The wind was bitterly cold as Saoirse eyed the Shelby office building, holding the skirt of her dress down with one hand and keeping a grip of her handbag with the other. Doing her best to ignore the wolf whistles and leering stares of men outside the building next door, Saoirse climbed the concrete stairs to the door and took a deep breath before knocking. She chewed at her lips as she waited for someone, anyone, to answer and just as she was about to turn back around, a gruff voice commanded her to enter. With sweating palms, she smoothed down her dress and pushed open the door to a building that was surprisingly bright and clean smelling considering it was nestled in between two large warehouses.
A man sat behind the desk with dark hair and a crisp suit that seemed almost out of place in this part of the city where most men worked in warehouses and factories. Glancing around the office, Saoirse was somewhat taken aback by the grandeur and decadence of the place, right down to the shiny deep mahogany of the wood and the delicate and expensive looking light features that hung from the ceilings. Even the carpet beneath her feet spoke of expense and she had to resist the urge to take off her freshly polished shoes and sink her feet into the thick plush carpet that almost felt like walking on air. It seemed so luxurious to have carpet, let alone one so thick and pale in colour when there must be workmen trampling in and out of here often.
"Can I help you?" he asked, finishing up whatever it was he was doing, and Saoirse was momentarily awe struck completely by the sight of the bluest eyes she had ever seen.
Saoirse's own eyes travelled further down his face to be met with a nose that was regal yet had clearly been broken more than once judging by the bump on the ridge, and lips that were full and pouty yet not feminine. Far from it, in fact. There was an air of danger and utter masculinity about him, and she wasn't sure why, but she found herself thinking it to be rather attractive. He looked as though he could kill a man with his bare hands if the mood took him and then turn up at a fancy club and act the epitome of the word gentleman. He was the exact sort of man that she would expect to work for the Shelbys.
"Miss? I asked if I can help you?" he spoke once more in that quiet yet strong tone of voice.
"Oh, sorry," she shook her head, bringing herself back to the present, a blush colouring her cheeks. "Yes, I, uh, I'm here about the job advertisement in the paper."
The man sat back in his chair, his expression cool and unreadable, and uttered not a word. He just eyed Saoirse shrewdly until she eventually stammered out a sentence.
"Um, so I'm here to apply for it."
"Well, I guessed as much," the man eyed her almost indifferently. "Take a seat. "
"Pardon?" she frowned.
"I said take a seat," the man repeated, a tinge of impatience in his voice and his nostrils flared ever so slightly. "May as well interview you now seeing as you're here."
"Now?" Saoirse's eyes widened. She had not been expecting this. " Now. Yes. Uh, of course. "
"What's your name?"
"Uh, Saoirse O'Reilly."
"Irish?"
"My parents were, yeah," she nodded.
"Were?" the man asked.
"They're dead. My Mum died of flu when I was seven and my Dad died of the same thing the following year."
"So, you grew up with relatives then?"
"Well, no," she squirmed uncomfortably. She hated talking about her childhood. Especially the part about where she went after the death of her parents. People either looked at her with pity or distaste. That was one of the things she had loved about Joe right from the beginning. He had never looked at her like that.
"Care to elaborate?" the man raised an eyebrow.
She didn't really want to. She detested talking about what happened to her after her parents' deaths, but there was something in the man's eyes that made her open her mouth and start talking regardless.
"My Dad was Protestant and my mum was Catholic, so as I'm sure you can guess, their families didn't approve of their being together. Also, my mum was pregnant with me before they got married so that just added to the scandal. Which is why they moved to Liverpool; to start a new life where no one would know them, and because my Dad had a friend at the time who got him a job and helped them find a place to live. When my Dad died, the council tried to contact the small number of living relatives I had left in Ireland, but none of them wanted what they deemed a half breed bastard. They didn't care that my parents were actually married by the time I was born. Anyway, I'm rambling, sorry. So, after they died, I got sent to St Bernadette's orphanage."
"St Bernadette's in Liverpool?" the man raised an eyebrow when Saoirse nodded. " I've heard some things about that place. A cousin of ours was in there years ago, before my grandfather managed to get her out. "
"She was lucky then because I'll guarantee none of the things she had to tell you about the place were good."
"Let's just say I wouldn't ever see any kid go in there if I could help it," the man sneered.
Saoirse blinked. She wouldn't wish that place on her worst enemy let alone a child. It was cold and dark and a place devoid of any love. If a child did the slightest thing wrong, they were punished, usually in the form of lashings with a cane. And if they cried during their punishment, they only received more lashings. The children never smiled or laughed with one another. Instead, they would walk with their heads down, always too fearful of getting caught by one of the Nuns who ruled the place with iron fists and wooden rods. There was a reason why those who had chosen to be married to God didn't have children, and the Nuns at St. Bernadette's were the perfect examples of that.
During those first few years, she had held onto a false hope that she might one day be saved from what she had considered hell on earth and start a new life with a new family, but those who wanted to adopt cared only for babies and small infants that would never remember their previous lives and their real parents. As the hope inside her had dissipated, the strength to continue and thrive somehow only grew stronger. She had refused to allow herself to become beaten and downtrodden. Instead, she learned how to be the model orphan, and made a promise to herself that when she left she would do everything she could to better herself. Never again would she live feeling like she owed anybody anything. She would live for herself and no one else.
So, she had. She left that orphanage on the day of her sixteenth birthday with her head held high and never looked back, not once. She remembered that it had been raining furiously that day, and as she walked through the cobbled streets to the halfway house she was to board in, she clutched her little wicker bag to her chest and smiled. The rain had been so pure and cleansing. It was as though it was washing away the remnants of her old life and preparing her for the new one that was about to begin.
"Despite my, shall we say, difficult upbringing, I can assure you it hasn't left its mark on me," she told the man, imploring him with her eyes to believe her. For the most part it was the truth. Any memories, good or bad, from her time in the orphanage were kept locked away in a part of her mind that she refused to ever visit if she could help it. "And I've done alright for myself considering. I've worked from the second I left the orphanage. I didn't care what job, only that it paid the bills and gave me enough money to try and broaden my horizons. I put myself through night school to learn secretarial and accountancy skills, which I passed with flying colours. During the war I even worked for the home office as a typist," She told him, pulling out the paper certificates and placing them on the desk for the man to see. "After the war, I worked as an assistant secretary for the doctor's surgery in Bootle for almost four years, where I helped with the accounts from time to time. I only left because my fiancé had to relocate here for work, otherwise I never would have left. You can be assured that I wasn't let go or anything like that. I've even got a glowing reference in here from the doctor. Let me just find it for you."
As the girl rifled through her handbag, Tommy watched her with interest. Her long hair was the same rich colour of the chestnut broodmare his uncle owned back when he was a child, and her eyes were the colour of jade and amber merged together in one. The light dusting of freckles on her button nose was endearing as well as hugely attractive, but it was the aura of innocence about her that he appreciated the most. And God only knew that not very much in Tommy Shelby's life was innocent. Her voice was soft and gentle, yet she spoke with a conviction that told of someone who wanted to be taken seriously in life and wouldn't give up easily. She smiled triumphantly when she pulled out the reference she had been looking for and he was momentarily taken aback by the sweet radiance of that smile. Glancing down briefly at the papers in front of him, Tommy realised he didn't give a stuff about her qualifications or references. He just knew that there was something intriguing about her and he wanted to find out more. More than what background checks and his informants in Liverpool could tell him.
"Well, I think I've seen and heard everything I need to," he cleared his throat, passing the documents back across the desk.
Saoirse blinked, realising that he had not actually asked her much of anything. Her shoulders sunk and she knew that she would be going home still unemployed.
"Can you start tomorrow?"
"Pardon?" she frowned, unsure that she had heard the man correctly. " You mean I got the job? "
"Well yeah," the man bit his cheek to hide his smile, unable to break the facade he worked hard to maintain, especially not in front of this woman he barely knew.
"Oh, thank you so much," Saoirse smiled. "I don't know what to say. Thank you, honestly. "
"You already said that. Twice."
"That's because I really mean it," she answered, stuffing her papers back into her handbag and closing the clasp. "May I ask one thing though? "
The man nodded sharply.
"Do you think Mr Shelby will approve? That's to say, I've heard he's rather, erm, selective about who he employs, and do you not think you should run it by him before you hire me?"
Tommy grinned, unable to help himself, and Saoirse was awed by the way it transformed his serious face.
"I'm pretty certain Mr. Shelby will be fine with you working here. In fact, I know he's fine with it," he answered, his eyes alive with mirth.
And then that was when it hit her.
"Oh God," she groaned, covering her face with her hands. "You're Mr Shelby, aren't you? God, you must think I'm a right idiot."
"On the contrary," Tommy smirked. " It was rather nice to remain anonymous for a short while. "
"Yeah, it must be hard work sometimes trying to have a normal conversation and having people petrified that you're about to take them outside and smash their face in or something worse," Saoirse clapped a hand over her mouth in horror as she realised what she had said.
"Only if they're lucky," he muttered, enjoying the way she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
"I didn't mean to offend you, Mr Shelby," she grimaced, and Tommy found himself entranced by the way her pert little nose crinkled. " And I'm fairly certain I'm never going to live this down. "
"We'll keep it between ourselves, don't worry," he promised her. " So usually, I ' d ask you to be here at eight but tomorrow I want you to come at nine thirty because I have a meeting first thing in the morning that I don ' t require your attendance for. Is that acceptable?"
"Perfectly," Saoirse nodded, rising to her feet.
Tommy stood at the same time as she and shook the hand that was being offered to him. Her hand was so small that his own much larger one engulfed it. Saoirse swallowed nervously as a frisson of something shot up her arm as their hands touched. With a small smile, she took her hand back and headed towards the door.
"Thank you so much again for the opportunity, Mr Shelby," she said before turning and heading out of the door.
"The pleasure's all mine," Tommy mumbled to himself before quickly calling her name a little louder. "Oh, and Miss O'Reilly, despite what some people around here may tell you, I only hurt those who deserve it."
She swallowed nervously and left without another word.
That evening when Joe returned home from work, he found Saoirse in the kitchen adding the finishing touches to dinner just like the previous night.
"Hello sweetheart," he chucked his hat down on the side and kissed her cheek. "Somethin' smells good. "
Saoirse smiled and held the serving spoon up to his mouth. He blew on the steaming hot sauce the dinner was cooking in before swallowing.
"Mm, tastes good too," he grinned. " So, you've been busy today, I see. "
"That I have," Saoirse nodded, serving up the sausage casserole into bowls. "And I've even made enough for tomorrow because I'm not sure if I'll be home for dinner. "
"And why's that?" Joe frowned.
"Oh, you know, because I'm employed now," she smirked flippantly.
"You got the job with the Shelbys?" he smiled. " That's wonderful news. I knew you could do it, clever girl. But hang on," he frowned, lowering his voice. "What about the fact that the big, bad Shelbys are gangsters?" he asked, his eyes wide in mock horror.
"Oh, shut up," she smacked him on the arm.
In truth, she had not even given it a second thought. There was just something about Tommy Shelby that made her think she wouldn't have said no to the job offer even if she had wanted to.
"Well, I think this calls for a wee celebration," Joe announced, pulling a bottle of whiskey out of the cupboard. He poured two shots into two glasses and slid one across the worktop towards her. "To new beginnings."
"To new beginnings," Saoirse echoed, as their glasses clinked together.
As Joe carried the plates over to the table, Saoirse smiled to herself. She had a feeling that life in Small Heath was going to be full of plenty of surprises.