All language subtitles for Peaky_Blinders.2x03.HDTV_x264-FoV

The Italian gangs and the Jewish
gangs have been at war in London.

The Jews have been having
the worst of it. They need allies.

Tell us your plan.

I can offer you 100 good men.

Get him out of there, get him back!

Arthur killed a boy.

Polly, these are the files
for Michael and Anna Gray.

Your daughter is dead. But Pol...

Michael is alive.

I'm looking for someone called
Elizabeth Gray.

What do you want with
Elizabeth Gray?

I think she might be my mother.

An old friend of ours
is coming back to the city.

He's head of some secret
department...

the Irish desk.

♪ Take a little walk
to the edge of town

♪ Go across the tracks

♪ Where the viaduct looms

♪ Like a bird of doom

♪ As it shifts and cracks

♪ Where secrets lie

♪ In the border fires

♪ In the humming wires

♪ And you know you're
never coming back

♪ On a gathering storm comes

♪ A tall handsome man

♪ In a dusty black coat

♪ With a red right hand. ♪

He was murdered this morning
in a street show in the Patch.

He was Irish.

Is he a person of interest
to your department, sir?

Do you read the papers?

Birmingham papers.

I recommend the Daily Mail.
It will broaden your mind.

Now, if you read the national press,

you would know that the King has
offered the rebel Irish a treaty.

Some of the Fenians
want to accept it. The IRA do not.

Now, the IRA have
a long and glorious relationship...

with the garrotte.

Oh, dear.

Are they fighting amongst
themselves, are they, sir?

~ That will be all.
~ Right, sir.

I'm going to be up and down
from London quite a bit.

I'm going to need some lodgings.
Can you help me with that?

Well, you wouldn't want to stay
at the lodgings you had last time
though, sir, eh?

Too many bad memories, I suppose.

You should understand, Moss,

I have no regrets about
my previous mission in this city.

No, sir?

I imagine you boys have quite
a laugh at my expense.

A laugh, sir?

You think it's funny that
I developed feelings.

No idea what you're talking about,
sir.

I have no regrets about what
happened with Miss Burgess.

No "bad memories".

Right, sir.

He's losing his bloody mind.

Next.

Next.

All right then. Name?

The Digbeth Kid.

The Dig...

What are you? A boxer?

Digbeth Kid, like Billy the Kid.

Spend a lot of time at the pictures,
eh?

Cowboy pictures? Tom Mix?

Yeah?

What are you...?!

Wait, wait. It's not a real gun.

~ Let's have a look then, eh?
~ It's made of wood.

Bang. Bang.

Very nice.
Where did you get the gun belt?

My sister made it out of
an old blacksmith's apron.

My mum did most of the stitching.

She's not my real mum but...

She does what mothers do.

So she made you a gun belt.

All right there, mother's boy.

There's the door, on you go.
We're looking for...

Have you ever been arrested?

~ Yeah.
~ Yeah?

~ No.
~ Good.

You're the first bloke we've had in
here today with no criminal record.

Arthur, we can stand him up.

Do you know what that means?

The new Home Secretary
wants something done

about illegal gambling.

~ Damn right.
~ About bloody time.

So we help our coppers make
their quota of convictions

by having men stood up
to be arrested.

First offence,
you'll get a week inside.

We'll give you five quid
for your trouble.

How does that sound, cowboy?

Yeah.

Good. Write your address down
for Finn on your way out.

I can't write.

That's all right, Finn can't read.

Don't worry.

Just tell him your address
and we'll send someone round.

If the Sheriff don't run you
out of town first.

Good man.

Oh, I don't know, Tom.
Kids these days.

They didn't fight.
So they're different.

They stay kids.

How was it?

I was starving
so I would have eaten anything.

But, really, it was super.

Super.

So, er, are you a cook?

Not a cook, no.

The man who came to the house,

he was driving a posh car,
he looks rich.

What does he do?

~ He works with horses.
~ Really?!

~ I love horses. I've got a bay mare.
~ No!

I ride it all the time.

Then it's in the blood.

I've got about a million questions.

So do I.

I've had different pictures
in my head.

Well, here I am.

It's all right that it's me,
isn't it?

I don't have any choice.

I mean, you are who you are,
aren't you?

We don't choose.

And that's it.

Yeah, that's right.

God gave you to me.

People took you away.

And it is all right that it's me?
Isn't it?

In a place like this.

I thought it would be worse.

'Run for the hills!

'It's the Digbeth Kid!'

Get out of town, kid, or I'll
shoot your fucking head off!

Times up!

~ You're dead, go down. ~ John!

All right then, Polly.

Who's this?

Gentlemen,

this is your cousin.

Polly's son, Michael.

~ Pleased to meet you.
~ John.

I'm Arthur. You've already met me.

I used to throw you out of the window
so John could catch you.

I used to put you in a shoebox
and kick you down Watery Lane.

I bet you're glad to be back.

I don't remember any of it.

All I remember is
the day they took me away.

Well, you're here now, son.

Welcome to the Shelby family.

~ Later on, we'll show you the ropes.
~ Yeah, we'll show you what's what.

Let's leave him be for now, eh?

Come on, boys.

Nice suit.

They seem nice.

Here he is - Mr Inconspicuous.

Corporal Billy Kitchen.
Bloody grand to see you.

How are you feeling?

I've just come out
of bandages myself.

Ready for active service.
Thanks for seeing me here, Tommy.

It's all right, Bill. You don't
have to stand in line for us.

It's men like you
we're looking for, Billy.

But you have to pass
the medical first.

Sheffield mob showed up at Wincanton
trotting track. I took a bullet.

When do the bandages come off?

When I take 'em off.

One week. Not before.

You'll smell no rot.

There's no gangrene.

It's been a long time. Eh, Billy?

What did you do with your medals?

Threw them in the cut. Same as you.

It was never a hardship
having you Black Country boys

on our left flank.

And you Brummies did
all right on our right.

Damn right.

I want you to be
the head of a brigade, Billy.

It'll be Brigadier Kitchen
from now on.

You'll have 100 men
under your command.

And now we've got a member of
the Kitchen family on the payroll,

maybe your cousins and brothers
will let our boats pass through

the Black Country without
being held up and robbed.

I don't know what you're
talking about.

Go home, Bill.

Round up any good men you trust
and put the word out.

Black Country boys and Brummie boys
are on the same side again.

~ That'll be the bloody day.
~ Well, this is the bloody day.

London, man. There for the taking.

Tommy, I need to use the telephone.
Polly said you had one in the pub.

All right, be quick.
I have business.

Sir.

Polly said you own this place.

She said you own lots
of different businesses.

You call her Polly or Mum?

I can't get used to
calling her Mum yet.

~ Who are you calling?
~ My mother. I mean...

I know what you mean.

And what are you going to tell her?

I'm going to tell her where I am.

And now you're going to tell her
you're going home.

Polly said I could
stay for a few days.

~ You want to stay?
~ I've only just arrived.

What age are you, Michael?

17.

17. Which means it's not
up to you, right?

I'm 18 in a few weeks.
I make up my own mind.

You smoke?

No.

Drink?

You're going to call your mother

and tell her you're getting
the next train home.

When you get there, you're going
to write a letter to Polly saying

when you're 18 you'll come
back here and sort things out.

I just told you.

I make up my own mind.

Do you know what we do, Michael?

We... Shelbys?

Yes. I think I know what you do.

Yeah.

You've got smart eyes.

But you're young, so you think
what we do is all right.

It's not all right.

People get hurt.

Now call your mother and
I will drive you to the station.

No.

In my village,
there's this little wishing well.

It's made of white bricks,

right in the middle
of the village green.

Everybody says how pretty it is.

But I swear to God, if I spend
another day in that village,

I'm going to blow it up
with dynamite.

Probably blow my hands off with it
but it'd be worth it.

Just to see all those

pretty white bricks spread all over
the pretty village green.

Yep. You're Polly's son all right.

MUSIC: Red Right Hand
by Arctic Monkeys

Right boys, let's go to work.

Let's be having it!

Don't wait!

Keep it moving.

Move!

Next lad!

Name?

Abbey Heath.

~ Abbey Heath. Profession?
~ Baker.

Good lad, fill it out and fuck off.

Next lad!

Name?

Buddy Halls.

Buddy Halls. Right, profession?

Baker.

Good lad, fill it out and fuck off.

Next lad!

Name?

Billy Kitchen.

Billy Kitchen. Occupation?

HEAD baker.

Fill it out.

That Tommy Shelby, mate.

Never give power to the big man,
what did I tell you?

Never give power to the big man.

Next lad!

Name?

All right, boys, you've now
all been enrolled as bakers

in the Aerated Bread Company
of Camden Town.

If anyone asks, that's what you do.
You're bakers.

The coppers in Camden Town
are on our side, but north or south,

you show them that piece of paper.

Tell them you've come down
from the north to find work,

to break strikes. Tell them
you're fascists if you have to.

We're finding lodgings for you
but, for now,

you'll sleep here in the bakery.

But don't touch any of the bread,
it'll most likely explode.

Any questions?

Yes?

I haven't seen any bread.

He'll wake up.

Granted he won't have any teeth left
but he will be a wiser man for it.

And the last thing he will remember
is your funny little joke. Won't he?

Right!

There are fucking rules here.

Yeah, there are fucking rules
for a fucking reason.

Quite simply they have to be obeyed.
All right?

Rule number one.

The distinction between bread and rum
is not discussed.

Rule number two.

Anything, right, that your
superior officer says to you

or any of your other fucking
superior officers say to you, yeah?

NOT DISCUSSED!

Rule number three, four, five, six,
seven, eight, nine, I don't care.

For the rest of your fucking
miserable, measly lives, yeah?

Because I, like you, am also
a complete fucking sodomite.

Jewish women.

You do not go anywhere near them

because Jewish women for you
are off the fucking menu.

I think that's fair.

All right, that's it, yeah.

Forgive me, I interrupted.

Pick him up.

(Get them out of here
and make this fucking work.)

Don't fucking wait! You're meant
to be fucking soldiers!

You're a fucking disgrace!

Go!

You've got a key?

I kept a spare.

Give it to me.

Could do with some paint, eh?

Yeah. When I decide.

What is it that you want, Tommy?

Just came by to say hello.

Tommy Shelby never goes anywhere
for no reason.

Fine.

I've got £800 left
in the Shelby property fund

and I need someone down here to
look for suitable properties.

To rent?

Yes.

To poor people. Ten to a room.

No repairs, no water.

And if they complain, you just
send Arthur and the boys round.

I give advice down at the library.

Families thrown onto the street.

It's men like you we're fighting.

Well, anyway, I was just passing,
thanks for the tea.

Tommy.

There are always men outside
watching the house.

Yeah. Gangsters of the worst kind.

But they're there to keep you safe.

No, there are others.
They look like coppers.

They're on your side as well.

~ I don't have a fucking side.
~ Ada...

yes, you do.

And, anyway, if I thought there
was no-one watching the house,

I couldn't sleep.

Cheerio then.

That was great, well done.
Out we get then.

This house is mine.

I've taken on a maid.

She's made up the big room for you.

Come on, let's have a look.

I thought we could
spend the week here.

You know, get to know
each other... again.

I've got ham. Do you like ham?

I like ham, yes.

~ I've got a maid...
~ Yes, you said.

She's upstairs.

She can give us some tea.

Look, I ring this bell. Watch.

Yes, madam?

I think we'd like some tea.

You get used to it.

MUSIC: Out Of The Black
by Royal Blood

The cleaning job's gone.
Vacancy's filled.

I'm not a cleaner.

But I have come to clean away
some dirt.

Why don't you put that away
before it goes off?

You killed my son,

you Peaky bastard!

You beat him
and beat him and beat him.

Your son was a boxer.

No!

He was a boy...

who got into a ring
with an animal.

Yeah, ain't that the truth.

I've come to stop you...

.. because the coppers
and nobody else will.

If you're going to use it,

point that thing at my head.

That's where the trouble is.

Gut-shot soldiers take
half a day to die.

I've seen 'em.

Walking around with their guts
in their arms like dirty washing.

Hold that gun up and do it.

Well, then, do it!

Do it!

I'm going to finish my drink.

You can finish it with me
if you like.

Now, look. Look at me.

We've got a fund.

For you, you'll get paid weekly.

I know it won't bring back your son.

I know that.

And you have other sons.

You do.

And we'll find them work.

And you won't have to work.
You'll be...

Somebody has got to stop you people.

Who broke the fucking mirror?

Seven years bad luck, that is.

There'll be another
four boat-loads tomorrow.

What's up, Charlie?
Business is good.

This isn't business,
this is bloody work.

Cigarettes and booze is all right

but this manufactured stuff,
it's heavy.

I'm not even sure it's stolen.

Some of it is legally purchased.

One day, all of it will be.

It's like having a fucking job.

Easy with them fan belts.

I'll wipe that smile off your face.
I want another pound a boat.

Done.

You don't even fight me anymore.

And it's no sport getting through
the Black Country with this truce.

They just fucking wave at you
from the bank.

Well, just wave back, eh?

And all these fucking cars.

When did you last ride a horse, Tom?

These are just dry, Mr Campbell.

Major Campbell.

Beg pardon?

It doesn't matter.

Are there any other Irishmen
lodging in this house?

No, Mr Campbell,
I keep a respectable house.

With your special exception,
I have no Irish here.

Well, let me know
if any come enquiring after rooms.

Even if you turn them away,
let me know, would you?

You're not expecting trouble, I hope.

They only said you was
a policeman of some sort.

No. I'm not expecting any trouble.

Is there a cafe nearby that
serves chops? Lamb or pork?

There is a chophouse
two streets away.

But I myself serve sandwiches.
Egg and cress or ham.

Or anything that pleases you.

No. No.

I think I'll go out
and get some air.

Our scheduled meeting
is not until Sunday.

I decided to bring it forward.

You just wanted to show me that you
know where I live, isn't that it?

Am I supposed to be impressed?

You know... Mr Churchill
was impressed.

Yes, he was.

All my demands have been met.

Did he tell you?

Yes. Yes.

We had a meeting and your letter
was read aloud.

As a matter of fact, there was quite
a lot of hilarity at the meeting.

The gentlemen all found it
quite funny.

I see,
the gentlemen found it funny.

Tell me this, Mr Campbell, do the
gentlemen sometimes find you funny?

We will discuss our business
on Sunday...

on the agreed day,
at the allotted time,

and at the place which has
already been determined.

You have made your point.
Good night, Mr Shelby.

There was another reason
I came to see you tonight.

I just didn't want you to be
made a fool of is all.

The lodgings chosen for you
by the police department,

how shall I put this?

Well, the landlady used to run
the most famous whorehouse

in Stetchford.

She's only semi-retired.

I bet the gentlemen
would find that funny, eh?

Told to you in the spirit
of friendship and co-operation.

See you Sunday.

Name?

The Digbeth Kid.

Your real name.

Harold Hancox.

Profession.

Illegal bookmaker.

You don't admit that.

You say something like
"umbrella mender".

And then we decide you're lying
and then we arrest you.

Umbrella mender.

You were found in possession
of betting slips, race cards

and ticker tape.

Any explanation?

No...

"No, I have no explanation for my
possession of those items, officer."

Take him down, will you?
I'll fill in the rest myself.

Come on, son.

Bloody hellfire.

You've killed him, huh?

As I've explained,
he's not easy to get at.

He's got an army round him.

But when the time is right...

The time is right. It's right now.

When he's away from his familiar
territory, I will take him.

So what do you want?

We heard from a guard
at Winson Green prison that

one of their bookies
has just been put inside.

Kid called Harold Hancox.

We could make a point.

How many bakers is there
in Camden Town now?

There are a lot of bakers
in Camden Town, Mr Sabini,

but, as I have said, we don't as yet
have a definite number.

Who won the 4:15 at Chepstow?

Ragman.

~ Where's my dry cleaning?
~ It's been collected.

Who won the 3:50 at Kempton Park?

What? You don't know?

I can find out.

No need. I know already.

You see, the favourites,
they're all winning.

And the second favourites
are being done.

He's bewitching them.

Bewitching?

Gypsy stuff. Herbs and potions.

And he's tipping off our big punters
so they know who's going to win.

Regular customers betraying us
for profit.

You'd think they'd be loyal to us.
But profit, you see...

.. comes before race, creed
and family.

Results look normal to me.

You see shit!

Mr Sabini, if you think they're
planning to fix Northern races,

we'll take no more bets
on anything north of Towcester.

I gave you a job already.

And the job will be done.
But meantime...

Meantime fuck.

Meantime, what do you want us

to do about the kid
in the cage in Birmingham?

Why would you want me
to say that out loud?

Is there somebody listening?

All right, I'll say it.

We'll kill the Hancox kid
to send a message.

Good, and then you deal with
Tommy fucking Shelby.

You wanted to see me?

Aye.

Take off your clothes.

I know what you are,
so take off your clothes.

Not done in a very
gentlemanly-like way, if I may say.

Indeed not.

So it's true. Stop.

I only wanted proof,
not satisfaction.

Or indeed infection.

Are you in on the joke?

What joke?

I have unfinished business
in this filthy city.

And when the time comes,
I will finish that business.

And then my wrath will
come down on all of yous.

But now, tell your friends
in the police station...

that I know.

And when my judgment comes,

I'll be the one that's laughing.

Get out.

SONG: The Water Is Wide

♪ Oh, love is handsome

♪ And love is fine... ♪

♪ Bright as a jewel
when first it's new

♪ But love grows old

♪ And waxes cold

♪ And fades away

♪ Like the morning dew. ♪

On the right. On the right.

We haven't got all night.
Come on!

Let's be having you, Watkins,
in there on the right.

On the right! Come on, boys!

Harold Hancox?

Tell everybody this is what
happens to "Blinders"

who come into the Green from now on.

Orders of Sabini.

Look, I'm not a Blinder.
I'm not. I've been stood up.

I'm not real! I'm not real!

I'm not real!

♪ And neither have I
the wings to fly. ♪

This had better be good to
interrupt my holiday.

Where's the boy?

In the back room.
I only brought him

because afterwards
we're going to the museum.

~ He wanted to come in
and say hello but... ~ Shut up, John.

There is nothing of interest
to Michael in this room.

Tommy, get on with it.

Last night, one of our men
had his throat cut in Winson Green.

This morning, I had a telegram
to say it was Sabini who ordered it.

And it says here that
Thomas Shelby's next.

If our men think
we can't look after them in prison,

they'll not work for us.

Sabini knows that. So we need
to get the Green sorted out.

Scudboat, you and one of the boys.

Break a couple of windows
and get yourselves arrested.

I'll have our coppers
get you into the Green

and you can find
the bastards who did it.

Instead of breaking a window,
can we pinch a car?

What? Everybody else
is getting a bloody car.

I'm still on a donkey.

All right, just get yourselves
fucking arrested,

it doesn't matter how.

And before you all laugh,
a boy is dead.

He was just a kid.

We'll start a fund for his family,
Pol.

Agreed.

So is that it? Can I go now?

Well, as company treasurer,

I need your permission
to spend 1,000 guineas.

On what?

On a horse.

1,000 guineas on a horse?

That's right.

When was this decided?

You've been busy with Michael.

Oh, my God.

So, in the absence of common sense,
you boys have had an idea.

Polly...

there's a thoroughbred
quarter-Arab filly

up for auction
at the Doncaster Blood Stock.

What do we want with
a 1,000-guinea horse?

When we make our move on
Sabini's racing pitches,

any men we get into
the betting enclosure

will be lifted by Sabini's police.

A good racehorse is a passport
to the owner's enclosure.

We'll be in there
with all the toffs.

Coppers won't know where to look.

Yeah, the Epsom Derby, Pol.

We'll be drinking
with the bloody King.

The Derby?

Did he say the Derby?

That's right.

For the last ten years
Sabini's made it his race.

If we're going to take him down,
might as well make it there
as a symbol.

~ Did you come up with this idea
in a pub by any chance? ~ Pol...

a good racehorse is
an investment, like property.

We need to diversify the portfolio.

So when is this sale?

Tomorrow.

And Tommy's had a death threat
so we'll have to go with him
for protection.

So, you're going to close up
the shop, go out on a piss-up

and blow 1,000 guineas on a horse
that's not even whole Arab.

Quarter Arab is better!

~ Quarter Arab, it means...
~ Curly, shut up.

I thought I told you
to lock that door.

He did.

I used the key on the nail.

Look, I've been listening.
I want to go with them.

You see?!

I love horses. I could even help.

Over my dead body.

It'll be all right, Mum...

I've been to loads of horse auctions
before with my uncle.

They're very respectable.
People bring their butlers.

Yeah, and their posh wives!

And their mistresses...

Let him come, Polly.

We'll go there,
buy an 'orse, come back.

I'll drop him back at the house
in Sutton before it gets dark.

No.

Fucking no.

All right, that's it.
Back to work.

Come on!

Aunt Pol,
when I was Michael's age,

I'd killed a hundred men
and seen a thousand die.

If you want to scare
that kid away for ever,

carry on how you're going.

If you want him to stay,

let him come.

I can't believe it,

all John's old things fit me.

Christ, you look like your father.

Shrimp... ham.

What was he like - my dad?

How did he die?

Well, I won't lie to you,

he died drunk,

squeezed between
a boat and a lock.

A real river gypsy's death.

But he could sing,

play the piano...

His smile would break your heart.

You've got his same beautiful eyes.

When he was sober,
he was kind and gentle.

His trouble was,

he fell in with the wrong crowd
when he was a boy.

I have told them
not to blow that horn.

This is a respectable
fucking neighbourhood!

~ She's heating up, Curly,
take a look. ~ Yeah.

Let me out for a piss.

She made loads.
Do you want one?

What the bloody hell's that?

Sandwiches, ham I think.
And we've got shrimp paste, too.

There's tea, but we'll have to
take turns cos there's only one cup.

What?

Sandwiches?

Yeah.

Polly made bloody sandwiches?

What's this,
teddy bear's fucking picnic?

All right. We will drink the tea
and we will eat the sandwiches

and then we will drive on.
All right?

No crumbs, Charlie.

~ Hand them over. ~ Herd them up,
Arth, you fat bastard. ~ Fuck off.

John, come on!

All right, lads,
this is a respectable event

and we will all behave accordingly.

No weapons, no drinking.
John, we will stay together.

When the horse comes up,
I will do the bidding.

I've already registered my interest
with the auctioneer

so he knows to expect my bids.

Do I get to run a hand
over her, Tommy?

We'll have a vet's report, Curly.
But keep an eye open when she walks.

I've got a feeling, Tommy.
Something isn't right.

It's all right, Curly.
You're just in an unfamiliar place,

~ we all are. ~ I get feelings
sometimes, Tommy. ~ It's all right,
Curly,

~ it's all right. ~ Shut up, Curly.
~ Do I hear 1,450?

Do I hear 500? 500...
1,600, 1,700, thank you.

1,900, 2,000!

2,100, 2,200, 2...

Why do people come late
to these things?

Hmm?

People come late
cos they know what they want.

It's only you who needs
to see every horse.

2,700 am I bid?

2,600 I am bid...

Sold!

Morals of Marcus, Sedgemere stud,
by Tetrach out of Lady Josephine.

We'll start the bidding
at 800 guineas.

All right, Tommy, this is her.

Do I hear 800 guineas?

850.

850, do I hear 9?

Do I hear 9?

~ 9 am I bid? ~ Bid for this one.

The grey? Why?

~ He's beautiful. ~ It's a filly.

Micky needs some pace
on the gallops. I promised him.

1,000. Do I hear 1,050?

1,100?

1,200?

Do I hear 250?

250.

I'll go halves with you
from the spring fund. Go, go.

1,300?

1,400?

Do I hear 5?

1,500.

1,600.

Do I hear 7?

1,700, thank you.

~ That's it, Tom, you have to stop.
~ You don't have it in your belt.

Yes, I do. I'm having the horse.

She's a sweet beast, Tom.
But stop, I tell you.

~ I feel something bad.
~ Shut up, Curly!

2,000. Do I hear 2,050?

2,050 am I bid?

Enough!

Billy could use one of my geldings.

2,000 I am bid. Do I hear 2,050?

Last time.

2,050?

Sold to Mr...?

Thomas Shelby.

To the premises
of Mr Charles Strong,

Small Heath.

~ What kind of premises?
~ Boat yard.

Yachts?

Canals.

I'm curious.
What is your business, Mr Shelby?

Import/export.

But I also sell pegs
and tell fortunes(!)

You beat us to it.

Did I?

I was trying to nab a filly
for my stud.

~ Sorry. ~ Thomas Shelby from where?

From Birmingham.

Goodness!

No, not much.

May Carleton.
I breed racehorses and train them.

What is it you do?

I rarely answer questions,
is what I do.

Tommy, come on, hurry up!
We've got to go!

Well, before you go, if you ever
decided to put that filly out,

~ I'd be interested in having her.
~ I plan to race her.

Do you have a trainer?

I know people.

I know people, too.

Tommy! We've got to get
this kid back before dark

or Polly'll have your balls!

She will have 'em!

We know different people,
I would guess.

My father knows Mick Hancock.

Trained three Ascot winners.

Oh, so that was your father?

Yes.

We're joint owners of the stud.

He took the majority share
when my husband was killed.

Ypres.

Tommy!

We've got to get back
to the caravans!

The chickens are hungry!

So will you consider me?

I will consider you.

You still didn't tell me
what you do.

Oh, I do bad things.

But you already know that.

Right, about bloody time!

It's the fucking truth, John boy.

Rich women these days, all they want
is working-class cock.

Tommy, maybe she was the
something bad I had a feeling about!

She looked all right to me, Curly!

All their men are dead, see.
Officers, all shot.

Yeah, by us.

All I'll say is she has
good contacts in the racing world.

Here, Michael, you drive.

Thomas Shelby?

Tommy!

Tommy! Down!

Tommy Shelby?

How about fucking Arthur?!

Fucking good to meet you.

Get him off him!

~ Arthur! ~ Arthur!

Get him off him!!

Come on. Stop it, Arthur.

Get him off.

Arthur, that's enough.

Arthur, come on!

Come on, Arthur, come on.

It's over.

Arthur!

Come on, shut up.

Come on, come on.

He's still breathing.

Don't get blood on the kid!

Michael, you didn't see a thing.
This didn't happen, all right?

Give me the keys.

Michael, give me the keys.

I'm all right to drive.

All right. Go on. Go on, go on!

Tommy, he's fucking scarpered!

~ Right, let's get out of here
sharpish. ~ Come on!

So... how'd it go?

Well, it was cold in the van

but it was super... really.

Let me smell your breath.

And did they behave themselves?

They were amazing, Mum.

They were really amazing.

♪ There's a devil waiting
outside your door

♪ How much longer?

♪ There's a devil waiting
outside your door

♪ How much longer?

♪ And he's bucking and braying
and pawing at the floor

♪ How much longer?

♪ And he's howling with pain
and crawling up the walls

~ ♪ How much longer?
~ ♪ Oh yeah

♪ There's a devil waiting
outside your door

♪ How much longer?

♪ He's weak with evil
and broken by the world

♪ How much longer?

♪ He's shouting your name
and he's asking for more

~ ♪ How much longer?
~ ♪ Give him more, give him more

♪ There's a devil
crawling along your floor

♪ How much longer?

♪ And he's old and he's stupid
and he's hungry and he's sore

♪ And he's lame and he's blind
and he's dirty and he's poor

♪ Give him more, give him more
Give him more, give him more

♪ Give him more. ♪

♪ On a gathering storm
comes a tall, handsome man

♪ In a dusty black coat

♪ With a red right hand. ♪