Peaky Blinders One Shots

Polly X Reader: A New Addition

The bite of the freezing air nips at the back of your neck as you pace through the streets of Small Heath. You pull your coat up higher to cover the bare skin, which helps a bit, but a chill still runs through you when a strong gust of wind comes in from behind.

Winter in Birmingham is often brutal, bringing frost and damp. At least if there was snow it might be bearable but this year seems to have no place for such weather. Instead it's all rain and wind.

It makes you wish that Polly hadn't run out of potatoes last night and asked you to get some more from the market this morning, but it's not like you could say no to her. You'd do anything she asks and she's well aware of it. That's why you didn't complain when she trusted you with the task instead of one of her nephews. So, with your warmest coat wrapped on, you set out into the soot covered city, basket in hand.

The trip to the market is uneventful. The bitter cold wind keeps you from browsing like you normally would, eagar to find something useful and haggle with the seller. Despite the Shelby's making more than enough money to keep everyone fed and clothed, you still can't resist a bargain, war time rationing and poverty fresh memories to you.

Basket now carrying the bag of potatoes, you trudge back down the streets, already daydreaming about the warm fire in the sitting room, when a figure on the pavement breaks you out of your reverie. A young girl sits there, knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. She looks down at the ground, paying no attention to the people around her. You take a quick glance around, searching for anyone else noticing the child, but no one seems to care. It doesn't look like her parents are among the few people walking the streets, but you wait anyway to see if someone will approach her.

You pull a cigarette from you handbag and light it, nervously sucking on it, trying to look busy. You don't want to startle the child by watching her too closely, but it doesn't feel right to just leave her here and hope someone comes along to collect her. Through your observation, you notice that her coat is filthy and ripped at the hem and sleeves, like she's been wearing it a long time and no one has taken care of it.

Most people in Small Heath struggle to make ends meet and take care of every article of clothing they own, unsure of when they'll be able to buy something new. It's how you've lived most of your life as well, until the Shelby's started earning big money. As a valued employee and Polly's partner, you've been well looked after by the boys and no longer have to sew patches onto your skirts when they rip. You're wealthy enough to replace anything you need to.

All too soon you reach the end of the cigarette. You drop it to the ground, using your shoe to put it out completely, and take one last look around. No one so much as glances at the young girl and you know now that if you don't help her, no one else will. Gathering your belongings, you approach the child carefully, not wanting to startle her. She doesn't look at you when you come near but you watch her tense up and hold herself tighter. At this you stop, not wanting to frighten her. You're six feet away when you speak.

"Hello." Your voice is soft and laced with concern. She finally looks up at you when she hears it.

"Hi." The word comes out in barely a whisper and you have to strain your ears to hear it.

"Are you out here all alone?" You ask, already knowing the answer. A child who simply got separated from their parents would not be so dirty already, so you're not surprised when the girl nods. She's still holding herself tightly and watching your every move. "Are you hungry?" She nods again.

The betting shop is within your line of sight, just a few doors down from where the girl is sitting. She wasn't here when you left, so she must have moved at some point after. With only a bag of potatoes in your basket, you have no food to offer her on hand. You know it's risky to ask her to come with you into the house. Has she been taught not to follow strangers into unfamiliar houses? From the way she looks at you and everyone around her, you assume she's at least somewhat aware of that rule. Yet you know you can't just bring her some food and leave her out in the cold. It would be inhumane. So, preparing for her to refuse or run away from you, you ask: