earth she felt the need to come back. She had an amazing life in New York, or so she thought. She had the freedom of the entire city, her job working at one of the banks, although not ever seen as she would be in the back office doing administrative duties, but it paid well. She had her lovely apartment which was only a block away, so it would never take her long to walk. She sighs thinking about her morning walk, always bumping into the same handsome guy in his shirt and slacks on the corner, always having polite conversation before moving on with their day. Elizabeth rolls her eyes knowing full well she was not going to get the same treatment in the tiny town here in Birmingham.

Her understanding, from what the taxi driver was letting on at 10.30pm the previous night, was that the Shelby's still basically ran Small Heath, and even Birmingham. She hadn't been away long, a year and a half at most, yet so much had changed. You see, Elizabeth's parents were, friends of the Shelby's shall we say. Her father used to help them out, with what, she was unsure of. Where as her brother, Robbie Jnr, was a Peaky Blinder himself. If she could go back in time, she would curse at him for taking that route in life. She new that if he worked hard enough he could of gotten out of Small Heath, but instead it swallowed him whole.

She new she would have to get on with her day, find herself a small job to settle into as she would be staying her for the foreseeable future. She had to at least be able to feed herself, even though she had money saved up, a little extra wouldn't hurt. Elizabeth finally gets of bed, and goes to walk out of the room, before turning back and opening the curtains.

Thomas Shelby stood out in the crisp air of Small Heath, waiting on his brother Arthur.

"Fucking late" he hisses to himself. He had important business to attend too and was not in the patient mood. His cigarette hung from his mouth, his hands in his pockets as he lent against his car, looking up and down the street. He looked across at the Patterson's house. He hadn't stepped foot in that house for over a year and a half after Robert and Margaret died. Elizabeth and Robert Jnr's parents. Thomas shakes his head at the thought, still glancing at the house. All the curtains were shut and no lights on, except for the curtains in the top left bedroom. Fucking Robbie he thought, thinking of the elder brother out of the two Patterson siblings, thinking he had walked out on his fairly new wife for a 'snow' binge. Finally Arthur comes strolling up the street, a cigarette also hanging from his mouth.

"Sorry Tommy Sorry" he murmurs before letting himself in the car. Tommy throws his cigarette to the floor, before also getting into the car and letting Arthur drive to their destination.

Elizabeth could hear a car engine start and drive off, wanting to be nosy as to who could afford a car in Small Heath intrigued her, but the car was far off around the corner before she could even see it. Not quite knowing what to do with her day, she looks around the mouldy old living room and her 3 suitcases she bought back with her. Shaking her head, pins her auburn hair back out of her face, and starts to the tackle the house, room by room, so that it was more than comfortable to actually reside in.

***

Elizabeth placed her keys in the lock, and turned towards the street. She knew exactly where to head for a well earned drink after her day. She had completely turned the house upside town, cleaning all surfaces, re-instating some art on the walls that had been put into a cupboard by her brother who couldn't stand any form of artistic expression. She had places fashionable throws over the sofas so she couldn't actually sit on them without feeling squeamish. Proud of her achievement today she dressed and left the house. Elizabeth, at the age of 19, was always one ahead of her time. At least she tried to be. Her fashion has always been apart of her, as she tries to make statements with her outfits, even in 1922 where some people were still stuck up their arse with tradition. She dolled a black women's pant suit. Her trousers flared, her small heels barely visible from the length. Her white blouse tucked into the trousers and a black suit jacket done up with 1 button and a small black purse she carried in her hand. Her auburn hair bounced around her shoulders, where as only the lower part of her face was to be seen, from the black overside hat she dawned, with a big enough outer rim to cover the top half. She smirked to herself, knowing that people would be staring if they were being daring enough to look out of their windows. Thats the problem with a small town. People are very nosy, and before long everyone know's everyone's business, and that is why Elizabeth preferred the city of New York.

She could hear chatter inside as she approached the Garrison. The pub owned by the Shelby's. She started to feel hesitant now she was outside of the door, knowing there would more than likely be only one other woman in there. Woman weren't exactly prohibited to drink alone, but Elizabeth was banking on the fact her Brother is a well known Peaky Blinder to let her stay, even for one drink.

"Get yourself together" she whispers to herself, before opening the doors. All the men turned to stare, the room falling silent. Chairs scrapped in a room to her right, and within seconds the door opened. She finally looked up, letting the room see her face.

"Liz Fucking Patterson" Arthur Shelby laughs, taking a swig of his whiskey.

"Thomas" Liz nods towards him, as he takes in the site before him. Thomas admits to himself, she had grown into one hell of a woman, but not one he thought he would bump into for a while.

"Elizabeth" He nods curtly, holding back a small smile "good to have you back" he looks around the room at everyone staring "Someone get this woman a glass of whiskey, neat!" he shouts. A few people rush towards the bar, but within seconds the barman had bought over a tray of 6 glasses along with a new bottle.

"Thank You" he nods, and ushers Liz into the room they were residing. She walked in to find 3 other guys.

"Liz, always causing quite the stir" John laughs, before getting up from his seat to give Liz a hug.

"Boys, this is Elizabeth Patterson, Robbie's sister. Her father gave us a great service. She is always welcome" Arthur nods to two other people in the room.

"Isaiah Jesus" one of them stands up and shakes her hand. Liz looks towards the other boy. He sits with an empty glass in his hand, looking up at Liz. There seems to be a way about him that reminds her of Tommy. His hair is slicked back, dressed very well, not a crease in site. He stands and nods his head.

"Elizabeth, I'm Michael Gray" His voice is smoky, and deep. His jaw was perfectly chiselled, his blue eyes bright. I glance over at Tommy who nods in confirmations. This is fucking Polly's son, Elizabeth thinks to herself. Michael looked around her age, although considerably taller against her small frame.

"Just call me Liz" she smirks, biting her lip. Michael couldn't help but notice this. He raises an eyebrow as they all sit back down in their seats, still keeping eye contact. Nobody else seemed to notice other than Isaiah who kicked his foot from under the table. Picking up his now full class from John's generous re-fill from the fresh bottle of whiskey, he raises it in the air, re-gaining eye contact with Liz. She had blue eyes like himself. They were big and bright blue, standing out against her auburn hair that flung around her shoulders. He looked down towards her bloodstained lips, the perfect shade of rouge that didn't clash with her hair. She smirked, almost in a suggestive manner, awaiting for him to speak.

"To Liz Patterson, Welcome back to Small Heath" Michael and the others jeered.