Tommy spotted the youngest of his siblings walking down Watery Lane. She was tucked under the scrawny arm of Isiah Jesus. The Reverend's boy was a few years older than the twins but he had accepted them into his crew anyhow, not that Isiah had had much of a choice in the matter. Clara and Finn had long ago taken to following the boy around the neighborhood whether he had wanted it or not.

Now fourteen, Isiah was old enough to know that he should treat Clara Shelby well even when her twin brother teased, taunted or ignored her. He was old enough to know that the Shelby's had an expectation that their little sister would be taken care of by those who knew them. They had an expectation that she would be watched over and protected. That was why he was intent on walking her home after Finn decided that the rest of the boys were going to play by the cut.

"You want to deal with them if something happens to her?" Isiah asked when Finn insisted they just leave her to find her own way home.

Finn shrugged, kicking at a rock on the ground. His sister was already making her way down Watery Lane, not even looking back at them once she had been told to go home.

"That's why girls should just stay home."

Isiah raised an eyebrow at Finn's remark, his body already half turned to follow after Clara. He glanced at her now. Clara had stopped and sent a fierce look their way. Isiah took a step away from Finn.

"Go on ahead. I'll catch up," he said.

Clara half-heartedly fought Isiah when he slowed beside her. She pushed his hand away, insisting she was no longer a child in need of an escort. Isiah sighed as he took his hand away.

Clara stood in front of him with her hands pushed into her coat pockets.

"I'd feel better knowing you got home safe," he said.

"Why do you care?"

Clara looked up to him now, her voice elevated and her height suddenly seemed an inch or so taller.

"Because Mr. Shelby'll have my arse and Finn's if something ever happened to you."

"I can take care of myself, Isiah."

"I know that, Clara, but your brothers don't and anyway, you're meant to tell me about that book you've been reading."

"Tommy took it away," she said, bowing her head. "And he told me to go play but now Finn won't let me."

When Isiah placed an arm around her shoulders a second time, Clara's small frame slumped and she allowed him to lead the way. Clara wasn't paying attention to Isiah, simply allowing him to lead her towards home as she became lost in thought.

"Chin up, Clara. Let's see one of those brilliant smiles of yours, eh?"

She shook her head.

"Just let it be, Siah."

"You know he's just showin' off," Isiah offered as he watched her stare down at her feet, eyebrows knitted in frustration.

"Well, that's foolish and I don't much like him anymore. I don't much like any of them."

Isiah was quiet. He was an only child and had never experienced any of the difficulties the Shelby's did. There were six Shelby kids and Isiah had learned from a far that brothers and sisters were an overwhelmingly messy business. He mostly found he didn't mind that it was just him and his father at home. Clara envied Isiah that quiet home life and it wasn't out of the ordinary to find her at the home of the Jesus family when she wanted a break from the Shelby's. Clara quite liked the Reverend and the thought of having a papa. She couldn't remember much of her own papa, but watching Isiah with the Reverend helped paint a picture of what may have been.

"You don't mean it."

"I do. You're a better brother than Finn is, Siah."

"I'm not your brother, Clara. You've got more than enough of 'em without me. Four of 'em. And if I'm your brother you'd have to do what I tell ya and you never do."

Clara unenthusiastically shoved him in the side before returning to the monotonous yet seemingly all-consuming action of scuffing her boots on the dirty cobblestones.

"And don't you worry about Finn. It's just a phase," Isiah said.

She let the idea settle in her mind. Clara often took what Isiah said to heart because he was older and she considered him to be pretty smart as far as boys go. She knew Isiah wasn't as smart as Tommy, but she knew he was smarter than Finn, maybe smarter than Arthur and John on some things too. And even though Isiah teased her from time to time, he had a long history of looking out for Clara's interests.

Tommy had been on his way to the pub for a drink when he saw the pair making their way down the street. From afar Tommy had watched Clara scuffing her new black boots in the dirt as Isiah guided her along.

"What's 'just a phase'?" he asked, stepping up to the pair as he lit a cigarette.

Isiah dropped his arm from Clara's shoulders and for a moment both kids stared at the same patch of muddy cobblestone. Despite the closeness of their families and the level of privilege Isiah had shared with the Shelby's since the war, Tommy still made him hesitant. Isiah had been privy to too much of what the Shelby family was capable of.

Tommy took a puff and raised an eyebrow.

Isiah cleared his throat, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

"I was just walking her home, Mr. Shelby, sir."

Tommy nodded once. "Thank you, Isiah. I've got it from here."

Isiah nodded once and muttered a quiet goodbye before taking his leave, running with long legs towards the cut. Tommy looked down at his sister, pulling the cigarette from his mouth as Clara resumed looking to her feet.

"You finished playing with the boys?"

Clara shrugged.

"What were you and Isiah talking about?"

"It's nothing, Tommy," she answered.

"Mhmm. Isiah's right, Clara. Finn's just going through a phase, but if he's not treating you right, you tell someone and we'll set the boy straight."

"Finn didn't do anything," she insisted.

"Is that right?" he asked.

Clara nodded but it wasn't particularly convincing.

"Well, have you held up your end of the deal, Miss Shelby?" he asked.

Tommy had set out with every intention of just having a drink. He had made a mental note take Clara to get a book another day but seeing her now he figured the drink could wait. Clara had all but forgotten about the deal made hours earlier, lost after an afternoon running along with the boys.

"I've been good all day like you said. Even when Finn was being mean. Are we going now?"

"I thought you told me Finn didn't anything," he said, pulling her back to him after she had taken his hand, intent on dragging him along to the book shop.

"He was only a little mean."

"I see, then he doesn't need a talking to?"

"No!" she answered almost too quickly for Tommy's liking. He supposed that Finn did need a talking to but Clara didn't want it to be on her account.

"Alright then, but no more lying to your brother. If you're asked something, you tell the truth, is that understood?"

Clara nodded, not liking that by protecting Finn she was the one getting chastised.

"Off we go then, Clara girl."

He nodded in the direction of the shop and Clara set off at a fast pace, tugging at the hand she was still holding.

"Slow down," he said, laughing as she pulled against him.

"But the shop closes at five and it's already past four."

Clara's body made a forty-five-degree angle with the ground as she leaned away from Tommy's firmly rooted form.

"We have plenty of time and I'll not have you running wild through the streets."

Clara scoffed, standing herself up straight and reluctantly waiting for Tommy to set their pace.

"What did you do today?" he asked.

"I just had to follow around the boys since you took my book away," she answered.

Tommy watched as she continued to scuff her boots. He should have chided her on Pol's behalf but he let it go.

"My book?" Tommy said, squeezing the little hand inside his so that she looked up to him.

"Well, your book," she corrected.

Tommy nodded. "Better. So, you were off with the boys all day?"

"Until Finn said they were going to the cut and I cou—" she grumbled, stopping herself when she realized that again Tommy had lulled her into telling him things she hadn't meant to.

Tommy let out a puff of smoke and Clara stopped walking.

"Why can't I help you in the shop? Or go out like Ada? Or go play by the cut like Finn?"

"I don't ever want you going out like our Ada does," he said, not hiding the bit of laughter that came with it. "You're a respectable lady, Clara. And the family business isn't for little ladies either for that matter."

As for trusting Finn to watch over their sister while they played by the cut, Tommy couldn't be sure of that. Isiah Jesus was correct. The kid was going through a phase, pushing his twin sister away, constantly putting her down, especially in front of his horde of friends. Tommy supposed he had done similarly to Ada at that age. But Small Heath was different now and it wasn't safe for a little girl to go play without someone watching over her. Tommy wished that she would just accept things for the way they were but Clara was looking up at him with arms folded tight across her little chest.

"Aunt Pol let me help. I have an accounting mind and neat penmanship, you know?"

One of her dusty boots slammed into the cobblestone.

"Oh, you have an accounting mind and neat penmanship, do you?" Tommy asked, chuckling at Pol's words being recycled through the mouth of his ten-year-old sister.

Tommy still couldn't fathom that his aunt had had the little ones helping with the business. He tried to picture the twins in the office, taking down orders from the rough, scruffy men of Small Heath, being there when fights broke out, and listening to their coarse talk. He was surprised Finn and Clara had any innocence left in them at all.

"Yes, I do, Tommy," she answered seriously.

"Someday you'll use those skills, but for now, you be a kid. Let your brother take care of the counting."

"But I like counting."

Tommy laughed to himself, steering her towards the front door of the shop. Upon entering Tommy had directed Clara to the small section of books meant for children near the back.

"I'm much too old for these, Thomas."

He took a deep breath with the announcing of his full name. He remembered the days when his baby sister had been relatively easy. She had always been a bit on the feisty side, a product of being a Shelby, but now she had a hint of what he believed to be an overly developed and at times, annoyingly matter-of-fact attitude.

"Since when?" he asked.

"Since I'm to be eleven. I'm not a child anymore. I want to read those books."

Clara pointed to the Sherlock Holmes books on the shelf near the front.

"What did Aunt Pol say about those books?"

Tommy had overheard the conversation. Clara had earned herself a swat from Pol over the whole thing. She was persistent if nothing else.

"She said that a little girl has no need to read of murder and detectives but—"

"And what need does a little girl have to read of murder and detectives?"

Clara scowled.

"Tommy, I don't want to read the baby books anymore. They're not a challenge."

Tommy sighed. He knew that was true. Though he told his sister that she was too little for the books he kept on his own shelf, it was merely on the basis of subject matter. She was more than capable of getting through the words.

"Please, Tommy. It's all I want," she said, "And you've missed..."

Clara hadn't intended on saying the second part out loud and she allowed the words trail away before finishing the thought.

Tommy nodded his head but didn't say anything.

Clara turned away from him, picking up a book from the children's shelves and holding out it out to him.

"We can get this one," she said gently.

Tommy took the book from her hand and placed it back on the shelf before going down on a single knee in front of his sister. He placed his hands on her arms and looked into her eyes. Tears had escaped to streak down both cheeks but she was quiet.

"I've missed four of your birthdays but I'm home now and I will not be missing another."

Clara nodded, wiping at her cheeks with the sleeve of her coat.

"Clara?" he prompted.

"Are you certain you won't have to go back?"

"I'm certain. The war is good and over."

"And Arthur won't make you go away?"

Tommy rolled his eyes. She must've overheard it earlier in the shop. Arthur couldn't keep his mouth shut no matter who was listening.

"Arthur has no say in where I go or what I do."

"But he's your big brother."

"And I love him dearly but Arthur doesn't tell me what to do… Clara, you listen to me. We're home for good."

Tommy's words acted as a form of release and Clara latched her arms around his neck. When her tears showed no signs of stopping, Tommy pulled his sister up in his arms. He walked towards the front of the store and pointed to the books displayed in the front window.

"All of them, sir?" the shopkeeper asked.

Tommy nodded once.

"Have them wrapped and sent round by Monday."

The shopkeeper made quick work of removing them from the display.

"Yes, Mr. Shelby, sir."

By the time Clara had cried herself to sleep in her brother's arms, they were approaching Watery Lane. Tommy had had this conversation with Clara more than once since being home. It was becoming clear that after all this time, she quite obviously didn't believe that the boys weren't going back to France. Tommy couldn't blame her. There were nights when he still didn't believe that the war was over himself.