CHAPTER SEVEN — billy kimber

' Fast women and slow horses. . . will ruin your life. '

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Thomas Shelby would be lying if he said that Charlotte Williams meant absolutely nothing to him. Deep down, he knows he'd do anything, literally anything, for her.

So, as seen as the door of the Shelby's room in the Garrison opens, Tommy immediately stares across the pub at her face while she pours a pint for another rude customer, he can't help but smile at the disgust written across her face.

Grace places a bucket down on the table in the middle of the Shelby boys, "Do you want whiskey as well?" She questions,  glancing down primarily at Tommy.

"No, just beer," He grumbles, blowing at a large cloud of smoke.

Arthur's eyebrows raise and his eyes set on the blonde woman pouring drinks and he tilts his head, "Oi, where's Charlie?"

Grace meets his gaze, "Charlie?"

"He means Charlotte," Tommy replies, mumbling while a cigarette hangs between his lips, "Why isn't she the one serving us?"

John hums in agreement, the same thought running through his head, "Usually she's sat in here playing poker with us. What have you done now, Tom?"

"I haven't done anything," He smirks, glancing around Grace's body at Charlotte once more, this time noticing her with her head in her hands while a drunk man rants at her face, "Oi, Charlotte Williams!"

The whole pub falls silent, the singing stops and every single head snaps in the blonde woman's direction. Rolling her eyes, she lifts her head and slips out of her chair and begins to make her way over to the back room, noticing every Shelby boy smiling up at her.

"What do you boys want?" She questions, leaning on the door frame with a bored expression, "I was just having a thrilling conversation with drunk Dave."

John snorts, "Yeah, sure you were."

Arthur nods his head to the space on the seat beside Tommy, "Sit down, Charlie. Play some poker with us."

"Incase you lot having noticed," She nods her head behind her at the extremely busy pub, "I'm working."

"Such a rare sight," Tommy teases, he pats the spot beside him, "Come on, sit."

With a low groan, Charlotte slips into the seat and grabs Thomas' beer off the table, downing the remaining liquid while Grace stares at the large group in shock. She knew they were all close, but it's a rarity to see any of the Shelby's to smile, especially because of a woman who gives them nothing but dirty looks.

Grace leaves without another word, letting the large bucket hang by her side while she closes the door behind her. Arthur watches her leave, before his eyes flick over to Tommy and mischievous smile works it's way onto his lips.

"Remember what Dad used to say, Tommy." He says, pointing a finger at him, "Fast women and slow horses..."

"...will ruin your life," The rest of the group chorus and Charlotte smiles, nudging her shoulder against Tommy while he shakes his head, smirking.

"Shut up, the lot of you," He chuckles, but a car light outside the window causes his expression to drop immediately.

John's eyes widen, "Coppers."

Thomas shakes his head, "No."

Realisation hits the group when the whole of the pub falls into silence and a few footsteps make their way into the pub. For a few moments, no one moves, no one says a thing. Nothing happens. Until a booming voice rattles the building.

"Is there any man here named Shelby?"

Silence, and then a gun shot sounds, causing Charlotte to snap out of her seat in an instant. Not out of shock, or terror, but out of anger. As much as Harry owns the Garrison, Charlotte also sees it as her pub.

"I said, is there any man here named Shelby!" Billy Kimber repeats, his voice even louder than previously.

With annoyance, Charlotte throws open the door, coming immediately face to face to the Billy Kimber but she remains emotionless. He doesn't scare her. She can feel Thomas' presence behind her, and he presses a gentle hand to the base of her back and she steps out of the room with the Shelby men following.

"Stop blowing fucking holes in my pub," She hisses while she makes her way past Billy, causing him to cock his eyebrows in surprise at her hostility.

Tommy's head turns to the man behind the bar, "Harry, get these men a drink," He orders before waving his hand in the air, "Everyone else, go home!"

In a rush, everyone sprints out of the dirty pub, muttering and mumbling between themselves while Harry and Grace both pour drinks for the four men who just caused the bustle. Billy Kimber and his men take one side of the largest table, while the Shelby boys sit in a line opposite. Charlotte leans on a pillar directly behind Tommy, next to his two men. Grace slides a tray between the two groups, revealing the whiskey glasses and Arthur begins to pour the liquid.

"You, go home," Thomas snaps at her.

She furrows her eyebrows, "But Mr Fenton said—"

"I said go home," He repeats.

She nods, slipping past the men and throwing her coat over her shoulders before stepping out of the pub. Billy's eyes wander over to Charlotte, and her jaw clenches.

"What 'bout her?" He asks roughly, jabbing a single finger in her direction.

"I have a name and you know it," She spits.

"Charlie is one of us," Arthur grumbles, "She always has been."

"Oh, I've heard," Billy smirks, "I've never approved of women in pubs, but when they look like her—"

"You said you wanted men called Shelby," Thomas is quick to cut him off while lighting his cigarette and passing one behind him to Charlotte, "You've got three of them."

"Right," He rests back in his chair, "I'd never heard of you, then I did hear of you, some little Didicoy razor gang. I thought to myself, so what? But then you fuck me over so now you have my undivided attention." He glances between the three men, "By the way, which one am I talking to? Who's the boss?"

"Well, I'm the oldest," Arthur says.

"Ha, clearly," Billy mumbles.

John's head tilts, "Are you laughing at my brother?"

Billy's mouth falls open and he takes a deep breath, "Right, he's the oldest," He points at Arthur then flicks his finger towards John," you're the thickest. I'm told the boss is called Tommy and I'm guessing that's you cause you're looking me up and down like I'm a fucking tart. You're clearly hurt cause I talked about your lady, I get it."

Charlotte rolls her jaw but Thomas' expression doesn't change an inch as he speaks, "I want to know what you want."

"There were suspicious betting patterns at Kempton Park," The man beside Billy begins to talk, "A horse called Monaghan Boy. He won by a length twice and then finished last with £3,000 bet on him."

Tommy's eyebrows raise, "Which one am I talking to? Which one of you is the boss?"

"I am Mr Kimber's advisor and accountant," The man tells him quickly.

Billy raises up out of his seat, clearly angered, "And I'm the fucking boss, okay? Right, end of parley, you fixed a race without my permission. You fucking Gypsy scum what live off the war pensions of these poor old Garrison Lane widows. That's your level! I am Billy Kimber, I run the races and you fixed one of them so I'm gonna have you shot against a post."

Charlotte's fists clench in her pockets when he begins to walk away, but he's soon brought to a stop when Thomas' stands up, calling his name. Billy Kimber's two bodyguards bring out their guns, clicking the safety off and aiming them at Tommy's chest.

Thomas throws Billy a bullet, "Look at it. That is my name on it. It's from the Lee family. You are also at war with the Lees, Mr Kimber, am I right? The Lees are attacking your bookies and taking your money. Your men can't control them. You need help."

Billy's advisor swallows thickly, "Perhaps we should listen to what Mr Shelby has to say. Before we make our decisions."

"Right, the Lees are doing a lot of talking at the fairs. They have a lot of kin. They're saying the racetracks are easy meat because the police are busy with strikes," He explains, "Now, we have connections. We know how they operate. You have muscle. Together we can beat them. Divided, maybe not."

"Mr Kimber, perhaps we should take some time for reflection," His advisor glances over his shoulder at his boss, "Possibly make arrangements for a second meeting."

Thomas repositions himself, crossing his arms across his chest, "I admire you, Mr Kimber. You started with noting and built a legitimate business. It would be an honour to work with you, Mr Kimber."

"Nobody works with me," Billy snaps, "People work for me." He slides a coin out of his pocket and flips it into the wooden floor, "Pick it up, pikey."

There's a long silence where Thomas and Billy just stare into each other's souls, John and Arthur watch from afar with clenched jaws and Charlotte fights back the anger rattling up in her body. Finally, Tommy begins to reach down but this movement causes John to snap out of his seat in his brothers direction. Thomas points at him firmly, stopping him from moving further.

"Sit," He directs, "Sit down."

Once his brother is finally in his seat, Thomas picks the coin up off the floor and inspects it for a moment.

"That's for your ceiling, lovely." Billy locks eyes with Charlotte and she tilts her head with her nostrils flared.

As Kimber leaves, his advisor stands in front of Tommy with his books tucked under his arm, "We will be at Cheltenham."

"As will I," Thomas replies.

Once Kimber and his team have left, Charlotte marches over to the door and slams in shut behind them, sliding the locks shut roughly. She makes her way back over, standing beside a smirking Thomas with her hands on her hips.

"So, you picked a fight with the Lees on purpose," Arthur sighs, "Tommy, we can't mess with Billy fucking Kimber."

"Get yourself a decent haircut, man," Thomas sips his drink, "We're going to the races."

❦

That night, Charlotte collapses onto her bed in her shared bedroom in the Shelby's house. Joshua is sleeping peacefully in the bed next to hers, the covers pulled up to his chin and drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.

She swings her legs around and places her feet on the floor before resting her head in her hands with a yawn. A knock on the frame of the door causes her to lift her head slowly, the man at the door causing her face to soften.

"Get some sleep, Char." He says quietly.

She begins to pull off her boots, not bothering to look in his direction, "Only if you do, Tommy. I know you're having nightmares. I see right through your act,"
She whispers through the dull light.

He jaw clenched slightly, but he remains slightly while he leans forward, grabbing a hold of the doorknob and pulling the door closed, sending her one last smile before disappearing completely.

With a huff, Charlotte allows herself to fall back and her head to crash against her pillow. She turns her head to the side, staring at Joshua's sleeping form. She's never seen him so peaceful, and she can't help but blame herself for that.

❦

Charlotte ignores Grace's staring eyes while she sits on the bar kicking her legs with a cigarette balanced between her lips. Sadly, the woman hadn't got a single second of sleep last night due to her over thinking mind. To be honest, she was still bottling up her anger towards Billy Kimber.

A certain pattern of knocking on the small bar window causes Charlotte to take a deep breath and wave her hand at Grace, allowing the other blonde to deal with Thomas Shelby's needs.

"Give me a bottle of whiskey and. . ." He begins, and Charlotte feels his eyes burning into the back of her head, "Three glasses please."

Grace hums, "Scotch or Irish?"

"Irish," He answers.

Carefully, Grace grabs the correct drinks and the glasses he requested before making her way over to the window, "I've decided not to go. To the races. Not unless you give me two pounds, ten shillings towards the dress."

Charlotte rolls her eyes, and Thomas does the same, "I've already given you three," He raises an eyebrow.

"How much did you pay for the suit you'll be wearing?" She questions.

"Oh, I don't pay for suits. My suits are on the house, or the house burns down." He states, shrugging.

She tilts her head, "So you want me to go looking like a flower girl?"

He grabs the neck of the whiskey bottle and the manages to pinch the three glasses together, "What I want makes no difference." He turns around, placing the drinks down on the table behind before he faces Grace once more, this time grabbing the window, "It's not me your dressing for," He smiles, closing the window.

Grace fold her arms, leaning back against the wall with a deep breath. Charlotte swings her legs over the bar, and sitting the other way round, her eyes burning into Grace's slumped figure.

"You can say he's a bastard," Charlotte says, putting her cigarette out, "He does it on purpose."

"Does what on purpose?" Her eyes rows furrow and she lifts her head to meet Charlie's eyes.

Charlotte laughs, "Leads you on."

Grace's jaw drops, "I wasn't— I didn't— I don't think—"

"You thought he asked you on a date to the... races?" Charlie tilts her head, cutting the rambling woman off, who slowly nods, "Getting asked to the bloody races by Thomas Shelby is far from being asked on a date."

Two hands clamp down on Charlotte's shoulders, causing her head to snap behind her and her eyes land on a smiling Joshua Williams. Her clenched jaw relaxes slightly once she notices it's not a perverting man grabbing her and she drops down from the bar.  Her eyebrows slowly furrow, "Joshua, what the hell are ya doing here? Your mates told me ya were off out with 'em today."

"I was out with them," He smirks, "But, guess what..."

In confusion, her eyes slowly narrow at her brother and she begins to walk around the bar, grabbing his arm and dragging him to an empty table away from Grace. She shoves him down into a chair before sliding into one opposite him.

"Please tell you have done owt bad," Charlotte stares at him, "Because I swear to god, Josh—"

Her brother holds his hands out in front of him, waving them around and shaking his head, "No, no, no. It's nothing bad, in fact, it's really good. You're gonna love it."

Charlotte sits back in her seat, "Go on then."

"You know how our old house was completely destroyed and now there's beggars living in it?"

"What?" She raises an eyebrow, "There's people living in our home."

Joshua sighs, "It's hardly ours anymore."

"Okay, okay." She waves her hand at him simply, "Carry on."

"Well, I got us a new house," He smiles brightly, tapping his index finger excitedly on the table, "It's bigger than the last, and it were free."

Charlotte gawks at Joshua in disbelief, her eyes wide and her mouth fallen open. She blinks slowly before slowly standing up out of her seat and raising her hands to her head. Without speaking a word, she begins to pace back and forth in the Garrison while her hands run up and down her face.

"You what?" She gasps, snapping her head to him but continuing to walk back and forth, "Fuckin' hell, Joshua. How did you get us a new house?"

She hears a door open, and singing men exit but she ignores them completely, coming to a stop in front of her quiet brother. She leans forward, resting on the table and glaring at him.

"How did you get us a new fuckin' house?" She repeats.

"I— I— urm, my mate offered it to me," He stumbles, "Look, don't get mad, oka—"

"Don't get mad?" She scoffs, pushing off the table, "You're the mad one here, not me. You took a house from one of your cheap mates? Did you not wonder on how he got the house?" She hisses quietly, "Fuckin' hell."

Across the room, back at the bar, Thomas Shelby lights his cigarette and places the empty bottle of whiskey down on the surface. Grace wipes the surface in front of him with a small smile, replicating his own expression.

"Where's Charlotte?" He questions.

Grace doesn't bother with a verbal reply, instead lifting a single finger and pointing over at the corner of the room where the two William siblings are arguing. Thomas follows her finger, his eyes landing on the pair and he watches them carefully.

"Why are you so angry anyway?" Joshua stands up quickly, causing his chair to scratch against the wooden floorboards, "You should be happy that we have somewhere to live that isn't the Shelby's shithole!"

Charlotte throws her arms into the air, "You can't go taking houses from your mates for free! There's some bad people in Birmingham, Joshua. They use boys your age to do bad things. I thought you were smart!"

"Yeah, Thomas Shelby is one of those bad people!" He shouts.

A hand is placed against Charlotte's lower back, and she doesn't need to turn to know that Thomas Shelby is now stood by her side.

"Nice of ya to mention me, Joshua," He smiles, "But you and I both know I'm one of the good bad people. And I wouldn't ever dream of doing anything to you or your sister. You're under the Peaky Blinder's protection."

"We're only under your protection because you have a thing for my sister! You don't care about me, and how do I know that you're not just using Charlotte?" Joshua snaps.

Rolling her jaw, Charlie moves around to step in front of Thomas, one hand pushing against his chest so he takes a step back and she glares at him in annoyance.

"You just had to butt in, didn't ya?" She hisses, "Stay out of this, please."

He stares into her eyes for a few moments before letting his gaze flick over the rest of her face. With a sigh, he moves back again, sending her a single nod before turning around and heading out of the door.

Charlotte watches as he leaves, a small smile on her lips but she makes sure that it has vanished before she faces her brother again.

"Right, come on, let's go home and talk about this there," Charlie motions towards the door, "Before you get me sacked."

"It ain't my home. It may be yours, but it will never be mine," He slams his shoulder against hers as he passes.

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