Chelsea walked into the Garrison, Arthur, Finn and Isaiah all lined up behind her.
A man stood up at the other end of the bar, a microphone planted in front of him. Chelsea's mind was suddenly filled with the memory of Grace, how she used to stand up there and sing, when Chelsea used to sing with her.
As the Peaky Blinders entered, the man came to a halt and everyone stopped there singing, "Ladies and Gentleman i'm just going to take a short break, Thank you."
Chelsea took the table that was stood in front of the man and took a seat, Isaiah and Finn sitting either side of her whilst Arthur sat beside Finn.
Weather began to clap and Chelsea pointed at the spare chair in front of the four.
Once the man sat down, Arthur smiled, "Beautiful, Billy! Beautiful! Really nice."
Chelsea turned her head to the bar and held up five fingers and in less than five seconds, the bartender walked over with five glasses.
She poured them all a drink and handed them around the table.
"Really meaningful song," Arthur continued, "you know, heart felt song. I like it. I really do. Boys. . .and Princess, this here is Billy Grade. The man I've been telling you about. Billy, this here is my kid brother, Finn. And that is my beautiful niece, Chelsea. Have a drink, Billy."
Billy stared down at the drink and then back at Arthur, "I can't. Move voice is-"
"Drink Bill." said Arthur, bringing his own drink to his mouth and then balancing it on his thigh.
"Yeah." Billy nodded, Chelsea saw the flash of fear in his eyes as he took the smallest sip of the drink.
"You three won't remember," said Arthur, "but I remember when Billy here made a living on the football pitch. "
Billy laughed and shook his head, "Oh, yeah, that was a long time ago, Mr. Shelby."
"What a left foot, eh?" Arthur smirked, "And then what? Manager, right?"
"Well, yeah." said Billy, his eyes met Isaiah's and Finn's but they scammed past Chelsea's, "And now I'm a singer."
"Every football team in England knows Billy Grade." said Arthur, raising his eyebrows, "And he knows a few people, too. Didn't you, Bill, eh?"
"One or two." Billy whispered.
"Useful." said Arthur, "Very useful. But what do you do, Bill, eh? You're in here, singing, or whatever the fuck you call it, in shithole pubs in Birmingham. Thats no way to make a living, kids. Degrading."
"I love it." Billy said, suppressing a small smile, "I really do, I love it. And thank you, by the way, for inviting me here tonight. I really appreciate it, so thank you very much-"
"Don't thank me." said Arthur, the muscles in his jaw twitching, "I didn't invite you here to sing. I wanna listen to music, then I'll buy an Al Jolson record. Hmm? Thats what i'd do. Real singer, ya know? Melody, tune."
"I-eh-so what is it that you want, exactly?" Billy stammered, showing his nerves.
"Finn and Chelsea will explain the nature of my proposition. You'll listen to them won't you, Bill? You'll be attentive, won't ya? Because Isaiah, here, he'll show you the fucking consequences if you don't. All right." Arthur stood up out of his chair, "I'll leave you four with the bottle."
Arthur left the table as Billy shrugged, "What proposition."
"Right," Chelsea sighed, crossing her leg over her lap and leaning forward, pushing a piece of paper and a pen across the table, "what me and my Cou-Uncle want from you, is for you to write down a name and a number next to everyone of those football teams, yeah?"
