Lucy Boynton as Cordelia Johnson
Over the course of the past year, Cora had grown accustomed to seeing a stark, white envelope underneath the bakery door when she walked downstairs.
At first, she wondered if someone placed it under there as a trick or they had mistaken her shop for somewhere else—in the dimly lit streets, the townhouses of Small Heath seemed to blend together into one. But after picking it up and seeing her name scrawled in messy handwriting—barely legible at first glance—a small smile had crossed her face.
So, it was no surprise to Cora when she was, once again, greeted with an envelope as she walked towards the door to open it. Bending down, a smile flickered across her face and she stood up before making her way behind the counter. Her thin finger eagerly ripped the paper—she was careful not to accidentally cut herself, though—and her eyes were quick to devour the words that were scribbled on a small slice of paper.
Cora let out a scoff of a laugh and rolled her eyes, her fingers folding up the slip of paper and shoving it in the pocket of her black skirt. She knew that if he saw her reaction it would've probably made him laugh harder than the joke itself. Cora stalked over towards the coat rack behind the door and grabbed her coat, slipping it on but not buttoning it. While the weather was considerably warmer than the day before, Cora loathed the cold.
She had forgotten to ask Harry for two bottles of dark rum, a key ingredient in the rum cakes she was asked to make for Mrs. Williams—who was a new mother—husband's birthday. After locking the bakery door and twisting the knob twice, Cora set off on her sort track to the Garrison. Young children hurried past her and shouted a quick hello while the men tipped their hats when she walked by and women smiled or said hello.
Pushing open the Garrison door, Cora stumbled back as her small frame crashed into a rather large one. Her back bumped against the closing door as she regained her foot and muttered a quick apology to the person she had run into to. When the person didn't respond, Cora looked up, worried that something was wrong or that she had—somehow—injured the person.
"Danny?" Cora breathed, her brows furrowing in confusion as a close friend of Thomas's shoved the door open and rushed out of the Garrison. Looking up in hopes of understanding what had just happened, though she didn't doubt Danny had another one of his episodes, she felt her heart stutter as her eyes met ice blue ones.
The meeting was quick, more a flicker than a glance, before Tommy turned his back and headed towards the bar's counter. Cora followed slowly as she observed who was in the room and what might happen next. Small Heath, Birmingham was exactly what it's said—it was small. Therefore, it was easy to know everyone and everything, and it was easy to know who the instigators were and who the peacekeepers were. Cora stopped at the counter but kept her body a foot away from Tommy's. By the glance he gave her, she knew that it was going to be a while before she would be able to bake that cake.
"Mr. Shelby, you have to do something about him," Harry said as he lifted a table and placed it in its upright position before setting the chairs back around it. Cora waited for him to walk back behind the counter before muttering her order to him.
"Damn right, Harry." Freddie Thorne agreed, cockily walking behind Tommy, and Cora watched him closely. Freddie Thorne was a well know instigator in Small Heath and Cora had grown up with him and the Shelby's. She knew that Freddie would do anything in his power to get under Tommy's skin, and given the fact that Freddie had never feared Tommy—not in childhood and not now—she didn't know how far he'd go to get Tommy to give him the reaction he craved.
"You pay the Peaky Blinders a lot of money for protection," Tommy swung his head back as he finished his shot, his face passive as Freddie pressed on, "You're the law around here now, Tommy, aren't you? Maybe you should put a bullet in Danny Whizz-Bang's head like they do with mad horses."
Cora locked eyes Tommy, their faces blank. Cora had to hand it to Freddie. He certainly knew what he was doing and exactly what topics to touch on. It was no secret that Tommy valued horses and Cora had heard that when his mother was still alive and when he was younger, she would take them horseback riding and taught them how to horses. She wondered if it was Gypsy blood that made him so affectionate towards horses.
"Maybe you'll have to put a bullet in my head someday, too," Freddie muttered, just loud enough for Tommy and Cora to hear, as he brushed past them.
Cora watched as Tommy's eyes darkened at the words and she shook her head ever so slightly—a movement only Tommy saw—as she grabbed the two bottles of rum from the counter. She walked towards before stopping and waiting for Tommy to pull his cap on and join her.
"Bring the bill to the Peaky Blinders. We'll take care of it," Tommy called as walked towards the door and pulled it open, allowing Cora to slip out and onto the windy streets.
Cora swore aloud as the wind ruffled her hair and pulled strands of hair out of the bun she had placed her hair in. Feeling Tommy's brooding presence beside her, she held out one of the rum bottles for him to grab, which he didn't hesitate to grab.
"Meeting?" Cora questioned, tucking a long strand of her sun-kissed hair behind her ear but not looking at Tommy. Tommy didn't respond; instead, he picked up his pace and she followed to the dark grey building, slipping through the door when Tommy opened it.
"Hello, Finn" Cora greeted the young boy as she walked through the kitchen and placed the bottle of rum on the table.
"Ello, Cora." Finn smiled at the young woman who he had known all his life, "Did you bring any cookies?"
Cora frowned before ruffling his hair, "No, not today. But maybe if you stop by later, I can probably slip you something."
Giving Finn one last smile, Cora pulled open the nary blue doors that were hidden behind two thick, dark green curtains. She ignored the sharp glare Arthur shot her, obviously displeased with her lateness, and slipped past him so that she was sat towards the end of the large table that was placed in the center of the room, Tommy leaning against the cabinet near her.
"Right," Arthur began, his voice gruff and low as he glared at the occupants of the room, "I've called this family meeting because I've got some very important news. Scudboat and Lovelock got back from Belfast last night. They were buying a stallion to cover their mares. They were in a pub on the Shankhill Road yesterday, and in that pub, was a copper handing out these."
Cora reached forward to take a flyer from Scudboat, thanking him quietly as her eyes trailed over the tea-stained paper. Cora held up the paper for Tommy to take and retracted her hand the moment she felt him grab it, her eyes focusing on the different reactions the members were having.
"If you're over five feet and can fight, come to Birmingham." John read before looking up at Arthur.
"They're recruiting Protestant Irishmen to come over here as Specials," Arthur said, crossing his arms—something Cora noticed he did to feel as though he held more power than he actually did—and she furrowed her brows in confusion at the word.
"To do what?" Ada's soft voice floated, voicing the question that Cora was about to ask.
"To clean up the city, Ada." Tommy explained, his words gaining him the attention of the room, "He's a chief inspector. The last four years, he's been clearing the IRA out of Belfast."
"How do you know so bloody much?" Arthur glowered, his hand clenching and Cora felt the aura in the room take a violent turn.
Tommy and Arthur had been having a power struggle ever since they arrived home from war. While all the brothers had their own demons, they each handled them in different ways. John gained the habit of drinking, Tommy shut himself up and built walls around him, and Arthur drank and was known for violent and suicide attempts.
In the eye of the business, Tommy was the only one who was the most prepared to take over. He didn't have to worry about children like John did, nor did anyone have to fear an outburst from him, like Arthur.
Arthur was aware of this but refused to give up his spot. It didn't bother Tommy because he knew that their workers were more than willing to listen to him.
"Cause I asked the coppers on our payroll," Tommy stated, his face remaining passive—but Cora could see a shadow of a smirk on his lips—while his brother's turned red.
"And why didn't you tell me?" Arthur growled and Tommy shifted lazily on his feet.
"I'm telling you."
Cora watched uneasily as an unsettling silence fell over the room. Her eyes flickered from Tommy to Arthur and she watched as Arthur took a large swig from his flask, his eyes never leaving Tommy's.
"So why are they sending him to Birmingham?" Pol cut in, looking up from the paper and staring at Tommy, waiting for an answer.
"There's been all these bloody strikes at the BSA, and the Austin works lately." Tommy said, "Now the papers are talking about sedition." Cora could almost see him rolling his eyes at the word, "And revolution. I reckon it's the communists he's after."
It was Ada's expression that caused Cora to pause for a moment. Her eyes widening for a fraction of a second as she bit her lip, and Cora could see her mind drifting from the meeting. If what Cora was thinking was true, then Ada had done an impressive job keeping it in the dark.
"So this copper's gonna leave us alone, right?" Pol pressed, and Cora's attention turned back to the older woman.
"There are Irishmen in Green Lanes who left Belfast to get away from him. They say Catholic men who crossed him used to disappear in the night." Tommy informed and Pol let out a scoff, turning her head back towards the paper.
"Yeah, but we ain't IRA." John said, his voice impatient and frustrated, "We bloody fought for the king. Anyway, we're Peaky Blinders. We're not scared of coppers
"He's right," Arthur grumbled.
"If they come for us, We'll cut them a smile each." John finished and Cora bit her lip as her mind reeled with all the new information. Something just wasn't making sense to her, but she wasn't sure what it was… it was like an annoying itch she couldn't reach to scratch.
"So, Arthur, is that it?" Tommy asked, his tone bored and relaxed despite the new threat in Small Heath.
"What do you think, Aunt Pol?" Arthur asked as he turned to look at his Aunt.
"This family does everything open. You have nothing more to say to this meeting, Thomas?" Auntie Pol said, and Cora watched as Arthur's eyes flashed with fury. His aunt had blatantly chosen Tommy as a high position.
"No. Nothing that's women's business."
Cora's eyes widened at the jab that was thrown and she clenched her fists. Tommy had gotten colder since the war in many ways. The most important one, however, was the fact that he now seemed to want to keep the women who ran the business while they were away, out of the business.
"This whole bloody enterprise was a women's business while you boys were away at war. We even started a whole new business," Auntie Pol stated calmly, but the chilling smirk on her face showing her anger towards Tommy's words, "What's changed."
"We came back."
"Thank you, sir." Cora gave a tight smile to the man seated in front of her as she placed the muffin on the table. Ignoring his swipe for her ass the moment she turned around, Cora was quick to deposit the money in the box on the counter before locking it and shoving it in the drawer underneath.
Her mind was drifting back to the meeting that occurred yesterday and even though the bells sounded, alerting her that someone had entered, she didn't turn to see who. It was only when the cheerful chatter of the bakery died down she looked up, blowing a strand of hair that had fallen out of her bun out of her face.
Tommy Shelby stood in front of the door, his cold eyes surveying those who were in the shop. Cora raised an eyebrow at the man in front of her before quickly slipping a glance at the man who had made a grab for her, inwardly rejoicing at how pale his face had gone. If Tommy had seen her glance, he made no comment.
"Everybody, out." They were gone in an instant.
Cora smiled as the tall male approached her, resting her elbow on the counter before resting her head in her hand. While her smile was polite, her eyes were mischievous as she thought of the many reasons why Tommy was in her shop.
"What brings you 'ere, Tommy? I never imagined you'd set foot in my shop?" She teased. Tommy ignored her as he looked around the small bakery, taking in the details of the small shop.
"You're closing early," Tommy stated, and a look of concern took over her features as she quickly slipped off her apron and grabbed her coat. Following him outside, she locked the door and twisted the handle twice before the two set off down the street.
"What happened now?" Cora asked as they made their way to Pol's house, her eyes catching the large bottle of whiskey in Tommy's hand and taking note of Tommy's brisk pace.
"Arthur got himself in trouble with some coppers," Tommy said, opening the door for Cora and following her inside. Cora silently entered the house, her footsteps soft and quiet in contrast to Tommy's loud, stomping ones. Shoving the kitchen door open, Tommy flung off his had, "Let me see him."
Cora would've winced at the state of Arthur's face, but it wasn't as though she hadn't seen this before. His face was covered in dried blood, the bleeding coming from two large cuts—one on his cheek and the other on his forehead. Her eyes trailed over his form as she examined the rest of him, taking note of the two fingers that Pol was taking care of. Both of them stuck out at odd angles and she knew that they were always going to be crooked.
When Tommy was drafted, she took it upon herself to go to the nursing classes that were held at the church. It was a constant debate in her mind if she wanted to join the army as a nurse or to help the family's business. In the end, taking care of the family business won. Her mother had grown sick as the war raged on and Cora didn't want to leave her alone to die.
"Move, Tommy," Cora ordered, bumping him with her hip as she snatched the lukewarm cloth from his hand and poured whiskey on it. A sharp hiss left Arthur's lips as she pressed the cloth on his wound, making sure to disinfect it.
Cora repeated the process with the wound on his forehead before dipping the cloth in the warm water next to her. Gently, she began to clean off his face to see if he had any smaller cuts that needed tending to.
"He said that Mr. Churchill sent him to Birmingham." Arthur began, trying to tilt his head to look at Tommy and hissing when Cora grabbed his chin to set it straight, "National interest, he said. Something about a robbery."
Cora's hand froze for a moment as she turned to look at Tommy. Everybody in the room was a way of the small mishap that had occurred, the guns were hidden by Uncle Charlie until Tommy could figure something out. Blinking, Cora refocused and grabbed the needle, pouring whiskey over it before lacing it with thread.
"This is going to hurt," Cora murmured in Arthur's ear before she pinched the split skin on his forehead and slid the needle through it, a low grunt coming from Arthur.
"He said he wants to help us to help him," Arthur bit out, his teeth clenching as Cora wove the needle in and out.
"We don't help copper," John stated with a raised brown, but Arthur continued as if he hadn't head him.
"He knew all about our war records. He said we're patriots, like him. He wants us to be his eyes and ears."
Cora tied the thread before sipping it with a pair of scissors. Pulling the excess thread out of the loop, she poured whiskey over the needle once more and rethreaded it. Using the stained cloth, she brushed the fresh blood out of the way of the cut.
"This is going to hurt," Cora muttered, once again. It was in her nurses' training to alert the patient before proceeding with treatment in case they might feel pain.
"I fucking know that," Arthur hissed and Cora pulled away, an annoyed look on her face. Letting out a shaky sigh, Arthur shook his head, "Sorry."
Cora muttered under her breath before she leaned forward and pinched the split skin on his cheek together, jabbing the need through it.
"I said—" Arthur groaned as Cora stitched his cheek together and Pol set his thumb, "I said that'd we'd have a family meeting and take a vote."
Cora looked over her shoulder when Tommy didn't respond, his face turned away from the family. Sharing a look with Pol, Cora finished the stitch and began to wipe off the rest of the blood from Arthur's face.
"Why not? We have no truck with Fenians or communists." Tommy remained silent.
"What is wrong with you? What the fuck is wrong with him lately?" Arthur finally snapped, looking at Cora for an answer. Cora glanced up at Tommy before looking down at the bowl of tinted water next to her.
"I should dump this out," She muttered and grabbed the wooden bowl before hurrying out of the room.
"If I knew, I'd buy the cure form Compton's chemist." She heard Pol say, and Cora swallowed harshly.