. . . OF LOVE AND LOSS . . .
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Season 1
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Episode 0 – An Elephant's Stride
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Part I
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BIRMINGHAM, SMALL HEATH
December 2nd, 1918
Amongst the commotion and cacophony of Small Heath, three male silhouettes emerged from the fog, stepping foot onto a muddied, cobbled street lined with bleak, high storey tenements on either side.
The unknown figures were clothed impeccably in tailored, three-piece suits and glossy brogue styled shoes, complemented by black bowler hats that dipped slightly forward, casting dark, sullen shadows over their indiscernible features. Their arms swung gently by their sides in perfect unison as they sauntered down the yard in a one-to-two formation, their strides brisk but nonetheless poised.
Despite the town's impoverished appearance and gloomy hues, the leading figure ambling at the forefront noted how life on this particular street raged on ferociously with vigour, not expecting to come across such a fascinating contradiction.
The air fizzed with hollering and giggling. Women hung their washing on lines as it danced softly in the breeze. Boys of various ages, barefoot and dressed in dull-coloured rags, scampered and frolicked around the cobblestones. Mothers gossiped and chattered with each other from across the tenements, their booming voices echoing off the brick walls. Not too far, a lone man, permanently blinded by the catastrophes of the war, dragged his feet along the street at a sluggish pace while humming an unidentifiable tune, tapping his cane against the cobbles to guide him through the crowd. Elsewhere, a small cat hissed and scuttled after a scruffy looking black dog, just narrowly missing a group of young girls wearing bright, billowing dresses and calico head scarves. Seemingly unheeded by the racket, the girls strutted on blissfully down the street, arms looped together as they guffawed at a joke one of them had delivered.
However, the figure's attention rapidly returned to the more depressing peculiarities of the town; the girls' youthful laughter was drowned out by the incessant banging and clanging emanating from the neighbouring heavy engineering factories. The vibrant colours of the girl's dresses contrasted starkly against the black-tinged vestments of the bulky coal miners. The fog in which the women had disappeared into – an evidently ubiquitous, ghostly presence in the industrial town of Small Heath – only grew thicker as the chimneys and factory smokestacks continued on expelling a steady stream of noxious fumes. Thus, the skies looming above the town had acquired a rather tenebrous shade, the sun's rays visible as they penetrated the fog.
On one particular patch of the yard, standing just beside a bustling street market, was an Afro-Caribbean preacher with thick, straggly hair, boasting a leather-bound bible in his right hand. Seemingly sermonizing to no one, the people around the man were apparently completely oblivious to his presence.
Either way, the latter didn't stop him from delivering his religious speeches. As he took a step forward, one arm lunging towards the heavens while the other held onto his precious bible, open on a specific page, he uttered passionately the following passage: ". . . For it is not an enemy who reproaches me, then I could bear it! Nor is it one who hates me who has exalted himself against me, then I could hide myself from him. But it is you, a man my equal, my companion and my familiar friend. We who had sweet fellowship together. . ."
As the shadows of the three figures passed over the street preacher, the man spoke once more just before coming out of their earshot. In a rather ominous tone, he then said, ". . .Let no one deceive you with empty words, because God's wrath comes on those who are disobedient!. . ."
While making their way towards the end of the street, the figure leading the tandem was then abruptly approached by a heavily dishevelled woman, certainly not a day older than twenty, her soiled, calloused hands desperately procuring physical contact with him. Her sudden and unexpected approach had momentarily startled them all, but outwardly, they remained composed and nonchalant.
"I've got three mouths to feed, all on my own. Please, just one night down at Aubrey Road, number seven. I'm not asking for much, Sir. I'll do anything," the woman pleaded in a despairing tone, clinging vehemently onto the man's arm like a leech.
The tandem lingering behind waited expectantly for his response to the evidently sexual solicitation, their heads hanging low as they deliberately avoided making any eye contact with the whore. The unpleasant silence that ensued and the intimidatingly domineering presence of the finely-dressed ensemble made the woman falter in her steps as she unclasped her hands from his arm, seeming embarrassed and regretful of her rather direct and brash approach.
Expecting to be somehow reprimanded or berated with derogatory and demeaning names – things women like her had unfortunately grown accustomed to in this town – she was met instead with the man removing a handful of shiny coins from an inside coat pocket, totalling to a generous amount of ten pounds, and handing them over to her as she held out hopeful, cupped hands.
"The world's already got enough whores as it is to satisfy our men thrice over. And you don't need to be another one. You go home, you feed your kids, you find a steady job, and then you make sure you make him regret leaving you. You heard?"
Stunned by the man's empathy and unorthodox generosity, the woman nodded zealously in response. Oddly, it was as if he had somehow understood her, without having to explain much at all. Their eyes met only briefly before the mysterious figure's gaze swiftly flickered towards the end of the street. "Y – Yes, Sir. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
And like a ghost, the now beaming woman then vanished into the shadows of a nearby alleyway just as quickly as she had appeared.
Wordlessly, the trio continued on and soon came to a halt just below a street sign plaque affixed onto a blackened, brick wall. Diamond Lane, it barely read, the town's soot having darkened what was previously clean, white lettering.
"We're finally here, girls," the leading figure of the group pronounced proudly, a sly grin forming underneath their bowler hat at the irony of the situation.
As the group lifted their chins up, the shadows that had once been casted over their features then disappeared as the sun's rays illuminated their faces. In that moment, female complexions were revealed to be concealed underneath the guises of what appeared to be three men. However, one needed more than just a quick glance over to be able to come to the definite conclusion that they were, instead, women and not the opposite sex they had effectively emulated.
Their locks of hair had been neatly tucked away beneath their hats using numerous hairpins to keep them in place. Their breasts had been flattened down tightly by cummerbunds. Phoney and rather itchy moustaches had been plastered above their firm upper lips, with each of the girls sporting a different style in an attempt look less inconspicuous. By simply adding a deep, masculinized voice, they could easily be mistaken for men.
"Coppers at nine-o'clock," the one named June Scully muttered in a thick, cockney accent, her hazel-coloured orbs attentively following the two uniformed officers meandering through the crowd nearby. Her left foot began to tap absently against the cobbles as she surveyed the rest of the bustling scene.
The burliest and more masculine of the bunch no doubt, June Scully actually looked more like a man compared to some of the real men wandering about Small Heath. Although a tad on the short side, June's height didn't impede her from being fiercely intimidating. After all, she was more brawn than brains. Along with the other attire, June also sported a pair of silver wire-framed spectacles and a matching coloured signet ring on her right hand.
"No need to get nervous, aye." This time, it was Lilian Partridge who had spoken, a hint of mockery in her words as she motioned towards June's unstill member.
Like June, she, too, had a similar cockney drawl. Lilian, however – or Lily to those she knew – was conversely pale and thin-framed. Her large, baby blue eyes and rounded face sprinkled with coffee coloured freckles bestowed her with a fragile and girlish demeanour. However, those who were well acquainted with Lily knew that the latter couldn't be farther from the truth. She was head-strong and untamed, countering whatever angelic aura of innocence many erroneously assumed she possessed, more specifically men. Although oftentimes annoying, this was a tool that Lily had actually many times before used to her advantage.
June scoffed in response at her friend's quip. "It's the bloody excitement pumping in my blood, Lily." The woman then turned her head to her side to acknowledge the tall, silent figure that had led them to their current location. "Eva, would you look at the sight of that display ova' there? I can't say I've seen anything more beautiful in my life."
Nestling a newly lit, white cigarette between her plump lips, Eva Crawford's verdant gaze flickered towards the jewellery shop perched in the centre of Diamond Lane. Goldstein's Jewellers read the gleaming, embellished store sign presented obnoxiously above its grand entrance.
It wasn't too difficult for a jewellery shop such as Goldstein's to look so oddly out of place in a town like Small Heath. Displayed across its vast, glass storefront was a kaleidoscope of precious gems and expensive, ornate pieces of bijouterie, glistening magnificently underneath the soft, yellow glow of the ceiling light fixtures. Beyond the storefront, the interior harboured an array of vitrines and wooden cabinets containing an even wider range of jewellery and other objects, including flamboyant pieces of decoration and the finest silverware. Standing behind one of the many glass vitrines was a tall, immaculately dressed gentleman, seeming far too preoccupied in wiping the glass clean with a white cloth.
"Right," Eva began, instantaneously capturing both June and Lily's attention. She fumbled for more cigarettes in her coat pocket before passing them onto her partners, who accepted the gesture with a nod of the head. Bringing a lit up match to the ends of their cigarettes, Eva added, "This is going to be quick and easy, girls. Last stop in Birmingham before we head back down to London a few thousand pounds richer."
June whistled in response at Eva's statement while billowing out a plume of grey smoke.
"As you know, Maggie is waiting for us in the car down that alley over there." Eva gestured discreetly towards the aforementioned alleyway perched not too far from the jewellery shop. In the alleyway, the woman by the name of Margaret – a slender beauty sporting a three-piece suit of her own and a pair of black sunglasses – waited patiently in a sleek, beige coloured Rolls Royce automobile while she smoked a pipe.
Eva then glanced down at her silver pocket-watch. "It's nearly half past seven. At this time of day, only one man is present at the jewellers to open up shop. Another one will soon join him just before eight-o'clock, entering through the front entrance."
In unison, the trio scanned the jewellery store once more, noting how the lone gentleman in its interior continued on with the meticulous wiping down of the glass displays.
"Usually, there's always one copper standing at the entrance," Eva continued. "Except, the copper, as we found out, is a lazy bastard and only shows up to work at around about quarter past eight. Still, we need to watch out for those other coppers June pointed out. All in all, that means we've got – "
"Roughly fourty-five minutes," June finished.
"Roughly fourty-five minutes before a copper arrives," Eva confirmed. "June, as you know, the store isn't open up yet. But you already know what to do to make him let you in." June nodded knowingly in response as she dragged out from her a pocket a red, silk handkerchief twisted into a ball, seemingly containing a cluster of small, round shaped objects.
Eva acknowledged June's action with a nod. "Lily, we'll be the ones doing most of the snatching. We'll have to go through the back. Remember, quick but discreet."
June soon finished her cigarette, discarding it swiftly onto the cobblestones below. There was a gleam to June's eyes as she turned towards the women. "I'm off, girls."
With that, both Eva and Lily watched attentively from afar as June casually approached the towering doors of Goldstein's Jewellers, giving it a solid knock and instantly grabbing the attention of the man locked inside. Initially, the gentleman simply pointed coolly towards the sign reading Closed. However, once June opened up her red handkerchief and revealed the objects that were wrapped within, there was an instantaneous and rapid change in the man's posture. Although still seemingly reluctant, he stepped towards the doors, unlocking them for June and allowing her – well, him, for all this poor man knew – to enter the establishment.
Once June was safely inside the store, Eva threw a knowing look over at her partner, Lily. "May the Devil himself drag us to hell first before a copper ever does."
"Amen," Lily responded as she discarded her cigarette onto the cobblestones below.
With large grins planted across both their faces, they pulled down their bowler hats and made their way towards the store.