Not Just A 'Shelby'

Chapter 29: Everything at once.

Super long... #sorrynotsorry

Dot spent the rest of the day away from everyone, hidden away from the world. Polly had left, knowing she needed to keep the betting shop in line if Dot wasn't there to do it. She would also have to pick up John's kids, but she didn't have a problem with it. Dot had enough of her moping and after hours of sitting in silence and crying out all the water she had in her body, she decided to continue on with her original plan that she had for that day.

Drinking at the Garrison.

Picking herself off the coach and grabbing her coat and hat, she trekked her way through the busy streets to the pub. Stalking through the doors of the pub she headed to the bar and ordered a whiskey from Grace.

"I was wondering if we'd ever see you out again."

"Well, Thomas, I wasn't going to let my whole day go to shit." She weakly smiled at her brother next to her.

"They'll be okay, Dot." He spoke quietly.

"I just can't get the look of betrayal on John's face when he figured it out." She spoke, a sad expression claiming her face. She sipped on her whiskey as Grace handed Tom a glass for himself filled with whiskey.

Tom gave Dot a cigarette as they sat in each other's company, unbothered by anyone in the pub. Quiet chatter fill the air around them, but everyone knew not to mess with the Peaky King and Queen. Well, almost everyone.

Dot and Tommy watched as a tall, lanky man walked into the pub and made a direct line for the two. Leaning against the bar he eyed the two up. Dot looked at Tom for any kind of sign that he knew this made but he had none.

"Mr. Shelby?" He questioned.

"Who's asking?" Tom asked back to the man. Dot kept to herself as the two conversed.

"My name is Byrne. I have word from your man in Camden Town that you wanted to parley."

"Then parley it is." Tom spoke, sipping his whiskey.

The man continued. "A few months ago a man named Ryan came to this place with a view to buying some goods from you. Mr. Ryan met with an accident. He was shot." The man looked to Dot as he spoke about the man. Was that the man she watched die at the hand of Grace?

"I heard." Tom spoke, not looking from the bar in front of him.

"He was a man with a quick mouth. I know that. I wondered if he made any enemies here."

"None that I know of." Tom replied.

"It's not the kind of place to make enemies."

"Oh trust me, it is." Dot mumbled under her breath as she sipped her whiskey, earning a look from Tom.

"All are welcomed here, Mr. Byrne." Tommy spoke, looking towards the man.

"Including Irish?" He questioned.

"Oh, especially Irish." Tom continued smoking as the man kept talking.

"Ryan told you he w as a member of the Irish Republican Army." Looking past Tom and to Dot, he directed the question to her. "Was he still welcomed?"

Tom answered for her, unknowing to why he asked her. "Like I say, any man that buys beer is welcome."

"Perhaps you didn't believe him." The man spat.

Tommy sighed, becoming aggravated with the man, as was Dot. "In pubs, sometimes people say things, sometimes it's the whiskey talking. It's hard to tell which is which."

The man smirked. "As a teetotal man I find that amusing. Except when it ends in tragedy."

"Would you like some water and cordial, Mr. Byrne?" Tom asked, motioning over the the private snug.