ALIVE- Arthur Shelby

New Beginnings OO6

Penelope made her way to the backroom where the trio of brothers had already taken their seats around a table among other close confidants. She set the pitcher and glasses down before them, her eyes briefly scanning their expressions. John had seemed more relaxed now, his posture slightly slacking down into the chair as he spoke to Arthur. Tommy sat upright and alert as ever.

''No whiskey?'' she asked. Thomas shook his head, and Penelope put the deck of cards on the table before him.
''You aiming to keep a clear head for something, Tommy?'' Arthur chimed in, pausing his conversation with his youngest brother for a moment. A hint of disappointment in his tone as he eyed the contents of the pitcher. "Let me know if you require anything else, gentlemen," she offered politely, her voice carrying a note of respectful professionalism that Tommy seemed to appreciate. As she closed the door behind her Harry stood at the bar waiting for her. 

''You need a break?'' he asked, a towel draped over his shoulder. It was quite late in the afternoon already. 'Have a smoke, and come back yeah?'
"Absolutely," she replied with a grateful smile as she took off her apron as she made her way outside.

Out back, Penelope took a deep breath, seeking solace in the cool autumn air that filled her lungs, offering a brief respite from the warm, bustling atmosphere inside The Garrison.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she fumbled into her pocket, retrieving a cigarette and lighting it up. Leaning against the rough brick wall, she caught a quick glimpse of herself in the reflection of a nearby window. The sight made her heart sink a little.
Her haphazardly braided and pinned hair had come undone, cascading untidily around her face. Her forehead had become slightly red with a small gleam of sweat. She sighed softly, holding the cigarette between her lips for a moment. With both hands, she tried to secure the unruly braid against her head, moving a few hastily placed pins. She smoothed over the fabric of her blouse and skirt, the gesture was both automatic and purposeful. Tugging slightly on the hem of her skirt. She admitted it wasn't her finest clothes, but she had not worn anything particularly nice for a long time.

She wiped her forehead with the back of her sleeves before she felt some of the cigarette's ashes fall onto her blouse, she rushed to take the stub from her lips, flicking it onto the ground. 'Goddamnit.' She wiped at the ashes as she stepped closer to the window, to examine herself closely. The ashes had left no stains. Turning around, she craned her neck to catch a glimpse of her back in the reflection.

It revealed a slender figure, her clothes seeming to hang a bit looser on her frame than she would have liked. She sighed softly. If James were here, he would have scolded her for not eating enough, urging her to take better care of herself. A bittersweet smile flickered on her lip. She turned around, trying to see herself from a different angle. Her fingers grazed over her collarbones, tracing the delicate lines on her neck. Just maybe, she still held that beauty. Lost in the moment, she remembered how beautiful she had once felt. Perhaps she still was. She straightened her posture and gazed at herself slightly more confidently now. She was ready to go back inside.

She could feel that the atmosphere in the Garrison had shifted as she opened the back door. She looked at Harry who had turned towards the entrance. Two guys entered, carrying pistols.
Feeling the sudden sense of danger, she ran across the floor to Harry. But not before she saw another men step in.
''Holy shit. It's Billy Kimber.'' In those few seconds, the Garrison had become eerily quiet.

His sharp, well-tailored suit and polished shoes marked him as a man of power and influence. His impatient eyes scanned the room, a leering smirk played on his lip as the silence lingered. As he made his way through the pub, the patrons carefully moved out of his path, creating a wide berth around him. Penelope discreetly observed him from behind the bar. Billy Kimber, she ha heard the name before. And none of those stories were pleasant. Another man appeared behind him. He carried no weapon. He halted a mere couple of paces behind Billy Kimber,