Since the bonfires Pearl had gathered little new information from working at The Garrison; the only Shelby family member she had encountered was a drunk Arthur complaining about the continual wins of Monaghan Boy at the races. However, she'd grown closer to Grace throughout their time spent together and learnt that she was from Galway; albeit still in the dark about why such a sweet girl had landed in Small Heath. That said, outside of The Garrison, Pearl hardly ever saw Grace and often wondered if she was residing further into Birmingham - she seemed like a girl with money, despite working where she did. If this was the case then why was she slumming it in Small Heath?

Pearl found herself continuously intrigued by the woman and the many questions Pearl had about her. Despite not thinking she had any connection with the missing guns she decided to keep tabs on Grace - just in case.

One evening Grace was calming the rowdy men with her angelic voice and Pearl stood behind and watched. Once she was finished she hopped off of the table and moved back behind the bar.

Pearl nudged Grace's shoulder once the pair were side by side again, "It's incredible how you that"

"Why, thank you" Grace smiled back, "I used to sing to the men in the pub back in Dublin, it had the same effect"

"Well you have such a soothing voice, i'm not surprised" Pearl ran a rag through her hands as she thought, "Grace, would you like to go out for lunch tomorrow? I don't really know any other girls in our neighbourhood and don't get me wrong my landlady is lovely but it's just not the same"

Grace was already nodding before Pearl had finished, "Yes, I'd love to. I've got an appointment at three in the city"

"That's no bother. I'll meet you at one"

So the girls settled the plan to meet the following day.

—

Later that evening Pearl had received a letter from Mr Grenfeld asking for updates on the whereabouts of the guns. Frustrated that she was still at a dead end she growled at the letter and threw it in the fire, raking her hands over her face in annoyance. She decided to get out of the house for some air, she couldn't call it fresh but that was bloody Birmingham for you.

That's how she found herself wandering along the edge of the Cut, going over the notes she'd made and trying to put together bits and pieces looking for a lead. After reading and re-reading the same words she stuffed her notebook into her bag with a huff.

Pearl pulled out a cigarette and tried multiple times to strike a light and after the sixth try she became too aggravated and threw the box of matches into the Cut, watching as they sank below the murky water.

"For fucks sake!" She kicked the mud below her feet, "Can't anything go fucking right, for once!"

"Careful love, you might dirty your pretty boots" a feminine voice called from behind.

Pearl turned to see Polly Gray standing just behind her, a scowl on her face and cigarette in hand.

"Sorry, Mrs Gray. Caught me in a moment of frustration" Pearl hung her head, embarrassed by her outburst.

"Don't worry we've all been there" she outstretched her hand which Pearl was anxious to take, slightly intimidated by the women before her.

"Pearl Moore" she stated as the pair shook hands.

Polly took a long drag of her cigarette. "I know"

"Yes" Pearl scratched her forehead and turned back to look out to the Cut, "I imagined you would"

Polly grabbed Pearl's wrist which was still in possession of the cigarette and lit a match to which Pearl leant forward and inhaled, giving a small appreciative nod to the woman.

"So, what are you doing in Small Heath?" Polly asked.

"With all due respect, Mrs Gray, I wish people would stop asking me that" she still didn't make eye contact with the woman, afraid she may have spoken to her in the wrong manner. However, when she dared take a glance in Polly's direction she noticed there was a small smirk on her face.

"Yes, well ever since the boys returned from France it's become a man's world once again. So don't be surprised when they all want to know exactly what you're doing in it" Polly looked at her and quirked her eyebrow, insinuating that she still wanted Pearl to answer the question.

"Moved from London to start a new life, landed in Birmingham. That's the be-all and end-all i'm afraid" Pearl's answers were always short, never too much, never too little.

Polly's face stayed emotionless and she threw her finished cigarette in to the Cut, "You can hold your cards as close to your chest as you want, but if my boys want to know something about you they'll always find it out"

Pearl turned to her then with a furrowed brow, "And do they want to know?"

All Polly did was give her a small smile but Pearl could tell there was something behind it, a deeper meaning that she couldn't decipher. Polly turned and started to walk back up the bank, "Don't stay out here too long. Bad things happen to pretty girls who like to hang around the Cut"

Pearl took one last drag of her cigarette and exhaled it towards the sky, watching as it swirled into the grey clouds above her, feeling decidedly more confused than when she'd arrived.

—

She had gone into The Garrison early the next morning to set up, knowing that Harry would be barmaid-less the rest of the day. It was just past the crack of dawn when she'd walked in and orange rays of light were breaking through the windows and spilling all over the floor. She got straight to work taking the chairs off of tables and restocking the shelves. Pearl had just started to mop the floors when she heard the door open.

"We're still closed" she hadn't turned whoever it was and carried on mopping when she heard a man clear his throat. Pearl turned to face Thomas Shelby. Her eyes widened slightly and she put the mop aside and started to walk to the bar, "Sorry, Mr Shelby"

He walked forward and took a seat at the bar, "It's a bit early for a drink, is it not?"

"I'm not here for a drink, Miss Moore" he stated.

Pearl turned away from the liquor shelf and placed her hands flat down on the bar. Of course he's not. "Please, call me Pearl"

His eyes flicked between hers for a moment before exhaling, "Alright, call me Tommy"

Although Pearl offered her own name first, she felt slightly on guard that Tommy had decided to be so informal. She barely knew the man and from what she'd heard he was hardly a trusting bloke.

"I heard Aunt Pol had a chat with you yesterday"

Pearl smiled as she looked to the side and ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek, "On your orders I expect?"

"I like to know about those who work for my family" he said blankly with a shrug.

Pearl raised an eyebrow, "But I don't work for your family, I work here"

"Yes, The Garrison. Soon to be owned by one Arthur Shelby"

"Of course. You really do have the whole city under your control, don't you?" Pearl thought she caught a glimpse of amusement on Tommy's face, but only for a split second.

"That's how I like it, Pearl and I like to know all about my employees. Like to know that they can be trusted"

Pearl pushed herself off of the bar and crossed her arms, "So why didn't you just ask me yourself?"

"That's why I'm here now" he picked up his cap and pointed it at her, "You interest me. You show up in my city, seek employment in my family pub-"

"It wasn't your pub when I was hired"

" -and you're not bloody scared, by any of it" there was a slight tone of warning in his voice but nothing threatening.

"Do you want me to be scared of you, Tommy?"

"It'd serve you better if you were"

That was a warning. However, one that Pearl didn't heed as she stepped closer to the bar. "That wasn't a yes"

He clicked his tongue as he observed her, "You're living with Mrs Clarkson down Glovers Road"

She just nodded. Nothing about his tone showed it was a question, it was a fact. A fact he knew.

"Tell her we'll pay for any damages caused by the raids"

"Thank you" Pearl's lips turned up into a devilish smirk, "You know she mentioned that she used to teach you. A reckless, carefree Thomas Shelby - what a marvel"

And there it was, almost a smile.

"I'm sure Mrs Clarkson doesn't have the finest opinion of me. Don't listen to her" 

It was a dismissive comment that Pearl was sure was laced with a hint of sarcasm. Although it was true, Myrtle hardly held the Shelby brothers in high regard.

"On the contrary, Tommy, I'll listen, I'll believe, maybe occasionally  I'll imagine you with your messy hair roaming the streets of Small Heath"

"Pearl, do you spend a lot of time imagining me with messy hair?" 

Now it was Tommy's turn to smirk. Pearl stepped back, partly recoiling from her poor choice of words and partly shocked by Tommy's indecent response.

She started to remove her pinny and grabbed her bag from behind the bar. "You'll have to go now, I'm heading out and I need to lock up before Harry gets here"

If she hadn't known any better she'd think Tommy looked startled. He watched her as she walked towards the door and opened it, motioning for him to leave.

He remained sat in his seat, "No, I'm not finished"

He had no drink, no cigarette. With her. He wasn't finished with her.

Pearl closed the door and walked back to Tommy, she picked up his right hand and uncurled his fingers. She then fished the keys out of her pocket and dropped them into his open palm before turning on her heel and walking away.

"Lock up when you're done. I'm sure Harry won't mind you helping yourself"

And with that she was out of the door.

Later on, Pearl and Grace met at the arranged time and the pair wandered through Small Heath avoiding every whistle or 'give us a smile love' that they encountered on the streets, eventually settling in a moderately bland looking restaurant. They both ordered and chatted whilst they waited for their food to arrive.

"So Grace, what do you think of Thomas Shelby?" Pearl leaned backwards placing her hands in her lap.

"Thomas is..." she paused to contemplate, "an enigma"

Pearl snorted at her response, "Too right. Have you heard, Arthur's gaining ownership of the pub? They're are bosses now"

"Well, when weren't they" Grace smiled, poking fun at the Shelby family.

"Yes, I suppose you're right. It's such an odd place - feels like we're living under a dictatorship, although I suppose we sort are. All of us under the rule of the Peaky Blinders" Pearl said the name with a wonderment about it, like it was something out of an old tale. "Did you know what you were getting into when you moved here? You know, the police state-ness of it all"

Grace's mouth changed into a hard line and she briefly looked away, "Sort of. Yes, I guess I did"

That answer dissatisfied Pearl, she found it an odd response but before she could ask about it the food was brought to their table and Grace quickly changed the topic of conversation.

The two spent the next hour chatting, only very light topics: the food, the weather, clothes - nothing too personal but enough to keep the pair occupied. Pearl enjoyed Grace's company, she really did, she just couldn't help the constant nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right. The feeling that was there every time Pearl asked a question Grace couldn't answer, or she'd look away to avoid eye contact.

Pearl wondered if that's what the Shelby family thought about her. That there was something not quite right.

When the clock chimed two-thirty Grace started to put on her coat. "It's been lovely Pearl but I really should be getting to my appointment"

"Yes, no of course you be in your way" Pearl smiled, raising out of her chair and giving Grace a kiss on the cheek. Grace gave her some money to cover her half of the bill and then left, leaving Pearl contemplating.

She knew she had to follow Grace, there was something about her and Pearl needed to know what it was. She reminded herself that she wasn't here to build relationships and before long she'd be out of this town anyway, so what was the point?

Pearl put the money down on the table and left quickly after Grace did, not wanting to lose her in the crowded streets of Birmingham.

She spotted the short, blonde curls just slightly ahead of her and noticed that her posture wasn't as relaxed as it normally was. Pearl brushed her fingertips over her skirt and felt her revolver, there just as it always was, but she liked to check - to comfort herself. She was following Grace for almost ten minutes before starting to wonder if she really was just going to some sort of appointment and that Pearl had wasted her time that she should be using to search for the guns. But then Grace started to ascend the grand, white steps of an art gallery and checked both ways to see if anyone was watching her.

That's when Pearl's interest piqued.

Following Grace inside she noticed the gallery was fairly desolate and therefore had to be smarter in her hiding, choosing to stand behind the larger sculptures. Pearl watched Grace walk through an archway and Pearl waited a moment before following. However, once she reached said archway a man from security put his hand out to stop her.

"You can't go through their Miss" Pearl stared at him baffled.

"What- Why not?" She occasionally stole glances over his shoulder trying to peer inside.

"Refurbishments, no one's allowed in"

Pearl found it to be a weak excuse but took a step back, "Yes, sorry. That's fine"

Instead Pearl chose to loiter in front of one of the artworks beside the arch, still trying to catch a glimpse of Grace.

Then she saw a flash of those same blonde locks. She was talking to someone but Pearl's view was blocked and she couldn't tell who. Until she heard a thick Irish accent, a familiar Irish accent and Chief Inspector Campbell stepped into view.

"What are your first impressions, agent?"

Oh Grace. Out of all the people in the world it had to be him. Why did it always have to be Inspector bloody Campbell?

Pearl dropped back slightly but still enough to hear scraps of the conversation, making sure to still examine the artwork so as to not alert the security guard.

She'd picked up that Grace was a trained operative of the crown and that her father had been killed by a member of the Irish Republican Army. Occasionally they would walk out of ear shot and Pearl missed the beginnings or endings of their sentences. But then they started to move closer and Pearl heard exactly what she needed to.

"I've discovered that Mr Thomas Shelby is in possession of the guns" Campbell had confirmed Pearl's suspicions and so she listened further, "I hate to do this as much as a father would hate sending his own daughter into a whore house, but I need you to get close to Thomas Shelby. Use any means necessary"

He then handed a package over to Grace wrapped in newspaper and Pearl caught the glimpse of the barrel of a gun.

Deciding that they were nearing the end of their conversation Pearl made her way out of the museum and back to Small Heath. She took the back streets so as to not run into either Grace nor Campbell. Pearl didn't know whether to feel glad that she'd confirmed her suspicions or detest Grace for working with a man that she truly despised.

How could Grace, one of the sweetest women she'd ever known, be working for him?

She felt conflicted, of course, about whether to tell Tommy. If she used this information Pearl knew she would gain his trust, she could feel that she already had a foot in the door with him and this would just solidify it. Although it would mean potentially risking Grace's life, Pearl knew what the blinders did to snitches. She only hoped that Grace would be free to leave, unharmed.