Jonah Shelby

16

The gaslight in The Garrison cast long shadows, colouring the lively scene in shades of amber and gloom. Arthur Shelby, a bit tipsy, was happily sharing a tale with a group of his mates and Tommy, sitting on a stool by the bar, kept a watchful gaze over his territory, a cigarette slowly burning between his fingers. Jonah Shelby, was sat in his usual corner booth, a glass of amber liquid untouched before him, a hand-rolled cigarette smouldering between two long fingers. His sharp grey eyes, cool as winter ice, swept across the room, noticing every detail. A flicker of worry in a gambler’s eyes, a secret exchange between two bookies, and the unusual sight of you, a quiet female on the arm of a rival partner, entering the pub.