- CHAPTER SIX -

- IN WHICH THE LEES PAY THEM A VISIT

. . .

HER ALCOHOL INDUCED headache soon wilted away during the afternoon, especially after she'd taken a nap with Sadie wrapped beneath her duvet cover.

Then the rest of the day, and the next following that were spent through hard work, settling into her new life at Small Heath. Rory had written down so many bets that she was beginning to picture the chalkboard every time she closed her eyes, counted so much money her brain was beginning to hurt and poured so much whiskey between her hours off that her clothes were beginning to smell of the drunken aroma.

Luckily, Thomas had allowed her to begin work on the following Thursday later in the morning, due to John's announcement that would take place whilst Scudboat kept an eye on the betting den.

So Rory had managed to get an extra hour of sleep, waking up peacefully for the first time since she'd been living above The Garrison.

"You're up late," Harry observed when she appeared at the bottom of the staircase, fingers plaiting a strand of hair as she looked over to the man. "I would've sent Grace to wake you but I assumed Tom was letting you have the morning off, given that he's in there." He gestured to the Shelby private room.

Rory gazed over to the room, frowning. Then shook her head and the dazed smile was back on her lips. "Here." She picked up a few plates and glasses from the empty table beside her. "I'll help you both until their meeting's done."

"You don't have to.." Harry placed the rag he'd been using to clean the bar counter on the shelf below it. "Thomas would have my head if I let you do that."

Rory's smile only grew wider when she carried the glasses over, pouring the remanence of some beer down the sink and then proceeding to wash it. "Ah.. I'm sure he won't mind, besides, he told me I could start later so it's not really much of his business." As she stepped back, the pub doors swung open and Finn appeared.

Panting and spluttering, he ran around the counter to where she stood and grabbed onto her hand, dragging her towards the door beside the bar and ignoring her desperate pleas to tell her what was wrong.

She peered over her shoulder at Harry who only shrugged before turning back to hear the door unlatch and for Finn to push it open. "Tommy, we've been done over!" He was still panting, holding onto the Miller girl's hand as support to stop himself from collapsing and it soon became apparent he'd ran there all the way from the den.

"What?" Arthur asked, suddenly sitting forward from where his back had been leant against the chair and his arm resting on the top of it.

John and Thomas looked over from where they were stood up beside each other, and Polly looked over his head at the girl stood behind him. She seemed none the wiser on what he was going on about.

In a sudden start, Thomas was pushing past John and out of the door, following Finn who'd already begun sprinting out of the pub with Rory still in his firm clasp. But the youngest Shelby wasn't quite as fit as the others, and they all overtook him and the Miller girl rather quickly.

"Finn, get on my back." She stopped, crouching down to the boy's height in order to get him to jump on her before she continued sprinting down the road, ignoring the cars that were honking at them and dodging the random objects that managed to get in their way.

And then once they were near the Shelby Parlour, Thomas already pushing through the Betting Den door, Rory let the boy off her back, sending him to find someone like Charlie and Curly whilst they fixed the mess that had been made.

. . .

The betting den truly was in the worst condition Rory had ever seen it in when she finally appeared. Tables and chairs had been flipped over, shards of wood littering the floor. Anything light had been knocked off and over desks, individual offices been rummaged through and almost everything had been damaged.

Scudboat was sat at the only desk that hadn't been flipped over, head held in his hands to stop the bleeding of a cut and Arthur was pouring him a belated glass of whiskey. John was stood in one of the offices, rummaging through a set of papers and Thomas was in the back.

Rory slipped passed a table, dark gaze running across the floor which had been covered in absolutely anything that was stocked in that part of the building, head twisting to see John kicking thin air. She smiled sympathetically at him, not that he was really paying attention anyway - too busy checking the drawers.

"What the bloody hell happened here?" Arthur asked as the Miller girl pulled out a tin box on top of one of the shelves, pulling it open to find a couple of plasters and patches.

"The Lees, all of them," Scudboat replied solemnly, letting the dark-haired girl attend to his cut as he continued. "Cousins, nephews, even their bastards."

"They've taken anything they can lay their hands on." Polly called, entering the room and taking over the task of cleaning Scudboat's cut whilst Rory helped to salvage any parts of the den that she could. "Four cash boxes."

Thomas didn't seem to be listening, and when she looked up, the Miller girl realised why. A sinking feeling gnawing away at her stomach as she watched him play with a pair of iron wire cutters. "They left these."

"Wire cutters. Why would they leave that?" Polly asked, looking around confusedly at everyone.

"Nobody move." Arthur instructed, Rory beginning to bunch her hands into fists as her nails dug into her palms. She glanced over to John, almost observing him before she looked back over to Thomas.

"I think our friends are playing the game." Thomas didn't even seem the slightest bit worried, blue eyes following everyone's expressions but not showing a single hint of worry behind them.

"What game?" Polly asked, beginning to move across the room again to place the tin box back on the shelf.

"Aunt Pol don't." John put his arm out, stopping her from entering the office she was about to go in. "Don't touch anything."

"Erasmus Lee was in France." Thomas began nodding his head, almost in realisation, as if he'd just figured out the last part of a puzzle.

"Shit." Scudboat stood up with the support of Arthur, streams of blood still running down his face, top, arms and hands as he began to look around.

"Whenever we gave up ground to the Germans, we'd leave behind boobytraps, set up with wires." He paused to look over to Polly. "We'd leave wire cutters as part of the joke."

"Somewhere in here there's a hand grenade." John huffed out slowly, looking around the den as if, if he moved too quickly then it would go off just there and then.

"Holy Jesus."

Rory shook her head, an absentminded sparkle in her ebony eyes as almost everyone stood like a statue, other than their heads that were constantly moving around, searching for any sign of the grenade.

She stepped forwards, missing the hand that brushed against her arm and began to let the tips of her fingers run across the shelves.

"Are you fucking mental." Arthur asked, looking over to John and expecting to see the same concerned expression. Only he didn't look worried at all. Amused and rather curious actually. "Attached to a wire. Don't move any chairs or open any doors."

John and him began to slowly walk around, the younger Shelby following Rory rather than his brother. "Go easy, John boy, go easy." Arthur warned him, watching the girl wearily.

She kicked one of the chairs with her shoe. "The grenade isn't in here." She said, dreamy eyes looking up at Thomas's. "Billy and I used to plant them all the time. Apart from we always did it where it was the least bit expected." She laughed bitterly, straightening a desk. "Scud would've seen it be planted. It's somewhere personal to you, Tommy. Perhaps a pub, the yard?"

"He set it up just for me." Thomas nodded in realisation, piecing together what the Miller girl was saying.

And then, before they could say anything else, he was bolting up the stairs and the door soon slamming loudly behind him.

Perhaps she was right in saying it was planted somewhere the least bit expected, she mainly just hoped he found it before an innocent bystander would.

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