PEAKY BLINDERS IMAGINES

John Shelby - 'A Royal Night Out.'

"But please mummy, it is the end of the war." Your sister Lizzie spoke as she looked towards your mother, begging for the millionth time to go out to celebrate the end of the war. "We want to go out."

"Out?" Your mother gasps. "Out where?"

"Into the crowds to celebrate with everyone else." Lizzie groaned and you stood still, always being the quieter and more sensible of the two of you.

"You'll be far too busy in here." She scoffed back to your sister, not liking the idea.

"Quite." Your father, the king, spoke when he came into the room.

"Bertie, darling, sit down." Your mother instructed her husband as he fretted over his speech he was supposed to make at midnight tonight; to mark the end to the war.

He sat down at his desk and read through his speech. Meanwhile you and your sister remained standing in front of your parents.

"Where was I?" Your mother muttered as she looked to the list of things to do. "Quarter past 12. Ah... A Polish delegation will present gifts. One o'clock, lunch with the French Ambassador and his wife."

'Ask her' Lizzie mouthed to you, knowing that maybe if you asked, then they would probably say yes to your plea.

"Y/N, make sure you have prepared your remarks." Your mother continued as she stared at her piece of paper still.

"Yes, Mummy." You nodded your head; playing with your hands once more.

"Now go get ready for the BBC interview for tonight" Your mother dismissed you both, watching your sister rush out of the room before you in a paddy.

"Mother, couldn't it be possible -" You muttered, beginning to beg to be able to go out for the night.

"No." She snapped; taking the answer on the shoulder, you walked outside to see your sister talking to both of your favourite guardsman.

"What-ho, Mickey?" Lizzie smiled as she walked up to him; walking beside him to her own room.

"The latest tid-bits, ma'am." He smiled back as he handed Lizzie a magazine. "Nice feature on the Curzon Club. A rather outr spot, it seems."

"Oh, thanks awfully, Mickey." She giggled and you rolled your eyes as she looked through the magazine. "Oh, I say. Look at that."

She showed you the magazine and pulled you to sit down on the end of the bed.

"Everyone in the entire country will be living it up tonight. It has to be you who asks them-." She groaned and laid back on her bed in annoyance - but still reading her magazine.

"They won't listen to me." You interrupt her, answering back quickly.

"Oh! Listen to this." She squealed, seeming to ignore everything you said so far. "Listen. Listen: The Curzon is considered by those deep in the know to be the best club west of Piccadilly. Barely a Bath Oliver's throw from Claridges, just around the corner from the American Embassy-"

"Lizzie" You muttered to get her attention. But she carried on.

"Mr Gregory Peck was there. Only last week drinking martinis and dancing." She squealed and began to dance across the room as she put on the record player.

"Which one is that again?" You asked her, naive to the normal things in society - perks of being future queen of England.

"The Lindy Hop. Come on, bumble feet." She giggles and pulls you closer to her to do the same thing. "I'll show you. One, two, three, four..."