☆

CLARA STROLLED DOWN BARR STREET, which was not the site of a vast amount of stalls set up for the weekly market. A mass of people crowded the street, leaving her to weave in and out of the people that hadn't already scattered at the sight of her razor-edged hat. Her brothers had departed to London the day before, leaving the den to be watched over by Pol and Esme, and leaving the girl a little bit more freedom to roam. The girl had one last free day to do as she pleased without her brothers' watching every move and so she fully intended to put it to good use.

The girl kept her head high, her gun holster around her left shoulder, hidden beneath the material of her jacket. She no longer feared the weapon, yet she was wary around it, often scared that if one slight bump would set it off. Clara had been taught to shoot by John after the Billy Kimber incident, the two had taken a trip out to the countryside a mere week after, and as expected John had been overjoyed to help her.

"You wanna hold that up and focus more on the target," he said, positioning the gun for her. "Then when you're set on your mark, you pull the trigger back."

Clara scrunched her eyebrows together, holding the revolver in front of her. She looked at the target which had been carved into a tree, its bark already marked with two other bullet holes—one from John showing her how to use the gun, and the next from Clara panicking and shooting completely off target.

The girl in a deep breath and lined up the gun, and as she exhaled, she pulled the trigger. The sound resonated around the two, Clara's heart was pounding as she tried to conceal her shaky hands. The bullet had landed in the outer ring of the target, leaving a rather large dent in the wood.

"Better," John sniffed, walking closer towards her. "Now, instead of shooting right away, line it up, take a few breaths and steady yourself. You'd want to learn before you start getting yourself into shootouts."

"As if you lot would let me near a shootout," she joked, yet John's face remained still.

"You were though weren't ya?" He raised a brow, "You were there during the Billy Kimber commotion." Clara sighed, looking down.

"To be fair, I wasn't allowed to be there, Ada dragged me with her." She feebly replied, "Thought she would shoot me herself if I didn't go!"

John chuckled, folding his arms. "Right, c'mon, remember what I said. Breathe, steady yourself, aim and fire." He instructed.

Clara nodded, raising the gun once more. She sucked in a breath before letting it go. She adjusted her grip on the metal, her fingers digging into it. She stared at the target ahead, her lips pursed as she focused. She let her chest rise and fall once more before pressing down the trigger. This time, she didn't flinch at the noise. Her eyes followed to where the bullet had landed and her eyes widened.

On the line between the outer and the inner ring, a bullet hole stood visible. The girl laughed in disbelief as John cheered. Her brother high-fived her, slamming his hand down on her shoulder, shaking her proudly.

"That's more like it!" He boomed, shaking her hard, so hard that the gun slipped from her grip and fell to the floor. A gunshot exploded through the air as John pulled Clara back, covering both their heads as the two cowered in the grass. They lay there in shock for a few moments, their eyes wide as they glanced at one another.

"How about we don't tell Tommy or Pol about this," John winced, his teeth gritted as Clara's horrified eyes looked to him expectedly. "...agreed?"

"Agreed." Clara answered hastily, spitting on her hand as John did the same before the two shook on it.

As the metal pressed into her back through the leather of the holster, Clara faintly smiled at the memory. She briefly shoved past a man, her head down. There was a sudden and loud laugh from a stall ahead causing the girl's ears to prick up. Her eyes flitted to the stall, scanning it carefully, noticing a woman wearing a tattered, black shawl with two other women giggling beside her.

"Business is booming," the woman spoke unafraid, almost as if she'd thought her voice would not carry over the noise of the busy market. Clara listened closely, keeping her distance as she observed.

"Usually it's the widows or the mothers, but I even have Shelby's at my door." The woman continued. Clara's eyebrows raised as she slipped closer to the stall, cautiously hiding amongst the crowd. "The older one...the woman...looking for her daughter she said. I did the whole 'searching for soul thing' and told her that she was dead."

Clara's heart dropped as the information was shared. She had half the mind to go over there and slice their eyes out like her brothers would probably do, yet she refrained, wanting to listen to more of the conversation.

"She left in a hurry after that, but paid generously." The woman laughed, wrapping her shawl around herself tighter. The two women beside her whispered excitedly at the rumour.

Clara had heard enough, she regained her posture, and held her head up high, emerging from the crowd she'd been hiding in. She walked past the stall, allowing the women to whisper at the sight of her before she slowly backtracked. The girl approached the stall, her hands flexing in anger. The women watched as she approached, the widening of their eyes not going unnoticed.

"Good afternoon," Clara gritted with a cold smile, slamming her hands down onto the stall table with a moderately loud bang.

"Uh....what can we get you, miss?" The woman with the black shaw asked. She looked remarkably paler than she had before.

"I'll take one of these." She stated, plucking an apple from the stall. She bit into the fruit, looking around before spitting it out dramatically.

"Ugh! It's rotted!" She exclaimed loudly, just loud enough for the surrounding crowd to look in disgust towards the fruit stall and move away. Seeing the intended reaction, Clara turned back to the three women frozen in shock, she leaned over the counter.

"You might want to be careful with what you say, words carry, and neither me or my family tolerate people who can't keep their mouth shut," Clara could see the woman who had spoken look taken aback at the girl's venomous tone. Straightening up, she glared at all three women. "Have a nice day ladies."

Clara tipped her hat mockingly, letting the blade tucked into the brim, glint in the light. She tossed the bitten apple over the stall and at the women before shoving her hands into her pockets and continuing her trek down the busy street. She took a large breath in, shaking her hands out as she cooled her rising temper.

When Clara finally arrived at her intended destination, she'd successfully retained her cool composure. She pushed open the door to the overwhelmed sweet shop, allowing for kids to bounce out before she entered. Clara glanced behind the counter at Penny who was measuring out a bag of sweets. None of her family was in sight, causing the Shelby girl to grin at her luck.

"Oi, Crawford!" She smirked, as Penny jolted around to see Clara. "Meet you at seven? Same place as usual?"

Penny did not yell back but nodded enthusiastically with a grin, turning back to her work and the awaiting customers. Clara watched as she spoke to the kids at the counter, how happy she looked. The Shelby girl found herself smiling before she backed out of the shop and back into the street.

☆

IT WAS FIVE O'CLOCK AND CLARA had waltzed through Small Heath all the way to Tommy's new offices. After what she'd experienced that morning, she felt it was the right thing to be doing. The legal side of the business worked out of the new building and no dirty business could even come as close as the threshold. She'd been to the offices twice before, each time it had looked bland and undecorated, the only room with substantial furniture being Tommy's office.

Clara pushed open the doors, climbing the stairs leading into the offices. The floor was empty, her footsteps being the only sound in the desolate space. The girl took off her hat out of habit, holding it in her hands as she made her way towards Tommy's office. The door was frosted glass reading 'Shelby Company Limited, Licensed on-track betting'. Her knuckles rapped against the wood of the door, echoing through the room. There was a gruff 'come in' from inside, causing the girl to huff as she shoved the door open. Stepping inside of the office, Clara firmly shut the door behind her.

"Clara?" Tommy sighed, looking up from his stack of paperwork.

"No need to sound so bloody excited," Clara scoffed her eyes tracing Tommy's pristine office.

The office was heavy with dark oak furniture. The desk was huge, far larger than it had to be. On the desk was a typewriter along with two telephones, accompanied by what Clara knew to be photos of Tommy's multiple business achievements. The windows let a faint amount of light in, sending the room into a hue of dusky yellow.

"I've got a meeting in ten minutes, Clara." He huffed, leaning back in his chair as the girl slumped down into the seat opposite him.

"Where will my desk be then?" She joked, a small smile creeping across her face as she linked her hands together.

"There is no 'your desk'."

"Well, that's rude."

Tommy took a deep inhale in, obviously not in the mood for the younger girls antics. "Clara, what do you want?" He asked.

"Hello, Tom! I'm great, how are you?"

"Clara..."

"Fine...I was down in the market on Barr Street this morning," the girl began, earning yet another huff of frustration from the man. "No, no, don't do that, I'm just setting the scene."

"Well set the bloody scene faster," he grumbled, lighting a cigarette.

"Right so, I was walking through the market, right? Heard some woman talking about the Shelby's and how one had visited her." Clara sniffed, waving her hand in the air. "So I heard that and got curious."

"You mean you got nosy?"

"Same thing....anyways, the woman was going on about how Pol had visited her." The girl explained, "I reckon the woman is a fraud, she told Pol her daughter was dead. Which means Pol went looking for answers, which means she's probably been thinking about them a lot recently— and by them, I mean her kids, of course."

Tommy was now listening intently, his eyebrows scrunched. "I, obviously, put a stop to the gossip and told everyone the fruit from the stall was rotten," she grinned proudly, "Then I had lunch and read a book and now I'm here telling you."

Tommy was silent, his eyes scanning the girl's face for any hint of a lie. "Are you sure you heard right?" He questioned.

"Who do you take me for?"

"You really do enjoy living up to that bloody nickname, don't you, eh?"

"Hey! You lot called me weasel, and I just feel that now it's my obligation to live up to it. It's the least I could do." The girl defended with a smirk.

Tommy rolled his eyes with a curt nod. "I think you should try find Pol's kids," Clara continued, "Pol's been miserable lately, you should try find 'em for her."

Tommy inhaled, raising his brows. "Okay," he stated.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, I'll talk to Pol." He shifted in his seated Clara's wide eyes looked at him in disbelief that he'd actually listened. "Now, get out of here, I'm busy." It was now the girl's time to roll her eyes.

"Fine, Tom" she pushed herself to her feet, "Have fun working, and next time I come 'round I expect a desk ready!"

And with that Clara Shelby waltzed out of her brother's office, a mischievous and triumphant grin plastered across her face.

☆

CLARA ROCKED ON HER HEELS, her hat pulled over her ears. She was standing outside of Charlie's Yard, checking her pocket watch every few minutes. Her breath could be seen in the air as she huffed, rubbing her hands together to stir up any heat. Down the street, a figure appeared, causing the girl to stand up straighter at the sight. The figure approached, glancing around cautiously.

"Hi," Penny smiled, her blonde hair in curls around her shoulder, her signature blue dress hidden under a heavy coat to protect herself from the nippy air.

"Hello," Clara greeted, her lip quirking up. "Ready to go?" Penny nodded and soon the two were strolling down the gravel roads of Small Heath. They walked side by side and every so often their fingers brushed against each other. Clara lit herself a cigarette, inhaling the smoke before exhaling the excess. Before she could take another drag, Penny had snatched it out of her mouth.

"Those are bad for you," The blonde said pointedly, before placing the cigarette between her lips and drawing in a puff of smoke. Clara chuckled, shaking her head as Penny smirked. The blonde always did it when the Shelby girl was smoking, yet Clara never seemed to get tired of it.

"I'm a bad influence," The Shelby girl sniffed.

"As if I don't already know that," Penny linked her pinky finger with Clara's. The brunette nodded as they continued, turning down another lane until they were outside the Marquis.

The Marquis paid the Peaky Blinders for protection, yet it was one of the pubs her brothers rarely visited. After the Garrison, her brothers' go to was The Chain. The Marquis was where the two girls would go, whenever they were out to avoid the prying eyes of Clara's brothers.

As they entered the pub, all eyes slowly drew towards the two young girls. Yet as soon as they caught the blade in Clara's hat, they averted their gaze returning to their conversations. She may have just been a girl but no one dared mess with her, they were too afraid of who may follow after the girl.

"Go grab a seat, I'll get drinks," Clara told the girl, weaving her way towards the bar. She leaned across the counter, in order for the man to hear her over the noise. "Whiskey—Irish, and a gin on the rocks."

The barman nodded and got to work. Clara turned her back on him, leaning against the counter as she scanned the busy bar. There were a few women scattered across the pub, yet all of them were accompanied by a male companion. Clara quietly scoffed before allowing her eyes to trail their way towards Penny. She looked lost amongst the crowd. Like a dream lost amongst memories or like a prayer lost amongst heathens. The two drinks were placed behind her, snapping Clara out of her thoughts as she tracked her way back to Penny, handing the blonde her drink before sitting opposite her.

"Drink up, Angel," Clara mused, as the blonde swirled her drink. "You can't stay here all night, you've got work tomorrow."

"And how would you know that?" Penny queried, raising a brow whilst sipping the alcohol.

"I've memorised your work schedule," Clara dismissed, "Figured it was the least I could do."

"Mhmm..." Penny's brows were raised in amusement but her cheeks were burning pink. Upon seeing this, Clara's lips pulled into a smile as she drank her whiskey. She leaned back in her chair, situating herself in the most unladylike position— one which would've had Aunt Pol reeling. Her legs brushed against Penny's, their limbs subtlety interlocking, hidden away beneath the shadows of the table. With another smile, Clara gulped down her drink, placing it on the table, as Penny shyly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Saw the shop was busy today," Clara began.

"It usually is on market day, the kids love to flock in with their parents." Penny tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. "My uncle's trying to get me to pick up more shifts."

"Penny, you're going to work yourself to death," Clara groaned, "Tell your uncle to piss off on my behalf."

It was no secret that Penny's family did not like Clara— or any Shelby's for that matter. They especially didn't like their golden girl hanging around with a spawn of the devil. Penny's family didn't care for Clara and Clara could one hundred percent say that the feeling was mutual.

"How's the Garrison situation working out?" Penny asked, tentatively sipping her drink. "It's far nicer there than here."

"They're reconstructing it for sure," Clara huffed, running a hand through her hair. "Don't know how long it'll take though, Arthur's already in withdrawals."

"I can imagine," Penny giggled, finishing off her drink. "I'm sure he'll find another pub."

"As long as it's not this one, I'm fine!"

☆

IT WAS TWO HOURS LATER AND CLARA HAD Penny's arm around her shoulders while the blonde laughed. Maybe Clara had let the girl have a bit too many. It was clear the blonde didn't have a strong tolerance, but the sight of a dishevelled, confident and almost free Penny was something that warmed the Shelby girl's heart.

"You're very pretty Clara," Penny giggled, as they approached Barr Street. "I like you a lot."

"I know, Pen," Clara chuckled, before cautiously glancing around. "I like you a lot too." The girl's blended into the thick shadows as they waltzed down an alley. Penny suddenly dug her heels into the gravel, forcing the Shelby girl to stop.

"What's wrong?" Clara questioned, turning to face the girl, but before she got an answer, Penny had swooped closer and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

And there it was. Clara melted into the kiss, her hands in Penny's perfect curls. She'd been craving this feeling all evening. The blonde's lips were addictive, like a personal drug that drew Clara in each and every single time. After a few seconds, they both pulled away, their foreheads pressed against each other. Their chests rose and fell in sync, their eyes closing as they simply basked in the silence and each other's presence.

"Pen, you've gotta go inside," Clara eventually whispered. "Go get some sleep, I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Mhm..." Penny nodded, her bottom lip sticking out. "One more for goodnight?" Clara laughed and pulled the girl closer, her lips touching Penny's ever so slightly before she pulled away.

"Now go, goodnight!" Clara exclaimed, pushing the girl towards the end of the alley as it began to rain. She watched as the blonde stumbled towards the sweetshop, disappearing inside.

Once the Shelby girl was sure that Penny was safe inside, she backtracked down the alley, her hands shoved into her pockets as she walked. She passed the burned Garrison, sighing at the sight of the rubble which had been roped off. Ahead of her, the silence was no longer silent, grunts and yells could be heard echoing through Garrison Lane. Looking around, Clara scanned for the source, before her ears pricked up once more.

Her blood ran cold. Her fingers reached into her jacket, her hand wrapping around the gun in her holster. The noise was coming from the garage at the end of the lane—The Shelby garage. The faint noise of orders being given, caused Clara to take a shaky breath as she tried to form a plan.

Whoever was in there wasn't alone.

The girl crept closer, her gun out of its holster as she held it steadily between both hands. The rainfall masked the sound of her footsteps, her heart beating through her chest.

"While you're there, do a bit of digging for gold," the voice rang. Clara didn't recognise the deep voice but she could hear someone struggling inside. "Pay for the petrol." She heard a round of choking and harsh laughter. "You see how much I know about you? I know what's in your fucking mouth."

Clara went to take a step forward before two hands latched around her neck. Her eyes widened significantly as she gasped. She was back by the canal. The hands, the cold, the fear. No...she wasn't back there...she would not allow herself to go back there.

The girl threw her head back, head butting the man holding her, she held out her gun, grunting as the man punched her across the face. Bitter tears stung her eyes as she spat. Clara raised her gun but just as her finger went to the trigger, it was knocked out of her hands. Another man had appeared, grabbing hold of her tightly, one of his hands covering her mouth, whilst the other man grabbed her legs with a sly smirk.

"Sabini, we found a spy," the man clutching her legs cackled, dragging her towards the garage. Clara struggled in the men's grips, tossing and kicking, using all her strength to rip free of their hold.

"Ah, well if it isn't your darling, little sister." Sabini sneered, glancing from the bloody figure to Clara. The girl screamed, kicking out once more. Her eyes drifted to the figure being held by three of Sabini's men. Through the blood and the dirt, Tommy's face shone through. Tears pricked Clara's eyes as she yelled in protest once more, her voice being muffled by the man's hand. "Wait until I'm finished with him then you may have your fun."

Clara felt like her lungs were going to explode as she screeched. She could feel the grip on her body growing tighter, a pressure around her neck causing her to grow lightheaded. Straight across from her, Tommy was barely conscious, his blue, hazy eyes landing on her before shifting. She shot out her arms trying to break free, allowing tears to fall down her face. Her brother looked dead, or at least on the brink of death.

"You take up with the Jews. You think London works like that. You just come down and pick a side." Sabini snapped, "You fucking clown. Now your life is over." Tommy choked, and from Clara's view, she could see his head being yanked up by Sabini. "My face is the last thing you will see on earth. Your mistake. Remember that when you get to hell. I was happy with peace. You broke the rules..."

Clara hollered, as another man pulled out a revolver, holding it to Tommy's head. She shrieked and squirmed, desperately trying to shake the men's grip. The walls were caving in and her vision was tunnelling, she could only see her brother. Despite the rapid noise of her pounding heart, the girl could hear the trigger being cocked. Clara was relentlessly shrieking now, the man had uncovered her mouth, wiping the snot and tears from the girl on her jacket in disgust. Her angry cries rang out as she sobbed. Her pleading words jumbled together in incoherent sentences.

She was showing emotion.

She was rolling over.

Clara felt a sharp pain spread its way across her face, and it was only when the blood came pooling down her skin did she realise that the man holding her had cut her. No matter how much she tried to push down the canal incident from two years ago, her mind flashed with images of the night, sending her reeling.

Suddenly, a loud explosion echoed through the garage causing all of Sabini's men to flinch. A loud whistle pierced through the air and Clara cried harder in relief. She was dropped to the floor, her knees clattering against the stone ground as Sabini and his men scattered. The girl watched Tommy hit the floor less than a meter away. She pulled herself slowly towards him. Her hands painfully dug into the floor as she moved.

He was dead...he had to be.

He wasn't moving at all.

He was still.

She looked down at his face before stifling a scream. What she had expected to be Tommy's face was in fact not. Instead, his face had been replaced by the face of the man she'd watched disappear into the canal. Clara swallowed her fear, her hand covering her mouth as she shook her head. This was Tommy. This was her brother. She whimpered as she shakily pressed two of her fingers to his neck, checking for a pulse. She heard approaching footsteps along with the menacing tap of a metal cane.

"I suppose we should see if the bastard is still alive."

Clara knew that voice, she knew the silhouette of the copper, yet she didn't look up, she was frantically checking her brother's pulse. She felt her body being flung back by a police officer as he checked to see if Tommy was dead.

Campbell towered over the two Shelby's, his stance wide and unforgiving as he stifled his coarse laughter. Clara raised her eyes slowly, the blood pooling down her cheek as she glared. She wanted to spit at the man's feet, curse him out and send him packing but she didn't. Instead, she remained silent, knowing that there was no there way her brother could survive. Campbell's metal cane dug into her shoulder, pushing her back against the ground, pinning her to the stone.

"Well hello, Miss Shelby, quite the situation, isn't it?"

☆

(This perfectly sums up miss Clara Shelby!)

HELLO YOU SEXY, BEAUTIFUL, FANTASTIC READERS!

SO.... How y'all feeling? This chapter was a bloody rollercoaster to write so I hope you liked it!

How are you feeling on this very bleak Friday? I, for one am, so sad this week is over, mainly because I had the entire week off and I'm back in Monday :'(

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I LOVE YOU ALL AND I'LL SEE YOU NEXT WEEK <3