The Queen Of Small Heath

Michael's Back.

Tommys POV

"You three armed?" Polly asks as me, Aurora and Arthur enter the Garrison. "Yeah." I nod. "Yeah." Arthur adds. "Rory?" Polly questions. "Off course I am." Aurora says. "Well, would you please consider putting your weapons behind the bar, incase feelings begin to run high?" Polly instructs.

"Behind the bar Pol, eh? In me own fucking pub." Arthur grumbles, dramatically unloading all his bullets onto the floor, and putting the gun onto the table in front of her. "Thomas, Aurora." Polly says as me and Aurora sigh, and we place our guns onto the counter.

"And the knives, Rory." Polly states, and Aurora reluctantly bends down, grab the knife from her heel and places it on the counter. "The one's in your waistband and holster." Polly says. "Fine." Aurora snaps, brushing her jacket aside, revealing a switchblade, retrieving it, then reaching behind her back and retrieving a second before she places them on the counter beside our guns.

"Happy?" She asks Polly sarcastically and Polly lets out a satisfied hum. "I had a dream about a black cat last night, Pol. A black cat dream means there is a traitor close by. It was you who taught me that." I say. "A black cat can mean a lot of things. It can mean you're hurting yourself, betraying yourself. Are you seeing things, Thomas?" She asks.

"Yes, I am. Yes, I am. Very clearly. Coming from every fucking direction." I say as Polly walks over, opening the door, which Michael and a blonde woman walk through, Michaels eyes immediately going to Aurora before coming back to me. "Tommy, I'd like you to meet my wife. I would also like to, er, say something." Michael says. "Sit down Michael." I demand.

"I betrayed you." He says anyway. "Michael!" Polly scolds. "But only in my heart. There was a time, in America, when there was a lot of money in that bank. And I wondered, I could- I could leave, move to California. Someone said I should invest in pictures. Hollywood." Michael says and Arthur scoffs.

"But Gina stopped me. Gina said that-" he continues. "I told you to sit down, Michael." I interrupt and Michael pulls the chair out next to Polly. "Now tell me, what happened on that ship, in Belfast Harbour?" I ask. "On the journey back from New York, we got married. But we needed to find a witness, a purser. He was from Belfast, we got friendly." Michael explains.

"And what happened when the ship docked?" I inquire. "This purser had friends who ran a whiskey distillery in County Tyrone. They wanted a way of getting their stuff to America. So I said, 'okay, invite them aboard.' When they came in, I realised they didn't make whiskey. They were Scottish, from Glasgow. Couldn't understand a fucking word they were saying. They started swearing so I asked Gina to leave." Michael explains.

"And did she?" Aurora asks, eyeing the blonde. "She did." Michael confirms, looking at her. "That's when they started talking about you, Tom. They said that Tommy Shelby was a spent force. No longer had his partner in crime by his side everyday." He continues.

"That politics had got to him. That he was spent in the head. That now was a good time to move in, and did I want to be a part of it? They knew about the money we lost in America. They said you were gonna blame me, that you had a bullet with my name on it." He finishes. "What did you say Michael?" I ask him.

"I didn't have time to say anything. Coopers came on board. Well, I thought they were coppers. They, er-" he starts. "They were IRA." I state, finishing his sentence. "Exactly." Michael nods. "And the first men, from Glasgow?" I ask. "The IRA commander says the men from Glasgow were called the Billy Boys." Michael answers.

"Fucking Billy Boys." Arthur chuckles. "I don't know who the fuck Billy Boys are." Michael says. "They run every man, in every coal mine, on every shipyard east of Glasgow. Ties with Belfast, UVF. Protestant razor gang. They also dabble in politics. You know, muscle for fascist rallies." Aurora informs him. "But you did no deal, Michael. You didn't even know who they were?" Polly asks.