𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐘 peaky blinders

xxiii. HE WON MEDALS

ACT: THREE
CHAPTER xxiii: ' he won medals! '

Grace was just tying her coat and readying herself to leave when she caught sight of Polly Gray silently prowling across the Garrison floorboards towards her. The older woman had her eyes narrowed on the barmaid, critically, deep in thought like she knew something Grace didn't. "Going for good?"

"I heard there was trouble," came the blonde's response. It was true. Any second now King Billy Kimber's men would unload themselves and their bullets onto Small Heath's streets, no intentions of leaving until they'd seen Blinder blood running down the sewers.

Polly paid no attention to Grace's words. Trouble was only coming their way because Grace had been the one to open her big mouth when Tommy trusted her to keep it shut. "Instinct is a funny thing. See, normally I can tell about a person. But with you—"

"Look, the fighting is about to begin." Grace interrupted as she grabbed her bag from the bar and turned towards the older woman in hast. "We should get out of here."

"We know who you are." Again, Polly ignored her and instead brought up a hand to remove the cleverly hid needle from her hair. "Tommy knows as well. Turns out that copper as good as told him this morning. But I wanted to hear it from your own lips."

Grace's thumb clicked the buckle on her bag by her side open discreetly and swiftly pulled out the pistol she kept inside for a precaution; same gun she'd reached for when Billy Kimber tried to rape her before Tommy came to his moral senses and rescued her; same gun she'd used to kill the IRA drunk on his way home from the Black Swann after she'd been caught spying on him. "I am an agent of the Crown. I have the power to arrest and the right to use force. So please step out of my way."

"See that might mean something to Pol, love." A third voice joined the conversation. Soft and mocking and angry all at once. Grace knew Eli's voice well despite only having spoke to the woman once or twice. She guessed by the sound of the safety button being un-clicked that the dressmaker was aiming her own gun at Grace's head. "But to an Irishwoman who's home country has been exploited for years by that same royal crown you, huns love to worship so much, it means fuck all."

Polly smirked at the defeated look that washed over Grace's face. "Like I said instinct's a funny thing. You fell for Tommy for real, didn't you?"

"This gun is loaded." Grace stressed the words but her voice wavered, they all knew the gun was loaded and they all knew she wasn't about to pull the trigger.

"I'm not afraid of you." Polly looked at her indifferently, furrowing her eyebrows slightly. "I feel sorry for you. Slip of a thing. You thought you'd come in here and stitch us all up. We've had some coppers narks in here before, but you? You're the Queen of them all. So who are you? Little rich girl, I'd guess."