VICES AND VIRTUES | Thomas Shelby

THREE

"Arthur, what the hell happened?" Florence gasped as she entered the Shelby home, after Ada had just repeatedly banged down her door in search of bandages.

"You should see the other bloke, Floss," Arthur laughed humourlessly, blood covering his face and clothes.

"I'm not sure that I want to," Florence muttered under her breath, handing Ada a roll of bandages that her mother kept handy in the event of seeing injuries, "Has he had anything to drink?"

"Tommy's seeing to it," Polly answered the girl, "He's gone down to the Garrison, he'll be back soon."

"You've got blood dripping in your eye there, Arthur," Florence winced as she inspected the man's face from afar.

"John, wipe the blood out of his eye," Ada ordered her brother with frustration in her voice.

"Since when did you give orders?" John asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"I'm a trained nurse," Ada replied simply, causing Florence to shake her head in disbelief.

"Don't make me laugh, it hurts me face," Arthur scoffed as Polly proceeded to wrap a splint around his thumb.

"I bloody am!" Ada exclaimed, sitting beside Arthur.

"Ada, you went to one first aid class in the church hall, and you got thrown out for giggling," Florence replied, unsure of the girl's skills.

"Flo's more qualified than you, she spent our adolescence patching us boys up, not to mention George Harrington and all those scraps he used to get into," John added in agreement.

"I learnt how to stop someone from choking," Ada retorted as she continued to pace around the kitchen busying herself.

"I'm not bloody choking, am I?" Arthur remarked.

"You will be when I wrap this cloth round your neck," Ada returned bluntly.

The Shelby sibling dynamic had always intrigued Florence, she had often wondered what it would be like to have a sibling. She would've liked a sister perhaps, but she basically had that in her mother already.

"Let me see him," Tommy's voice catches the girl's attention as he wanders into the kitchen, a cigarette balanced between his lips and a bottle of rum in hand, "Alright, have this."

Arthur took the rum from his brother's hand, taking a swig as Tommy submerged a cloth in a bowl of water before wringing it out, "Give me that," He took the bottle from his brother, soaking the cloth in alcohol before pressing the cloth to his brother's wounds.

"You're alright," Tommy muttered calmly.

"He said Mr Churchill sent him to Birmingham," Arthur told his brother, alarming everyone in the room, "National interest, he said. Something about a robbery."

Florence didn't know anything about a robbery, even though she could tell something had been weighing on Tommy's mind since they'd left the restaurant the night before. Then when she woke in the morning he was sat up in bed as usual, a cigarette in his mouth, his eyes as bloodshot as they always were when he'd forfeited sleep.

"He said he wants us to help him," Arthur continued.

"We don't help coppers," John answered.

"He knew all about our war records," Arthur explained, "He said we're patriots, like him, he wants us to be his eyes and ears."

"He doesn't sound a bit like any of you," Florence muttered.

"I said," Arthur winced as Polly tightened the splint on his thumb, "I said we'd have a family meeting and take a vote."