☆

CLARA STIRRED AS A SUDDEN DROP FELL ONTO her cheek. She shifted in her sleep, pushing herself further into the soft fabric. Her head raging up a war, each nerve feeling as if they'd been shot. There were no more drops felt as she snuggled back into her warmth, her brain urging itself to pull it together. Just as she let out a content sigh, a glass of water was thrown over her face. The girl jolted up, gasping for air, her chest heaving as she coughed through the water. She looked to her right, watching Tommy look down at her, his unimpressed eyes staring her down.

Clara opened her mouth to speak but promptly pressed her hand to her mouth, retching as she tried to keep her vomit at bay. Her vision swirled round and round as if trapped in a whirlpool. It felt as if someone was compressing her brain from either side, its grip growing tighter and tighter by the second.

"Alright," Tommy sighed in frustration, helping the girl sit up properly. "Up you get, c'mon."

"Mhm..." The girl winced covering her ears as he spoke. The man chuckled, shaking his head as he held onto her arm.

"Time to reap what you sow, c'mon, you've got a job to do. C'mon, up!"

Clara groaned tiredly leaning into her brother's stable figure as another wave of nausea swept over her. Her entire body felt sluggish as if she was trekking through a dense bogland in the pissing rain. John was making his way down the stairs as Clara and Tommy passed, his eyes glinting with amusement at the state of the young girl.

"Alright, Clara?" He smirked, his head tilted.

Clara tiredly raised her eyes along with her middle finger, in fear that if she spoke she may unleash her guts everywhere. She heard the faint noise of Tommy and John speaking for a few fleeting moments before Clara was promptly ushered out the door by her brother. The girl squinted at the light shining through Small Heath's clouds, its rays burning her eyes and adding to the incessant pain in her head. Tommy's grip on her shoulder stayed firm as he led her back to number six, practically pushing her into the house.

"Go on, you have twenty minutes." He nodded, lighting a cigarette, earning a discontent moan from the girl. Her feet slowly stomped up the stairs, her body unusually heavy as she entered her room. The walls seemed taller than usual and every time her eyes flitted around, she was met with incomprehensible dizziness.

Her body yearned to curl up in her bed and sleep the morning away, but the prospect of this 'job' seemed much more excitable. She yawned loudly as she opened her wardrobe, tossing an old shirt and pants down onto her bed, along with her red, trustworthy cardigan. Clara stripped herself of her suit, placing it carefully onto the chair. She'd have to try to scrub the garments in order to rid them of the alcohol smell that lingered on the fabric.

With a sigh, Clara dragged herself towards a washbowl she'd left on her dresser, attempting to wipe the sweat and the alcohol scent from her body. She gagged, clutching onto the dresser as bile crept up her throat. Clara squeezed her eyes shut,  her heartbeat pounding behind her eyes. Maybe it hadn't been the wisest to have drunk her body weight in gin, but it had felt too amazing to stop at the time. The girl stumbled towards her bed, grabbing her fresh clothes and shrugging them on with ease. She tied back her tangled hair, grabbed her grey hat, and shoved it down on her head.

"Clara!" Tommy's voice bounced around the house, causing the girl to wince. Clara reopened her door, sluggishly dragging herself downstairs to where her older brother was waiting at the door with Finn standing solemnly beside him.

"Took you long enough," her younger brother grumbled, as they left the home. Clara lightly kicked the back of his knee, sending him stumbling out the door. She chose to say nothing, merely following Tommy as he paid no mind to them. She didn't slow as Finn recovered and joined her side, it was only then that she decided to speak up.

"Why are we going here anyway?"

☆

CLARA SAT IN FRONT OF A BOOK, twirling a pen between her fingers while men gathered at the tables around the Garrison. Beside her, Finn stood watching over the crowd as Tommy, Arthur and John sat comfortably in the snug. As another man exited the snug, walking towards the two youngest Shelby's, Finn cleared his throat.

"Next," Finn called, his tone monotonous out of pure boredom, one of Clara's cigarettes in his hand. The girl watched as a boy tentatively stood and entered the snug as the man from before stopped in front of the unamused girl.

"Name?" Clara asked, raising a brow at the man.

"Johnathan Steele." He sniffed, his hands holding his hat in front of him.

"Right," the girl held back an eye roll, writing down the man's name in clear writing. "And address?"

"32 Coventry road."

"Right," Clara huffed, scribbling down the address as she repeated the exact same words she'd told everyone else. "We'll send someone 'round if we need ya."

The man nodded and left, leaving the girl to lean back in her seat. Clara took out another cigarette, beckoning Finn to give her the lighter she'd loaned him earlier. The boy handed it over, and the girl was quick to light her cigarette. Her head was still thumping, and she felt as if her brain was going to instantaneously explode through her eyes.

The snug door opened and out walked the nervous man from before, he clumsily stood in front of the unimpressed girl. "I was, uh, told to tell you my address." He stammered.

Clara sighed, "What is it then?" She questioned, balancing her cigarette between her lips as she picked up her pen. The man mumbled his address. "Well, you'll have to speak a bit louder than that."

"49 Adderley Lane, Digbeth." His voice was shaking. Clara looked the man up and down...perhaps 'man' was a stretch. He was a boy at most, not much older than her. On his belt, a leather gun holster, a non-metal handle sticking out. The girl let out a small chuckle, writing down his address.

"And your name?"

"Harold...Hancox."

"Right, we'll send someone 'round if we need you." She briefly spoke, turning the page as she dismissed him. The boy lingered for a few moments just looking down at her. "Well?" The boy cleared his throat and nodded in embarrassment, swiftly leaving the Garrison. Clara rubbed her temples to try to ease the pain.

"Put a mark next to his name," Finn instructed, his eyes flitting from Tommy who was speaking to him from the doorway of the snug. Clara rolled her eyes and made a quick star beside the boy's details. It was going to be a long morning she'd concluded. The room was still crowded with men, leaving Clara to be the only girl in sight.

It was a tragic sight really.

Clara spent another hour scribbling down names and addresses as Finn oversaw the men. The girl wasn't even paying attention to the men going in and out anymore, she was too exhausted and it was slowly taking its toll. A shadow crossed in front of her, yet the girl didn't look up.

"Name?"

"Uh...William Clarke."

Clara's head snapped up, coming eye to eye with her best friend, the only person left in the once busy Garrison. "No, absolutely not." She shook her head, glaring at him.

"Your brothers told me to tell you my name and address." He shrugged his hands in his pockets.

"And I'm telling you to fuck off! You're not working for my brothers." Clara hissed.

Will looked around before leaning closely, "Look, I need this." His voice was strained, as his finger pointed to the book. "Just write down my name and address."

"Get. Out."

"No! Write down my bloody name!"

"Is there a problem?" Tommy came out of the snug, watching the two friends glare at one another.

"No, Will was just leaving." Clara gritted.

"Well, are his name and address down?" Tommy rounded the table she was sitting out, grabbing the pen out of her hand before she could process what was happening. He took the book as Clara scrambled to grab it. "Right, what is it?"

Will recited his address confidently while Tommy wrote it down, the pen scrawling across the page, his handwriting horrific in comparison to the girl's. Clara was seething. She was seeing red. Her jaw clenched tightly as her eyes shot daggers at her older brother. Her nails were digging into her palms, leaving moon-shaped crescents embedded in the skin.

The girl refused to look at her friend as she abruptly stood to her feet and grabbed her coat from the back of her seat. Clara didn't spare a glance behind her as she left the pub, her fingers inching towards her cigarettes in her pocket. Behind her, the factory noise echoed, concealing any other noise. Clara pulled her hat further down on her head as she strode through the men dragging coal back and forth from factory to factory.

Clara was furious. Her body shook, doing its best to contain the angry tremors. How many times had she made Will promise to never be a blinder? How many times had he promised knowing he was speaking false words? Her fists were still clenched. She allowed the searing pain to keep her anger on track as she stormed down the lane.

"Watch out!"

The girl barely had any time to react as John barrelled into her, throwing her over his shoulder with a grin, almost mimicking his actions from the night before.

"The Digbeth Kid is gonna shoot us all to hell!" He called out.

"John! Put me down!" Clara demanded as she let out a spluttered cough. Behind them, Arthur came bounding after the two, his gun being comically waved in the air.

"No, can do! We'll both die that way!" John smirked, shaking the girl on his shoulder. Clara mentally cursed her brother's talent for lifting the mood. The man carrying her jumped with a skip as he retrieved his gun from his holster, the safety still on. "Shoot 'im!"

Clara grabbed the gun, "Bang!" She finally chuckled, aiming for Arthur as he continued to chase them. The man faltered, pretending to duck away from the 'bullet'.

"Run for the hills! It's the Digbeth Kid!" Arthur called out as John picked up the speed, flinging open the door to number six.

"Get out of town, kid, or I will shoot your fucking head off!" John snickered, taking his gun from Clara and aiming it at Arthur himself.

Clara let out a loud laugh, but it soon faltered at the sight of Polly standing nervously by the fire, a young man beside her. John turned around, stopping in his tracks as his gaze also fell on the two other people. He patted Clara on the back, allowing for her to slip down from his shoulder, and onto the floor. The girl winced slightly, smoothing out her rumpled clothing, offering her aunt a weak smile.

"Time's up!" Arthur boomed, still not aware of Polly and the other boy's presence. "You're both dead, go down...John!" It was then that Arthur finally looked behind at an anxious Polly. Clara could see Tommy enter the house behind Arthur, his hands casually stuffed in his pockets. Arthur joined John and Clara's side with a faint snicker, glancing between Polly and the unknown boy. "All right then, Polly. Who's this?"

"Gentlemen," Tommy eventually spoke up, Clara rolled her eyes, the reaction not going unnoticed by her older brother. "—and Clara...this is your cousin. Polly's son, Michael."

The young girl's eyes widened, glancing between Polly and Michael. The boy stepped forward, politely shaking Arthur's hand.

"Pleased to meet you." He nodded, Clara noticed the slight tremor in his voice, even if it was not so outwardly visible. Michael reached out and shook John's hand.

"John." Her brother greeted, as Michael moved to shake Clara's hand. The girl raised and brow and gladly accepted the handshake with a signature smirk.

"I'm Arthur." Her eldest brother sniffed, "You've already met me. I used to throw you out of the window, so John could catch you."

"I used to put you in a shoebox and kick you down Watery Lane." John smiled ever so slightly, "We also used to shove ya down the stairs in boxes with this one." He reached out and grabbed Clara in a headlock earning a loud complaint from the girl.

"I bet you're glad to be back," Tommy remarked.

"I don't remember any of it." Michael laughed, "All I remember is the day they took me away." Polly surged forward and enveloped her son in a hug.

"Well, you're here now, son." Tommy nodded, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Welcome to the Shelby family."

"Later on, we'll show you the ropes." Arthur piped up.

"Hmm. Yeah, we'll show you what's what." John added, finally releasing Clara from his grasp.

"Let's leave him be for now, eh?" Tommy suggested, seeing the panicked look of warning Pol was shooting him. "Come on, boys, Clara."

"As if," She scoffed bitterly, folding her arms as Tommy sent her a pointed look.

"I...uh," Michael spoke up as the girl glared daggers towards her brother's retreating figure.

"Oh!" She snapped her attention back to her cousin with a wolfish smile. "Hi, as they said, I'm Clara—the best, the brightest..."

"Clara!" Tommy's voice called after her as she continued to linger.

"Yeah, that's me," The girl rolled her eyes, turning to her cousin with a sheepish smile. "Nice meeting ya, Michael." She nodded towards Pol with a smile, walking towards where her brothers had disappeared off to.

Clara's hands were stuffed into her pocket, hiding her curled fists under the material. Her feet carried her into the closed betting den, the heels of her boot clattering loudly against the wood. She walked towards her older brothers, stopping in front of them, her jaw clenched tight.

"What?" She asked bluntly, barely watching as Arthur poured out three glasses of whiskey. Clara shifted on her feet, looking between her brothers expectedly. "Eh?"

"How's the head?" John smirked, attempting to ease the tension as he gulped down his drink.

"Like you'd care," the girl scoffed, turning towards Tommy. "Now, whatcha want?...I have plans today y'know, just like you and John have, Tommy."

Tommy's eyes narrowed, "And how do you know that?" He questioned daringly, raising a brow. Clara wanted to laugh. She was rather good at finding out things, especially when John left his office unlocked and his diary open on his desk after the betting shop had closed.

"I know a lot of things, you should know that by now." Clara leaned back against a table. "Another thing you should know is that if you give Will that bloody job, I will personally see to each of your deaths." Arthur and John erupted into hearty laughter as even Tommy stifled his own grin.

"God, it's like she's a child again!" Arthur huffed between snickers. "Remember when she threatened to blind us for the first time? Went 'round screaming and roarin' her head off that she'd blind us, didn't even know what bloody 'blind us' meant."

"You think this is funny?" Clara asked dryly.

"Pol gave us a right beating for her catching onto the words." John nodded with a snort, taking another swig of whiskey as they ignored their sister. "Said we were corrupting her, ah but now look at her, a real bloody gem isn't she?" His sarcastic tone sent Arthur into another fit of chuckles whilst the girl merely stood unamused.

"Listen to me!" She finally snapped, her fist banging onto the table in frustration. Blood dripped from the inside of her palm, where her fingernails had dug in. "I refuse to let Will be dragged into this business. He's a boy, he's my age. You won't allow me into the company, but you'll allow a boy I've known since I was four? Not only is it unfair, but I refuse to stand by and watch him get killed because of your carelessness."

Clara picked up her fist from the table, her eyes flitting down her bloody palm. With an exasperated sigh, she folded her arms as her brothers remained quiet.

"I won't have it." She sniffed angrily, "He has a job already. If you go through with this, and hire him, I swear to God, I won't be responsible for how I act or what I do."

"Clara, sit and stop acting like a child," Tommy ordered, his face hardened. The girl shook her head adamantly. "Are you jealous? Is that what this is actually about?"

"Are you even listening to me?" Clara asked in disbelief, "I'm not jealous—I'm bloody furious. I won't let you take away the only friend who I know better than I know myself and I won't let him be killed!"

"And he won't," Tommy assured, lighting a cigarette. "We're hiring him. End of discussion. He's one of the only other boys who came today without a record of previous offences. We can use that. We'll have him locked up for a week with the other boy." Tommy was now addressing John and Arthur also, with the smallest of smirks. "As I said to the Digbeth kid, something must be done about illegal gambling."

"Rightfully so," Arthur whistled in amusement.

"Awful stuff," John joined in, yet Clara did not share their mirth.

The girl glared at her older brother, she didn't say a word her teeth gritting. Clara folded her arms and turned on her heel, walking towards the exit of the shop.

"Oi! Where ya going?" John called out as the three brothers remained snickering. They did not receive a verbal response. Instead, they were met with a middle finger and the betting shop door being slammed closed angrily.

☆

"YOU'RE AN IDIOT I SWEAR!" Clara spat angrily, looking at her friend as they walked side by side. It had been a week since the boy had put his name down to work for the blinders and a week of the girl refusing to speak to him. "You shouldn't get wrapped up in blinder business!"

"Clara! I have to!" Will finally snapped, dragging her off the main road and away from prying eyes and ears. "Bloody listen will you?!"

"No! You're getting yourself into something you don't understand-" the girl was cut off as the boy's hand clamped over her mouth to stop her from speaking.

"I lost my job." He sighed, his hand still over her mouth. "I need the money. My mum needs the money. Molly and Billy need this money." Clara was silent—not by choice of course, but silent nevertheless. "I know you don't like it, but suck it up. I need this, Clara. You have everything you want at your fingertips, I don't have that sorta privilege—Ugh! Did you just lick me?!"

Will's hand dropped from the girl's mouth, wiping it on his pants in disgust. "What the fuck?!" He asked in disbelief.

"You wouldn't let go." Clara shrugged, folding her arms. "Look, Will, I understand–"

"No, you don't, or we wouldn't be having this bloody conversation." Will huffed leaning against the wall opposite Clara. "I need this payment. My family's counting on me."

"You could've told me..."

"Tell you what, eh? That I dropped out of school for money, that I lost the only bloody job that would take me on?!"

"Will, you're my best friend, I don't care that you lost your job, there are hundreds of things out there that I could help get you into, but working for my idiot brothers-"

"—is my only option right now." Will cut her off once more. "Look you don't have to like it, but I'm going to the station today, I have the betting slips and a lot of other incriminating things in my pocket. It's only a week inside, and it's good money."

"It's dirty money, Will."

"So be it,"

Clara squeezed her eyes shut. It was clear there was no talking the boy out of his decision. Maybe she understood, but part of her hated the fact that she did. Will was her best friend, she didn't want him to be involved in the illegal business, as hypocritical as it may sound.

Clara cautiously looked around. "I swear to god if you tell anyone about this," she threatened before throwing her arms around his neck, burying her head in his shoulder. The boy stumbled back from the force but steadily reciprocated the embrace.

"Stay safe, Clarke." She muttered.

"C'mon Shelby, I always stay safe." Will laughed.

"I mean it, idiot."

"I know...I'll see you once I'm out."

"I'll be bloody waiting." Clara pulled away from the hug, her teeth gnawing into her lip. Her stomach was swirling with uncertainty. "I'll be there when you get out, drinks in the Garrison, yeah?"

"Sounds like a plan." Will smirked, "You're paying though."

"Why? Too cheap to spend your shiny, new Shelby paycheck?"

"Yeah, something like that."

Clara merely offered a sheepish smile in reply, as the boy retreated, his shaking hands clenched tightly in his pockets.

☆

HAHAHAHAHA WELL THIS IS A FUN WAY TO END A CHAPTER!

ANYWAYS HELLO MY BEAUTIFUL READERS!

How is your Friday going? I've been sick all week and I'm finally beginning to feel a bit better which is great!

Also, I've written a Christmas one-shot based on this story so how would we feel if I posted it on Tumblr?

I LOVE YOU ALL AND I'm just gonna leave this here: