✓ | GOLDEN LIAR ↠ Thomas Shelby.

12.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

               "FELICITY, LEAVE IT." THE other blonde barmaid frowned at her friend as she paced the floorboards, her curls bouncing as a worried scowl lined her lips.

Hardly an hour into her shift at the Garrison and Felicity Woods was already itching to leave, to go and find out about what ever chaotic, destined-to-fail plan Tommy had up his sleeve. She had absolutely no intention whatsoever on the man walking into the meeting that was no-doubt a trap, or at the very least a conversation that most definitely would not result in an outcome that pleased both parties. However, due to the fact that Thomas Shelby had purposefully stalked off without uttering a word to the girl, meant that she hadn't a single hope of barging through the doors and dragging someone out before something occurred.

That hadn't stopped her from declaring that she would do such a thing to Grace, who had merely sighed before promptly forbidding her to leave.

And so the girls busied themselves behind the bar, keeping bored conversation among themselves as they poured drinks and mopped up the spillages that would occur only moments later. Grace kept her friend politely amused by recalling the stories of her time in Ireland, and Felicity laughed and returned these with tales of her own.

Hours later and the pair were even more bored than they had ever imagined, what with the dull repeating tasks having little to entertain them for long. And as the doors burst open and inaudible cries rang through their ears, both girls turned to one another, hardly expecting this to occur yet not feeling as though there should be any urgency to their next actions. Both Felicity and Grace had seen their fair share of pub brawls and so only assumed this to be another one.

It wasn't until the next words rang out that Felicity finally caught onto the fact that this was not a mere scuffle between drunkards.

"Is there any man here named Shelby?"

Felicity's heart dropped as her eyes found the door and watched as a sharp, impatient demand was shouted throughout the pub.

"I said," the man bellowed once again. "Is there any man here named Shelby?"

The blonde glanced from him to the two men that stood on either side, and as the realisation hit, she bit back a low groan. Now was really not the time for the men of her past to be walking back into her life - whether on purpose or not, she did not know, but she hoped it was the latter. It took Felicity a moment to collect herself before she put a step forward and left the safety of the crowded bar so that she stood in the flickering amber light of the bare bulbs.

"The Shelbys aren't in tonight," Felicity asserted with as much confidence as she could muster, hoping to whatever god was out there that she would not stumble upon her words.

The man pursed his lips together in impatience.

She continued hesitantly, "If you'd be willing to wait, I can get you drinks?"

Felicity prayed that he would not recognise the girl who stood before him. It was a feeble hope, but considering just how little attention he had paid her in the first eighteen years of her life, it had a slight possibility of paying out. John Woods had hardly uttered more than eight half-hearted sentences to his daughter in the final few months of her residence at the Woods home, choosing to spend his time on business, alongside his sons that had little reason to do anything else.