Kings ||Peaky Blinders||

6| Sandwiches and Gun Shots

The next morning, when Mollie May woke up, it was bright outside. Arthur was still snoring his brains out with empty bottles laying at his side and John was just beginning to stir. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, sitting up straight to stretch her back and neck which ached from the uncomfortable position she had slept in.

She got up; Arthur rolled down onto the seat. There was a groan from John as Arthur landed on him. "Get off me." he whined as he pushed Arthurs sleeping form up and staggered to his feet.

"Good morning" Mollie May greeted him from a chair at the bar, he grumbled a reply. John went behind the bar and picked up a half empty bottle of whiskey and took a drink before walking back to Arthur. He poured the liquid over Arthurs head and Arthur bounded up.

"I'm awake! I'm awake." He yelled as he began to gain consciousness. "Was that whiskey?" Mollie May laughed. Typical Arthur.

She became aware of a dull throbbing in her head and began to regret the last bottle of whiskey she'd drank. Maybe that was one too many. "I'm starving," Arthur sighed as he lay back down on the seat and John sat down opposite him.

"What time is it?" "I don't know, I lost my watch." Mollie May muttered, putting her head down on the bar. "I'm going home to bed." She clambered down off the chair and headed for the door. "Enjoy clearing all this up."

"How comes we have to clean all this up while you get to go to bed?" John grumbled. "Because you both slept like babies last night and I didn't sleep at all."

"Well, you should have slept then, that's not my fault." John defended himself with a hint of sass. "Well, Arthur snored too loudly and you kept fucking tossing and turning." Arthur sniggered at John as Mollie turned to leave.

"Here, you forgot these." John called after her, throwing her shoes across the pub. They landed with a thud at her bare feet. She pulled them on painfully with a sigh.

"And this." Arthur added as he held up her small handbag.

"Fuck sake," She groaned under her breath as she plodded back to the boys and snatched the bag from an amused Arthur. "Anything else?" she questioned annoyed. They shook their heads.

"We'll call round for you later." Arthur yelled as she left the pub with the slam of a door.

Back at her house, two streets down from Polly's, she made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. She pulled off the heeled shoes and fired them at the floor before sinking back onto the bed.

From there she could see herself in the mirror. She was a complete mess; her lipstick was smudged all over her face, her hair was a tatty jungle and her breath smelt of alcohol.

She reached out and took the framed photo from her bedside table, holding in into her chest. Laying back into her hard single bed to try and finally get some sleep.

"Hey, Pol." John yelled as he entered the gambling den to find Polly. Once he located her at one of the tables he went and sat opposite her, his voice lowering. "We all stayed at the Garrison last night and em, Mollie was, she was talking in her sleep again."

Polly shrugged, "And..." she asked him continuing to place bets. "She was talking about him, Pol." Polly stopped and looked up at him, "I'm sorry, who are we talking about now?"

"Leon, Pol. She was fucking shouting about Leon again in her sleep."

"Well, what do you expect, the girl's husband was killed. It's not as if it is something you can just forget about John. And anyway, why does that annoy you so much?"