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Days seemed tobe coming and going for Florence. She would wake up, work at The Garrison, go back home, and go to bed. Every single day.
She barely spoke to Grace anymore. After learning her true intentions for moving to Birmingham, Florence could hardly bring herself to even look at her friend. It was strange, part of her wished she never found out, but part of her wished Grace had just told her the truth upfront. Now she has to carry Grace's secret on her shoulders, and that was making it even harder to face Thomas.
She decided that the best thing for her to do, for the time being, was not allow any information to pass through her. When she told Grace she wouldn't promise her anything, she meant it. If the Peaky Blinders were as dangerous as everybody said, then they would potentially harm Florence if she sold them out. She didn't want that, nor did she want to be involved... And she didn't want Grace to be killed either.
It was better to simply pretend not to know anything. For everybody's sake.
And besides, she hadn't spoken to Thomas in nearly a week. She highly doubted they would ever speak much again, and if they did, it certainly wouldn't relate to the missing guns. Grace's plan wasn't going to work the way she was intending it to.
The Garrison was nearing closing time, so Grace and Harry were ushering drunken men out of the pub while Florence began to close up the bar. She offered to close by herself again that night. She had grown quite fond of it, it kept her out of the flat longer and it was a good distraction.
"Florence," Harry started as he approached her behind the counter. "Are you sure you want to close up by your lonesome tonight? The pub was much busier than usual today, you'd have a lot to do."
"I'm sure, Harry." Florence insisted. He was right, it was much busier that night. The pub was an absolute disaster. And she was perfectly willing to clean it all by herself.
Harry sighed. "Alright then." He said. "Well, Grace and I will be off. Make sure you lock the doors behind us, as always."
Florence nodded before the man walked off to gather his belongings. Grace was leading the last customer out of the pub. Once the intoxicated man was gone and the door was closed again, she followed Harry to the back. A few minutes passed before the two made their way to the front doors again. Grace didn't bother to look Florence's way, and neither did she.
"Have a nice night, Florence." Harry called to her. "Get home safely."
"Thank you, Harry." She replied as she grabbed a rag to clean the counter. "Goodnight!"
