Chapter Text
Nancy was determined not to let the glances get to her. Internally, she was squirming and screaming at all the eyes on her. But she straightened her spine and made her way down the markets and into the barbers. ‘Morning, Kenny.’
‘Morning, Nance,’ a voice called from the back, and Kenny stepped into the main room, carrying the folding sign for outside. ‘Bloody hell. What happened?’
‘Had a fight with the tub,’ she said easily, waving him off. She glanced sideways to one of the mirrors, checking her reflection, checking her story. A burst lip and a big purpling bruise up the side of her jaw and cheek. It was believable enough.
‘Hope you’ve had a drink,’ the old barber said, chuckling a little as he passed her with the sign. He set it up outside, then came back to her, holding her chin, twisting her head to tilt to the light, wincing. ‘Bloody Nora, Nancy. You’ve done a right number there.’
‘I know – silly me,’ she said with a singsong laugh, moving away from him and hanging up her coat.
She’d worked for Kenny for a few months, cleaning up for him, doing his books. His brother sent his books over too, Keith, from the tailors. Between the pair of them, she earned a good wage. She’d go over to the tailors on Saturdays, Mondays and Wednesdays, helping with sewing and cleaning up. The only day spare was a Sunday, which she’d spend out at church, then cooking for the family. Less time at home the better.
Kenny sang to himself as he prepped for the morning, and she slid into a seat behind the desk, just behind the front door. It was all dark wood and red paint at Kenny’s, trinkets he’d collected, art his mother had painted. Cosy – to her, at least. She preferred the barbers to the tailors.
Here, she could sit about her day, doing the numbers at her leisurely pace, getting up to sweep after a customer had been in, going out to get her and Kenny lunch. Leisurely.
‘Bloody hell, Nancy,’ she heard, just after the bell had rang, looking up to see James, another one of the older gentlemen.
‘She’s fine, she’s fine,’ Kenny assured, knowing she wouldn’t want the fuss. He pulled James over to his chair, and they began their men’s chatter, much forgetting she was there.
She liked that too about the barbers. The men talked like men. She got to see into a world no other woman witnessed. At home, with her brother and sister-in-law, their boys, she was just a helping hand. Daniel was rarely home, except for meal times, so if she were at home it was with Rosie, who was kind enough. But she was set on not needing help in the home, not anymore.
‘They’re my kids – he’s my husband,’ she’d say with firmness. Nancy had moved in during the war, and Rosie had needed the help then. But she was determined that she didn’t need it now. Now they were a perfect family. Now Nancy was just an add on – an extra mouth to feed. A burden.
So, she worked. And treated the family when she could, though Daniel brought in enough to support them, doing whatever he did.
She made it her most important rule – to keep her eyes and her ears to herself. It was the best way to stay cheery, to stay positive.
‘Give it to Nance, she’ll put it through for you.’
Nancy looked up from her work, grinning at the man, who handed over his cash and gave her a nod. Mr Parkins, she knew. She hadn’t realised how much time had passed, her writing away, trying to ignore the dull ache up the side of her face.
She slipped off the chair, working her jaw. ‘Shall I do us a tea?’
Kenny was sweeping, humming again, but nodded. The man lived off tea and biscuits. Never married, lived in the spare bedroom in his brothers house, with him and his wife. Perhaps that’s why they got along so well, they were kindred spirits.
She hummed along quietly with him, stepping into the back room and setting up for making tea. There was a whole flat upstairs, empty. He rented it out usually, but as of late there hadn’t been anyone coming and going, and when she’d asked he said the young couple had moved out, but not that anyone else had moved in.
Wiping her hands, she stepped back into the room, stretching and raising her arms above her head.
‘Needn’t bother trying to get any taller, lassie. Didn’t work for me!’
Nancy rolled her eyes. ‘I’ve a few more years growing to do yet, Kenny. I’ll be taller than you one day.’
‘And you’ll have the sack,’ he declared with a smirk.
She chuckled, moving back into the back room and fixing their tea. As she was stirring, she heard the bell go, and Kenny’s singing stopped.
‘Mr Shelby, good morning.’
‘Morning, Kenneth. Here for a trim,’ a low voice replied.
‘Of course. Nancy?’
She was already moving through, wiping her hands on the back of her dress. She knew, of course, who the Shelby’s were. Thomas Shelby, she knew, usually came in on a Monday, when she wasn’t in. Same time every week. She saw his name in the book. His brothers came on Saturdays. She’d not had to deal with any of them before, besides the oldest. Once. He’d come in on a Thursday, and had been boisterous, but kind. Tipped her a few coins, just for being there.
‘Nancy’ll hang your coat,’ Kenny continued, glancing at her a little, but smiling, calmly. His eyes told her not to worry.
But Thomas Shelby was gazing down at her, with those empty blue eyes, and her throat went dry. But she held out her hands, forcing a small smile, though her teeth clenched.
Thomas handed over his belongings, but not before folding his hat in two and putting it in the jacket pocket, giving her a light nod in thanks. He sniffed, then moved to his seat, as Nancy hung his jacket and retreated to the back room, finishing Kenny’s tea as fast as she could.
She’d offer him one. And if he wanted one, he could have hers. She hadn’t heated enough water for more. She’d make do till he left.
Carrying it with both hands, she delivered Kenny’s cup and saucer to the shelf on the wall, two biscuits on the plate.
Kenny was tying the cloak at the back of the man’s neck, moving to get a fresh dish of water. Far enough that she was effectively alone with him, despite Kenny having not left the room.
‘Can I get you a drink, Mr Shelby – tea?’
‘No,’ he said, soft but brutal all at once, then glanced away from watching out the windows and to her, eyes flitting around her face. ‘Thank you.’
Secretly pleased, she gave a smile and moved away again, collecting her own drink and swiftly retreating back behind the desk, which gave her little respite, as she could see his face in the reflection of the mirror. Twice she glanced up, at the man, so threatening, so feared, but so silent and slight – in his own way.
‘Missed you yesterday, Mr Shelby.’
Thomas sighed, lips parting, eyes rolling a little. ‘Always busy nowadays, Kenneth. Barely knew what day it was. You’ve my apologies.’
Kenny was chuckling, shaking his head. One thing she liked was that he was always overly kind, always grinning. All this simpering wasn’t just because it was Thomas Shelby, it’s just who Kenny was.
‘Not a worry, Mr Shelby. I was only afraid you’d found someone else – that Jonas down the lane.’
‘Not at all, Ken. Takes much for a man to trust a barber,’ he said, then his eyes flicked to Nancy’s reflection, squinting one eye a little as her hand scribbled feverishly on the papers in front of her. ‘Didn’t know you had taken on a worker.’
Kenny took a second to realise who he meant. ‘Oh, Nance has been with me a while – works for Keith too. Alternates days. Funny you’ve always missed her. She works the books, keeps me in tea, helps clean up. She’s a good girl, our Nancy.’
Thomas didn’t reply to that, but did notice the way her cheeks turned a dark red, her head still turned down, her writing paused.
She did nothing, for the next twenty minutes. Only sat, staring at the pages, not looking away from them for a single glance. Then, when Kenny lifted the cloak, she slipped off her chair and got the mans coat. She knew what they said about the Shelby’s, about their caps, but in that moment, it didn’t occur to her. She took his hat from his pocket, letting it take shape again, and met him at the desk, holding it out to him.
Tommy looked down into the round, innocent eyes, the dark purple across her face, and rose a brow, taking the hat from her, and his coat, slipping back into them and his persona with ease.
‘No charge, Nance,’ Kenny called from the back room where he was getting the brush from.
But Thomas Shelby’s expression changed minutely, from the blank expression he usually wore, and he left six coins on the desk, in two stacks. ‘One for him, one for you.’
‘Thank you, Mr Shelby,’ she said, feeling stupid that it came out breathless and wavering.
He nodded, looking over her face once more, before he left.
When the door closed, she gripped the desk, blowing out a shaky breath. Kenny was chuckling at her.
‘He’s a reasonable man, Nancy. From a distance. You just keep sweet and you’ll never have any trouble.’
She stretched a smile. ‘He paid, you know – us both.’
‘Aye, always does. You get yours in your pocket – don’t be adding it to the box with the rest.’
She grinned, doing just that, deciding she’d get him a special treat when she went out for their lunches.
__________
The next time she’d see Thomas Shelby, would be outside of The Garrison, a few days later, on her way home from work.
There was a small commotion, the doors bursting open, voices calling. She barely looked up, only veered closer to the other side of the street. She wasn’t stupid. It was none of her business what men got up to on the drink. Nor did she want to draw any attention.
But then she heard his voice.
‘They’re gonna kill me! They’re gonna kill me!’
Nancy looked up, seeing her brother thrust to the ground by Thomas and another man.
Daniel was still shouting, and Thomas was shouting too, over and over again, right in his ear. ‘You’re home, Danny! We’re all in England! All of us!’
Freddie Thorne looked up, as Nancy came, falling to her brothers side, barking at Tommy, ‘Get off him! Get off him! He’s fine!’
Tommy ignored her, even her little hands shoving at him. He’d wonder later how she had the guts, a tiny little thing like that. But she loved fiercely, that he could tell.
‘Nancy! Oh Nancy!’ Danny wailed, and Tommy let up, pulling the man with him, panting. Danny was twice the width of him, and a good few heads taller. He wiped a slick of sweat from his brow, stepping back as Danny moved to the girl from the barbers, cupping her bruised cheek.
Then he looked back to Tommy, the other men, lining the street.
‘I did it again, didn’t I, Tommy?’
‘You did,’ Tommy said, nodding, taking a breath. ‘You did, Danny.’
Nancy ignored the look Tommy gave her, pulling her brothers face around to look back at her, not at all those watching. ‘Come on, Daniel. Walk me home.’
He was nodding, whimpering a little, ringing his cap in his hands.
She sent anyone looking a glare, and wrapped her brothers arm around hers, letting him look the leader, the carer.
Tommy, all at once, realised where the little girl might have gotten her bruises. He looked at Freddie, who was panting too, shaking his head a little. Then he looked around the street, at all the eyes on them. ‘Go about your days!’
The people scattered, men filing back into the pub, women pushing nosey children away.
__________
Nancy stood outside the house on Watery Lane the very next morning, frowning at the door. There was a horseshoe nailed to it, for luck, she guessed. Anything but a coward, she stepped forward, raising her hand and knocking twice.
There was a little shouting, raised voices from inside, then a woman opened the door. It was Polly Grey, she knew. Polly knew who everyone was in the area, and she didn’t doubt she knew who she was. Yet she said, ‘Good morning, I’m Nancy Owen.’
‘Good morning, Nancy Owen. Do you know it’s the crack of dawn?’
Thundering on the stairs behind her made Polly smirk.
‘It’s been cracked a while,’ Tommy said behind her, only in his shirt and trousers, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. His face appeared behind Polly’s. ‘You best be coming in, Nancy Owen. Pol will put the tea on.’
‘Oh, she will, will she?’ Polly replied, but moved back through the house to do it anyways.
‘I’m alright for tea, thank you. I’ve got to get to the tailors. I just wanted to stop in on my way,’ she said as they reached the kitchen. She’d barely even looked around, and if she had, she wouldn’t have seen much. The house was dark, not yet woken up to the day. There was a lot of brass and flowers around, that much she knew.
Polly gave her a soft smile, and slipped from the room, Tommy having already sat at the table, lighting a cigarette. ‘Smoke?’ he offered, and gestured for her to sit too, but she stayed standing, pressing her lips together, the cut now an ugly scab on her lip, her bruising faded but still purple. Tommy surveyed her a little, smoking, waiting for her to speak.
‘I’m here to apologise, for being brash yesterday. I lost myself a bit, it was a surprise seeing him – well, like that. Outside. With everyone around. You were helpful, really helpful. I’m glad he had you there for him,’ she said, then swallowed, following the movement as he tapped his ash into the dish on the table. ‘He doesn’t come out of it so easy most times.’
Tommy nodded to her cheek. ‘And that’s why you look like you’ve been in the boxing ring then, is it?’
‘Mr Shelby –‘ she started stuttering. ‘He’s a good man. Rosie locks the kids away. They’ve never seen him that way. I can’t leave him when it happens. It’s not so often, it’s really not.’
He settled back in his seat, brows flicking up a moment, gazing at her plait, rather than her. ‘He’s a great man.’
She relaxed a little.
‘How is it you’re living with Danny and Rosie?’
Licking her lips, she answered obediently, ‘Our mam died when I was a baby. Dan married Rosie, it was just me and dad. Then the war. So, I moved in to help Rosie with the kids. Dad didn’t come home, Dan did.’
‘Your dad’s house?’
‘Sold it.’
‘Why not live it in yourself?’ he pressed.
She furrowed her brow at him a little, shaking her head. ‘I was only sixteen, Mr Shelby. Just eighteen now.’
‘Ah.’
He’d thought her older. For some reason. Which felt stupid to him now, looking at her. ‘Danny never mentioned a sister.’
‘He doesn’t want me near any of it – not that I know anything about it. He doesn’t talk about his business with you at home. Must keep it the same way with you, for me.’
Tommy nodded, taking a deep drag on his cigarette.
‘Anyways. That’s my piece. I just wanted to apologise, and thank you. I’ll be off now, Mr Shelby. Sorry for disturbing your morning.’
Tommy rose, following her as she began to move her way towards the front door. ‘Nancy-’
She turned, like he’d given an order, waiting for him to speak.
‘You just get in touch with me, if you need any help with Danny, yeah? Let me know if he gets any worse. Try stay out of his way,’ he spoke low, knowing Polly was likely slinking around somewhere nearby.
Nancy shook her head. ‘I can’t just leave him alone when he’s like that. It’s the nights, that’s the worst.’
‘Aye, I can imagine it is,’ he murmured, looking over her damaged face with a heavy look. ‘Just remind him where he is. Don’t try hold him. You just shout it as loud as you can. Yeah? No touching him - no holding on.’
She nodded, eyes a little blurry. ‘Thank you, Mr Shelby.’
‘Take care, Nancy,’ he said, opening the door for her and watching her go, sighing once she had.
‘Well. That was an interesting visit,’ Polly spoke from the dark of the room, smoking in the back corner.
‘Danny Whizz-Bang’s baby sister,’ he said, running a hand through his hair.
Polly frowned knowingly. ‘Poor little thing.’
‘She’ll be fine,’ he murmured, though he gazed at the floor a moment, imagining what Danny must be like in a closed space, the girl cowering from him. It was terrifying enough in a half empty pub, let alone a living room. ‘She’ll be right.’
‘I’ll check in on her at the barbers,’ Polly spoke, mostly to herself, giving a nod, looking up to Tommy’s confused stare. ‘What, Thomas?’
‘How do you know she works at the fucking barbers?’
‘Your brother has two boys, and I’ve got Finn, all which I have to wrangle to the barber at least every so often so that they don’t look like little street urchins. Honestly, while you’re in the mood for sit down conversations, have one with bloody John.’
Tommy let out a great big sigh, rubbing his eyes, moving back through to the kitchen.