Arabella || Peaky Blinders [Michael Gray]

three

Chapter Three
"Just wait and see."

Arabella breathed out a heavy sigh of frustration the moment the door to the Garrison opened and her brother sauntered inside.

Mason Newell had attempted to remain undetected in the pub for as long as physically possible, but, in the most unfortunate of coincidences, his eyes had accidentally met his sister's the moment he stepped foot into the building.

"Shit," he muttered, catching the attention of John Shelby, who followed his friend's eye-line to see Arabella stood at the bar with her hands on her hips.

"Shit," John repeated, swallowing thickly as the exasperated girl made a beeline towards them.

"What are you doing?" Arabella hissed, glancing between the two of them in disappointment, though her question was mostly aimed at her brother.

"Arabella, you're looking very lovely tonight," John attempted, earning a narrowed glare in response to his awful attempt to charm his way out of a scolding.

"You're supposed to be resting," Arabella said, ignoring John to focus her attention on her brother. "You told me you wouldn't come out tonight."

"I got bored," Mason replied, shrugging nonchalantly. "John suggested–"

"John said this, John did that," Arabella mocked. "If John jumped off a bloody bridge would you do too?"

Her brother stared at her blankly, whilst John frowned. "Why the fuck would I be jumping off a bridge?"

"That wasn't the point," she breathed out exasperatedly, gaze filling with sincerity as she looked at her brother. "You were badly hurt, Mase," she reminded. "You need to let yourself rest tonight."

"It's just one drink, Bells," he told her. In all fairness, he knew that was a lie, and he also knew that his sister was just looking out for him, but he was fed up of her constant fussing. Of course, Mason knew that she worried about him, and about losing him, but he had his own life to live.

Arabella sighed defeatedly, knowing that there really was no use reasoning with her brother when he had an idea in his head. Their individual stubbornness was the cause for many of the sibling's clashes.

"Right, well, we'll be off then," John said after a moment of silence, pointing towards the door of the private room reserved for the Blinders. "Two whiskey's please," he grinned impishly as he moved past her.

"You've got a bloody cheek, John Shelby."

"What?" He shrugged as if he'd done nothing wrong, though his boyish grin suggested otherwise. "You are the barmaid, Bells."

Mason began to move past his sister, pausing for a moment to place his hand on her shoulder. "I'll be all right, it's just a couple of drinks."

"Yeah, go and have fun," she said flatly. She still thought her brother should be resting, but he wasn't going to listen to her, so there was no point trying to argue with him.

Arabella headed back to the bar to prepare the boy's drinks, adding an extra bottle of whiskey to the tray so they wouldn't keep coming out and bothering her for more. Arthur had already been in there with Finn for at least an hour, and she knew that the bottle she'd already given them would likely be empty by now.

Arabella knocked on the door a few times before nudging it open with her shoulder, instantly being met by the overwhelmingly strong smell of booze and tobacco.

"Thanks, love," Arthur nodded as Arabella set the tray down on the table, placing Mason and John's glasses of whiskey in front of them. She also set a glass of water down in front of Finn, who gave her an unimpressed look. "I'm not cleaning your sick up again, kid," she stated simply, ruffling his hair for good measure. "Anything else I can get you all?"