II. 1919

"What about 'seven letter word, causing or feeling uneasy embarrassment or inconvenience'?" Vivian asked Harry, as he swept the floor. She was sat in a booth with her feet up on the table, doing a crossword. She was never a fan of crosswords but she was often found challenging herself with one. But never, ever, has she completed one without a little bit of help.

"Vivian, You've asked me 'bout twenty. Do it yourself or not at all." He sighed as he swept up after last night's mess. It was early in the morning and the Garrison was yet to open. Earlier, he had found Vivian asleep in the booth and he made the terrible mistake of giving her the newspaper.

She scoffed at him, "I've only asked you eighteen." She looked back down trying to figure out twenty-one across. She tapped the pencil against her temple, as the Garrison door squeaked open and a pretty woman in a green dress appeared. Probably a whore. She took note of her posture and behaviour. It was very professional, so maybe not a whore.

Vivian always remembered the many things Polly would tell her, "you can tell a lot from someone's behaviour, playing with their hands, lack of eye contact, any little signs" and this woman looked confident — but a little uncertain —, even though she did not fit in.

"I'm here about the job of the barmaid." She spoke confidently, walking toward Harry, who was only just aware of her presence. She wasn't the kind of woman you'd see looking for a job in a place like the Garrison, thats for sure.

"Are you mad?" Harry said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth, exhaling the smoke. Vivian eyed the lady, confused and insulted she looked, "Am I what?" She asked.

"Do you know about this place?" Harry spoke, gesturing to the pub around him, but knowing the the context, he was gesturing to Small Heath. She was new to town and it was obvious but she held her ground.

"I saw it in an advertisement."

"Job's been filled." He said, the job wasn't filled. He got back to sweeping god knows what, hoping she'd go away.

"But it was in yesterday's paper" why would you want to work place like this? Out of all the pubs, as well as jobs, in Small Heath, there were definitely safer options for women.

"Believe me, love, I'm doing you a favour." Harry tried to convince the woman. Harry was struggling with the men some nights, and he needed help, it was as clear as day. Vivian had offer to help during war but when the boys came back, they didn't like her around the busy pub. They didn't want her to be a liability.

"I'm not asking for favours, I'm asking for employment." She spoke back to the barman, she didn't sound desperate in a pathetic way. Why was she so eager? There are other pubs in need of help.

"You're too . . . nice." Harry explained, not too convincingly.

"How would you know?" She snapped.

"Too pretty." He answered more honestly, "They'd have you against a wall."

"Just give 'er a chance." Vivian voice spoke up, making herself known to the the Irish woman. "You're new, in need of a job."  She watched her as she walked towards the pair, until pointing at Harry, "and you need a barmaid." She jumped up on to the table near the two and sitting down, swinging her legs.

She examined the woman, head to toe. She looked normal but when she looked in her eyes, she saw some kind of anxiousness but her stance showed confidence. But those bloody eyes threw her off. Eyes of trouble, her mother would say. "What's your name."

"Grace Burgess" she answered simply, kind of waiting for Vivian to answer the same, but was met with a silence. After a moment of silence and an odd look from the green dressed woman, Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead. Just as he was about to speak the lady cut in, "I have experience," She started rooted through her bag, "and references." She handed a few papers to him. She and Harry were talking, something about Ireland, blah, blah, blah.

She zoned out, ignoring the two. She thought about the her, making assumptions that could've been way off. But those fucking eyes had something in them, bad. Vivian saw her face pale, ghostly white. Her blue eyes and her pale lips.

She was brought back to reality when she heard the spittoon that was on the floor be picked up. It was Grace. She had moved and she wasn't pale anymore. She now watched her movement carefully, doing a job she hadn't even got. And out of all the possibilities in Vivian's head she did not expect to see this woman singing.

"I wish I was in Carrickfergus, only for nights in Ballygrand." Vivian watched her sing as she scoops up the other two spittoons. She clutched all three in her hand. She pours the slimy, disgusting contents, out of one, then, the other, all while singing.

After a moment of whatever that was, she heard Harry chuckle lightly, "In Ireland my singing made them cry and stopped the fighting." Grace said. To be fair, Vivian spaced out for half of it but, the situation was just a bit odd and spur of the moment. She just starting singing. And cleaning.

"I hope you know a lot of songs." Harry said, scratching his neck. That, that's what convinced him? My god. She should probably starts dancing while brushing her hair to get what she wants. Grace smiled, maybe a smile meant to be polite but just made Vivian's stomach twist. She thanked him, and nodded at Vivian and left.

Vivian and Harry watched the door for a second before Harry got back to work, a bit happier than before. Vivian still looked at the door, unaware of what just happened. She looked between the door and Harry. "You know my brother will have something to say. About the singing" She looked at him but there was no sense of uneasy, this just put him in a happier mood.

He looked at her, "I need the help 'round here. Every night the same hard work. New face 'round too. Grace Burgress, God help her."

She looked at him, "So you found none of that, bursting into song . . . awkward?" He didn't answer, and just glanced at her, shrugging, then walked into the back.

"Wait, awkward?" Something snapped in her mind. She ran to the booth, getting the crossword. "Ha, Ha. Twenty-one across. I got it!" She squealed to herself. " See Harry didn't need you." She heard him laugh at the back. She decided to clear her mind and think about the new Grace Burgress later.

—

She wasn't meant to be here, God save her if Tom found her. He was getting on her nerves lately, and she could tell she was pushing him right to the edge, but she couldn't care.

She was sitting down on the ground, legs tangling over the cut, listening to the sounds coming from the factories in the distance. She was in a hidden part of the Cut, behind some of the old stables. She knew her way around the Cut, as she had been here the majority of her childhood.

She checked the time on her pocket-watch, to which it said twelve-thirty. She had stolen the watch off one of her brothers before they went away to France, and kept it since, she couldn't just give it back or else they'd know she took it, so she saved it.

She had to meet her friends at the Golden pub at one. They often went to the Golden, due to the fact no one with the Shelby name drank there, expect Vivian. She had about thirty minutes and she was getting bored of sitting on the edge of the Cut.

She ventured to the nearby stables that was used for storage, it was fairly empty and unused, so Vivian kept her stash around the side of the structure, hidden by some stray crates. She stocked up on supplies, filling her pockets with a pack of cigarettes and two small blue viles. She had stolen most of the stash from her brothers, the Garrison and even some passing strangers. She was quite good with stealing and she wasn't caught most of the time.

She finally left the cut, sneaking through alleyways, avoiding the busy streets. The back ways weren't the safest especially for a young girl but how was she meant to get around without being seen.

As she turned the corner she saw a cat, walking along the poorly constructed wall, staring into Vivian's soul with its greenish-yellow eyes. The gaze gave her goosebumps. She hated cats. The way they barely moved and when they did it was so unsettling, how quiet they are and the hissing noise, and the bloody eyes. She couldn't take her hazel ones off them. She was in a trance, as she walked her eyes remained glued on it, until she walked into another alley. She snapped her eyes back in front of her.

She saw the pub on the corner. The dim yellow light shine out the frosted glass, and the old bricks that have darken over time. She pushed the heavy doors open, already hearing the clattering of glasses and chairs and scattered chatter around the pub

Glancing around, she saw her best friend, Ryan, who was talking to some girl who looked a bit too old for him. She wondered to the bar, standing behind Ryan, while he was still talking to this girl, who she recognise, but couldn't seem to place where from.

While Ryan didn't notice her, the girl beside him did. She looked Vivian up and down, causing Ryan to turn, "Vivian, my bestest friend, this is. . ." he spoke, before turning to the girl, waiting for an answer.

"Margaret" she answered with a smile, putting out her hand to Vivian to which she shook, being friendly.

Vivian thought the name would help but unfortunately it didn't, "Hi." She greeted.

"It's nice to meet you Vivian. Ryan, was it?" She asked, before continuing, to Ryan and he nodded in response. "Yeah, he was just saying he was meeting some friends and I decided to keep him company until then."

She smiled, "but now I've got to go entertain some of my friends," she said before turning to Ryan, "so I will see you soon. And I'll call you." She spoke, kissing him on the cheek before walking off.

Vivian glared at her friend, but he looked to her with excitement. "What was that?" Vivian asked.

"That, my little Shelby, was true love in the making." He spoke to his best friend. Vivian finally took a seat on the stool, glaring at him. "Did you see her?"

"First, I'm older than you and second, yes, Ryan, I saw her, but I'm not too sure you did." He chuckled at her, putting an arm around her. Vivian ordered a whiskey from the barman. He didn't hesitate, and served her.

"Vivian, of course I did. She was gorgeous and her—" he spoke before.

"Ryan James Jones, if you finish that fucking sentence, I will smash this glass over your head." She spoke quickly, squeezing her eyes shut. He laughed but knew she was serious, he made that mistake before and he learnt from it. "I'm talking about the fact she looks the same age as Ada, actually older." She said.

"Margaret isn't that bad" He said leaning back a bit, sipping his whiskey, "...and neither is Ada" he muttered into his glass. Vivian heard though and Ryan earned himself a clip on the ear. They both laughed a bit.

"God help Ada, two Jones boys after her." She muttered to herself.

It was no lie Ryan's brother, Kol, loved Ada. He were always flirting in an all too obvious way, but some how her brothers didn't notice . "Was it just me or did Margaret look familiar?" She said to him, breaking the fits of giggles.

"I don't know. She said she worked down at the market." He thought, "It's probably just you and your paranoid mind." He said poking her temples.

"Where's my drink?" A smug voice came from behind Vivian. The person wrapped his arms around her neck, causing her to huff in annoyance. Isaiah Jesus.

"Took you a while, Jesus" Ryan asked, pushing a glass toward him.

"She wanted another round but she—" he spoke with confidence, but before he could finish, "Eh, get your fucking whore hands off him, Zaiah" she exclaimed, shrugging her shoulders until his arms were off her. They both laughed at her. "You two are disgusting. The whores, both of ye."

"So, you going to the party tonight, Shelby?" Isaiah said, pulling a stool round.

"I might, haven't decide yet." Vivian spoke. The two boys looked at each other with a smug smiles on their faces.

"So that's a yes." Ryan answered. It was annoying how much they knew about her. She scoffed a bit, but no words came out and she just huffed as she took a sip from her glass. "You always say you might and you always end up going."

"Fuck off" she huffed and the boys laughed at her, "I'm not that predictable."

"Oh, yes you are," said the two in sync.

"Says the one who has shagged every girl in Small Heath, twice," she ranted, causing Ryan to chuckle in amusement, "and you who only likes woman that could be as old as your mum."

"I haven't shagged you." Isaiah spoke, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

"That is true." Ryan stated, pointing at his friend.

"Because he probably has the clap." She said, stealing his cigarette holder, taking one of her own, even if she had her own in her pocket.

"That is also true." Ryan said, as she lit the smoke, taking a drag.

Isaiah glaring at him, "ha, ha." He deadpanned, flicking Ryan's ear, as well as Vivian's.

—

The Shelby girl was bored out of her mind, her aunt was sat across from who was reading the newspaper. Vivian huffed and sighed. Polly just ignored her. Her niece had a tendency to be annoying when like this. Vivian stood up and walked around the kitchen before jumping up on the counter, looking out the window at the busy streets. She swung her legs back and forward, feet hitting the cupboard below.

Polly got heavily annoyed at her niece, "If your that bored go to Ryan's or Isaiah's, or whatever you do, but please, for the love of god, get out of my kitchen." She spoke calmly and never looked up from her newspaper.

She jumped off and walked over to the table, standing over her aunt, quietly. After a moment of silence between the two, Polly was about give out to her, but Vivian reached her hand across the table, quickly and took the bottle of whiskey and ran out the house. She didn't hear Polly shout, as she was probably thankful she had left.

"That fucking nightmare of a child." Polly muttered to herself, back in the kitchen were she had left.

She stopped running when she got out the door, strolling along down Waterly Lane, glancing behind every so often. She turned off Waterly Lane, and took a swing from the bottle, grinning. Polly always got the right stuff. She made her way to the Cut hoping to find something more interesting there.

Vivian was sat on the stony ground dangling her legs over the edge. Her reflection staring back at her. She had thought about the Irish barmaid, Grace Burgess. Out of all the place, she landed here. the name Small Heath, doesn't even sound appealing as it, never mind the trouble in the city. She thought Galway would be better, unless she had to leave. She got knocked up, runaway bride, a wanted criminal, her mind thought of all the options.

She then thought about the new coppers in town. She knew that he was Inspector Chester Campbell was from Belfast and he was here to 'clean up the city' but that was all. She didn't know a lot about him but she was determined to find out.

She looked ahead, seeing the smoke from the factories. The dark fumes filling the sky, making Vivian wish she was in the countryside somewhere or out travelling like they used to when she was little. The green hills and meadows of wildflowers. The family all together, before her cousins were taken, when both her parents were here and before war, when everything was fine

She grew bored again, and the bottle was empty so it was time to find more alcohol and someone new to annoy.

She strolled down the street, head held high. She watched the people of Small Heath go about their day. It was a busy day and the street was crowded but something caught her eye, or someone. Someone in a very bad state.

"Arthur!" She exclaimed over the people, she rushed over to her brother who was almost crawling on the ground, "For god's sake Arthur, what 'ave ya done now?"

His face was botched and face spilling for his mouth, head and other injuries that bled through his clothes. "Come on, up you get." She put her arm under his, and pull him up as best as she could, "Come on Arthur, help me out here. You're a Shelby bleeding in the middle of the street." She groaned.

He tried to push himself up and once he was on his feet and walking, it was a bit easier but still she couldn't wait 'til they got home.

"Move!" She shouted, over the crowd, her patience wearing thin. She heard Arthur groaning in pain each step. "Arthur if you don't put a bit of effort into this, I'll leave you here in this bloody state."

People moved out of the way straight away, while other became annoyed until they turned around to see a pair of Shelbys. Eventually they got home in under fifteen minutes. The longest fifteen minutes of Vivian's life.

"Polly, Tommy, Ada! Fucking John!" She shouted, pulling him through the house, and into the kitchen. She heard feet rushing down the stairs, it was Finn.

"What are y- fuck, what happened?" Finn asked, stunned at his brother appearance.

"Go get Polly, she's at the church." She ordered him. She heard Finn little feet scurry to the door.

She then heard her older brother, "Woah, Finn slow down." It was John, just coming in the house at the right time. "Arthur looks like shit." Finn explained quickly. "When's 'e not?" John chuckled as Finn fled out the door.

"Thanks John" Arthur spoke sarcastically to him as he made his way into the kitchen. Vivian had got some cloths, soaked in whiskey. She wasn't entirely aware of what she was doing. She saw John's smirk turn into disgust, looking at his brother's state, "Who did this?" He asked his oldest brother.

"Okay, how 'bout we wait 'til Pol is here because I can't handle you-"she pointed to John, "-getting all worked up about something, that Tom is just going to solve in a much better way." She wasn't in the mood for this shit.

"What is will are the slamming doors and shouting." Ada?

"Where the fuck did you come from?" Vivian stopped looking at her sister who at appeared behind John.

"I got home about ten minutes before you started all the screaming— Jesus Arthur what happened to you." Ada slid past John.

"So you did hear me calling for ya?" She was a bit pissed at her sister but that's as the least of her worries, where the fuck is Finn? Ada gave her a look before mumbling, that she'd find the first aid kit,

"John, get Tommy would ya. Oh and a bottle of whiskey or gin or something alcohol." She didn't know what to do, just some alcohol for cleaning wounds, and soon John left to find Tommy, in a huff.

It was her and Arthur. "You don't even know what your doing." He stated, in pain, as she cleaned the scars on her arm. "So what, do you want me to do 'bout it, leave you here. No? Shut up then, I'm only filling in for Polly." And thanks be to god, she heard the voice of her aunt, "Vivian, Arthur." She spoke walking through the house.

As she entered, Ada had just come in too, tossing the kit on the table, "Oh you hear her, eh?" She snarled at her sister, "piss off." as she boiled the kettle on the stove.

Polly sat down beside Arthur, grabbing his arm, roughly, "Jesus Pol, easy." He hissed. She gave him a pointed look. She used the cloths Vivian was using to clean his hand, "it's broken" Polly muttered to herself, quietly. She grab a finger splint from the kit. Vivian sort of stepped back from him, not knowing what to do. She would just wait til she was needed.

Soon John came in, doing the same as Vivian, but with no actual intention to help, just sat there, twirling a toothpick around. "John wiped the blood out of his eye." Ada ordered,

"Since when do you give orders?"

"I'm a trained nurse."

"And I'm the King of England." Vivian chuckled at her sister.

She gave her a look, meaning something along the lines of, 'oh you think your so fucking funny, don't you?' Vivian practically heard her voice in her head, saying it sarcastically.

"Don't make me laugh, it hurts my face." Arthur let out a painful chuckle. He looked like he was smiling but it was hard to tell. His face was awfully deformed, but maybe the blood just made it worse

"I bloody am." She whined, hitting Vivian's arm, as she passed her. Ada was not a nurse, full stop. But despite how many times she went to the classes, she wasn't squeamish.

"You went to one class in the church hall and got thrown out for giggling." John smirked. He nudged his youngest sister, his signature smirk plastered across his face. Polly was silent, focusing on what she was doing the whole time.

"Not before I learned to stop someone from choking—"

"I'm not bloody choking, am I?" Arthur snapped, painfully. She knew he was in pain but he was being a bloody ignorant bastard today.

Maybe we she test Ada's skills?

"You will be when I wrap this cloth 'round your neck." She sneered, as she poured the hot water into the bucket.

She saw him before he came rushing in, bottle in hand, "Let me see him" his voice came out a bit muffled, as a cigarette balanced on his lip. "Here Arthur, have this." He mumbled to Arthur, opening it up.

Arthur took a swing, wasting no time, but it didn't do him much as he groaned in pain. Tom soaked a cloth in the water, ringing it out.

"Gimme that." Tom took the bottle, pouring some rum on the damp cloth. He dabbed the the cloth, roughly against his face, but was stopped, when Arthur grabbed his arm, "He said Mr. Churchill sent him to Birmingham. National interest he said. Something about a robbery."

After saying this, Tommy stepped back, Polly eyed her middle nephew and Vivian's eyes glanced around the room.

"He said he wants us to help 'im"

"We don't help coppers." John spoke quieter than before, looking down at his oldest brother.

Tommy looked into the space as the cogs in his head worked. No one knew what went on in his head, not even Pol.

        NOTES
Hi, I know its late but here. A lot of this chapter is from the original book from a few months ago so yea. I have exams coming up and I haven't gotta to writing future chapter so it might not be every Saturday but i will try. Hope everyone is having a great day and is having a good November. For extra updates and edits, go to my TikTok, vvioletneklace.wp and for Spotify playlist, vvioletneklace.wp.