Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
February 1919.
Nancy Marie Cochran is a very clumsy little girl. This is known by many - most of this 'many' being the residents of Watery Lane who've witnessed her great tumbles to the cobblestone streets or her face being practically flattened on one side where she's smacked herself into the door of the Garrison so much. Hell, the whole town probably remembers the time when she was eight and she fell off the back of her dad's shire horse trying to ride it in the middle of the square. Brought her to tears when she landed on her backside in front of so many people (about forty, she'd counted in the midst of her embarrassment), the kids at school wouldn't shut up about it for weeks.
She was a hard character to miss about Small Heath; you could hear the girl before you ever saw her coming round a corner or pushing her way through a crowd. Be it the scuffle of her worn mary-janes or the shrill bellows coming from her lips at a distance, little Nancy Cochran was nothing if not clumsy, chaotic and most importantly consistent.
Like on this particular strike of the midday clock, the sound of the chime fighting its way through the thick industrial smog and the nipping cold. It was that time of year where a bridge between winter and spring was slowly building, but it was still fucking cold regardless of the proximity to the vernal season. Because of this, Nancy was running about town in her long woollen school skirt and her winter jumper with a baggy hem (and frayed sleeves from where she's either chewed on it or caught it on something and ripped a couple stitches). It was comfortable, protective from the cold, but it was by no means practical for cantering around town in. Not that she'd ever consider that fact, not before it quite literally hit her in the face.
"Thomas! Tommy!" The girl had called out, definitely loud enough for the stoic man to hear because a few men around him on the streets had started scoffing and heckling at the girl's shrieking. Heaving a childish sigh, Nancy scoffed at the audacity of such a grown man, "Mister Shelby!"
At that, Mister Thomas Shelby had stopped in his tracks and turned to face the thirteen-year-old. A child, Nancy thought, a child with the temperament of a man. Looking up at the man, she skidded to a stop, thankfully stopping on her feet. Flat on her feet - a rare sight, a sign of momentousness. Tommy Shelby's face was one she'd grown familiar with over the last year, so much so that the sharp apples of his cheeks and electric hues in his eyes didn't scare her anymore like they used to when she was nine.
"Never once have I seen you run across this street and land on your feet, Nance. What's so important?" His bright blue eyes were amused, something you'd rarely find in the sight of a veteran. He was looking down at her with his hands shoved carelessly into his pockets, and Nancy could see the twinkle of the razor blade stitched into his flat cap. Yet again, that became something that couldn't scare her off.
The girl became somewhat timid under his heavy, expectant stare, "Finn's been talking down my mum's shop to all the littl'uns, probably spinning yarns knowing your brother but they was all hanging onto his every word so I'm assuming-"
"Nancy," Tommy barely had to raise his voice louder than Nancy's, but a mere croak of his voice reduced the girl to patient silence once again, "Spit it out."
"He said you did a spell on your horse, my Dad's horse, and words got around to Arthur real quick and he's pissed- I mean, he's angry, he's very angry, Tommy."
The man's eyes thawed from its icy glaze so slightly at the mention of her father, and he threw his head back up from where it was bent to hear the girl better. He simply nodded in thanks and moved to turn back around down the street. Until Nancy Cochran called out once again.
"Wait a moment!" The girl was fishing through her satchel's front pocket, smiling victoriously when she pulled a paper sack from her bag and held it out to Tommy hopefully. He knew what was in the bag: he could hear the rattle of rhubarb and custard sweets as she wrenched them from her satchel's depths. A Shelby family favourite from Mrs Cochran's sweet shop at the end of the lane.
"Mum told me to give you these, to say thank you for getting her medicine from London." Nancy's once glowing smile became timid and awkward while she waited for Tommy to just take the damned sweets.
Eventually - after what felt like a millennia but was realistically about five whole seconds - the Shelby man's hand outstretched and took the open end of the bag into his fist, giving a rare, tight-lipped smile to the girl before walking towards the betting shop with a looming feeling of disquiet.
elizabeth chats utter shit !
. that's the first chapter done! like i said, this act is kind of like a prologue, so i've written it like short snippets of nancy throughout season one and getting to know her before she grows up !
