Chapter 32

As it turned out, her reasons for not telling him about her birthday were revealed with very little questioning on his part.

They were all in the kitchen when Ada and Rosie came through the front door, Rosie grumbling about how late their dinner would be now because Ada had kept her out and stopping dead in her moaning when Lily went running through to greet her.

"Lily why are you wearing that good Christmas dress on a Monday night?" he heard her ask suspiciously.

"Because we're having a surprise birthday tea," Lily answered.

"For who?" she asked, her voice slightly weak.

Tommy reckoned she knew fine well for who.

"For you," Lily said with a giggle.

"But it's not my birthday," she replied.

"No," he said, coming to stand in the doorway to meet her eyes, "It's not your birthday. Apparently, it was your birthday – last week. And you just forgot to mention it."

"I can't believe you didn't tell me it was your birthday!" Ada said, incredulous.

Tommy had decided to conceal his reasons for telling Ada to keep the two of them out the house for a few hours, knowing his sister would give the game away if he did.

Rosie looked between the eyes of the two Shelby's and her sister, a slight panic appearing in the depths of her own.

"Come on," he said, holding his hand out to her.

She seemed to focus on it and crossed the room to give him hers, looking up at him for some kind of reassurance or explanation. He smiled and saw a flicker of relaxation happen on her face, then he used the hand to manoeuvre her around in front of him and push her gently through to the kitchen where the cake was set in the centre of the table.

"It's not the cake I would have picked for you," he said quietly in her ear, able to feel the tension in her body as her hand clutched at his, "But it was the only one they had left because someone didn't give me any warning."

He rubbed her back with his free hand, pushing his knuckles in to her. She rolled her shoulders against into his touch but didn't say anything.

Even when Arthur said, "Well – happy birthday a bit late love," and came to put his arms around her she didn't summon words, and she didn't let go of Tommy's hand, though she patted his brother's back with her free one.

Tommy grinned over her head at a bemused Arthur, "She's gone all shy."

"I am not shy!" she said, attempting and failing to snap, "I just didn't want a fuss."

"Oh, you are shy," he said, rolling his eyes, "I've never come across anyone who likes eyes on them less than you."

"I'm just not conceited, Thomas."

"No, that you're not, Rosalie," he said, pulling out a chair and pushing her down into it, moving his hands to her shoulders to let her know he wasn't leaving her alone.

This was why she hadn't told him – Ada's idea of a birthday celebration, with the extended family gathered and all attention on her was Rosie's idea of hell.

"Rosalie?" John snorted.

"Don't even think about it, John," she said, managing to glare successfully at him – slowly regaining control of herself.

"Rosie are you not happy about your birthday?" Lily asked.

Rosie glanced over her shoulder to her sister, who had followed behind her into the kitchen.

"Come here you," she said, reaching out a hand to the child and pulling her up onto her lap, "Of course I'm happy – I just don't like a fuss, you know me."

"We got you presents," Lily said.

"Presents," she repeated, her voice going slightly faint again.

Polly smiled, "We had been going to do them after dinner but maybe we should do them now? Then we can leave you to your dinner and your cake."

"Wait, what?" John said, his eyes snapping to Polly, "I was promised cake!"

"We'll leave you some, John," Tommy said, his eyes warning his brother.

"No, no – stay," Rosie said, to his surprise, "You should get some cake while it's fresh. Where are your kids John?"

"Lizzie's watching them."

"Well why don't you get them? There's enough food to go around. I've got leftover stew as well from last night."

"You sure?" Tommy asked her, squeezing her shoulder.

"Yeah," she said, looking up at him and smiling slightly, "I don't want it on my conscience that we sat and had cake without them." Her smile disappeared suddenly, "But absolutely no bloody singing – in fact, someone give me a knife and we'll cut the cake now so all that anyone needs to do is eat it."

"Alright – no singing," Tommy agreed, cocking an eyebrow, "Though don't think I haven't considered that maybe you just want them here so that they can make a racket and take everyone's attention off you."

She visibly relaxed when he confirmed there would be no singing and she smirked up at him, "Aye they are quite good for that to be fair".

He shook his head in amusement, then turned to his brother, "Right John – the birthday girl's wishes are that your mob attend so who are we to disagree?"

John rolled his eyes, but headed off out the door, returning with the four of them in tow.

It was a much more understated celebration than Ada's – and as he'd agreed there was no singing, but after her initial unease they all seemed to have rather a nice evening, even if he did have to smack her arse when she started gathering up the dishes.

"At least let me put them in the sink, Tommy," she said, rolling her eyes over her shoulder at him.

"Not on your birthday," he said, reaching over and taking them from her.

"It's not my birthday though."

"Yes, I know, and we're going to have a chat about that."

"We are?" she asked, her brow creasing, a slight worry in her voice.

"Uhuh," he said casually, taking the dishes over to the sink, glancing out the window to check that the kids, who had all disappeared out the back, were all where he could see them – as they'd been told to be.

Satisfied they'd obeyed him he turned his eyes over to the table, where she had stayed, watching him as he dumped the dished into the sink. He thought about shouting Finn in to do them, but the others had gone through to the living room and since they were alone he wanted to take the chance and ask her…

"I know you don't like being the centre of attention," he began, feeling slightly awkward, lingering by the sink so that there was a bit of distance between them.

"To put it mildly," she said with a slight smile.

"But is that the reason you didn't tell me?" he asked.

His throat almost constricted as he asked it, so afraid of the answer that he would rather avoid the question.

"I suppose so," she said, moving her eyes off of him to look at the ground.

His heart sank a little, maybe there was more to it.

"Okay," he said, nodding, not letting his disappointment or worry cloud his face.

He crossed back to the table to pick up some more of the dishes.

"Tommy," she said suddenly, just as he was about to turn to move back to the sink.

"Uhuh?"

She seemed nervous and she tripped and stumbled over her words as she said, "I, ehh, I really like being here."

"I like you being here," he replied, his heart rising from where it had fallen, though he kept his voice and face as still as ever.

"Good," she nodded, "I really, err… I really appreciate everything you've done for me you know? For me and Lily. I didn't not tell you because I don't want to work for you – I know that's why you asked me here and I want to be useful."

"What?" he asked, confused.

He put down the dishes he had picked up and came around to stand in front of her, placing his hand under her chin, forcing her to look up at him, "Is that why you think I want to know when your birthday is?"

She bit her lip, "I don't know… I- I presumed so? I want to be able to pay you back for what you've done, you know, I do, I promise. But you said I should do the leaver's cert, so I figured I'd start work after I'd done that?"

He placed his hands on the side of her face, running his thumbs along her cheeks, "You are staying in school to do that certificate. And I need you to forget about this nonsense of paying me back – you don't owe me anything. I get," he broke off and took a deep breath, "I get a lot of joy out of you being here. You and Lily. And besides, this – it being your birthday – it came out because Lily saw me with some books for you and she asked me if I'd bought them for your birthday. I didn't. I bought them for you because the bets on today's race were the highest for ages. You have no idea how good your ideas are."

"Did you make a lot of money from the horse?" she asked, hopeful.

He shook his head, "Nope."

She raised an eyebrow at him and frowned.

He grinned, "Oh it's alright, I side-tracked Arthur from his anger by focussing him on your birthday instead. But I didn't mean to make the money today. I wanted the horse to win, to let them think the magic was real. And word will spread, so the next time we do the powder trick, it won't be just the Garrison that'll bet on the horse, it'll be the whole of Small Heath. And you know what?"

"Either you make the money or then or the horse wins again because you're diabolical," she grinned back at him.

He flicked his eyebrows, "The horse will win again."

"Is that right?"

He nodded, "And the third time we do it, we'll have the whole of Birmingham betting on it, a thousand quid bet on the magic horse. And that time, when we are ready, the horse will lose."

"When we are ready – you mean when you are ready Thomas Shelby."

He moved his hands to her hair and shook his head with a smile, "Oh no – no this was your idea. We're a team, Rosalie Jackson."

"So, I'm riding the sidecar as you drive us straight into hell then?"

"Uhuh. But I promise we'll go in style."

She smiled, and laid her hands on his waist, "So if you're not angry with me because you thought I was trying to avoid working for you, why did you want to discuss me not telling you?"

"You haven't told me why you didn't tell me – you've just told me a reason that wasn't why you didn't tell me."

She smiled and ducked her eyes, "I don't know Tommy – you just do so much for me already and I just – I couldn't figure out how to tell you without it sounding like I was asking for attention, asking you to make a fuss or buy me things and I – I didn't want it to seem like that. Does that make sense?"

"Look at me," he growled throatily, waiting till she raised her eyes before he continued, "Did you ever consider maybe we wanted to make a fuss? No one in this house has eaten so well as they have done since you came – and on that note, I know you practically run this house for me. I owe you for that. And Polly owes you, for all the time she's got back to herself because of it. We all owe you. Christ, I've seen more of John's kids since you came than I ever have done – I think John's seen more of his kids than he had done. Katie's got someone she can be close to with Li-"

"You know," she interrupted him, chewing her lip, her eyes glancing to the back door, "I love that Lily gets to have a family now. That's why I told John to bring those kids over. But I think I must be the most selfish person in the world because every time she disappears out with Katie instead of staying with me I get – oh I don't know – almost a bit jealous."

He snorted, "Yeah well, me too."

"Lily loves you."

"I know, she told me," he said, unable to stop himself from smiling at the memory of it, "I love her too."

"I know you do," she said, softly.

They were quiet for a moment before he said, "Now, in terms of my attention – you should know you always have that."

"Do I indeed?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yup. I know it might not seem like it when things can be so mad around here, but you do."

She didn't answer him, but her eyes searched his face.

"You might have noticed my name wasn't on any of those presents you got."

She shrugged, "I didn't feel like anybody needed to get me anything, never mind you, so I didn't think anything of it."

He smirked, "Well, I got you something. But I thought maybe I could take you to dinner next Saturday – just you and me? So that I could give you my undivided attention – and your present?"

Plus it gave him time to get it engraved for her.

"Really?" she asked, a note of pleasure in her voice that she couldn't hide.

He smiled, "Really. And I figured since I didn't tell Ada, she could maybe take you to town during the day or whatever and get you a dress to wear as her present to you. If you want. Or you can go alone, whatever."

She shrugged, "I don't really need a dress."

"Oh, you do – they won't let you in in trousers."

"Aye cause that's fair, I presume men get to go in wearing trousers," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"I imagine they turn men away if they turn up wearing dresses though. And, on that note, I heard all about your women's liberation – we can discuss that over dinner, why you think I won't let you go help whoever Sylvia is."

She looked at him, "What do you mean?"

"What I say – I want to know why you think I wouldn't let you help some toymaker."

"Sylvia isn't a toymaker," she said with a smile, "She started the Worker's Socialist Federation."

"The Worker's Socialist Federation indeed," he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

He'd heard of it vaguely – it had grown from a women's suffrage group in London.

"Yeah, she started the East London Toy Factory during the war, to make work for the women in London whose husbands had gone off to war or been killed."

He nodded, "Right – well – that makes a lot more sense. I didn't get the impression you harboured a desire to design toys."

"I don't think I have any strong political allegiances to any parties - but she did stuff that actually helped, you know?" her hands flew about as she talked, her eyes sparkling with her clear admiration for the woman, "There was the toy factory for women, and a nursey to watch the kids of the women who worked there. And she organised these legal advice centres for women who were having trouble whilst their husbands were at war. And she set up cost price restaurants to help women feed their families during the war, but so they didn't need to feel like they were charity cases."

"Well I know how you feel about the idea of charity cases."

"People deserve dignity, even if they're poor, Tommy."

"Oh, that I agree with," he said, nodding.

"But you don't agree with women's liberation?"

"I never said that."

"Are you against it?"

"Nope."

"Really?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Really. I told you already - you can have whatever opinions you like as long as you don't scream them at me. I mean as far as I was aware you got the vote, so I don't really see what else you need but-"

"No," she cut him off, "Women over thirty got the vote."

"Yeah?"

"Men can vote from the age of twenty-one, Thomas. Why should women have to wait an extra nine years? Do you know the average life expectancy of a woman in this country is sixty? I doubt I'll make it that far given I come from here. So why should I wait over half my life to get a say in the last few decades of it?"

"Alright, I see what you're saying," he said, frowning at her relaxed acceptance of not making it to sixty, "But you'll be making it to sixty – and beyond - y'hear?"

"You reckon you can order me to stay alive, do you?"

"Yup."

"Well I'll give it my best shot. Though you should know the average life expectancy for a man is fifty-five."

"Maybe I'll change my mind on taking you to dinner, your conversation is awful."

"For a gangster you're not very comfortable with the idea of death, are you?"

He rolled his eyes at her, "For a sixteen-year-old, you're too comfortable with it."

He had been very comfortable with the idea of death once. He had accepted it. Cut off from the retreat, waiting for the Prussian Cavalry to come and finish them off. In the bleak midwinter. But then she had come along with the fire in her eyes and had burned away any remnants of frost or ice. She had burned the winter. And for the first time since then, he had begun to value this spring of his second life.

"Small Heath though, not much point in being precious around here, is there?" she said.

"We won't be here much longer."

"You think not?"

"My grandmother was born in a tent, me mother on a narrowboat," he told her, "Ada was born upstairs in this house, right above this room – I was sitting in here when it happened."

"And your children Tommy?"

He allowed a smile to flicker around the corners of his mouth, "My children will be born in a better house than this one. And I'll be sitting in a drawing room with a cigar when they come along."

"A cigar indeed?"

"Special occasion it'll be – I might even wet their heads with Scotch rather than Irish whisky."

"So, hell will have frozen over when you have children then?"

"If I'm taking you there in the sidecar I'll need to freeze it to make it safe for you first."

"Well if there's anyone could make it happen I'd believe it to be you Thomas."

"We'll make it happen - as long as you keep giving me your ideas."

"Well I hope since you're such a supporter of women's liberation I'll be getting compensated equally for my ideas."

"Oh, I'll ensure you get compensated, don't you worry," he told her, flicking his eyebrows.

"You know I almost get the feeling you're not promising me money when you say that," she smirked.

"You almost get that feeling do you, you little wench? Well, we'll discuss your compensation on Saturday."

"Will we indeed?" she said, attempting to keep her voice steady, but unable to stop the breathiness coming through it as he stepped closer to her.

"Uhuh," he told her, running his hands to her waist and tightening his grip on it, "But one thing we need to get clear first, Miss Jackson."

"Yes Mr Shelby?"

"If I find you withholding information from me again, about birthdays or anything else, I'll equate it to lying and I'll turn you over my knee, you understand?"

Her eyes widened, "Tommy I'm sixteen now."

"I told you before," he said with a grin, "I don't care if you're fifteen or fifty, I'll put you over my knee – so take it as sixteen or sixty now. Because you bloody well will make it to sixty."

"Well I'll do my best sir," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Sir indeed?" he said with a smirk, "I could get used to that one."

She flared and smacked his chest, "Oh I bet you could Thomas Shelby!"

He was saved from replying by a wail from Lily sounding through the back door.

Immediately their moment was gone as she sprung to attention, going to the door in a few steps, him right behind her. The baby wasn't seriously hurt, but she clung to her sister as Rosie carried her in and sat her on the sideboard, pulling her dress up to look at the skint knees.

Tommy was dispatched to get water and some clean cloths, which Rosie used to wipe the blood away.

"What's going on in 'ere?" Arthur asked, appearing in the doorway, alerted by the child's cries.

"Lily's never going to walk again," Rosie turned and told his brother, quite seriously, "She's broken both her kneecaps."

Arthur looked horrified for a minute before he caught the smile playing at the corner of the redhead's mouth.

"Oh dear!" he joined in, crossing over to where they had gathered around the child, "I'll just need to carry her everywhere from now on."

"Just have a poke right here Arthur," she said, prodding at Lily's knees, "No bones left. She's shattered them clean away."

Arthur grinned and prodded the knee nearest him, as Lily giggled and said, "I have bones!"

"You sure?" Rosie asked, thoughtfully.

Lily poked her own knee and nodded.

"Alright, well, maybe we'll give it a go – Arthur if you stand there," she gestured a few steps back then turned her attention back to Lily, "I'll lift you down and we could try a small walk from here to Arthur, and if you can manage that there might be hope for you in the future, eh?"

Lily nodded and ran over to Arthur as soon as she was placed on the floor.

"It's a miracle – she'll survive," Rosie said, then, frowning as Arthur lifted her, "Though I am now faced with the realisation that the pinafore I had put on her before dinner has mysteriously vanished, even though she was definitely wearing it when she went out that door. Where's that gone Lily?"

"I didn't want to wear it Rosie," Lily pouted.

"I don't care, away and get it back on – you're lucky you didn't rip that dress when you fell on it."

"I don't want to!" Lily protested, shifting in Arthur's arms.

"You do as you're told Lily," Tommy warned her, raising an eyebrow.

"Come on Lily, we'll go outside and see if we can find it, eh?" Arthur said, stepping towards the door, though it was filled by Jack before they could go through it.

"I didn't push her!" Jack announced, looking between him, Arthur and Rosie.

Tommy managed to keep his face straight whilst Arthur snorted.

"You didn't push her, eh?" Tommy asked, crouching slowly down to address his nephew.

Jack shook his head.

"Come here," Tommy ordered, pointing at the floor in front of him.

The boy dawdled over nervously, and Tommy gave him a sharp smack as soon as he was within reaching distance.

"That was for being stupid enough to come in claiming innocence before anyone's even asked you if you did anything – she never said anyone pushed her," he told him.

"She didn't?" Jack asked, glancing up at Lily who was still in Arthur's arms.

"No, she didn't," Tommy replied, "Now away and play while you can, you'll be going home soon – it's getting on and there's school tomorrow."

It was late by their usual routine, but the kids had been having a good time from what he could see. Arthur joined them outside, finding Lily's discarded pinafore and managing to put it on her the wrong way around so that the front of her dress was not at all protected, before he started chasing them around.

"Didn't know he had that much energy still in him," Tommy mused as he and Rosie peered on from the window.

"Energy or whisky?" she snorted.

"I suppose it doesn't matter if the outcome's the same," he replied with a grin.

They watched as Jack and Alfie knocked Arthur down and began to climb on top of him. Finn and George were hanging back from joining in fully, but they were laughing as Arthur pretended to die from the onslaught of blows Alfie was raining down on his chest.

"I don't know why you let her put that dress on for a bloody Monday night at home Tommy," Rosie said, shaking her head as her attention focussed back to her sister, who was now crawling on the ground next to Arthur's still body, the unprotected front of the dress in direct contact with the dirt and the stone.

"Ah it's Small Heath, where else is she going to wear it if not on a Monday night at home?"

She clicked her tongue in response and shook her head at him.

Unable to help himself he moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing the top of her head, "Stop fretting about the bloody dress. When we have that big house with the drawing room the kids will have nothing but fancy clothes to wear and you'll just need to get used to them running around in them."

"Is that right?"

"Uhuh."

She turned in his arms to face him and placed her hands on his elbows, "I don't care how much money you ever make Thomas, my children will know the value of it and they'll look after their things."

He smiled and kissed her forehead, "There was me thinking I'd be the strict parent."

She smirked and raised an eyebrow, "Up to you how you parent your own kids Tommy, I'm just talking about mine."

"Different sets of kids, are they?" he said, raising his own eyebrow.

"You can tell me on Saturday I suppose," she replied, then turned back to watch as Arthur rose from the dead and threw Katie over his shoulder.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Rosie took Lily off to bed not too much later, grumbling in an amused tone that she'd need to give her an extra bath because she was covered in mud – which the rest of the non-residents of number six took as their cue to go to their own homes.

Tommy chased Finn off not much behind Lily given how late it was getting and headed up the stairs himself, wondering what was taking so long. When silence answered his light knock, he stuck his head around the door that had once been John's to check what was going on – only to find Lily asleep in bed, clutching the bear she had named after him to her, and Rosie not there. He crossed and sat on the bed for a minute, stroking the blonde head lightly.

Lily blearily opened her eyes at him, but he shook his head and whispered, "Not morning yet bab, I'm just checking in on you, you go back to sleep," which she did, quite easily with a sleepy smile up at him.

He stared down at her for a few more minutes, wondering what he had ever done to deserve her. His biological kids would be born to him in a better house than this – and he meant to take her to a better house than this too. But she'd come to him in this house. And Finn and Ada too. It was hard to reckon that they had ever been as small and innocent as Lily was now, but they had been once. And she would leave it behind at some point and become as big a pest as Ada, he had no doubt, but he would be granted the privilege of guiding her through that transition. Polly had dealt with those years of Ada's upbringing.

He stood up quietly and stole to their fire, putting more coal on and stoking it a little before going across the way and sticking his head around Finn's door too. His little brother was fast asleep with a leg hanging off the side of the bed, so he crept in and folded his leg back onto the mattress, pulling the covers over him. Finn didn't stir as he moved him.

Back in the hall he figured she had gone to the outhouse and he just hadn't heard her cross the kitchen, but the light was on in Ada's room and his nostalgia for the days when she had been Lily's size had him wanting to check on his sister too – as much of a pest as she was - but he halted outside the room upon hearing the two voices.

He shook his head, how two girls who were so different to one another, and who had been so indifferent to one another not so long ago, could share the bond those two seemed to have developed he didn't know. He was going to head back downstairs and let her reappear when it suited her, leaving them to their women's talk, but he heard his name and pricked up his ears.

"Just ask Tommy about it," Rosie was urging.

"Aye, so I will – he'd bite my head off."

"Well if you think he'd bite your head off then stop it."

"I don't want to," Ada replied.

"I reckon you're going to end us both up in a heap of trouble," Rosie said darkly.

He smiled at her tone. For all her sauce she didn't sound like she did relish the idea of being in trouble with him. Unless – he worried suddenly – unless she didn't mean trouble with him, unless she meant trouble of a bigger sort? He strained to hear more.

"Stop worrying – he definitely just meant you."

"I'm not sure he did Ada – you heard what was said at that meeting on Saturday."

"That was to annoy Arthur by showing off about how much more he knew."

"Ada just ask him."

Ada sighed, "Look just leave it, eh?"

"It's all very well to say just leave it – he told me down there he'll take me keeping things from him as the same as lying to him Ada. He told me he'd…" she trailed off.

"Told you he'd what?"

"That he'd put me over his knee," she replied, clearly through gritted teeth.

"He wouldn't do that to you," Ada replied confidently.

"I'm not so bloody sure Ada, I can tell when he's being sarcastic - and he says it lightly enough, but I think he's quite serious."

"He's never spanked you and you're sixteen now – you're a legal adult. He can't spank you, it's ridiculous."

"He said whether I'm sixteen or sixty, Ada."

"Well he can bugger off if he thinks he'll be spanking me when I'm sixteen," Ada said defiantly.

He considered making his presence known, just to reassure her that he'd spank her anytime she needed it regardless of her age – but he wanted to know what exactly it was Rosie thought he'd spank her for – what exactly it was she was keeping from him on his sister's behalf. At least, he figured, if that was what it was then it wasn't a wider sense of trouble. It was just some secret of Ada's – probably about a boy.

"Look," Ada continued, "He's never spanked you before now so he's not going to start. If I get caught that's my problem, I won't bring you into it, I promise – alright?"

"No Ada it's not bloody alright. It's not just about me keeping it from him, it's about you being safe – you heard what he said on Saturday."

"You're being paranoid."

"If I am and you talk to him about it then it'll be no big deal so there'll be nothing to worry about and it'll set my mind at ease."

"You're letting Tommy get into your head."

"Yeah maybe I am Ada, but better in my head than on both of our arses!"

He suppressed a chuckle.

"Look, I'll talk to him, alright? Stop flapping. Let me do it myself though, okay?"

"Well just hurry up and do it sooner rather than later – I know he can be sour, but he cares about you, he just wants you to be safe."

"I'd rather be exciting than safe."

"Yeah, but that's the bloody problem Ada, isn't it? And I prefer my backside safe, I really don't fancy my chances against your brother's temper."

"Tommy doesn't have a temper," Ada replied, "Arthur's got the temper, Tommy never loses it. He just gets all quiet when he's angry – he doesn't lose his temper."

"Ada!"

"I'll talk to Tommy, I swear. Just don't tell him before I do, okay?"

"I'm not a squealer Ada, but talk to him soon, alright?"

Tommy smirked and walked away, shaking his head at the two of them and wondering what on earth it was Ada was going to ask him about.

He was quite touched at Rosie's urging of Ada to talk to him – and he didn't fully believe that it was only because she didn't fancy finding herself turned over his knee. He was sure she was genuinely concerned for his sister, but he trusted her judgement. If she'd been truly worried, he was sure she'd have bypassed Ada and come to him already. She wasn't an idiot. And he supposed she understood – she spent her days worrying about Lily the same way he spent his worrying about all of them.

He sat at the kitchen table, swirling whisky around a glass, but she didn't appear for a while – until he had almost finished it and was on his third cigarette.

"Didn't think you were coming back down," he said, keeping his voice nonchalant.

"Ada's a bit mad I didn't tell her about my birthday – was trying to smooth things over," she told him with a small smile.

"And are they smooth?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and wondering if she was about to tell him what the discussion he'd overhead had been about.

"More or less. I think the idea of her taking me shopping on Saturday helps," she said wryly, "Though after I hate everything she picks I don't know how enjoyable it'll be."

"Just take Polly's hairbrush and whack her with it if she annoys you."

"Aye so I will – so she can bludgeon me with it," she replied rolling her eyes, "That's how I've always wanted to go – head caved in by angry teenager with her aunt's hairbrush."

"Well if she gives you any trouble you let me know."

"I can handle Ada."

He nodded over the glass at her, "Good. You going to sit?"

She shook her head, "No, I'm tired – I just wanted to say goodnight."

He tried not to let his disappointment show on his face.

"Alright," he said, with a slight bravado, gesturing with the cigarette towards the living room, in the direction of the door, "I'm going out for a bit, so I'll lock up before I go."

She nodded and turned to go up the stairs, then changed her mind, turned back, came up behind his chair and pressed her lips very gently to his cheek, "Thank you Tom."

"I haven't given you your present yet," he said, turning his head to look over his shoulder at her.

She smiled, "I had a nice night though. And it was a good cake."

He stubbed out the cigarette, then stood up and took her hand, "Come on a minute," he said, leading her back up the stairs and leaving her standing at the top whilst he went into his room.

"These aren't for your birthday – they're for your idea," he told her, handing her the books when he reappeared, "I asked for romance for a woman who didn't like fantasy. Though there's a ghost in one of them I think - and I don't know how you feel about ghosts."

"I love these," she said, looking up at him, "I- I got them out the library before. But I've never owned them."

"If you've read them already we can go get something else?" he suggested, his voice sticking in his throat a little at the look in her eyes.

She shook her head, "No. These are my favourite books I've ever read - I've read them all over and over, I'd never tire of them."

"Even the ghost one?"

"Especially the ghost one."

"Good," he replied, nodding, unable to summon more words than that.

"They're not really romances though, was it a man who said they were?"

"Uhuh."

She snorted, "That makes sense. You know this one," she brandished The Tenant of Wildfell Hall at him, "Is basically famous among women's lib supporters for being the first of its kind?"

"I didn't know that," he said, keeping his face blank as he watched her.

She nodded, and turned her eyes back down to the volumes, tracing her fingers tracing reverently over their leather covers.

"Thank you," she said, her voice soft and quiet.

She had said thank you to everyone, for everything. For the pyjamas and the robe they'd got her, for the slippers he knew she would discard in favour of tucking her feet under him, for chocolates and the sweets. And he was sure she had genuinely meant her thanks. But there was a reverence to the way she looked at the books, and her thanks for them seemed to come from her very soul. It was more than he could cope with.

"You're welcome," he said, clearing his throat, "I'll see you tomorrow."

He practically ran down the stairs, leaving her at the top with the books, watching him go. His entire face felt like an inferno. Her small touch had spread across him like wildfire. He loved her. God he loved her. He'd keep her safe.

The door slammed behind him in his haste.

Charlie wasn't home yet so he went to the yard, finding him sitting by a fire and smoking.

"Cheers for warning me that you'd tell Polly," his uncle said sarcastically upon his approach, "Had her down this afternoon shrieking at me to get them moved as soon as the moon waned."

"I wasn't planning to tell her," he replied.

"She told me there's a new copper coming – a new Chief Inspector."

Tommy didn't reply.

"Is he coming for the guns Tom?"

Tommy took his time taking a cigarette out of his case and lighting up before telling his uncle, "I reckon he's looking for communists."

He did reckon Campbell was going to be looking for communists. It was just that he probably thought that the communists came with the guns.

Charlie nodded and stared into the fire.

"New copper arrives this week," Tommy told his uncle, "Dump the guns on Saturday, I'll get some of the boys to start a fight over in Nechells to take the coppers' attention over there."

"Dump them where Tom?"

"Somewhere they'll be found that we won't be traced to."

"Is that a bit of sense I hear coming from you?" Charlie said, moving his head to look at him.

"Just figure somewhere out, I'm leaving it to you, I can't be here - I've got dinner plans."

"Dinner plans?" Charlie snorted.

"Yeah," Tommy nodded, his face blank, "Important dinner plans."

Thank you for all the messages and reviews, they really do make my day when I see them coming through!

Like a lot of people I've been in talks about the going back to the office process this week so I've been busier than normal - not sure exactly what the decisions are at this point but I'll continue to write as much as I can and post as often as I can. If it becomes a case of I can't commit to multiple updates a week I'll let you guys know and I'll set a schedule so you know when updates are coming on set day(s) each week or whatever, but at the moment I'll just continue to post as I get bits written.