Angel

10

            "Next.....next!" I heard Finn call out impatiently. I stood in the back room of the Garrison as my brothers interviewed men for a job, filling their glasses with more whiskey. I looked up as the door opened as a young, nervous looking man filed in, closing the door behind him and standing before my brothers. "Alright, then. Name?" Arthur barked out. "Digbeth Kid," the man answered, shifting his weight between his feet. "The Dig....what are you? A boxer?" Arthur asked amusedly. "Digbeth Kid, like Billy the Kid," Digbeth replied, and I chuckled into my hand. "Spend a lot of time at the pictures, eh?" I asked, pouring a glass of whiskey for myself. "Cowboy pictures? Tom Mix? Yeah?" Tommy asked as Digbeth nodded along. I plopped myself down next to John as Digbeth, with a surge of confidence, moved his waistcoat aside to show a holstered pistol. "What are you?" Arthur shouted as he and John both drew their guns. "Wait! Wait!" I shouted at them, placing a hand over John's arm to get him to lower the pistol. "It's not a real gun," I explained, and both of my brothers looked at me with confused glances. "S-she's right," Digbeth muttered nervously.

            "Let's have a look then, eh?" Tommy said, standing. "It's made of wood," Digbeth hurriedly explained, handing the gun over to my brother. "Smart girl Lena," Tommy chuckled, pointing the wooden gun at me. "Bang. Bang. Bang," Tommy muttered as he pretended to shoot the gun at my brothers and I. All three of us pretended to die in our seats and I leaned against John, chuckling. "Where'd you get the gun belt?" Tommy asked, taking his place once more at the table. "My sister made it, out of an old blacksmith's apron," Digbeth replied, "Me mum did most of the stitching. She's not my real mum, but..." "She does what mothers do," Tommy guessed, and Digbeth nodded, "So she made you a gun belt." "Alright there, mother's boy. There's the door, on you go. We're looking..." Arthur said, losing interest as he turned back to his newspaper, trailing off as Tommy raised a hand. "Have you ever been arrested?" Tommy asked. "Yeah," Digbeth replied, clearly trying his best to look weathered and tough. "Yeah?" I asked, eyebrows raised. "N-no," Digbeth answered shamefully after looking around the room. "Good," Tommy replied, "You're the first bloke we've had in here today with no criminal record. Arthur, we can stand him up. Do you know what that means?" Digbeth shook his head in response.

            "Your new home secretary wants something done about illegal gambling," Tommy said. "Damn right," Arthur piped up. "About bloody ti-hey," John complained as I took the cigarette from his hand, taking a long drag. "So we help our coppers make their quota of convictions by having men stood up to be arrested. First offense, you'll get a week inside. We'll give you five quid for your trouble. How does that sound, cowboy?" Tommy asked, and Digbeth nodded, his lips turning up into a slight smile. "Good," Tommy muttered in response. "Write your address down for Finn on your way out," I told him, rising to my feet. "I-I can't write," Digbeth muttered. "That's alright, Finn can't read," John joked, and grunted as I smacked the side of his head. "Don't worry," Arthur told him. "Tell him your address and we'll send someone round," Tommy said. "If...the sheriff don't run you out of town first," John chided as we all stifled chuckles. "Good man," Tommy told Digbeth as he nervously left the room. "Oh, I don't know, Tom. Kids these days..." Arthur trailed off. "They didn't fight, so they're different," Tommy replied. "They stay kids," I said quietly and the room fell into silence. Just as my brothers had gone off to France I too had done my part for the country. After being a nurse during the war, I'd seen my fair share of hardship, and what it had cost those men.

            I disposed of the now empty whiskey bottle, and grabbed the paper from Arthur, rolling it up and smacking John with it. "Alright boys, it's time to go, you've found your man," I told them, and Tommy agreed, rising to his feet. "Why do you always hit me?" John complained, trying to rip the paper from my hands. "Because you're the most annoying," I laughed, running from the room before he could catch up to me. "She's got you there," Arthur laughed. "She does not. Arthur's the biggest git, how come he doesn't annoy you more?" John yelled as we all exited the Garrison. "Because he's got some wits. You have none," I shot back and John pulled out his gun, pretending to shoot me. "Tell....Arthur..." I muttered, falling back into his arms as I pretended to die, "That....he's....my favorite." John rolled his eyes, shoving me onto my feet as Arthur laughed, catching up to me and throwing his arm around my shoulders. "And you are mine. At least there's one Shelby girl keeping up with us," he laughed boisterously.

            "Get out of town kid or I will shoot your fucking head off!" John yelled as my two brothers crashed into the kitchen of the house. "Time's up! Pew!" Arthur shouted back, as he and John continued to play shoot at each other. I followed them inside, stopping suddenly when I saw Polly, whose arms were wrapped around a boy a few years younger than I was. "You're dead. Go down. John!" Arthur complained before seeing the look on John's face and turning around to see the boy and Polly. "Put the fucking guns away," I muttered lowly, and my brothers followed my orders. "Alright then, Polly. Who's this?" Arthur asked, stifling laughter. My lips remained in a tight line, already knowing who the boy must've been. "Gentlemen? And, lady," Tommy added after a quick elbow to the ribs from me, "This is your cousin. Polly's son. Michael." The smile faded from Arthur's face as he stood, taking Michael in. Michael crossed the room to shake hands with Arthur and then with John. "Pleased to meet you," he said slowly. "John," John introduced himself. "I'm Arthur. You've already met me. I used to throw you out of the window so John could catch you," Arthur muttered. "Yeah, I used to put you in a shoebox and kick you down Watery Lane," John added.

            "Lena. Unlike these brutes, you and I were the closest. We just used to play tag together, and follow Tommy down to the horses," I said as he shook my hand. "I bet you're glad to be back," Tommy chuckled as Michael smiled. "I don't remember any of it. All I remember is the day they took me away," Michael told us. The smile dropped form Polly's face as she crossed the room to embrace her son. "Well, you're here now, son," Tommy said as Polly finally let go. "Welcome to the Shelby family." He clapped a hand on Michael's shoulder. "Later on, we'll show you the ropes," Arthur said. "Mmm. Yeah, we'll show you what's what," John added. "Let's leave him be for now, eh?" Tommy said after catching a glance from Polly, "Come on, boys." "Nice suit," Arthur chuckled as my brothers left the room. "Come on Lena," Tommy's voice called and I hurried from the room. "We've got a meeting with Billy Kitchen. Needs to pass the medical," Tommy explained, and I nodded, knowing he was asking for my expertise.

            Arthur disappeared with John off somewhere, and Tommy motioned for me to follow him to where we stocked our vehicles that were awaiting their export. I took a pack of cigarettes out of my purse, leaning forward for Tommy to light one as he lit his own. We didn't stand waiting for long. "Here he is, Mr. Inconspicuous," John announced as he approached us with Billy. "Corporal Billy Kitchen," Tommy said warmly, leaning forward to shake his hand, "Bloody grand to see you. How are you feeling? I've just come out of bandages meself." "Ready for active service. Thanks for seeing me here, Tommy," Billy replied, standing straight. "It's alright, Bill. You don't have to stand in line for us. It's men like you we're looking for, Billy. But, you have to pass the medical first," Tommy said, nodding his head towards me. I stepped forward as Billy opened up his shirt. I sifted through the bandages on his chest, inspecting the wound. "Sheffield mob showed up at Wincanton trotting track. I took a bullet," he explained, and I nodded. "When do the bandages come off?" Tommy asked. "When I take 'em off," Billy retorted, and I looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. "One week, not before," I said sternly, and Billy nodded. "You'll smell no rot. There's no gangrene," Billy said. Tommy looked to me questioningly, and I nodded in confirmation.

            "It's been a long time, eh, Billy?" Tommy said, "What did you do with your medals?" "Threw 'em in the cut. Same as you," Billy replied. "It was never a hardship having you Black Country boys on our left flank," Tommy said, and Billy nodded. "And you Brummies did alright on our right," he said. "Damn right," John muttered. "I want you to be the head of a brigade, Billy. It'll be Brigadier Kitchen from now on. You'll have a hundred men under your command," Tommy instructed him. "Now that we've got a member of the Kitchen family on the payroll, maybe your cousins and brothers will let our boats pass through the Black Country without being held up and robbed," John said smoothly. "Don't know what you're talking about," Billy snapped back. "Go home, Bill, round up any good men you can trust, and put the word out. Black country boys and Brummie boys are on the same side again," Tommy chuckled. "That'll be the bloody day," Billy laughed. "Well, this is the bloody day," Tommy said as the two men shook hands, "London, man. There for the taking." Billy nodded and departed. "Does this have anything to do with Alfie Solomons?" I asked as we too left the vehicles, trying hard to act as though I didn't care much for the answer. "Why does it matter? Doesn't concern you sister, you're just his nurse," Tommy brushed off the question and I rolled my eyes.