𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙼𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿 - 𝚃. 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝙻𝙱𝚈

1

The young woman steps into Small Heath and takes in her surroundings. She had heard peculiar things about this place. How it was lawless, dark and was ruled by a razor blade gang who had no mercy and took no prisoners. Many people would run away at such information but for a writer, a mystery such as this was one that needed to be written about.

Juliet Marie Barrie was known only by her male alias to the general public, James Matthew Barrie. She used the same initials as her own so she still felt like someone would piece it together and in the future when women had more power, her work would be recognised. She had written a book about a boy who never grew up and his role as an antagonist or protagonist was completely ambiguous. The profits from the book had set her extremely comfortably for the rest of her life and yet she still wanted to write more. It wasn't a career choice to write her books, it was her passion ever since she was a child.

As Juliet takes in her surroundings she already begins creating a mental note of things to write in her draft books.

Low clouds do not blanket the sky of Small Heath, for that implies cosiness and comfort. No these clouds mask the sky, weigh the sky, choke the sky, They are strengthened by smoke from below from the roaring factories and a hundred chimneys that decorate the landscape like unhealthy angular flowers. The town held secrets and mystery which had an almost acrid smell in the air.

The slate and clay rooftops seem to extend forever in an industrial version of the fairytale hills Juliet enjoyed writing about. Everything is in varying shades of grey, including the river that flows through. The water murky and rumoured to hide bodies and secrets that Juliet wanted to unearth.

On the cobbled streets of Small Heath below the rooftops, the almost rain and morning mist combine to create an almost stinging atmosphere that had men pulling their coats closer to their bodies and mother's shouting at their children to come indoors before they 'catch their death'. Juliet was quite content in this weather, her umbrella keeping her protected from the bitter weather.

The young woman earned herself plentiful glances as the residents passed her. She was wearing an extremely fashionable blue dress with a cream trench coat. Her hair was curled to perfection and her eyes were a deep brown that swum with curiosity and contained a small spark that was only found within the eyes of writers and imaginatives.

Nothing in this town was alterable by the strongest imagination but these people had never had a person with an imagination like Juliet Marie Barrie's. The people of Small Heath could not find a foothold for pirates or fairies or boys who could never grow up and yet Juliet had been in the town for not even a day and could find so much potential for stories.

Juliet pushes open the door of her new house which she had spent the past week having furniture and her belongings shipped to. She had purchased a house on Watery Lane, a street that linked straight to the heart of the town.

"So you're the new neighbour," A deep voice says and Juliet turns to see a man with a cleanly shaven moustache and a peaked cap which glinted in the light as he moved.

"Juliet Barrie," The young woman holds out her hand and she smiles softly.

Juliet was the kind of woman who knew how to use her doe eyes to get men to do anything she wanted and with one look at the man, she knew he was under her spell.

"Arthur Shelby," The man says, his rough exterior softens as the woman smiles at him making him weak in the knees.

"Say, Arthur," Juliet says. "Do you know anywhere that is offering employment?"

"The Garrison," Arthur says. "Tell Harry, the owner, that Arthur Shelby sent you"

"Thank you," Juliet smiles and he tips his hat at her.

"I'll see you around Miss Barrie," Arthur says.

"It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance Arthur,"

"I'll get someone to escort you to the Garrison," Arthur says as he walks backwards from the door. "A beautiful lady such as yourself shouldn't walk the streets alone"

Juliet nods her head, giving Arthur another of her knee-weakening smiles before softly closing the door. She surveys her house which she had hired decorators and architects to fix to make it the perfect creative space. But her favourite room that had been designed and decorated was her small study. It had been painted green and had artwork inspired by her writing on the walls. There were the Darling siblings and Peter soaring over the skyline of London and a flying pirate ship further up the wall but her favourite part was the fairies painted across the wall.

Juliet smiles as she looks at the typewriter on her desk and the manuscripts that were slotted onto the bookshelf. Drafts and rambles from when she had a burst of inspiration in the early hours of the morning. Lay upon her desk was the first printing of Peter Pan which she had thoroughly annotated, even after its success Juliet could still pick out flaws in her writing. On the unpainted wall, hung the positive reviews of her book and under a paperweight on the shelf were letters written to her by people enjoying her book and letting her know their thoughts on the book.

Juliet had no idea what Small Heath would bring and the very idea sent tingles down her spine.