Pearl had only worked at The Garrison a few days now but already realised why Harry was so hesitant to hire her. Any girl less experienced than herself probably would've been out of the door in tears long ago. The pub was frequently turned upside down by brawls sparked by drunken men after a long day of work at the factories, or sometimes after their football team had just lost a match. To be honest she was shocked that her colleague, Grace, had lasted as long as she had.

Despite this Pearl kept her head down and got on with her work, whether that be refilling glasses or wiping every kind of substance off of the tables.

Whilst working there she'd finally put faces to most of the names of the Shelby family. John and Arthur were the ones she'd seen the most as they both spent a large part of their days at the pub. She'd seen Polly a few times and she was just as refined as Myrtle had said, yet she had that sharp glint in her eye - mirroring that of the man she'd seen atop the horse a few days prior.

Pearl had learnt that this was Thomas and had only seen him very briefly as he'd make his way into the pub and go straight into the private booth in the corner. Luckily for Pearl, the family often liked to conduct their affairs within this booth, hardly caring about the two barmaids. Mr. Grenfeld had been right, people don't take the same notice to a sleuthing woman as they do to a man.

So far she'd only overheard minor dribs and drabs of family drama and the occasional talk of betting licences and whatnot. Until one drizzly Tuesday in October, when a bloody and bruised Arthur had burst through the doors and joined his brothers within the booth. The hatch that joined the private area and the bar was opened just a crack and Pearl stepped closer whilst she cleaned some glasses.

"Fuckin' hell Arthur, someone's proper done you in" cackled John with a slap on his knee. He slid a glass of whiskey over to his brother, which Arthur quickly clasped into his firm grip and chucked down his throat.

"It's not fuckin' funny John. There's a copper in town, not like the ones from round 'ere. Sent by Winston Churchill 'imself"

Thomas sat back and took a drag of his cigarette, "What did he want, Arthur?"

"I don't know, some shit about about a robbery-"

Oh for fucks sake. She anticipated police, but not sent directly from a bloody secretary of state.

"- I told him I didn't know anything about any fuckin' robbery and..." Arthur motioned to his bloody state before pushing his hand through his dishevelled hair. Thomas stumped out his cigarette and stood up. "Well Tom?"

Thomas didn't respond as he walked towards the hatch which Pearl turned away from as he approached. He pushed the doors open and leant against the wooden panelling.

"A bottle of rum...?" he paused, awaiting her name.

"Pearl" she looked at him from over her shoulder as she went to grab a bottle.

He stared at her for a moment noting that he'd never seen her before and Pearl took the time to get her first proper close up look at the man. His raven hair was perfectly kept despite sitting under a cap most of the day and his structured face was just as sharp as the razor hidden within his hat. However, the most blaring thing was the complete void of emotion on his face, he could have said anything in that moment and Pearl would never have suspected it. "A bottle of rum, Pearl"

"White or dark, Mr Shelby?" She faced back towards the shelf and hoped Thomas hadn't caught on to her inspection of him.

"Either'll do"

She plucked the neck of a bottle of dark rum and walked it over to the hatch and handed it to Thomas, "It's on the house"

Pearl held his strong gaze as he examined her too for a moment before completely closing the door to the hatch and returning to his brothers. Now all she could hear were murmurs and the occasional grunt from Arthur. She internally rolled her eyes at being cut off from the source but decided to carry on cleaning glasses.

Grace sauntered over and stood beside Pearl.

"He's attractive isn't he? Thomas Shelby, I mean." Grace smiled fondly over at the hatch as though she could see him through the frosted glass.

"Careful, they might cut you if they hear you saying his name aloud" Pearl joked quietly and Grace chuckled in response before covering her mouth with her hand. "Grace, what's a girl like you doing working in a place like this anyway?"

She watched Pearl for a moment, contemplating her answer, "I could say the same for you."

"Just a girl moving away from home and trying to make a living..." Pearl placed down the final glass and rounded the bar to start tucking in stray chairs, her skirt swaying around her ankles as she moved. "...anywhere I can"

Once again Grace left a little too long for her response and looked down at the ground, "Yes. Yeah, me too"

Pearl was definitely intrigued by her seemingly delicate co-worker but not enough to dwell on it. Afterwards the pair separated and carried on with their menial tasks.

Whilst Pearl tucked in a few chairs in the middle of the room the doors to The Garrison flew open and a man ran in flailing about and screaming that they're gonna get me. He chaotically knocked over tables and chairs as he went, sending glasses spiralling to the floor and smashing. During his panic one of his stray arms flung in Pearl's direction and she quickly ducked out of the way, placing her hands in front of her, as though she were surrendering, and trying to calm down the distressed man. However, it was no use as he continued on and knocked a glass against the bar which shattered and Pearl felt a piece slice across her right cheekbone and she instinctively made a move to grab her gun.

Although before she could the door to the private booth opened and all three Shelby brothers appeared and swiftly got into formation around the man. They grabbed him by the arms and threw him to the ground, expertly restraining him. Thomas moved his head closer to the man who was still writhing underneath.

"Danny! Danny, you're home. You're not in France your home" Thomas' tone was firm but somehow soft as he attempted to soothe Danny. "You're not a whizz-bang, you're a man. Danny, you're home"

Pearl watched the scene before her, unaware of the blood trickling down the side of her face until Grace pulled her back behind the bar and started to dab at the blood with a cloth, her eyes full of worry.

The brothers managed to bring Danny back to reality and when he returned he was deeply apologetic. He turned and noticed Grace holding a cloth up to Pearl's face.

"I'm so sorry, miss. I'm so sorry" Pearl ached for the pain etched into Danny's face and gently brushed Grace's hand away from her.

"It's okay, Danny" she gave him a small, reassuring smile, "I'm fine, completely unharmed"

He nodded quickly but the tormented look on his face did not falter. He continued to apologise to the brothers who walked him out and sent him home to his wife.

Pearl brushed down her clothes, checking for any remaining glass and had not noticed that the cut on her face had continued to bleed. Thomas strode back inside and made his way over to the bar.

"Send the bill for all of this-" he motioned to the mess behind him "- to the Peaky Blinders, we'll sort it"

Pearl nodded and noticed his eyes lingering on the cut on her cheek. She brought her fingers up to her face and saw that blood stained the tips of her fingers when she moved them away, Grace offered her the cloth and Pearl patted her face once more.

"Are you hurt?" Thomas asked, with not a note of concern in his voice. It felt as though she was an item on a list that he needed to tick off.

"Like I said Mr Shelby, I'm unharmed"

He briefly nodded and then made his way out of the pub, leaving those who remained slightly taken aback at the scene that had just unfolded. Pearl turned back to Grace and thanked her for her help before the pair made their way to clearing up the mess that had just been made.

At the end of her shift Pearl shrugged on her coat and locked up The Garrison before making her way home. Rain started to pour down lightly, dusting over her features and turning her blonde hair slightly darker as she walked through the desolate streets of Small Heath with barely any light to guide her. When Pearl turned down onto her road she noticed a man walking alone, smartly dressed in a bowler hat and a seemingly expensive trench coat. Most of the men in Small Heath couldn't afford such a dapper get up so Pearl decided to hang back behind the corner of a house, hiding herself away in the shadows to observe this strange late night wanderer.

The man stopped underneath a street light and turned his head as though he knew, or possibly felt, that he was being watched. Underneath the light half of his face was illuminated and Pearl froze as she recognised his face.

Chief Inspector Campbell. Shit.

—

Pearl felt thoroughly shaken the next few days and decided she would be significantly more careful with her affairs now that she knew Campbell was in town.

Myrtle noticed the tense nature of the girl and invited her out for lunch on Pearl's day off from The Garrison. So the pair headed into the town later that day and grabbed a bite to eat in a small cafe with a green sign that read Travelli's Cafe.

"I told you that job was nothing but trouble, my love" Myrtle placed her hand on top of Pearl's and squeezed as she glanced at the healed cut on her cheek.

"I suppose it's to be expected, although slightly messier than I anticipated"

Myrtle laughed a little whilst waving a hand dismissively, "That's men for you"

Nodding, Pearl took a sip of her tea.

"What would they do if we women couldn't clean up their messes for them?" It wasn't really a question, more of a passing remark. Myrtle went to take a bite of one of the sausages on her plate before faltering and instead pulled a packet of smokes out of her pocket and offered one to Pearl, "You smoke?"

"I do" Pearl pulled a cigarette from the packet and allowed Myrtle to light hers before lighting her own.

"Good" Myrtle exhaled the smoke towards Pearl, "It's always good for a women to have a pass time, we should never have idle hands"

Pearl smirked towards the old woman who she grew more fond of the more time she spent in her company, "I completely agree"

The two spent the next hour grazing their food and divulging in idle chatter. Once they were finished they settled the bill and walked out of the door of the cafe. Just as they stepped out Pearl heard some familiar voices rapidly approaching. She turned her head to the right just in time to spot all three Shelby brothers piled into a car, racing through the streets. Pearl could've sworn Thomas had noticed her, she felt a bolt of ice down her spine as the two locked eyes for barely a second, but then the car sped off into the distance. It seemed as though they were driving out of the city and Pearl was eager to know exactly where they were going.

Before she could linger on that thought for too long Myrtle was grabbing her hand and pulling her towards a glass shop front.

"Oh, isn't that just the loveliest scarf you've ever seen?" Myrtle beamed as she took in the thick, burgundy, cashmere scarf before her. Pearl turned and took note of the shabby piece of fabric wrapped around Myrtle's neck and asked if she'd like to go inside to take a closer look at the scarf.

"No! Don't be silly. I could never afford something like that" The old woman didn't look the least bit phased by the things she had to go without. Pearl, however, felt a pang of pity that this woman, who in Pearl's eyes deserved the world, had to go without the finer things in life. So she decided that one day she would come back and buy that scarf for Myrtle.

The pair spent a bit longer window shopping before heading back home. When they turned into Glovers Road they noticed everyone was standing outside of their homes with their doors flung open and policemen on horses wandering the street.

Myrtle walked towards a middle aged woman who lived a few doors down from them. "Margaret! what's going on?"

Margaret looked bemused as she clutched two small children close to her, "We don't know. It's the coppers, they've been tearing apart every house in Small Heath"

Pearl furrowed her brow as she looked around, as far she knew this was nothing to do with the blinders. Surely they weren't keeping the guns in some poor families' homes?

She moved past Myrtle who was still conversing with Margaret about the goings on on the street and walked up to her front door, which the police were still inside. She balled her fists and marched in.

"Excuse me, what do you think you're doing? You can't just raid the house of a poor old wom-"

Pearl halted and her face dropped as she came face to face with Chief Inspector Campbell.

She silently cursed herself for not hanging back with Myrtle. Pearl stayed set in place, as though if she didn't move he wouldn't be able to see her.

He looked over the girl for a moment with a curious eye, clearly trying to place her. Once it finally dawned on him a shit eating grin spread across his face and he removed his hat. "Ah, Miss-"

"Moore, Pearl Moore" she quickly cut in.

"Miss Pearl Moore" he dragged out her name far more than she would've liked with a surprised lilt. "Well, this is a surprise. Never would've expected to find the likes of you in a Birmingham slum"

Pearl looked away from him and defensively crossed her arms over her chest.

"What, perchance, are you doing in Small Heath? Did you find London not to your taste anymore?" He stalked around her with a smirk, his eyes never leaving her person.

"Moved away. Starting afresh"

Campbell nodded slowly, pursing his lips in thought.

"And what exactly are you doing here, Inspector? Other than terrorising families of course" her eyes shot daggers in his direction and she shifted slightly on her feet, trying to stop her skin from crawling at the smell of his smokey breath wafting over her.

"I'm sure you're already well aware, Miss Moore"

"I'm sorry Inspector but I haven't got a clue what you're referring to" she tried to keep her tone neutral as she lied, knowing he could easily tell when he was being deceived. It was like a second sense to him, he could practically smell it in the air.

"On the contrary, had this been five years ago I would have had no doubt that you were somehow wrapped up in all of this" Campbell placed his hat back on his head and made his way to the door where he paused for a moment. "I'm sure we'll speak again soon"

Pearl watched as his back refused to move from her door frame and she had to suppress the overwhelming urge to pull out her revolver and point it straight at his stupid bowler hat. "And I'm sure that's hardly necessary"

He turned back around to face her one last time, parting his smug smile to place his pipe between his lips "If I find out you are involved in any way... Well let's just hope that what you're saying is true, Miss Pearl Moore. For your sake"

With that he left the house and moved onto the next.

Feeling thoroughly uneasy Pearl let her fingers mindlessly travel to the feeling of her gun underneath her skirt.

"I don't like the looks of that new inspector" Myrtle had appeared in the doorway and was shrugging off her coat. Pearl walked towards the door and pressed it shut before turning around to view the chaos the home had been left in.

"No. Nor do I"

—

That same evening the Peaky Blinders had ordered everyone to go out onto the streets and burn their pictures of the King, in protest of the new inspector and his coppers. Pearl had gone out onto the streets alone to watch this outpour of rebellion as Myrtle had already gone to bed.

She wandered down each road watching as people rallied together in defiance of Chief Inspector Campbell and smiled. That bastard deserved it. Pearl settled against a wall and pulled her coat around herself to keep out the chill as she lit a cigarette and watched the festivities.

"Got a picture of the King, Miss Moore?"

Pearl flinched as she turned her head and saw none other than Thomas Shelby standing beside her. His face was stoic as he stared into the bonfire, the flames illuminating the sharp edges of his face.

"Not personally, Mr Shelby. I don't like to feel like i'm being watched" At this he turned to face her and due to his curiosity with the newcomer he found himself inspecting her once again. "How do you know my surname?"

"Oh, I know everything that happens around here" he turned to face the flames once again "And I take a special interest in those who are getting my brothers drunk everyday. Wouldn't want them going around saying anything they shouldn't" Thomas pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and too started to smoke.

Pearl smiled at the irony of what he'd said as she took another drag of her own cigarette, "I'm just a barmaid Mr Shelby"

"A barmaid at The Garrison, eh?" The smoke slipped between his slips as he spoke and along with the light from the fire he looked mystical "Let me ask, are you a whore?"

Pearl turned towards him, his facade shattered in her eyes whilst she stood gawking at his abrasiveness "No, I'm not"

Thomas nodded, his face unchanged. "Then The Garrison is no place for you"

"I'll be perfectly fine" she was clearly affronted by his question and couldn't help it creeping into her voice.

"Don't be offended Miss Moore, we're all whores. Some of us just sell different parts of ourselves" everything he said he spoke with absolute clarity and certainty, taking no note of the effect he'd had on the girl.

"I promise you, none of me is for sale. Good day Mr Shelby" Pearl threw her cigarette onto the street and stumped it out as she walked away, scoffing at his pompousness.

Pearl couldn't believe anyone could possibly be so arrogant. Although, once she was home a part of her cursed her pride of getting in the way of a chance to get ever so closer to the Shelby patriarch and therefore closer to the guns.