✓ | GOLDEN LIAR ↠ Thomas Shelby.

03.

CHAPTER THREE.

              FELICITY WOODS SOON FOUND that she hated the man more than she was afraid of him, and that surprised her more than anything.

She had made it a habit of hers to always be awake before the sun was any higher than the horizon in the sky. Due to it being the colder months, Felicity was able to sleep for a while longer than she would do earlier in the year, and for that she was glad. There wasn't much for her to do in the early hours of the morning so in November, as she shrugged on a thick cardigan over her dress, she was glad that it had already gone eight o'clock and she would only have to waste another hour or two before she would even bother looking for a job. Besides, it would give her time to clean her small home, which was something she so often tried to put off from doing.

As Felicity came down the stairs, she stifled a yawn before noticing the paper that lay in between cold metal frame of the letterbox, and as she pulled it from its steel clutches, Felicity frowned at the box that appeared to be drawn around one of the advertisements. It was for a pub, not far from her own home, and one that she had avoided ever stepping inside due to the rumour that it was that specific building that the Peaky Blinders had grown fond of.

If anything, it wasn't a rumour - Felicity had seen one of the brothers step inside the pub on many occasions, but John Shelby never seemed to stay long. She had never been there to witness either of the other brothers entering or leaving the same building, but that might be because she never stayed long enough to watch. Felicity had no business of her own to enter the Garrison, so she never did.

Later, as she pushed open the oaken door to the pub, Felicity couldn't help but notice the sense of disarray that filled the air, with the tables out of place and the dust only just beginning to settle. The man in front of her held a broom in one hand and was pushing tables back into place in an attempt to tidy the room up.

"I'm here about the job as the barmaid," Felicity called to the man who stood just a few feet away from her.

He lifted his head from his work and she felt her skin burn at the judging gaze that fell upon her. "Are you mad?" Harry scoffed, turning back to the scene.

Felicity raised a single eyebrow as she stepped further into the room. "Am I what?"

The barman narrowed his eyes at the blonde girl. "How'd you know about the job, anyway?"

"I saw an advertisement."

"Job's been filled," Harry replied flatly.

The man turned away from her and continued to try and tidy the room up, anxious to straighten the tables before the men came from the factories later and clamoured for pints of amber beer. He had taken on a new barmaid only a couple of weeks before but she had told him she had business out of town for a few days, so she requested for a couple of days away from work and he had agreed without thinking.

Harry wasn't sure why he lied to the blonde girl but from the way her blonde curls fell over her shoulder softly to the warmth in her hazel eyes, he could see that the men would come down on her as though she was nothing more than prey to their predatorial selves. As anxious as he was to have another hand to help in the Garrison, he wasn't willing to put the naïve girl in a position where she would be fending off a sea of drunken factory workers as she unscrewed the cap to a bottle of whiskey.