Heathens Peaky Blinders

This programme contains strong language and some violent scenes from the start.

-Tommy, you've never even seen their kids.

-I'm staying with Polly.

-She's in a bad way.

-I'll get through to her.

The union convenor causing all the trouble, her name's Jessie Eden.

I will conduct myself as a businessman...

Who says "sweetheart"?

Today, everyone in the family received one of these.

Changretta knows where we all live.

We need to be together at a place even they won't dare to come.

You mean back home?

This is the New York Mafia we're talking about.

And we're the Peaky Blinders.

We're not the Peaky Blinders unless we're together.

-And what's the purpose of your visit?

-Pleasure.

WHISTLE BLOWS

# I began to warm and chill

# To objects and their fields

# A ragged cup

# A twisted mop

# The face of Jesus in my soup

# Those sinister dinner deals

# The meal trolley's wicked wheels

# And the mercy seat is waiting

# And I think my head is burning

# In a way, I'm yearning to be done

# With all this weighing up the truth

# An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth

# And anyway I told the truth

# And I'm not afraid to die

# And the mercy seat is burning

# And I think my head is glowing

# In a way, I'm a-hoping to be done

# With all this weighing up the truth

# An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth

# And anyway I told the truth

# I'm afraid I told a lie. #

Please, can we get some help here?

Please? It's all right, Michael.

It's all right, Michael.

It's all right, Michael. You're going to be OK.

Don't leave us now. Just keep breathing.

MICHAEL BREATHES RAGGEDLY

No. No.

I don't want fucking kids in here. I want soldiers.

I don't want fucking kids who joined us for the sport.

All right. Get out. Go on. Go.

-I want men who served in here.

-All right, Pol.

God, please, don't take my son.

-Mrs Gray, please.

-Please, don't. God, don't take my son.

-Pol.

-Pol. Polly.

-He's in good hands.

-God, please, don't take my son.

Pol? Pol?

Damn, fuck those bastards responsible.

All right. Let them do their job, all right?

Let them do their job. I'll get soldiers.

I'll be back. I'll be back.

DOOR OPENS

Is it him?

Yeah.

On his own doorstep.

His own fucking doorstep.

All right, get out.

And you - out.

ARTHUR SNIFFS

Poor John.

Fucking John.

"In the bleak midwinter..."

I promised, Arthur.

No, I can't...

In the hole, we promised.

I can't look at him...

Come here, brother.

Come here.

Come on, come here.

-WHISPERS:

-Oh, man.

Now, say it.

Say it, brother.

"In the bleak midwinter..."

DOOR OPENS

-ESME:

-You're cursed, and I curse you again!

And again! And again!

-Esme...

-No!

Come on. Come here. Come on.

Leave me with him.

You've spoken to him.

Now it's my turn.

Arthur.

No peace for either of you...ever.

Our stuff will stay with me.

I'm taking the children on the road,

to live with decent people.

They'll never know the cursed side of this family.

We're done with them, John.

ESME'S FOOTSTEPS RECEDE

HE SIGHS

KNOCK ON DOOR

-FINN:

-Tommy, they're gathered.

FINN'S FOOTSTEPS RECEDE

John is dead.

Esme has gone on the road with the Lees.

She's taken the kids.

Michael is badly wounded.

They say it's 60-40 in his favour.

There's no number, there's no percentages.

There's only the hand.

The hand beneath him stops him falling.

I spoke to someone.

My son'll live.

Michael and John were shot because we killed someone.

Vicente Changretta.

His son, Luca, has come to take revenge.

Men from New York and Sicily here in Birmingham.

These men will not leave our city until our whole family is dead.

That's how it works - an eye for an eye.

It's called vendetta.

Yeah, well...

..the bullet's been written.

It says "LUCA".

When the time comes...

..and it will come...

..he, as the oldest brother...

I will put this bullet into his fucking head.

There's been some bad blood between us.

SHE SCOFFS

-POLLY LAUGHS ARTHUR:

-Polly, please.

Until this business is settled, we stay together...

..and we stay here.

Small Heath, Bordesley, Hay Mills, down to Greet.

We know every face and every man is a soldier in this army.

These men are professionals, they're good at what they do,

so we're going to need more than we have.

I've sent a message to Aberama Gold.

No.

No, Tom.

I'll get you 50 Lee boys. Good men, Tom.

I don't need good men, Johnny. For this, I need bad men.

Tommy, his people are fuckin' savages. You know? Heathens, Tom.

They don't even let them in the fair,

so they come and steal our horses.

You know, stealing from their own, Tom.

So this the plan, Thomas?

This is the plan?

A bullet with a name on it,

help from a bunch of savages?

We're going to go on the offensive.

I've spoken to Moss. SHE SCOFFS

-Moss!

-I've spoken to Moss.

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

Moss is putting out word...

..eyes and ears so we can find 'em.

HE SIGHS

Yet the truth is, the police are busy with the revolution.

Moss says they're expecting strikes

and riots when the weather gets warmer.

-The Bolsheviks are planning...

-The Bolsheviks couldn't plan a fucking picnic.

-He's reading the wrong papers.

-Ada!

Real or not real, the coppers don't give a fuck about us.

All right?

Which means...

..that here today, in this room,

we have to agree to end this war between us.

Take a vote.

Peace.

I was never a part of this, but...peace.

Peace.

Peace.

Peace.

Shut up, Finn.

Why can't I say "peace"?

Arthur, let him have his say.

Finn, sit at the table.

Little bastard.

They're sending us fucking kids, Sergeant Major...

..to do men's work.

My son's not here to speak...

..so I'll speak on behalf of us both.

Truce.

Five for peace, two for truce, one abstention.

Let's get on with the war.

Whoa!

Curly, here we are.

Here, catch.

HE LAUGHS

Right. Right, move them, boys.

Unload, unload!

Hat.

Blues and Villa goalkeeper?

Dan Tremelling plays in goal for the Blues,

and Tommy Jackson for the Villa.

Fair enough.

-Charlie?

-What is it, Curly?

We've run out of bullets, Charlie.

We need more ammunition!

More ammunition!

Johnny, more ammo.

CROWS CAW

We're like sitting ducks here, if the wops come.

Yeah, well, Tommy said we should do it in the open.

This is how John wanted to go.

On the smoke.

But the truth is,

we died together once before.

Arthur, me...

..Danny Whizz-Bang,

Freddie Thorne, Jeremiah, and John.

We were cut off from the retreat, no bullets left,

waiting for the Prussian cavalry

to come, and to finish us off.

And while we waited...

..Jeremiah said we should sing In The Bleak Midwinter.

But we were spared - the enemy never came.

And we all agreed...

..that everything after that was extra...

..and when our time came, we would all remember.

You remember that God spared you.

But what did you do with the extra time that He gave you, eh, Thomas?

BLADE PENETRATES FLESH

PANICKED SHOUTING

At ease. At ease.

Do not return fire!

I repeat - do not return fire!

Stand down.

The men doing the firing are on our side.

GUNSHOT RINGS OUT

I took the trouble

of getting an invitation to Aberama Gold.

Oh, fuck. Now it's begun.

You put us out in the open on purpose.

You used John's funeral fire as a fucking beacon.

-We were never in any danger, Polly.

-You set a trap.

Finn? Finn?!

Go to the yard and light the fires.

You set a trap with us as fucking bait.

Who's dead?

Our enemies.

-Who's dead?

-Want to know, Pol?

Two fucking local Italians heard about the vendetta,

tried to make a fucking names for themselves - that's who.

We got word to them about the funeral - the where, the when.

Told them where to stand for the best shot.

And Aberama Gold will do the rest.

That's the language of vendetta -

they take one of ours, we take two of theirs.

You used your own brother's funeral.

When did we vote on this, Tommy?

Curly, get a boat ready to take the bodies to the city,

and another boat for anyone...

..anyone who wants no more part of this.

Cos this is how it's going to be.

Polly!

I'm not staying for this, Arthur.

I'm going home.

Oh, yeah. Home's 57 Watery Lane. You go there...

..lock the doors, you wait for me.

-Key to number 57.

-I'm going home to the country.

You will stay here until it's over. Take the fucking key, Linda.

Look, away from here, you are a weakness to all of us.

They will take you hostage, and the baby.

They will use the baby.

Take it. Put the kettle on.

Wait for your husband.

The only way any of you Shelbys will leave this place

is on a cloud of smoke, like John.

Well, you're a Shelby now, too, Linda.

500 each, 1,000 for the brace.

Where do you want them?

Charlie, take them to the yard.

Not too far, not too deep, Curly.

We need the message to get through.

OK, Tom.

Finn, you go with him.

Go on. Go with him.

Oh, Tom? Tell Johnny to save me some goose, please.

FOOTSTEPS APPROACH

On your feet.

Wait outside.

Hello, Mum.

They said you'd be out cold.

No, don't move.

HE GRUNTS

The doctor said they'd sewn you up like a football.

What else did he say?

He said you took four bullets.

Only one was live.

One was a ricochet...

..two were already spent.

Two had passed through John.

The last thing I remember was his face.

I watched him go.

Where's Tommy?

Oh, don't worry about Tommy. Just get better.

Where is he?

Tommy's back.

We're all back.

The Garrison, Watery Lane, Charlie's.

I need a cigarette.

No.

I've made a decision.

-Give me a cigarette, Mum.

-It's not allowed.

It's not allowed?

-WHISPERS:

-I've decided we're going to get away.

-Yeah?

Just me and you.

Australia.

And I've been to the Cunard office and I got a magazine.

HE GROANS

America's no good, because that's where they are,

but there's no Italians in Australia.

I think there are, Mum.

Bad ones, I mean.

Have you stopped taking those prison tablets?

-Don't you worry about me.

-I do.

Just you get better.

The doctor says it'll be five weeks.

Then, you'll be up and walking.

Now, there's a boat that leaves on February the 13th.

Tell Tommy I need to see him.

Tell him to bring a gun small enough to fit in the chamber pot,

-in case they come back.

-No, I've banned Tommy from coming.

Are the factories going back to work tomorrow?

Just forget the fucking factories.

Is there any word of them going out on strike?

We're going to Australia. It'll just be you, me, and your sister.

Cos I've found out where she's buried -

it's somewhere outside Melbourne.

Listen, Mum.

I'm going to get better slowly...

..but you need to get better fast.

Without you, he falls apart, and without him...

Without him, they'll take us all.

You've got to get us through this.

Then, I promise...

..I'll board that train with you and we'll go to Australia.

I like your yard, Mr Strong.

How much would you take for it?

It's not for sale.

Not for sale?

OK.

CHAINS CLATTER

I just took a look round.

I like this place.

HE LAUGHS

Fire for melting silver,

canal to get it away.

How much?

Nothing you see is for sale, Mr Gold.

Oh, everything is for sale.

Everything.

You tell Mr Strong I'm going to buy his yard.

This yard has been in his family since they settled.

But I have decided to make it part of our deal.

Charlie?

Charlie, come here.

We're going to spin a coin for your yard, Charlie.

You're going to what?

If it's heads,

Abby here takes all of this...with my blessing.

Tommy.

And if it's tails...

..I fuck your daughter, Mr Gold.

WHEEZING LAUGHTER

You have three daughters, I hear...

..and Esmeralda is the eldest, and also the prettiest,

so I'll have her.

So make her part of the deal and spin her against the yard.

Tommy, for fuck sake.

Here, toss the coin, Mr Gold.

No.

Please don't believe this is a joke.

The coin to us is sacred. Yes, Arthur?

Sacred.

If you toss that coin, you take a bet before witnesses.

And if I win...

Then, we'll insist that the terms of this agreement,

the wager, are fulfilled.

Toss the coin, Mr Gold.

Tommy Shelby OBE...

..no wager today.

But with this penny, I will buy a flower to put on your grave...

..when the time comes.

And before that time,

please don't again disrespect my friends or their valued property.

We missed Christmas - let's have it now.

Peace on earth, good will to all men.

Rum, Curly.

Toast to my brother, John. Raise your glasses, all of you.

Raise 'em up, all of you.

-John Shelby.

-ALL:

-Cheers.

I got wire, I got chains, I got steel rods - now what?

Right, put the steel rods up the geese's arse there,

and then you put those steel rods above the fire,

spinning the rod to stop the bird from burning.

-ALL:

-Cheers.

-Cheers, lads.

You did get potatoes, Charlie?

No, I didn't get fucking potatoes. What's the matter with you?

I don't want that bastard, Aberama Gold, putting

it around that we live like didicois.

I want him to see that we live proper, that we eat proper,

in the proper way.

What the fuck are you talking about?

I'll get the potatoes meself.

Never thought my high-fucking-heels from Paris would be stepping

through the horse shit of Small Heath ever again.

Temporary, Polly.

Yeah, until hell freezes over.

How's Michael?

You said eight men from New York, seven from Sicily,

at £500 each.

Of course, you can afford it.

Most, we'll do ourselves.

How many of your factories are in the safe territories?

70%.

Shelby Company Ltd will continue to manufacture.

Lizzie says it's only whores these days.

Yeah.

Have them smuggled in, I suppose?

I need you back, Polly.

Paying whores for sex, paying killers to kill...

Yeah - nothing for nothing.

Poor Thomas.

You know, our mother went this way -

spirits and ghosts, tablets,

fucking...fucking seances scaring us kids halfway to fucking death.

Yeah, well, I'm not going that way.

Cos in the smoke, I realised something.

I'm just like you now,

you and Arthur.

I was dead in that noose, and then I was saved.

So everything from now on is extra.

But what I didn't understand until today...

..is when you're dead already...

..you're free.

Fucking love it.

I'll help you, cos Michael wants me to help you.

Starting now.

Get your whores vetted by Lizzie - they'll use your weakness.

Don't take any new men on in the factories unless you know their families.

And your new friend,

Mr Aberama Gold...

..he wants something other than just money.

I see things in the air around people -

it's not just the tablets.

It's real.

Ask him what he really wants.

She's a fine beast, this one.

Nothing you see is for sale, Mr Shelby.

Your grandfather camped with mine for a while.

Yeah. That didn't last.

No, it ended badly...

..in a pub called the Wenlock.

We were owed money. Still are.

Other than money and a scrapyard that's clearly not for sale...

..what is it that you want from me, Mr Gold?

How do you know I want anything from you?

Well, because my company treasurer

is a certified accountant,

and also, apparently, a witch.

You're a sporting man...

Yes, I am.

..and a gambling man.

Bonnie, take off your shirt.

What I want from you, Mr Shelby,

is for you to take a gamble on him.

I want you to help my son achieve his ambition.

BONNIE GRUNTS

What ambition might that be?

KNOCK ON DOOR

KNOCK ON DOOR

Who is it?

Inspector Moss.

I'm looking for Tommy.

He's at Charlie's.

But I wouldn't go there - some bad men have arrived.

Yes, I've heard...

Be drunk by now...or worse.

Can you take a message?

The intelligence service in London have sent seven officers

up to Birmingham to take over the investigation

into the Communists and seditionists.

They've got a list of people of great interest and, erm,

top of that list is Ada Thorne, formerly Shelby.

Now, they seem to think that she came back from New York

to organise the revolution in Birmingham.

Well, tell them they're wrong.

Ada Shelby's now firmly back in place in the family business.

Thing is, when you get a mark against your name,

it's very hard to shift it.

They will come looking for her.

Well, tell them there's a queue.

Everybody wants a Shelby.

Mrs Shelby...

..these are military men,

no less dangerous than any Italians.

You tell Tommy.

I think he'll understand.

I'll say goodnight to you, then.

Hello, Curly.

-Oh, hello...

-I'm here to collect Mr Shelby's horse.

I'm a little early, I think.

A-Are you going to train the horse to race?

Yes.

D-Don't use the crop,

she's very gentle.

I won't.

I-I...

CURLY STRAINS

How is Mr Shelby?

Well, now he's got the Americans after him,

-he's a bit hard on people.

-The Americans?

Yeah, they call them the Mafia.

Dear God.

Yeah, there's 15 of them. Yeah, they want to kill us all.

But we've got guns and grenades and Aunt Polly's back,

so it's going to be OK. Yeah.

I-I'll get the horse.

Mr Shelby, thank God you're back. We've got real trouble.

What meetings do I have today?

Erm, well, there's a supplier from Coventry at ten,

the convenor of the boilermakers union at 11, and then

Chamber of Commerce at one. But that isn't the thing.

Right, clear a space here, move this car back

and then 100 feet of rope and a bell.

-Rope?

-Yep, and a bell.

Mr Shelby, this place is about to explode.

Rope and a bell, Devlin. Ronnie, this way.

Yes, Mr Shelby.

Oh, by the way, the revolution's scheduled to begin at noon.

Here he is - Billy Mills.

Former heavyweight champion, Staffordshire, Warwickshire

and Worcestershire. Hello, Billy.

Yeah, and now I work for you, Mr Shelby,

for not enough money.

All right.

HE SHUFFLES PAPER That enough for you?

-Enough for what?

-There's someone here wants to fight you.

Bonnie Gold! Come here, son.

I'm a heavyweight.

He's a welterweight, at best.

Nevertheless, he wants to fight you.

Yeah, and when I damage him, the Blinders will take my eyes.

No comeback, Billy. It's just a fight, Queensberry rules.

-When?

-Now.

-Where?

-Here.

-ARTHUR:

-Right, you lot, come here.

Let's make it interesting.

Come place a wager with me.

I'll give you good odds.

I'll give you good odds on the boy,

even better on the big lad.

£2, there you go. What you want?

Bonnie. Come here, son.

SHOUTS OF ENCOURAGEMENT

CHEERING AND JEERING

Your boy knows he can hit back, right?

I told him, in the professional game,

people want their money's worth.

Don't win too fast.

But if you've seen enough...

Finish it, Bonnie!

Fuck me. That was a punch.

What's he got, horseshoes in those gloves, or what?

Nope. Just his dad's strength and his mother's temper.

-Does he have fits?

-No.

-Asthma?

-No.

-How's he cut?

-No-one's cut him yet, but his skin's thick.

-Does he drink?

-Porter. Sometimes.

-How many fights?

-25 bare-knuckle, all knockouts,

five with gloves in pastures. All knockouts.

Against Romany fighters?

That's why they won't let us in the fairs no more - he keeps winning.

I could fight a fucking tree and knock it out, Mr Shelby.

ARTHUR LAUGHS

-I like him. I like...

-Mrs Eden's waiting upstairs.

All right, I'll be there in a minute. Arthur.

Mr Shelby's on his way.

Fight in the workshop?

No. No, just a bit of sport.

Do you want more tea?

No. What kind of sport?

Sport between men, Mrs Eden.

Actually, I'm Miss Eden.

Be patient. A good man will come.

What do you think?

Don't know, it was over fast.

Yeah, but you can tell, aye?

I'll give him to the Irish boys in Digbeth, they can teach him.

Yeah, and then what?

We promote him. Big money in London.

New York, if he's good.

We control him, run the book.

Control the odds. Like a horse. Control when he wins,

when he loses.

Alfie Solomons runs a fighter.

He says it's fucking money for nothing.

Fighting's been good for us,

better if we know who's going to win.

We've a lot going on, though, Tom.

Yeah. That's why it'd be good to have the kid around.

If we take the fucking kid on,

one day he may end up fucking taking a bullet for you.

Can't afford to lose another brother, can I?

Hmm.

No horses like him,

so he's all right. Come on.

All right. We'll do it.

We need to do a deal about money.

-Yeah. Speak to my accountant.

-The witch?

-The witch.

So when will be my first real fight be, do you think, Mr Shelby?

Well, as soon as we can find men

stupid enough to get in the ring with you.

God help him.

There you go, Bonnie.

You're a Peaky Blinder now, son.

There you go.

The lion's share.

Thank you.

Mr Shelby, I understand you've had a bereavement.

I'm here to talk business.

-Then I'll be blunt.

-And as will I.

-What you're doing here is robbery.

-Every man is free to leave.

-You cut five shillings from the weekly wage.

-Mm-hm.

And you said, if I did that, you'd bring every

man and women in all my factories out on strike.

Yes.

Do you have a whistle?

If so, blow it.

I thought at least we might have a discussion,

as I do with other owners.

I'm not other owners.

No.

You believe because coal is expensive and it's been a cold

winter, and because wages have been cut over these past 12 months,

you think cos of all that nobody will walk out on strike,

cos no-one can afford to.

And, until recently, that would have been true.

But something has changed this past year.

A cold wind from the East.

People are not afraid any more.

HE SCOFFS

I have it on very good authority that

the Bolsheviks couldn't organise a fucking picnic.

You know, Mr Shelby,

it's almost as if you want trouble.

If the rule of law in Birmingham

were to break down during this...period of turmoil

for my family, then, yes,

that would indeed have its benefits...

..for reasons you could not understand.

I've heard rumours.

Sport between men.

Just blow your fucking whistle, eh?

DOOR OPENS AND SHUTS

FOOTSTEPS RECEDE

WHISTLE BLOWS

-TOMMY:

-Tools down, we got to clear it...

WHISTLE BLOWS

Right, come on, you lot, put your tools down. We're outside.

Go on.

Just leave it.

Just leave it, let's get out.

Everyone out.

I said, everyone out.

Stop working, immediately.

TOMMY: Yeah, come in.

I did say this would happen.

Who's next?

Erm...he's a delegate from the European Council for Trade.

-He's here to talk about the import of car parts to France.

-Right.

He's come all the way from Paris.

But, given the circumstances, I can send him away.

Given what circumstances? Send him in.

Mr Shelby, this is Monsieur Paz, from Paris.

I heard you had trouble.

It's good of you to see me.

You just came from Paris, eh?

You know Paris?

I left Paris in a cattle truck.

They said you were French.

No, I came here from Paris...

..that does not mean I'm French.

Guess where I'm from.

Well, in my cattle truck in Paris...

..there were American soldiers.

We played cards.

They sound like you.

Ah.

Did you win?

You didn't come on a train.

Your suit is pressed, your shoes are clean.

Where do you get your suits made?

I have a tailor...

..in New York City.

Look...

Fenacci. Italian.

He's my uncle.

He makes suits in a basement in Mott Street.

He is my uncle, so every stitch is stitched with blood.

I heard you dress well, Mr Shelby.

But now I see...

..not so well as me.

You know, I have uncles as well...

..but they're not the sort of men who would, uh...

..who would work in a basement with a needle and thread...

..Mr Changretta.

I am surprised how easy it was to get into a room with you.

And now?

And now...

And now you should know that during the trouble you

had earlier on your factory floor,

I sent an accomplice into your office in overalls.

He found your gun...

..and unloaded it.

Arthur Shelby...

..Polly Gray....

..Michael Gray...

..John Shelby...

..spent.

Ada Thorne...

..and, finally...

BULLET CLUNKS ON TABLE

..Tommy Shelby.

-WHISPERS:

-None of you will survive.

Your level of security is pitiful...

..and we are an organisation

of a different dimension.

I could have killed you when I walked through the door.

But, you see...

..I want you to be the last.

I want you to be alive after your entire family is dead...

..cos my mother says

that is what'll hurt you the most.

You people have traditions of honour. As do we.

Instead of sending you a black hand,

I could have had you killed in the night without knowing why.

-WHISPERS:

-But I want you to know why.

And I want to suggest to you

that we fight this vendetta with honour.

METAL HITS WOOD

No civilians. No children.

No police.

Welcome to Birmingham, Mr Changretta.

Grazie.

MUSIC: Further On Up The Road by Johnny Cash

# Where the road is dark

# And the seed is sowed

# Where the gun is cocked... #

-HE SIGHS

-That smell. I'll miss it.

What, the shit house?

Nah.

I don't know what it is.

Birmingham, I suppose.

Small Heath.

That smell.

The smell brings it back.

Where's John, do you think, Tom?

Fuck knows.

He's gone, though,

like a hole behind your head.

I thought you thought there was a heaven.

No.

More like hell for our John.

Nah, neither one.

He's just not here any more.

HE BREATHES RAGGEDLY

# Now, I been out in the desert just doin' my time

# Searchin' through the dust

# Lookin' for a sign

# If there's a light up ahead... #

It's like with Grace.

Arthur...they're just gone.

Just fucking gone.

# Cos I got this fever burnin' in my soul... #

GUNSHOTS ECHO

MUSIC: Red Right Hand by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

# On a gathering storm comes a tall handsome man

# In a dusty black coat with a red right hand... #