Destruction of the Mind / [Thomas Shelby | Peaky Blinders]

chapter / seven

Eventually, Florence had to face the evening with a brave face, and leave the comfort of her quiet room for the loud, cramped bar. She was on edge as she walked the short distance from the bed & breakfast to the Garrison. She was scared that the man she had fled from was going to force her back home and make her marry him.

Florence was relieved when she made it to the pub without anything peculiar happening. She got behind the bar and started to serve drinks, trying to get her mind off of how her worst nightmare was here in Small Heath.

"Florence, I wanted to talk to you about earlier," She heard as she was just crouching down to place some money into the safe, knowing the voice belonged to Thomas Shelby.

She stood up, seeing that he was on his own. She just nodded for him to continue what he was saying, but he didn't get to continue as his brothers and her rejected vicar had strode into the bar, coming to stand right next to Thomas.

"What can I get you boys, eh?" She said, plastering a fake grin on her face. "Let me guess, a bottle of Scotch Whiskey."

"You know us too well, Flo'," John replied, giving her a wink, "Oh, and this 'ere is our friend from London, 'is name is Henry Matthews. Henry, this is Florence."

Florence was confused at the name, but didn't let her grin falter as she popped a bottle of whiskey and four glasses onto the counter. She didn't look 'Henry' in the eye as he held his hand out to her.

"Nice to meet you, Florence." He said, trying to catch her line of sight with his eyes as she shook his hand gently.

"You too, Henry." She replied, nodding her head at him, avoiding his gaze. 

Arthur picked up the bottle of whiskey whilst Thomas left his burning cigarette in his mouth to pick up two glasses in each hand. John, Arthur and Henry Matthews all started to walk over to the small room in the corner whilst Thomas stood in front of Florence for a few moments more.

"I'll tell ya' later." He mumbled with his cigarette in between his teeth, before following his 2 brothers and his 'friend'.

More questions began to crawl around her brain as she continued doing her job, pouring drink after drink. Was his real name Lawrence or Henry? Why did he act as though he had no idea who she was? And most importantly, why was he here, if not for her? She thought she was going insane - was she mistaken, could that be somebody else?

"Harry, I'm sorry - I'm not feeling well, can I step outside for a few moments please?" She whispered to the bar owner, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"Go ahead, love." He replied, worriedly, watching her dash out of the pub as soon as he confirmed she could leave.

Florence stood by the window, looking up at the sky to try and stop herself from crying. She was unbelievably stressed out, her brain was in a mash up of thoughts and questions that weren't easy to get answers to. She leaned against the blurry tinted window, keeping her eyes on the dark sky above her.

The door to her left slammed open and her head snapped towards the sound, eager to find out who it was. It was Thomas. Of fucking course, Florence thought to herself. He looked either side of him and as soon as he saw her, he stalked straight over to stand in front of her.

Thomas towered over Florence and he put his hands on the window around her, to keep her from moving. He lowered his head to her level, getting right up in her face.

"What tha' fucks wrong, Florence?" He practically shouted, looking her in straight in the eyes, "I come out to get a fucking drink an' 'Arry tells me that you've fucking gone outside! Why the fuck are ya' outside?"