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1922

CLARA SHELBY HATED BURIALS. She despised them in fact. The morbidness of standing amongst hundreds of other dead bodies while covering a new one with dirt and mud, in hope that the said body's soul had been taken to some place better. The girl lingered at the back of the group gathered, a cigarette she'd stolen from Arthur, clutched between her fingers as she watched the vicar give his lengthy farewell. On one side of the grave stood Ada with Karl clutched tightly to her chest, surrounded by communists. Two red flags were rippling in the wind, both displaying the words 'Communist party of Birmingham, Bordesley' and 'Communist party Kentish Town'. Seeing this, the girl scoffed and the sight earned many disapproving grimaces from the rest of the Shelby family.

As Clara drew in another deep breath of smoke, her eyes flitted around examining her scattered family. Her sharp eyes honed in on each of her family members.

It had been a long two years since the downfall of Billy Kimber and a lot had happened. Clara continued with school and was on track to finish next year making her only the first Shelby sibling to complete her schooling. Out of nowhere, Finn had shot up like a bloody sprout and now towered inches above Clara despite the age difference, (something he liked to relentlessly goad her on). John and Esme had added yet another child to their litter, Pol had become more tense and uptight, especially within the last few months, and Arthur...well he was the usual— drunk and desperate.

Penny and Clara were...well, they were something. There wasn't a lot of names for what you could call it, but they didn't need a name. All they needed was to know that they liked each other a lot more than they should've. Over the past two years, they'd snuck around, sneaking in as many secret kisses as possible, taking more trips to their Havana out of the city. They'd gone to see films, their pinkies daring to touch as the lights dimmed. They lived a lie, their sweet whispers and careful caresses forbidden to be shared around others.

Clara exhaled the excess smoke, her eyes looking towards Tommy as he stepped towards the grave of his late best friend. He was different now too. On the night of Kimber's death, it seemed that any of Tommy that may have lingered from before the war had completely vanished once more, swept away with Grace, wherever the woman had ended up.

"I promised my friend Freddie Thorne that I'd say a few words over his grave if he should pass before me," Tommy spoke up, ignoring the hard glares from the communists. "I made this promise before he became me, brother-in-law, when we were in France, fighting for the King."

"Amen." Arthur gruffly chimed in.

"And in the end, it wasn't war that took Freddie...Pestilence took him." Tommy continued as John's newest addition began to cry and wail. Clara's lip furled at the sound, her nose scrunching in distaste. "—But Freddie passed on his soul and his spirit to a new generation before he was cruelly taken."

Clara watched as her brother stepped back, falling back into the Shelby's gathered. The girl stubbed out her cigarette with the toe of her boot, folding her arms before zoning out of the rest of the ceremony. The breeze sweeping the graveyard sent chills through the girl's black dress, her black coat doing little to stop it. She wore her tattered hat, its light grey and faded material covering the majority of her tied-back hair. Her fingers were covered with leather gloves, the skin hidden from view. As two fingers poked her forehead, Clara snapped herself out of her daze, glaring up at Finn who stood smugly with his eyebrow raised.

"I miss when you were tiny." She huffed, rolling her eyes as she fell into step with her brother. "It was easier to push you down the stairs...but I reckon I could still do it."

"Shut it, squirt." Finn taunted, nudging his older sister with his elbow, earning a low grumble in return. "And I know you have cigarettes, I won't tell Pol if you give me one."

"I'm not scared of Pol," Clara huffed, yet, nevertheless, she pulled out two cigarettes, handing one to her brother before placing her own between her lips. She grabbed the gold lighter she'd nicked from John from her pocket and lit her own before allowing the boy to lean down and light his. The two were standing over a random grave, far from the prying eyes of communists and their scattered family. A few rows ahead, John's children were weaving in and out of graves, picking mourning flowers from the graves as they went, trampling those that weren't up to standard.

Clara took a drag of her cigarette, folding her arm across her body as the two Shelby siblings stood silently. She could see Tommy walking with Ada. He was trying to convince her to come home, something he'd been trying and failing to do for years at this point. After the debacle of Freddie's arrest was solved, Ada had moved with Karl and Freddie to London, leaving Clara to man 'the Shelby's girl club' alone. The girl carefully watched as Pol joined Ada and Tommy, she threw her cigarette down, stamping it out before plucking Finn's out of his mouth and doing the same.

"Hey!" Finn complained, rolling his eyes as the girl shrugged and walked towards the road where all of the cars had been parked.

"Shut up," Clara dismissed, tucking her icy hands into her pocket. They watched as a man pulled up in a motorcycle gesturing at Arthur to come to talk. Finn and Clara could hear her eldest brother swear loudly before storming towards Tommy. Rain had begun to fall, dousing the two Shelby's with water.

"Wonder what he's mad about," Finn spoke, as their eyes trailed after the furious man.

"Could be anything at this rate," Clara scoffed, but her eyebrows furrowed as Tommy and Pol hurriedly ran off towards the car, speeding off. "Fucks sake..." she strode towards where Arthur had been left standing, steam was practically pooling from his ears.

Arthur barely acknowledged the two as they stopped beside him. Clara scrunched her nose up, "Where are they gone?" She questioned, looking at her oldest brother.

"The Garrison's been blown up," Arthur fumed. Clara and Finn glanced at one another in surprise before the girl shook her head.

"Do you know who did it?" Finn asked, causing the man to roll her eyes.

"If I did, I wouldn't be bloody standing here."

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IT HAD BEEN A FEW HOURS SINCE THE funeral and Clara Shelby sat in the midst of the gambling den, counting the coins as they were dropped in front of her. She had been caught reading in the living room by John and was swiftly pulled from the house and dumped into the shop to help out. The den was booming, people all around her were calling out odds while others were handing over their money. The girl sped through the counting, her mind quickly scanning over each coin before sliding them across to Scudboat who in turn would record it on the typewriter and scribble it down on the book.

Her fingers grabbed a handful of coins at a time as she skimmed over the log before announcing a number, letting Scudboat deal with the writing out.

"Go get the next bag from John's office, will ya?" The man questioned, scribbling out the values. Clara nodded silently, standing to her feet and manoeuvring around the dozens of people. The girl slipped into John's office, watching as Finn picked up the ringing phone from the desk. Clara grabbed a bag of money from the desk, watching as Finn's face scrunched up. He held the phone out to the girl in front of him, mouthing Tommy's name.

Clara raised her brow, gesturing for Finn to take the bag to Scudboat. She took the phone from his hands, holding it against her ear. "What?" She asked almost bored, sitting back against the desk.

"Clara, where's John?" Her brother's voice boomed through the phone.

"Think he's out in the den, why?"

"Tell him there's a family meeting at five, and find Arthur and tell him as well." Tommy ordered, "Family meeting at five, got it? That includes you and Finn."

"How considerate," Clara scorned.

"Clara—"

"Yeah, meeting at five, I'll get Arthur and John." And with that, Clara placed the phone back on the receiver. She huffed before pushing herself off John's desk and back into the den.

"Finn, c'mon, go grab a coat, we've to try track down Arthur." Clara huffed, hitting her brother's arm as she passed him. She weaved through the den, making her way towards John as he scrawled new odds on the chalkboard. "Tommy's called a family meeting, wants us all here at five."

John sniffed, turning around to face the girl. "Since when?" He questioned, his jaw clenching.

"Since a minute ago when he called," Clara shrugged nonchalantly, picking up her jacket from the coat rack. "And Finn and I have to go find Arthur."

Finn reappeared dressed in his coat and hat, waiting behind the girl. Clara nodded at her older brother before turning her back and opening the door. Stepping out onto Watery Lane, the girl immediately withdrew two cigarettes from her pocket, silently handing one to Finn as they walked. Some people tipped their hats at the sight of their razor-edged peaky hats, while many just avoided their gaze.

Clara blew out a cloud of smoke, not that it made much difference to the smoggy air. The first stop would've been the Garrison had it not been blown up that morning. The two scoured Small Heath, checking the Marquis, The Guns and The Chain, yet they didn't harbour the eldest Shelby.

The sky had soon given way for the depths of darkness to take over as the sun faded. Clara and Finn entered a warehouse, one renowned for the gym set up inside. The two kept their heads high as they strode through the sparsely decorated and dark place, ignoring the wretched smell of stale sweat. Around them, punching bags were hung, along with a boxing ring set up in the middle. Clara internally sighed in relief as Arthur came into view, furiously skipping with a rope. Beside him, a man stood watch, reading the newspaper.

Arthur skipped with a fixed look in his eyes, not bothered to look at his siblings as they grew closer. Clara scanned him, observing the fresh cut on his cheek along and his rabid, unchanging rhythm.

"Arthur?" Finn spoke up, but the man ignored him.

"Tommy's called a family meeting," Clara stated, folding her arms in discontent. Arthur continued to skip, staring straight ahead. "For Christ's sake! Arthur!"

Finn rolled his eyes, glancing at Clara. Recently, the two had become accustomed to Arthur disappearing into himself like this. The girl checked her pocket watch, there were twenty-five minutes until the meeting and if they weren't back on time it'd be her fault.

"He just beat the shit out of an apprentice." The other man spoke up, causing the two youngest Shelby's to glance at one another again. "I had to take half the kid away in buckets."

Clara nodded, letting out a sharp exhale. Arthur had sped up, the rope whipping relentlessly against the concrete floor. "Arthur!" She snapped once more, pinching her nose.

Arthur let the rope fall in disdain, his chest rising and falling. "Two thousand." He gritted, staring down at his youngest siblings. He brushed past them, dunking his hands into a bowl of water before running them through his hair. The two watched tentatively as Arthur stalked back towards them before shaking his head and walking by them.

"Come on." He grumbled.

Clara and Finn exchanged a look before following after their brother.

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CLARA STOOD IN THE CORNER OF THE DEN, her eyes on the floor as Finn's boots clattered against the wood. He was pacing, the noise bouncing off of the walls. Arthur sat at the head of the table, while Esme had taken up residency on the stairs and as John and Polly stood by the door. Charlie and Curly stood off to the side, smoking.

"Sit down, Finn." Arthur huffed, his frustration and annoyance seeping through his words. Finn looked down and pulled out a seat, but just as he went to sit down, Clara slid into it with a smirk.

"Better luck next time," she quietly mocked, grinning as she slyly raised her middle finger earning an eye roll from Finn as he pulled out the seat next to hers. It was unnervingly quiet as they waited for Tommy. Clara's fingers drummed against her folded arms, her eyes staring blankly ahead of her.

"Where the bloody hell is Tommy?" John spoke up.

"He's on his way." Polly snidely replied, her tone clipped as she stared ahead.

"All right then, while we're waiting patiently... Whiskey." Arthur announced, standing up from his seat, grabbing a crate from beneath the stairs and placing it on the table. "Leftover from the explosion. It's good stuff, as well." Everyone gathered around the table, pouring themselves a glass. Clara stole the bottle from Finn after he'd finished and poured the alcohol into a glass. She swirled it around, before taking a gulp.

"Right." John sniffed, his arms folding behind his back as he stood in front of everyone. "Before Tommy gets here, I think there's a few things we need to get straight between the rest of us."

"You think?" Pol asked.

"Didn't realise he was capable of that," Clara muttered, earning a small, stifled chuckle from Finn.

"Yeah," John answered Polly. "Yeah, I do. I want to know...When did we all take a vote on this expansion south?" At his words, Pol spun on her heel and dangerously stepped closer to the group. Clara raised her eyebrows at the woman's sharp self, before taking another drink.

"You have anything to say, you wait for Thomas," Polly advised.

"Polly's fuckin' right." Arthur agreed.

"I see all the books. Legal and off track. Sort of stuff you don't see. And in the past year, the Shelby Company Limited has been making a hundred and fifty pounds a day." John paused, his eyes flitting around. "Right? A fucking day! Sometimes more. So what I want to know is, why are we changing things?"

John turned his attention to their aunt. "Polly, look what's happened already." He said, "We haven't even set foot in London yet and they've already blown up our fucking pub."

"Who said anything about cockneys?" Arthur scoffed.

"Who else?" Esme suddenly interrupted from her place on the stairs.

"You know who did it, do you?" Polly questioned sarcastically.

"No, she doesn't know who did it." John started before they were interrupted. Tommy appeared from behind the wall, his eyebrows raised.

"I'm told only family are allowed to speak," Esme answered, her eyes still on her book, unaware of Tommy's presence.

"Everyone's allowed to speak." Tommy dismissed, causing Esme's head to shoot up. "On your feet, Esme, let's hear what you have to say."

"I speak for our household," John stated.

"John, this company is a modern enterprise and believes in equal rights for women." Tommy monotonously cut in. At this, Clara bit back a wave of spiteful laughter. "On your feet, Esme."

She could see Esme glance cautiously at John before standing up. "I'm not a blood member of this family but perhaps, indeed, because I'm not a member I can see things in a different light. So I'll get to my point." She started.

"That would be nice," Polly commented, Clara took another swig of her drink as the tension rose tenfold.

"As my husband said, Shelby Company Limited is now very successful, but London...I have kin in Shepherd's Bush and Portobello. It's more like wars between armies down there. And the coppers fight side-by-side with them. And there are foreigners of every description and the use of bombs is the least of it."

Esme took a breath in.

"I have a child, blessed with the Shelby family's good looks. I want John to see him grow up." The woman continued. "I want us to someday live somewhere with fresh air and trees and keep chickens or something."

Clara let out a soft sigh, knowing she'd lost the group gathered at the word 'chickens'. An ounce of her felt bad for the woman, she knew that Penny probably would've agreed with Esme, however, the Shelby girl wasn't too sure. She shook the thoughts from her head, tuning back into Esme's speech.

"But London is just smoke and trouble, Thomas."

"Thomas?" Pol mused to no one in particular.

"That's all I have to say." Esme finished, sitting back down on the stairs.

"That was a lot of words...a lot of words." Arthur nodded, reaching to grab a drink from the table before leaning back and handing it to Tommy. "Wash them down with a nice drink."

"Thank you, Esme." Tommy stoutly said, gulping down the whiskey before placing it back down on the table. "Firstly, the bang in the pub had nothing to do with London. Understood? The bang is something I'm dealing with on my own. Secondly, we've nothing to fear from the proposed business expansion so long as we stick together. And after the first few weeks, nine-tenths of what we do in London will be legal. The other tenth is in good hands. Isn't that right, Arthur?"

"That's right."

"Now, some of you in this room have expressed your reservations." Tommy looked around, his eyes scanning the members of the family. "Fair enough. Any of you who want no part in the future of this company, walk out the door..." he pushed and Clara looked up at John who was holding his head high in the air. "Right now...Go raise your chickens. For those of you with ambition, the expansion process begins tomorrow."

And with that, Tommy stole another drink from the table and waltzed out. Clara watched as he disappeared further into the den. The family only lingered a minute longer before people dispersed, leaving only Finn and Clara at the table. The girl reached out and stole another whiskey bottle, pouring herself another glass.

"Well that went well," she scoffed, tossing back the rest of her drink.

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WOOHOOO, HELLO MY BEAUTIFUL READERS!

WELCOME TO THE FIRST CHAPTER IN ACT TWO! How did you find it??

Anyways, how is your Friday going? If it's not going the best, I hope things will start to look up soon enough— they always do!

DON'T FORGET THAT I LOVE YOU ALL AND I'LL SEE YOU NEXT WEEK!!