𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙼𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿 - 𝚃. 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝙻𝙱𝚈

13

Juliet was sat with Arthur, helping the man with his count as he tries to organise the books for the Garrison in case the police came knocking to check their books to check where their income is coming from.

"30, 40, 50-"

"These cigarettes have a strange smell, Arthur," Grace calls to the man. "They smell like rotting water. And look, rats have got into some of them. They're stolen, are they not?"

"Don't ask," The man grumbles as Juliet begins correcting Arthur's poor maths.

"They smell because you keep them in the boat," Juliet mutters to the man.

"What do you care?" Arthur grunts, but it was directed more towards the blonde than the brunette woman Arthur adored.

You know, you should make a new start of this place," Grace says. "Do it properly. These cigarettes are not fit to sell"

"Smells like Gallipoli," Arthur says, taking a whiff of the cigarettes.

"You should find a new place to store them," Grace says and Juliet's eyes move to the woman who was asking a lot of questions.

"It has to be far away from coppers," Arthur says.

"Oh, but not rats," Grace retorts.

"All the wharves have rats, Grace,"

"What's wrong with a dry warehouse?"

"Tommy's orders,"

"What orders?"

"Always keep contraband near petrol boat moorings,"

"Don't boats get searched?"

"We moor them at junctions," Arthur says. "So there's more than one way out. No locks within a mile so we can move that stuff, fast"

"Your brother doesn't obey the law, but he has rules. Precise man, your brother," Grace says.

"Is my adding up right?" Arthur asks Juliet.

"It is now," Juliet says, placing the pen down.

Arthur nods.

"Thank fuck for that," Arthur says before leaving the Garrison.

"What's with all the questions, Grace?" Juliet asks.

"I'm just trying to grasp how things work around here," The blonde woman says, trying to avoid contact with Juliet.

Juliet had eyes that felt like when she looked at you, she could see all of you and the depths of your soul and Grace was terrified that she would figure out the real reason she was in Small Heath.

"Just be careful," Juliet sighs. "Many more questions and they'll think you're a copper"

Grace forces a laugh at the woman's word but a pit settled in her stomach and she knew that she'd have to warn Campbell that Juliet was getting close to uncovering the truth about her and it wouldn't be long until she put the pieces together.

Juliet hears a knock at her door and she sighs. She couldn't get a day of peace in Small Heath and it was beginning to get on her nerves.

She opens the door to reveal Tommy stood behind the door, his fist raised to knock again.

"Thomas,"

"May I come in?"

"Make yourself at home," Juliet says and Tommy brushes past her, sitting on her sofa before taking his hat off of his head. "What's the matter?"

"I need someone, Jules," Tommy says, using the nickname his brothers use for the girl. "Kimber has an adviser by the name of Roberts. He talks well as you know from the meeting at the Garrison. Keeps the accounts. Runs the legal side of the business"

"And you need a Roberts?"

"Arthur tells me you have ideas,"

"I'm not an accountant, nor a lawyer. I'm a writer,"

"Despite that, you have something I need," Tommy says. "Class. I need someone who looks right at the big meetings. Epsom, Ascot"

"Is this a job interview?" Juliet asks and Tommy shrugs.

"Arthur says you're good with numbers,"

"Oh, well, that's relative. Quite frankly, he's shit,"

"You keep the books in order,"

"They were chaotic. If coppers came sniffing it would have been quite clear you have another source of income" Juliet says.

Look, Jules," Tommy says. "You've washed up in a place you don't belong, for whatever reason. My good fortune"

"And perhaps mine,"

"You know that most of what I do is illegal?"

"I'm not thick Thomas,"

"And yet you'd still be willing to work for me?"

"Are you offering me the job? If so I accept," Juliet says.

"There's something else you should know," Tommy says. "A very important detail about my reasons for employing you"

Tommy cups Juliet's face in his hands and presses his lips to hers.

His kiss is not at all the same as those movie stars, but one steeped in a passion that ignites. It is the promise of realness, of the primal desire that lives in us all. And with it, he tells me that he is awake, connected within, that he embraces himself rather than hide as a copy of those romantic idols.

"You disappoint me,"

"You resign already?" Tommy asks.

"No. I think you'll find I am now motivated to become quite the model employee,"

"Tomorrow I'll show you around," Tommy says.

There I saw vulnerability in the eyes of the man who was scared of nothing but himself. The one who cared what a simple writer thought of him, her opinion being all that important to him. In that moment he wasn't a feared staple of Small Heath. He was just a man, a man that sat and basked in the glow of an angelic imaginative that ignited something in his soul. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on and yet he loved every moment.