I KNOW this song is modern, but this song inspired the idea so please just roll with it ahahah
Friday night we're the busiest. The men would always stop by at the end of the evening shift, without the hindrance of an early start the next morning. The peaky blinders bought over the bar a little over six months ago, profit almost tripled and the liquor was considerably more drinkable. Up top was the ground floor, a normal pub, where the whiskey was always out and beer would be spilt in merry cheer. Down below was for the few who were invited. Those of higher class and relative importance, if you had not been invited down below then you were not worth knowing in the world of business trade and favours. The password changed weekly and was issued only by Tommy himself. Down below was where I worked. The underground bar was for the more sophisticated class than the factory men above but men love their alcohol no matter there pay check. For friends, associates and those who payed their way in all courtesy of the peaky blinders.
I was entertainment. Despite the high quality liquor, sophisticated company, discrepancy of illegal activities, and if you were seen leaving you instantly became higher in our society, men will always be the same. I worked the stage, I sang, but not the songs they sang upstairs. Jazz was the new age, American flapper girls, skirts above the knees and women's on display thighs were not heard of yet in small Heath, unless you were invited downstairs.
The shelby brothers would show there face when they could, but never missed a Friday. They would come in, John the rowdiest, he would some times come up and have a dance if it was a particularly good day. Tommy was an observer he's lean back into the cushioned chair of a circular table, cigar in his left whiskey in his right. Arthur loved a good time as much as John did but didn't have his boisterous confidence, he mostly stuck to masculinity competitions via arm wrestling and fist fighting if he was up to it with the men up top.
Tonight was a Friday, Charlie the barman was cleaning tables as I exited the back room where I got ready for the night, I couldn't wear the black eyeliner and red slip on in public like I could down here, uo there id be a whore, a fallen women, down here I was a star. Upstairs was already rowdy for only being seven pm, a loud cheer came from above the rafters, "I'd expect a busy night tonight y/n." Charlie said he slid a vodka and ice down the bar to me. Charlie was just under middle aged, his brunette hair was starting to grey and the wrinkles by his eyes were wrinkling. His wife, Rose, pressed his suit every morning and polished his shoes till she could see her face and sent him on his way, he had a content life and it showed, he was the nicest barman I had worked with. "With big crowds come big tips Charlie." He grinned at me, the crowed upstairs grew louder and quiet, someone had entered. "We're not open." Charlie called when the fugues came into the low light. It was John, his jacket lung over his shoulder and cherry grin. "apologies Mr Shelby." Charlie said, he respected the Shelby's as if they were family, they paid Charlie more than any other man would for a bartender, and even an extra crown a night in the winter month.
"What do we owe the pleasure Johnny." I smiled, siping from my glass. Believe it or not the Shelby's were my next door neighbours, before the war John and I would run down watery lane with no shoes on in the summer and heavy boots in the winter getting up to no good. "A private song." I smirked, i often teased John as such, I didn't think much of his Lee kin wife. "Oh Yeah? What's in it for me?" He replied I threw a wet cloth from the bar hitting him squarely in the shoulder. "Don't be cheeky John." Charlie placed down johns usual first drink cask ale before he moved onto his whiskey. "Are your brothers joining you this evening or have you come because you enjoy my company so much." He scoffed taking a mouthful of his drink, "they are coming. With someone tommy wants you to show attention too." A business associate, a trading company or a man that wouldn't budge on an offer they wanted me to soften up. That was the usual culprit. "Am I in the place to ask?" I asked as John took the usual seat, the circle table on the wall opposite the stage, red velvet sofa on one red cushioned chairs on the other. The shelby table. "I think you'll like this one." The door upstairs opened again, and many pairs of feet made there way down. "Three whiskeys and three lords of England Charlie." Tommy said still on his way down, John raised his eyebrows at me provokingly as I waited for the owners of the footsteps to reveal themselves.
