Smoke [Tommy Shelby]

IX

IX

                                                DAYS flew by in the blink of an eye due to Elizabeth's busy work schedule. Her days at Mr. Brown's sweet shop were joyful and easy; the workload was light and she spent most of the day talking to excited children and smiling mothers. Mr. Brown seemed to be in good spirits with Elizabeth and their conversation flowed freely and comfortably. He was a kind old man and, in some ways, he reminded her of her late father. Her days at the Garrison were less fun and far more serious. Constantly stood with perked ears waiting to hear the Shelby's sauntering in, she felt as though she never got a moment's down time when on shift. The workload was faster in pace too, the men difficult to control at times, and at the end of her shifts her whole body ached.

Elizabeth stood behind the bar, polishing the freshly cleaned glasses with the bottom of her apron. She paused as Tommy entered the pub with two men in tow, neither of which she recognised as regulars. Snapping herself out of the momentary halt, she brushed down her green work dress with sweaty palms and re-adjusted her apron to try and busy herself. The men settled in to the small snug of the pub and merely seconds later Tommy swung open the hatch. "Give me a bottle of whiskey and three glasses, please."

Instantly grabbing an unopened bottle of Irish whiskey from behind her, she hands it over through the hatch. Without meaning to, she finds herself caught in Tommy's icy blue eyes. She notices him stare back at her, unspeaking. For a moment, neither of them want to break their trance. The cough of one of the men inside the snug snaps Elizabeth out of the daze she was in. Faltering, she turns and picks up the three clean glasses, gently passing them to him. "Mr. Shelby." Her voice twinkles like the sound of the whiskey glasses gently clinking together under Tommy's hands. She watched as the hatch door slowly closed, shutting her out of the private conversation.

Noticing the empty pub, Elizabeth took the opportunity to press her ear against the hatch, trying her hardest not to acknowledge the nervous feeling in her stomach. The pouring of drinks can be heard and for a moment she wonders who is doing the pouring – as little as she knew about Thomas Shelby, he didn't seem to be the most hospitable type. The thought of him doing such a cordial act was almost unimaginable.

Finally, the first words amongst the men were spoken. "You'll forgive me Mr. Shelby, for indulging." Irish. Her breath catches in her throat at the unmistakable tones. She could recognise Irish accents easier than she could breathe. "It takes a lot for a man from Sparkbrook to step inside this pub." The cutting tone of his voice could be heard louder than the words themselves. Elizabeth quickly grabbed a piece of paper from behind the bar, writing down Sparkbrook messily, smudging it in her haste.

Pressing her ear back against the hatch, she managed to catch Tommy's level reply. "Anyone with money and good intentions is welcome at the Garrison. Now, you said you had business." True to his reputation, Tommy was straight to the point. In a way, Elizabeth admired his mannerism. While the way he communicated wasn't always polite, it was always honest. With Tommy, she thought, you always had a rough idea of where you stood.

"It's delicate Mr. Shelby. It concerns the factory down the road, the BSA. . . Big old place like that, rumours get started." There was a brief pause. Elizabeth's stomach curled and twisted. "Rumours that there was a robbery." Elizabeth's chest felt incredibly tight. Despite already being fed the information that it was Tommy who stole the guns, a small part of her had held out hope for him. And it seemed that hope was wrongfully placed. She listened on as Tommy played dumb to their questions and she bit her lip as the Irishmen's tempers began to grow heated.

"What we're trying to say is, Mr. Shelby, that if you were to hear about the whereabouts of said items, we would pay good money." The worst possible scenario would be the IRA getting hold of those guns, this Elizabeth knew and surely Tommy too. Though, she reasoned with herself, she still didn't know what Tommy's plan for them was either.