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December 1919.
It was Black Star Day, a blotch of blank ink that turned the third of December into something the Peaky Blinders will always remember, and the rest of Small Heath will likely beg to forget.
The Garrison was eerily empty for the middle of the day, with the exception of Grace Burgess, of course. And Nancy Cochran, who was hiding out in the Blinder's private room, but Grace didn't need to know that. She was just trying to do her homework in peace: the shop was closed, her mum was out cold on her remedies and Finn Shelby won't stop nagging her around town about where to get some more sweets.
The soft scratch of her pencil against the paper had ceased when Nancy heard sharp footsteps and the clack of heels across the polished pub floor from outside. Then came two voices hushed by the door - a gentle Irish one and a fierce Birmingham one to be sure.
The one thing that seemingly forced Nancy's body into movement was the rattle of a gun. She shuffled to the lower half of the door as quietly as possible, her ear pressing against the mahogany.
"I am an agent of the crown," Grace's voice was low, and Nancy's best guess would be that she was trying to pose as the authority in the room (something she knew Polly Gray wouldn't let slide), "I have the power to arrest and the right to use force. So please, step out of my way."
"Like I say, instinct's a funny thing. You fell for Tommy for real, didn't you?" Pol's voice was deriding, mocking with the hint of a smile. As far as town gossip goes, Nancy was drowning in the best of it.
Grace's voice shook in reply, "This gun is loaded."
"I'm not afraid of you: I feel sorry for you. Slip of a thing, thought you'd come in here and stitch us all up? I mean, we've had some copper's narks in here, but you? You're the queen of them all," Polly's voice stayed calm, amused and quiet, and it almost made Nancy want to giggle at the thought of Grace's face as they talked - the image of what was going on beyond the door that was playing out in her head was beyond entertaining, "So who are you?"
Polly went on, "Rich girl, I'd guess. Unionist? An Ulster Volunteer? You thought Fenians, communists, low people, they're all the same. Scum. Then you met Tommy."
Nancy heard the gun being placed on the bar, "I'll fight you with my fists and show you how a rich girl fights. I'm from a tough family too."
Now that made Nancy laugh. Probably gave her away, but god would it have been worth it.
Though she seemingly went unheard, and the voiced kept on after a pregnant pause, "Nah, we women have more sense. Why don't you pour all three of us a drink?"
