Polly watched as Clara tapped her fingers lightly on the dining room table. She was making only the slightest bit of noise but it was still distracting Polly from her reading so she cleared her throat.

"Maybe I'll just go and—"

"You let your sister rest," Polly said, fixing her niece with a look over the top of her newspaper. Polly was still comfortably clothed in her robes and bed clothes from the night before. Clara was dressed for the day at Charlie Strong's yard, which meant that she was donning some old trousers of her twin's and one of her brother's caps. She looked like one of the boys from Watery Lane. Polly had already braided her hair, a long blonde plait falling over her shoulder.

"Resting is all Ada ever does."

"Your sister had a long night and you should be kind to her."

Clara slumped down to rest her chin on folded arms. Polly didn't miss the girl's narrowed eyes but let it slide. Polly liked that the little girl had a spine. A woman needed one as a Shelby.

"You could bring me then," Clara said, the words barely making their way to Polly's ears before Clara turned away from her.

"Excuse me?" Polly glanced at Clara.

"You're not busy…and it's not much past church."

When Clara finally met her aunt's eyes, she mumbled a softened request. "Please?"

Polly tossed the paper down in front of her and sat up straighter in the chair. "The way I see it, you shouldn't be anywhere near those horses after what happened. You should be right back in that bed resting or on your way to school. If you're well enough to go the yard, you're well enough to be back to classes."

"But Tommy said—"

"Oh yes, but Thomas said," Polly answered, waving her off with a hand.

Polly was well aware of what her nephew had said in regards to his youngest sister. For one, he had seen to it that the coppers who hurt their girl and the Jesus boy were taken care of. And then there was the matter of Clara's injuries. Tommy wanted to keep her home from school for the week, claiming the family didn't need to be answering any questions about the bruises covering the girl's face and body. Beyond that, he had ordered a round the clock supervision for her. Clara wasn't aware of anything other than a little extra attention while her body healed. Though she didn't agree with him bringing her to the stables, Polly couldn't argue with Tommy on the other items.

Ada was meant to be walking to the yard with Clara, serving as her unofficial morning escort as the boys were busy elsewhere on Blinder business. Tommy had been there since a bit before dawn but seeing as Clara was still recovering, he had let her sleep. However, her continued slumber hadn't lasted much past the time Tommy headed out through the front door. Even in what most would consider an infirmed state, Clara was an early riser. Like Polly and Thomas, she had the curse of waking much too early in a family that bred chronically late risers. Ada, John, Arthur, and Finn all enjoyed a good, late lie in most days.

After getting dressed for the day, Clara had come back to the front sitting room to wake the boys. Both Finn and Isaiah had spent the better part of the weekend with her, sleeping over on the couches and floor, keeping her company when the others ordered for her to sit and rest. It had been like the days during the war, except her older brothers were in and out of the house all weekend.

Clara had made breakfast for the three of them before sending Isiah on his way back home. The way Clara saw it, she and her brother had horse business to attend to and there wasn't much in the world she would allow to get in the way of that. Tommy had left a note telling her to have Ada bring 'round to the yard when she woke up, but no later than nine.

When she finally received Polly's approval, Clara climbed up the stairs with a plate of bread and jam and a small cup of tea for her sister. She hadn't waited for an answer after tapping on the bedroom door with the toe of her shoe. Ada usually liked to groan loudly or toss something in the direction of the bedroom door but Clara didn't hear signs of either action now.

Ada was up and dressed in an old dress with a thick sweater pulled tightly across her chest. She barely glanced up when Clara came through the door, depositing the tray on a bed that didn't look to be slept in. Clara joined her sister by the window, trying to see whatever Ada was seeing down on Watery Lane. As far as Clara could see, the streets were empty and the sky was nothing more than a hazy grey.

"Do you remember Martha being pregnant the last time? With little Robbie?"

Ada was still looking out the window. Clara thought about it before deciding that she didn't remember as much as she thought about that time. It had been in the immediate aftermath of the boys leaving for war. The family hadn't even known Martha was pregnant when Arthur, Tommy, and John had left for France. She supposed if she thought hard enough, she remembered Martha having a swollen belly under her dress. But Clara had been just about to turn six.

"You and Finn were still little," Ada finally conceded, "But I remember her always wanting these biscuits that John had gotten for her when she was pregnant with Katie. And the bakery that made them had closed, so you and Finn helped me make them here."

Clara thought maybe the reason she didn't clearly remember her sister-in-law Martha being pregnant was because during most of her childhood, John's wife had been in that precise condition. It would be odder for Clara to remember Martha when she wasn't with child.

"I don't remember that."

A smile briefly passed Ada's lips.

"Our mother had to have bacon cakes and chocolate one right after the other. She said that's how she knew there were two of you. And that you each had different tastes."

Ada remembered the birth of the twins like it was yesterday. It had been the day that she was no longer the baby of the family and the day that she gained an automatic ally in the form of a sister. While the Shelby's waited for their mother to give birth, Arthur reminded each of his siblings of their own entrances into the world. He, like Aunt Polly, had been around for each of their births, which was more than Arthur Shelby, Sr. could say.

Tommy had been born in the wee hours of the morning and had been wrapped in a bundle of blankets at the table with his mother when Arthur came down for his breakfast. John had been a lengthy, difficult birth near lunchtime. Ada had been a morning birth as well, quick and easy because she was so small. Ada had always liked when Arthur told the stories of the Shelby kids' births, his face beaming with pride as he spoke of the brothers and sisters he was pleased to call his own. She liked imagining her older brothers as babies. The stories even brought a hint of a smile to Tommy's face.

It wasn't too long into Arthur's storytelling that a cry rang out from the other room and Ada ran to the door to wait for their Aunt Polly to emerge. Finn was an exceptionally large baby, coming near eleven o'clock that night.

"Well, that explains why Mum was so bloody large this time," John had said when Polly announced that there was another babe coming, making Ada giggle. Mrs. Shelby had been large, even by pregnancy standards. Tommy smacked John in the back of the head just then.

"Shut it, John. Ada, maybe you should be in there helping." Tommy nodded towards the room where their mother was groaning loud enough for them to hear. "You can see for yourself what kissing all those boys will do to you."

Ada's face got serious under Tommy's stare, the prospect of her mother swollen with two babies no longer funny.

Arthur held baby Finn in his arms, doting on the little boy as they waited for a second baby to arrive. Ada sat close but couldn't have gotten her hands on the baby if she tried. He would be lost to the land of brothers and with everything Ada had in her, she wished for a little sister to come next.

Tommy had been wishing to be on his way out to the pub for a dance by this time but it seemed like the newest Shelby's were on a mission to keep that from happening. Tommy was relatively ambivalent about the idea of more kids. He was eighteen and though he still lived at home, it no longer felt like his mother's new babies were to be his siblings. Mrs. Shelby had been weak before the pregnancy, what one would readily describe as sickly. Tommy was fairly certain that bearing children wouldn't help things. With their father largely absent, Arthur and Thomas had already picked up some of the slack with Ada and John, but babies were different. They would be more work.

Despite the absence of a decent male role model to show them the way of things, Arthur and Tommy knew how to care for their own. To Tommy's current dismay, he knew that may ultimately mean missing a date which he knew for sure would have ended well for him in order to be around when the babies were born.

"Are they still twins if they're born on different days?" Ada asked, leaning over Arthur's arm to rub her finger against little Finn's cheek. It was already nearing midnight and there was no sign of the second baby.

"Yes, Ada," Tommy answered. He had taken up post leaning against the mantel of the fireplace, smoking one of his cigarettes, still close to the door as if he would be heading out in a moment.

"Do you think the other one might be a girl?" Ada said.

"Aunt Pol seems to think so," Tommy said, finally accepting that his date wasn't happening and plopping down beside his siblings on the couch. "And it seems she'll be a thorn in my side just like you."

Polly had known it was twins for quite some time, had known that she was due both a nephew and a niece, but she had only let her sister-in-law and Tommy know it. The mother-to-be had a right to know. And Tommy had asked Polly outright whereas the other kids hadn't.

Thomas had used the information purely for planning purposes. Brothers would grow up to be Peaky Blinders someday. Sisters would be a bit more work. If the girl was smart, someone would need to pay for her school, and she would need marrying, more protection along the way. With their father gone, that responsibility would fall to the eldest brothers. Tommy accepted it as his own obligation without discussing it with his Arthur or John. Someone needed to pay for the babies, raise them up to be good Shelby's. Tommy let Arthur, John, and Ada coddle and coo at the small bundle they passed back and forth, knowing full well that the hard things would belong to him, their mother, and Polly.

It was well into the early morning hours when Polly emerged from the room with a small, nearly silent bundle. She quickly handed it off to Thomas, the only one still awake in the room.

"Here's our girl, Thomas," Polly said to him before she began barking orders at the others who were slowly waking up.

"John, run get Dr. Coyle. Ada, I need you in here."

Ada and John did as they were told without complaint while Thomas and Arthur remained in the front sitting room, two newborn Shelby's in their arms.

When John returned, out of breath and red in the face, the doctor was allowed in the room but Pol shooed the boys away.

"Pol," Thomas snapped, a hand pushing back against the wood when she tried to shut the door.

"Tommy, your mother'll be alright. Just tend to your brothers and sisters."

Mrs. Shelby had been alright as she could be after losing that much blood, at least for a time. She hadn't made it to see the twins turn one but she had had some good months with them. Even if she had gone what Tommy had considered wonky in the end, rambling about the spirits, he had always told the kids about their mother, making sure they knew who had brought them into the world, who had loved them more than she cared for herself.

Clara listened to Ada talk about their mother and about the day she and Finn had been born as if she had never heard the story before. The story told different depending on which Shelby was telling it, each person's recollection of the time marred by their age or perception.

Ada didn't bother to tell her little sister what Polly had told her the night before, that their mother had considered not having the twins. She had said it after Ada made it known she wouldn't get rid of the baby growing inside of her. "A sentimental fool just like your mother," Polly had said.

Ada released a whimper at the thought. She couldn't imagine their home without the twins, without her only sister.

"Ada?"

Clara didn't ever remember seeing Ada like this. Her sister was characteristically dramatic but something in this was more genuine, more painful than Clara was useful. Ada didn't speak right away but her eyes, blue and pooling with the beginnings of tears, bore into Clara's.

"I'm going to have a baby, Clara."

Clara hugged her sister close and Ada hugged her back for a long time, neither one saying a word as Clara diligently rubbed circles on Ada's back and kissed her sister's head. When Ada finally backed away, she rubbed her eyes.

"Freddie's the father," she conceded though Clara hadn't asked.

"I know," Clara said, clasping her hand over Ada's.

The boys could make all the jokes they wanted about Ada going around with the boys but Clara knew that Freddie was the only rumor with any real clout. Freddie Thorne had always been Ada's boy.

"Freddie's a good man, Ada. He'll come home."

Ada forced a smile at her younger, wishing that her sister's confidence could be contagious. Ada pulled the girl in for a hug once more. It had been more welcoming than Polly's had been the night before, more genuine and warmer.

"Congratulations, Ada."

Clara had mumbled the words into her sister's shoulder as she was being squeezed against. Confusion passed over Ada's features for a moment as she considered the word. Confirmation of her pregnancy, of the life she would be bringing into this world had been nothing close to a celebration and Ada took a deep breath to let that sink in. She pulled away from the hug, placing her cool hands to Clara's cheeks.

"Let's get you over to Uncle Charlie's."

"Where are you going to go?"

Ada shrugged. "There's a picture at noon."

"I'll come with you."

"I'm supposed to drop you with Tommy."

"Ada, I'd rather be with you."