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↳ THE LEGEND SAYS: When God created snow,
he gave it the task of visiting the flowers of
the earth to gather colors. All the flowers
refused, until the snow visited the...
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THE STREETS OF Small Heath were very quiet for a Monday morning. Deborah made her way to the betting shop after she finished cleaning the Garrison. Since Arthur was away dealing with business in London, the pub was her responsibility. As painful as it was waking up at the crack of dawn to sweep floors and wash glasses, the young women did miss her old job as a barmaid.
When she rounded the corner to Watery Lane, Deborah spotted a car pulled up outside the betting shop. A young women stood at the door, knocking repeatedly and glancing around, almost as if she was unsure if it was the correct address.
"May?" Deborah questioned, once she was close enough to recognise the women.
The older women sighed in relief and turned to her old friend. "Deborah, thank God. I thought I had the wrong address." She smiled.
"What are you doing here?" Deborah asked, raising an eyebrow.
Feeling slightly intimidated by the women's piercing brown eyes, May tightened her designer coat around her. "Mr. Shelby invited me." She replied.
Deborah's teeth clenched at the mention of her man's name. "Tommy?" She repeated, checking to make sure they were talking about the same Shelby.
"Yes. He's interested in me training the horse he bought at the auction." May explained.
Deborah nodded slowly and finally smiled at the women. She knew that May's father was much more experienced for horse training and if Tommy genuinely wanted the horse to succeed, he would have contacted him. Tommy was up to something if he contacted May and it more then likely benefited him and the business, but Deborah had a feeling it meant nothing good for May.
"Did no one answer?" Deborah broke the silence and gestured towards the shop door.
"There's a women in there." May began. "She told me she wouldn't let me in until the shop opened. Something about a swarm of men?"
Deborah chuckled and shook her head. "That's Esme, John's wife." She informed the women, while grabbing her own keys. "She's a bloody pain, but she'd want to be if she's married to John Shelby."
As Deborah tried to turn her key in the lock, it made no movement. The brunette mentally cursed at Esme for once again, leaving the keys in the other side of the door.
"Esme!" Deborah yelled, banging loudly on the door. "You did it again! Open the fucking door!"
May jumped slightly at the noise Deborah was making and the foul language she had used. The posh women glanced down the street either side if them, fearful of judging eyes.
"Who's the one out there with ya?" Esme's voice was muffled through the old wooden door.
"She's here for business." Deborah replied. "I know her, so there's no need to wait around for one of the guys."
