Chapter 3

London

Airship Adelisa Aiglentine

Dec. 12, 1919

Aoife POV

As predicted once they hit English airspace no one got any rest. Half the men were hanging from rigging and prepping for docking. While the other half were making sure that the paperwork for the imported shipments in their holds were all in meticulous order. They didn't need any questions about what they were shipping being asked when they would be 'searched' by the Tariff Officers. Aoife swung down from the crows nest, leaving one of the crew to continue looking out for other traffic in the airlane. The bitter chill in the English winter air was just about bone rattling. The hum of the turbine at the ships rear was loud and thumping in the quietness of the morning. She landed on deck with a catlike grace that only those in her family seemed to have. She took the stairs down into the forward cabin two at a time and spotted Aine on the communicator requesting permission to dock with the London control center. She knew all three of her brothers would be double and triple checking that everything and everyone was in order before they'd be boarded by the port authorities.

Considering she needed to catch the first tram north towards Birmingham that she could she wanted to double check that she had the necessities packed in her small carpet bag and change from her airman's clothes to those more fitting of a lady on the ground. She headed straight for her private cabin one more deck below. Her traveling bag still sat on the desk by the porthole and she rummaged through it one last time. Everything seemed to be in order. She didn't think she'd be spending more than an hour or two in Birmingham at most but just in case something unforeseen happened she'd at least have an extra set of clothes and the required overnight accessories. Checking her satchel her papers were all in order and her passport was tucked safely inside. She would be able to travel about England unhindered.

Now for warm winter Grounder clothing. Hmm...a heavy emerald green woolen skirt that latched tightly around her hips and remained loose down her lower half. Matched with a long sleeved, high neck, button front shirt and a gray knitted wrap cardigan that had a leather strap closure on the side. To go with her sturdy flat boots. Yep, warm for the winter weather, comfortable enough for ground travel and yet nice enough for a business meeting. She wasn't one to do a whole lot with makeup or fancy hairdo's but a light application of the basics and a couple of barrettes to keep her hair out of her face and she was ready to disembark the Adelisa. Now she just had to make sure Joseph Merle was ready too and of course strap her lovely little dirk on her thigh underneath her skirt. Better to be prepared and safe than sorry. A girls gotta look out for herself after all, and she'd heard Birmingham, especially this Small Heath place wasn't the friendliest place in town.

***************0***************

Tramline 4 from London to Manchester

Dec. 12, 1919

Birmingham Station 2pm

Aoife and Joseph stepped off the tramline at the Birmingham Station. It was an industrial town. The factories puffing away with smoke and ash billowing upwards into the sky. The haze from the pollutants so thick you couldn't even see any blue in the sky, you'd think it's color was a dull greyish brown. The streets were mud covered, if there was any type of stone beneath it at all to begin with. Puddles of water and whatever the residents and shopkeepers kept pouring out into the street riddled the already unstable ground. Breathing required extra effort because it wasn't clean air you were breathing in but dust and ash.

"And here I thought London was bad Miss Aoife. This is a right mess of a town."

"Oh Joseph, you're such a diplomat, I think you're being far to kind in your descriptors."

"Well it's obviously some peoples home, wouldn't want to be offensive."

"And right you would be Joseph. Let's see if we can't find a conveyance to deliver us to the Garrison Pub. I'm somewhat put off of walking down the streets."

"Aye Miss."

They made their way down the platform and over to the nearest mechanical conveyance ready to taxi fares to their destinations. The black metal cab was round and it had multiple long spindly limbs to lift the carriage up and travel down the road. Had to be one of SpiderCo's machines as they always tried to make their machines resemble arachnids in some way. The driver sat atop his platform fiddling with his gauges and dials.

"Oi! How much for two to the Garrison Pub in Small Heath, good sir?"

"Small Heath? What ya want ta go there fer? That's not a place fer good people, especially not a woman the likes of ya. Nothin' there but liars, thieves, rapists and murderers. Why don't ya tell me wha' you're looking fer and I can guarantee ya a better place ta find it."

"Oh can you now. Well then I'm looking to find me the Garrison Pub because I have a business meeting there. Now how much?"

"Lady, ya ain't goin' ta find anyone round these parts willin' ta go inta Small Heath let alone all the way ta the Garrison Pub down in Garrison Court. I'll take ya as far as the corridor fer two shillings. Mayhap you'll be able ta find a resident willin' ta take ya the rest 'o the way."

"Well then...on to the corridor."

Joseph helped Aoife up into the carriage and climbed in after. The whizzing and whirring of the engine firing up created a cacophony of sound around them before they were lifted into the air and they began making their way down towards this corridor to Small Heath."

"Joseph how's our time? I hate being late but this is somewhat ridiculous, no one willing to go into a part of their own damn city. Don't even get me started with the tram delay."

Joseph checked his pocket fob before placing it back in his vest pocket. "Depending on how far we'll have to go once we get to the corridor we might just make it on time Miss Aoife."

"I hate ground travel Joseph."

"Aye, once you've traveled by sky everything else is just a hassle."

Aoife settled into her seat as best she could and turned her gaze out to the streets of Birmingham. The ride was not the smoothest she'd had but she had an inkling the spindly legs of her chosen conveyance managed to travel the streets smoother than others could.

After a while of jostling about the conveyance engines began to slow which signaled an end to their journey and not just a traffic jam, thank god. The carriage gently dropped to the ground and Joseph helped Aoife out and onto the muddy street. Looking up at the driver she decided to give asking directions a go with the man. If he'd be any help or not was questionable.

"Here's your fare. Would you happen to be able to give us directions to our destination?"

"Sorry Miss, never venture there meself I'm just as apt ta get ya lost as the next person."

"Well, thank you anyway, have a good rest of your day sir!"

The driver tipped his hat and restarted his engines before puttering back towards the tramline.

"Well Joseph, it looks like we're going to be in for a bit of an adventure. Shall we be on our way?"

"Aye Miss."

They looked in the direction they were meant to head and neither one of them particularly wanted to continue on but business is business. The road was narrow and lined with grimy brick buildings that never seemed to end. The bricks could at one point in time have been red but now with age and pollutants was a dark brown leaning to black. The corridor looked like one long unending dark tunnel. Hopefully they'd be able to find someone trustworthy enough to get good directions from. With a deep breath and a lift of her skirt Aoife led the way down into Small Heath.

After a good distance of walking Aoife finally started to notice some inhabitants. Shops were open and kids were playing in the mud. An older child seemed to be helping out at a butchers. She supposed she didn't have anything to lose by asking if he knew where she could find the Garrison.

"Hey Lad, would you be able to point me in the direction of the Garrison Pub?"

"The Garrison, Ma'am?"

"Aye, I have a business meeting there."

The butcher who'd been listening from the door spoke up then, the boy must have been his apprentice or perhaps even his son.

"Who's your meeting with?"

"Shelby."

"Go on and show the lady to the Garrison Danny. Paul will finish up loading the wagon."

Aoife looked at the man and gave him a brief smile and nod with a polite thank you. He nodded and waved them on.

Danny moved quickly but not to quickly for a woman in a skirt to keep up. They moved around corners and down what were surely alleys and not streets but within a few minutes of feeling like she was getting lost in the maze of buildings, the alleyway they were in emptied out onto a busy street. Danny pointed to the building across the way with windows lining the front and a large dangling sign that clearly said The Garrison Pub. Aoife reached into her satchel and pulled out a coin for the lads troubles. It seemed to please him as he said his thanks and dashed back the way they'd come.

"Finally here Joseph. What's our time look like?"

"3:55"

"Perfect, let us do some business and then get our butts back into the sky, eh?"

"Aye Miss, the sooner the better, my legs aren't used to surfaces that don't move."

Aoife's laughter for her friends predicament followed her into the Garrison as she pushed open the heavy wooden door and entered the pub.

A quick perusal showed a pride of ownership - the wood gleamed and the bottles and glasses on the shelves were sparkling. The room was sufficiently lit even though it would seem a hard place to get any natural light inside. An effect that was apparently achieved by the stained glass dome located in the center of the room. She could see the large vats tucked away in one corner of the room where they no doubt made their own house lager. All their steam pipes, gauges and dials gleamed as though they'd just been polished.

There was a staircase in the back corner leading to second floor that most likely housed rooms to rent and a portion of the bar looked as though it was cordoned off into a private room. Definitely a well kept and clean establishment. Not at all what she'd been expecting from the outward appearance. She heard the low toned "wow" that Joseph let out beneath his breath.

"Books and covers Joe, books and covers."

"Yes'm"

The Garrison Pub

3:30pm

Tommy POV

Tommy and John opted to walk over to the pub for their meeting. It was a nice enough day out and the weather seemed promising.

"How you hoping to play this deal Tommy?"

"As honestly as possible John. Alfie has made it clear that we'll be held responsible in his eyes if things get cocked up for him with them. I don't need anymore shit on my plate to deal with. The last thing I want right now is to have to deal with the Camden man."

The rest of their short walk was made in silence. They made their way into the pub and up to the bar. Harry was back behind the counter and immediately pulled down a bottle of Rum and sat it on the bar in front of them with a quiet "no charge Mr. Shelby". Tommy nodded in acknowledgement. But it was Johns voice that filled the silence.

"Harry we're going to need an extra glass. Our future associates should be arriving at 4, bang the snug when they get here, yeah?"

"Aye Mr. Shelby."

Tommy grabbed the rum and John grabbed the glasses before they disappeared back into the snug to await their associates.

"Alfie say anything about them Tommy, what to expect from um?"

"Just said it was a family business, two will come today, we'll talk business, they'll take it back ta the rest and come ta a decision about it as a group. Didn't mention anything else."

"Hmm."

A gentle laughter of the feminine variety wafted into the snug from the front room. It managed to still both men in the booth. John gently and quietly opened the snug window a crack so they could hear more clearly what was going on. Harry's voice came out strong but with a gentleness that he seemed to reserve for the odd lady that wandered in. "Sorry Miss the pubs closed til 6."

A sweet eloquent but decidedly foreign voice, a mixture somewhere between Irish, French and Colonial answered in return, "Oh is it. That's a shame. Well then, you wouldn't happen to know where I might find the man that goes by the name Shelby would you. I'm afraid I have a meeting set with him for today at 4 and I was told it was to be here at this pub."

"Oh I'm sorry Miss, yes, Mr. Shelby is already waiting for you. Just let me tell him you've arrived."

No reply came so surely she must have simply given him a nod, but they could hear Harry making his way over to the snug door. He knocked softly and John got up and swung the door open.

"Harry."

"Your associates have arrived."

Tommy wasn't in a position to see out into the pub from where he was sat, but he watched John closely as his brother took in the woman they'd be trying to do business with. John's eyes were calculating but immensely appreciative at the same time. So a woman, a looker at that. John turned back to him and announced non to quietly "It's a bloody woman Tommy."

"So it would seem, step aside and let her in John."

A petite little thing with an hourglass figure and the most extraordinary copper colored red hair came through the snug door. There was no smile on her heart shaped face only an arch of one of her brows that sat perfectly over stunning forest green eyes. Tommy sat, simply examining her for a moment. She was certainly a pleasure to look at and her voice was sweet to listen to. He had to admit to himself that he was coming up short of breath. He wondered if the beautiful creature before him had been blessed with any brains. It wasn't often that he came across any extraodinarily pretty women that had actual intelligence. He knew they existed, but they were a form of mythical creature in terms of actually meeting one. "Join us please?"

He watched as she gracefully sat in the booth across from him as John remained standing by the door. The older man that accompanied her came through and leaned against the wall on the other side of the door. So she was the mouth piece, the man was just the muscle.

"Would ya care for a drink?"

Aoife POV

Oh my, what did she just walk into. The blonde who'd opened the door was handsome in that boy next door kind of way. Wore his, no doubt, expensive suit, well, but then he had to go and open that mouth. Problems working with women it would seem. Oh well, not like she was going to be here long enough to even consider a little fun.

The voice that responded to the blonde however...well, oh my, indeed. Low, deep and slightly gravelly, yum. Just her luck he'd probably have a hook nose and be missing half his teeth. However upon stepping through the door she was greeted by yet another well dressed man. Ccan't go wrong with a tailored three piece suit. His face was chiseled, his cheekbones high and sharp. She felt for certain some women would kill to have those cheekbones, plus his full lips. Yet his face had just enough softness to its angles to keep it from being severe. It was those eyes of his though that lured you in she was sure of it. The dark undercut hair paired with those light bright blue eyes, like you were being looked at through a couple of glaciers. Aoife wasn't sure she'd ever even seen that shade of blue in the skies let alone on another person. Wonder if he has the same issues working with women as his brother does. There was no question they were brothers, while their coloring was different, they shared certain characteristics. Sometimes the differences in siblings surprised you but for the most part they usually shared the same views.

He was sizing her up just as she was him, she wondered what thoughts were going through his mind. While she could tell what he was doing, his face seemed an immovable mask, not showing any hint of what went on inside that head of his.

Tommy POV

"I'll pass on the drink but thank you for the offer. Are you going to have a problem dealing with a woman? If so I won't waste anymore of either of our time."

"John was just surprised. We weren't expecting ta have such lovely company. Perhaps you'd prefer some tea?"

"Hmm. Well as long as we're both on the same page. I'd actually prefer Whiskey, Irish. Rum isn't my drink."

"John, ask Harry for a whiskey for the lady."

John opened the window and spoke softly to Harry out in the bar before he placed a glass of whiskey on the table in front of the copper haired beauty.

"Shall we get down ta business. I'm Thomas Shelby that's my brother John."

"Pleasure to meet you gentlemen I'm sure. Name's Aoife Deveroux. I've been told that you boys are interested in trying to move a shipment of goods and were hoping to find an airship able to take it for you."

Tommy watched her face carefully. She had a good poker face, it was hard for him to decipher anything.

"That's right. One shipment, one time, for now. If we both find an accord with one another future shipments of other products may be in the cards."

"You'll have to understand Mr. Shelby, that we do a decent amount of business and are not in need of any other contracts than the ones we already have. We only agreed to meet with you because Alfie Solomons gave you a recommendation. Due to the nature of your business, we will need to know exactly what is in your shipment. Before we make any decisions to take it on."

Tommy knew she noted the change in the atmosphere around them. He didn't like the idea of anyone knowing what his cargo held. It wasn't their business and he was sure the ice in his eyes was conveying that.

"You can scowl at me all you wish Mr. Shelby. Surely a business man such as yourself, understands that we must take into account any and all possible issues that may arise from having your cargo onboard our ship. Not only for the knowledge of the consequences we may face if it's found, but also so that we may have plans made ready to implement in such an event. So as not to lose your cargo or get caught."

She remained silent and he took the time to take out a cigarette and light it up. Taking a few deep drags while he considered if it was worth it. She didn't seem to be intimidated by his cold demeanor.

"It seems Miss Deveroux we may 'ave wasted each others time after all. I can't tell ya what's in the cargo unless I already have your agreement of taking the shipment. You'll need to understand that the sensitive nature of my business requires me ta refrain from trusting anyone that doesn't have as much ta lose as I do."

"That's unfortunate Mr. Shelby. I do understand your concern. Unfortunately I'm not the only person who gets a say in whether your cargo goes aboard ship and my family will refuse without further information."

Tommy nodded in understanding before tipping his head back against the wall and closing his eyes as he puffed smoke towards the ceiling.

"How about I give ya the information that I'm comfortable givin'. Then ya take that back ta your airship and decide based on that information."

"I have to be honest. I don't particularly see a favorable outcome for you, nevertheless, tell me what you will and I will relay it."

Tommy pulled his head back up to look at the female across from him. Fuckin hell, why was nothing fuckin easy anymore.

"One crate, heavy... round about fifteen hundred pounds. Can't get to hot, would be dangerous if it did. Can't get wet...would ruin the contents if it did. I need it out of Birmingham, preferably out of England. I have a possible buyer in the Colonies. If I can't get it sold during transit then I'm willing for it ta be dumped at sea. I'll be out me own pocket but I don't want it fuckin back."

"I'm assuming the pub has a phone Mr. Shelby?"

"Aye, behind the bar."

"Let's see if we can't move this along faster shall we."

Tommy watched as she gave a look to her man, he stepped to her and she spoke quietly in his ear before the man left to make her call. He moved his eyes back to Aoife Deveroux who sat across from him, sipping her whiskey and studying him. She had a calculating look in her eyes, as though she was moving pieces around and putting them together like a puzzle inside her head. It worried him slightly, showed that the woman wasn't just a mouth piece for her family to simply relay information back to them. She was someone he'd need to watch himself with. One of the truly rare beauties who's outside played you into a false security of gullilble innocence. When there was most certainly a keen intelligence behind those mesmerizing forest green eyes.

"May I ask you a personal question Mr. Shelby?"

"If you're going ta get personal ya might as well stop with the Mr. Shelby bit. Names Tommy, suggest ya use it."

John remained quiet, standing still as a statue by the door but he knew she hadn't forgotten his brothers presence. He studied her as she looked down and fiddled with the black metal band that adorned her left hand middle finger, turning it round and round with her thumb. He waited until she lifted her head back up to meet his gaze head on.

"Do you care about your family Tommy?"

His eyes narrowed as he tilted his head to the side and considered her question. Where was this going? It almost sounded like it could be a threat. Yet he didn't know why she'd be threatening him. John had straightened up somewhat from his position, so he knew it wasn't just him that heard more in that question.

"That's an odd question ta ask Miss Deveroux."

Tommy noted the small smile that lifted the corner of her lips at his reply.

"Ah, you're paranoid... do you think I may have just threatened you Tommy? ...You can call me Aoife. It's a simple question. Take me for example, I care about my family Tommy. As upset as we can get at one another sometimes, at the end of the day we're family. When one of them hurts, I hurt for them. If I think one of them is in danger then I do what I must to protect them. Do you feel the same about your family?"

"I suppose I do Aoife. At the end of the day no matter what happens, blood is blood."

"Indeed."

"Why the odd question Aoife?"

"You're a difficult man to read. I'm simply putting the pieces together."

"Why would you need ta?"

Before she could answer him, her man came back in from the bar and whispered something in her ear. Then resumed his station opposite John. He studied her as she gazed off and ran her thumb over the pads of her fingers before scraping her nail over her bottom lip.

"Would you do absolutely anything for the sake of your family Tommy?"

"John, take Joseph ta enjoy a drink at the bar."

He watched as her man looked to her, she gave a small nod, letting the man know he was dismissed. Tommy waited until John and Aoife's man left the snug and the door closed behind them before returning his gaze to hers.

"I already have done everything imaginable for the sake of my family."

"Will you continue to do so?"

"Ta what end?"

"Admit the contents of your cargo and it will be removed from Birmingham. Shipped to its buyer or dumped in Davy Jones' Locker if no buyer is found. Given your description. I can ascertain that the contents of your shipment could most likely only be the crate of missing government arms and munitions and you want them gone. Say it and they will be."

Tommy glared across the table. His voice strong but low and cutting when he fiercly replied, "The GUNS are not spoken of. Understood?

He watched as she remained calm and seemingly unphased. She simply lifted one of her brows as if she was chastising him without words for the way he'd spoken to her. He closed his eyes and laid his head back against the wall once again. Without opening his eyes he fished out a cigarette, lit it and began taking deep drags once more. Smoke billowing from between his lips up towards the ceiling.

Her voice came softly to him and he breathed deep as it seemed to float around him. "If it makes you feel any better Tommy...I don't trust you either. We at least have that in common. You asked me why I would need to put the pieces together. Trust has to have some place to start."

"Ya said say it and it's done. So I suppose we both got what we wanted. You're telling me that we have an accord?"

Before she answered him he heard Arthur shouting his name from the bar. "Tommy...Tommy why the fuckin hell are you getting mail from fuckin Grace after all this god damn time. Huh!"

Arthur put more force into opening the snug door than necessary and it slammed against the wall. He made notice that Aoife Deveroux didn't even flinch. He maintained his calm tone when he answered Arthur, "What the bloody hell are ya going on about Arthur? I'm in a meeting."

Arthur threw the envelope in his hand onto the table, carrying on with his rant. "That is what I'm fuckin going on about Tommy. I thought she was out of our lives, but no, she's been fuckin writing ya all this time...hasn't she?"

Tommy picked the envelope up from the table and flipped it over to read the address labels. There was no return address but it sure as shit was Grace's handwriting. Why the fuck was she writing now. It'd been five fuckin years since he'd left her at the tramline to London.

"I don't bloody know why she's writing now Arthur. This is the first time I've heard from her in any way, since before we left for France."

"Yeah, she bloody fuckin left with half our coffers in her god damn pockets. So why the fuck is she writing ya."

Tommy finished his cigarette and stubbed it out in the tray on the table. Aoife was sitting quietly, simply observing away. "Perhaps now is not the best time Arthur."

"Why the fuck not?!"

"We have company."

At Tommy's stern tone Arthur shifted his focus in the direction Tommy's eyes were looking.

"Oh, pardon me darlin, I didn't realize we had such beautiful company."

Tommy watched as Arthur held out his hand for her to take, as he introduced himself and kissed her knuckles. He felt a strange pull in his gut as he witnessed it. Her face gave nothing away again but she softly smiled and told Arthur it was a pleasure to meet him.

Tommy set the unopened letter down on the table before moving for another cigarette. He missed the way Aoife scrutinized the handwriting on the letter while he was lighting up. When he turned his attention back to her, there was an odd expression on her face.

"Arthur we're in the middle of negotiations, why don't ya give us a few ta finish up."

"Actually Mr. Shelby, I'm afraid that we can't help you. I do hope that you find someone able to take care of your shipment for you."

"Wait a bloody minute, what the fuck just happened here. Why the sudden turn around."

Tommy saw a small flicker of what looked like regret pass through her eyes before she hardened them towards him.

"Unfortunately Mr. Shelby. My family doesn't do business of any kind with anyone that has connections to Grace Burgess."

Tommy closed his eyes and hit his head against the wall behind him. You've got ta be fuckin kiddin me. She's not even fuckin here anymore and she's still screwing me. Tommy lifted his head and he focused on Miss Aoife Deveroux who was fixing to get up and leave the snug, the fuckin pub and fuckin Birmingham. He had been so fucking close to an agreement with her.

"Miss Deveroux, I'm a man that enjoys privacy. Do I look like a man that tells people things? I don't share details of my life with others. So I'm gonna say this once. Grace Burgess is not in my life. She hasn't been for going on five years now. Six years ago she came into this very pub and got herself a job as the barmaid. We had an affection for one another. Then she betrayed me. Took off ta the colonies ta start a new. This fuckin letter is the only communication that I have had with her in all this time. Now, I don't fuckin know what issue ya have with Grace but I swear on me mothers' grave that whatever it is. It has no relevance on the Peaky Blinders. I will throw this letter in the god damn fire and watch it burn ta ash without ever opening it. That's how much I give a fuck about what's inside. Do not walk out that door because of my history with Grace Burgess."

Tommy stared into Aoife eyes hoping to god that she was willing to set aside the fact that he'd known Grace six years ago. He knew Grace was a cunning woman, who always thought about herself first and for most. He learned that the hard way. He didn't know what Aoife's experience with Grace was, but it clearly left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Aoife, we have nothing ta do with her anymore. She doesn't have ties ta anyone here in Birmingham."

Her voice was soft and gentle when she responded to him. He wasn't sure if it was because she was afraid to set him off or if she felt some sort of empathy for his predicament.

"I'm afraid I'll need to inform the others of your unfortunate connection to Miss Burgess. We'll need time to take this into consideration Mr. Shelby. I don't know you, so I don't trust you. It's nothing personal. I understand that this connection is a part of your history and that you are telling me it is not ongoing, nor is it recent. Your connection to Miss Burgess is worrisome and must be taken into account, before we can make our final decision. If I may have a number to reach you at? I will call when a decision has been made."

Tommy stared at her for another moment before turning to look at a bewildered and confused Arthur. Who'd done nothing but stand there the entire time his deal fell apart because he'd bloody well barged in and by some fuckin cock up of a coincidence thrown a fuckin letter from Grace on the table.

"Arthur...go and grab paper and pencil from the bar."

Arthur met his eyes and while his own were filled with cold anger his brothers looked slightly guilty. Well at least he bloody well understood he may have just fucked up business. Tommy watched Arthur leave and he was sure since the snug door was never closed behind Arthur after his spectacular entrance, John and the airman had heard everything as well.

Aoife POV

She made her way outside the Garrison into the dinginess of Small Heath with Joseph behind her. A folded piece of paper with only a connection number on it folded up in her satchel. She knew that her family was expecting to hear back from her about whether Mr. Shelby had agreed to terms. She just couldn't bring herself to call them and have the Grace conversation with them, while having Tommy listen in. There was no doubt he'd be listening in as hard as he could.

Grace Burgess, damn that woman got around didn't she. What were the odds. It was almost funny with how big of a coincidence it was. A small petty part of her, couldn't help but be a bit bitchy about the fact that Grace and Tommy had, had, affections for one another. Honestly were smart men really that stupid. Bad enough her brother had fallen in with that woman.

She would begrudgingly admit to herself that she had found Thomas Shelby to be quite an exquisite male specimen. His looks, his style, his voice, his intelligence and his loyalty to his family. Even the intensity of his demanding presence when he was trying to be intimidating. But Christ almighty his taste in women apparently sucked. Stupid butterflies in her stomach better fuckin settle down, nothing was going to be done about them in any way, shape or form. When it came to Tommy Shelby he was officially off limits. Grace fucking Burgess!

The barman Harry had been kind enough to give Joseph directions back to the tramline, while she had been occupied with Shelby. So she took Joseph's arm and they quickly made tracks. She just wanted to be aboard the Adelisa. Hopefully falling asleep to the gentle sway of the air currents. She would tell her family the information they needed to make an informed decision and then she would put one Thomas Shelby out of her thoughts for good. If by chance they agreed to take his shipment, well then Aine could deal with the man from here on out. No reason for her to suffer the mans presence any more than necessary.

Ugh...if she were superstitious she'd buy a little doll that resembled Grace and continuously stab it with needles. She knew it was silly, she hadn't been able to stand the woman when she'd been draped all over Carrick. She'd sucked it up and kept her mouth shut though. Wouldn't begrudge her brother happiness no matter who he found it with. Then the willowy blonde had to go and prove all her suspicions right. She didn't understand how the woman could pull the wool over the eyes of so many, when her true character was clear as day to her from the beginning. Oh fucking hell, why did she have to find Tommy Shelby attractive.

Garrison Pub

Tommy POV

He watched Aoife and her airman walk out the pub without even a backwards glance. How had things gone to hell so quickly. All because of an unmarked letter from Grace. It was clear that Aoife knew Grace well enough for her to recognize her handwriting just as he had. God he hadn't thought about Grace in years. He'd admit that the first couple of years she'd been gone, it had been her memory that he thought of in those dark freezing tunnels in France. They had been something bright and happy to focus on, instead of the tapping and scraping of the picks and shovels through the wall. Eventually not even the memories of her in better times could block them out. She faded from his mind, as he had so many other things to keep his mind occupied.

He debated on opening the damn letter. Why the fuck was she writing him after all this time. She'd more than likely, inadvertently cost him this business deal and he'd need to start looking into other avenues of removing the guns from Birmingham. He'd found Aoife to be intriguing and fuckin hell if she hadn't caused a stir of interest in his long frozen heart. Something that he hadn't felt in a very long time, not since before the war, since Grace.

John and Arthur entered the snug with a bottle of whiskey. John opened it and poured him a glass, keeping his thoughts to himself. Arthur on the other hand seemed to think it a good idea to start talking.

"Didn't mean ta cause no trouble with the shippers. I didn't think..."

"That's right Arthur ya don't think. I think. So ya don't have ta."

The snug descended back into silence as Tommy downed his whiskey and walked out of the bar, into the streets of his city. He just had to fuckin wait to hear back from the shippers. Till then he'd concentrate on his plans for Kimber.