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Florence was standing behind the counter of The Garrison, wiping down the sleek wooden countertop when Arthur Shelby suddenly came bustling in.
He looked around the pub, clearly searching for somebody. When his eyes landed on Florence, he approached her at the counter. She noticed that he was holding a few books in his hands, and looked quite rugged.
"You," He spoke, pointing to the woman. "You're the girl from the races, ay? Tommy's friend, what was it... Florence?"
Florence nodded hesitantly. She was unsure, and slightly afraid, of where the conversation was going. Grace was behind the counter as well, pretending that she wasn't listening.
"I need your help with something." He continued. "I'll clear the place out if you carry a few boxes in 'ere for me."
Florence narrowed her eyes. "What's in them?"
"Cigarettes." He answered plainly. "They're out back near the door."
She nodded and set the rag in her hand down, deciding to help the man out. It wouldn't kill her to carry a couple of boxes, and now that her vendetta against Thomas had died down, she was willing to help. When she walked to the back of the pub and stepped outside, she saw the two boxes stacked atop one another. She knew she wouldn't be able to pick them up at the same time so she picked the first one up and carried it back inside. The box was damp and smelled of something rotten, making her grimace. She heard muffled yelling coming from the bar. When she walked into the pub, she saw that Arthur had successfully emptied the place of all it's customers.
Arthur motioned for her to follow him and she did so, walking towards Harry's office. She set the box down on the table before grabbing the other box, which was just as bad and as heavy as the first. She had no idea that packs of cigarettes could weigh so many pounds.
"Could you grab a pack for me?" Arthur asked when he saw Florence walk back through the door.
She replied with a hum and a nod. She opened it up, seeing the tons of cigarette cartons. She picked one up, which felt damp and had small teeth marks all along the sides. She immediately assumed rats had gotten into them.
"These boxes smell like shit." Florence stated to Arthur. "And rats have clearly gotten into them."
She walked over to Arthur and handed him the pack, who shrugged his shoulders in response.
"Did you steal these?" Florence asked jokingly, crossing her arms as she watched Arthur set the carton on the desk.
"Don't ask." Arthur replied, making Florence's laugh quickly disappear.
She looked over her shoulder and saw Grace still standing at the counter, cleaning off a few of the glasses. She didn't seem to be listening. Florence wasn't going to take any chances, so she pushed the door closed.
