A Girl Called Cat- A Peaky Blinders Fan Fic

CHAPTER TWO

The vehicle was tugging along the old road. I try not to stare at anyone. However, these streets, just twenty minutes in, had already changed drastically from the station. Now there's still people out and about, but the air felt thicker. The alleys are darker. As if there were secrets lurking about the corners. It's a strange feeling. We turn one more corner and the vehicle comes to a gradual stop. The driver, who's name is Charles, turns to me,

"Alright Miss, here's your stop. You need to walk under the arch and the Garrison is dead ahead."

My eyes follow to where he pointed, a ball of nervousness starts to build in my stomach,

"Thank you sir."

He looks at me with a stare I can't quite define, pity maybe? Judgment? So far the people of Birmingham have been interesting to say the least. He takes a final puff of his cigarette,

"Do you need help with your bag, or?"

"No it's fine, thank you." Handing him his pay, I reach for my bag. Looking at the Garrison, I can't help but sigh. My questions should hopefully be answered soon. God, I hope this trip won't be for nothing. I brush by a group of obnoxious men, some shouting obscenities, and others staring as if I were nothing but an item to be bought. I'm almost to the door, ignoring their mockery, I reach for the door handle.

One of the men, who looked to be no older than 17, hollered out to me,

"Oi, me cherie, I'll get that door for you!"

The group starts laughing, some adding on,

"Oh yes madam!"

Rolling my eyes, I start to open the door, men are the worst. All of a sudden the pressure of a hand is on my lower back. I jerk my body around, pushing off my offender. It's the 17 year old who was instigating the scene earlier. He wore a proud smirk, oh how I wish to wipe it off his face. I take a step back but shout at him,

"Get your fucking hands off me."

"Can't a gentleman help a lady? I was only gonna open the door for you."

"Come at me again, and you'll regret it."

The group laughs again, I feel my face go red, but I keep my focus on the obnoxious blonde boy in front of me. The smile on his face is unwavering,

"I didn't mean no disrespect," sarcasm laced in his voice, "maam."

He turns back to his little group, triumphantly fist punching the air.

I rush into the cafe, why men rule the world I would never know. As the door opens, a bell rings, a man hollers,

"We're not open. Come back later!"

I couldn't see him, but the voice came from behind the counter. Treading carefully inside I holler,

"I came to see a Mr. Shelby?"

The bartender ambled his way from behind the counter. He appeared older, maybe mid forties, but he looked strong,

"Which one?"

Shoot, I don't know. I look up at him, trying to appear confident despite my lack of knowledge,

"I don't know actually, I was told to find the Shelby's, so here I am."

He nodded as if he were understanding,

"Do you have business with them?"

"Yes. Of sorts."

Possible family business, but he doesn't need to know that.

"Well none of the Shelby's are in town at the moment. I believe they're in London," he starts back behind the counter, "I believe they'll be back tomorrow morning though."