𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑-𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 || Peaky Blinders

XII.

   IT HAD BEEN a rather quiet few days after Kimber had arrived, a few of the men had been avoiding the pub knowing that trouble was on the horizon. She'd come in early to help Harry with the books, seemed she knew how to run a pub better then he did. Not like he'd admit that, the Harper's would lurch to buy the pub if so. She was good with numbers and was very knowledgeable about the pubs stock. When she arrived the place was empty. Well she could hear voices coming from the snug but it was nothing compared to the pubs usual boisterous atmosphere. One thing was out of the ordinary, that was for sure.

   "You think we're jokers." A man bearing a thick Irish accent spoke.

   "Am I laughing?" The voice of Thomas Shelby replied. The rupture of low singing could be heard from the Irish man as the he banged against the table.

   "Maguire, will you shut up?" Another man chimed in but Maguire kept singing. "Maguire, away and shite, we're trying to do business here." The other man continued against his singing partner. The singing only got louder until there was silence and Martha cleared her throat. 

    A lean figure rested against the snug, as if listening to the conversation. When the woman cleared her throat, the other jumped away from the door. Martha simply nodded her head, wanting to direct the woman away.

      "Did any more barrels of bitter come in this morning?" Martha asked, her eyes subtly scanning her over.

   "No." She replied plainly, she held that bright smile though. "Harry said-" However, she cut herself off at the opening of the snug.

   "Alright, boys, when I know who knows what about what, I'll let you know." Tommy called to the men before coming over to the bar, glass in hand. A boyish grin was on his face as she looked up to meet his eyes. The edges of her lips upturned without her even realising.

  "I thought you hated singing." Martha stated in a joking manner as she continued to wash down the bar - her eyes not leaving him.

   "Whiskey is good proofing water." He replies, pulling his lit cigarette up to his lips and taking a drag. "Tells you who's real and who isn't."

   "Their accents were so thick, I'm surprised you could understand them." She told him, cracking a slight smile out of him. Only enough for her to notice. "Maybe next time I translate."

   "You'd work for me?" A part of her believed he was seriously considering it. It got an idea churning in his head. Legitimate business.

   "I would not be liable for Flynn's actions if I did." She half joked, taking the dirty glasses from him so she could wash them. The woman flurried off to the back, making sure everything was in order for the evening.

   "So you are coming to the races?" Martha overheard as she pushed through the door to restock the shelves of clean glasses. "Two pounds, ten shillings." Thomas pulled out some money and place it in front of the woman. "Buy something red. To match his handkerchief." He stated, locking eyes with Martha who stared his way. An expression she wore was unreadable to him, one she hadn't even realised she was expressing.

   "Whose handkerchief?" But Thomas was already on the move. The door swung sharply behind him.

♱

Eyes lingered on the door swinging shut as two figures stumbled in, one rather glum and the other stoic. It was no surprise the Shelby brothers were in but there was an air of unknown circulating around them. Martha had sent Grace home less than an hour ago as Harry had come in to do some office work.