When the news that the Garrison had been bombed reached Thomas Shelby's ears, he wasted no time in escorting his wife, child, and aunt into the car before getting in once they were all settled. He watched Cora grab a handkerchief from her coat pocket and gently squeezed his son's nose, slightly smirking when his son squirmed in her lap as he tried to turn his face away. If she had noticed the change in his facial expression, she made no comment.
"I want you to stay in the car," Thomas ordered as they arrived at the Garrison, and he opened the door for Polly. Cora gave him a silent nod, more focused on wiping her son's nose than listening to Tommy, and he took that as a sign of understanding.
Since the car had open windows, he made sure that they were parked far enough away from the burning building but close enough that he could keep an eye on them. If there was still any sort of gas in the air, he didn't want Oliver inhaling it and getting ill. Not only would that be a nightmare for the two of them, but Oliver would most likely not make it through the night depending on what gas it was.
Cora didn't bother to refuse or rebel against Tommy's orders. She, too, didn't want to put Oliver in harm's way and turned him so that he was facing her instead of the windows. The wind from the storm was only propelling the smoke towards them and Cora wrinkled her nose at the smell. Cora couldn't help but stare at Tommy and Polly as the rain mercilessly beat down on them as Oliver became rather occupied with her pear necklace—one that Tommy had gotten her a year after Oliver had been born.
"Mummy," Oliver's soft voice called and Cora looked down at her son, a smile creeping on her face as his light blue eyes shined brightly with joy and innocence, "I'm thirsty."
"You can have some juice when we get home, love," Cora said, soothing back Oliver's unruly black curls—something that she knew he had gotten from her.
When Cora was little, her hair always twisted into loose ringlets no matter how hard her mother tried to keep them straight. Her father would always laugh as her mother fussed around her, pulling her hair and groaning in frustration as the blonde locks bounced back into a spiral. It was her father who finally got her mother to adore the curls in her hair, saying 'those curls make her look like she is the princess she's meant to be'.
Cora softly smiled and ran her fingers through Oliver's hair, giggling when the curls bounced back, just like hers did.
"Where's Daddy?" Oliver asked, looking around the empty car as he realized for the first time, that his father wasn't there with him, "Where's Auntie?"
"Right there." Cora pointed out the window and towards the two adults, her action somehow catching Tommy's attention and causing him to turn to her, "Why don't you wave to Daddy?"
Oliver quickly began waving his arm wildly, a beaming smile crossing his face when Tommy gave a nod of acknowledgment, and Cora could see the smile in Tommy's eyes. Tommy wasn't one to show Oliver affection in public. He feared that if someone saw him show Oliver any affection, they would use that against him by either destroying his reputation or by taking Oliver. Cora thought that Tommy was being ridiculous. Who would dare try and take Thomas Shelby's son?
It seemed as though whatever conversation Polly and Tommy were having came to an abrupt end for the two were quickly making their way towards the car. Cora slid across the seats so that her hip rested against the farthest door as Polly and Tommy joined her in the car. Cora blinked in surprise when the weight of Oliver was relieved and Tommy placed him in his lap, wrapping his arm securely around Oliver's waist and listening patiently as the young boy blabbered on.
Cora ignored the soft flutter in her stomach as she stared at the two of them. Oliver was seated so that he was facing Tommy and, as he babbled on, he reached to grab Tommy's cap. Both adults reacted at the same time; Cora reached forward, Oliver's name on the tip of her tongue, while Tommy took off his cap and held the back of it towards Oliver so that his hand was covering the hidden blade.
Oliver was unaware of the current commotion that had just occurred and stared at the cap curiously before deciding that it held no interest. Tommy slipped his cap back on and continued to listen to Oliver talk, nodding every now-and-then as his eyes looked through the car's window.
~8~
"Ameliaranne seemed to be terribly hungry, for her plate was nearly always empty; but, though she did not reach out and help herself, she never allowed to wait long," Cora's soft voice melodiously carried throughout the room as the fireplace crackled. Oliver pressed himself closer to his mother's chest, resting his head on her breast as he struggled to keep his eyes opening and look at the pictures that were in front of him.
Ameliaranne and The Green Umbrella had become Oliver's favorite book the moment Tommy had gifted him it. There was no real occasion for the gift, it wasn't Oliver's birthday nor was it Christmas. When Cora asked him about it later, Tommy had only said that he saw it on the way home and bought it. Cora had made it a routine to read Oliver a book before his nap and before he went to bed—that was if he wasn't already asleep.
Glancing down, Cora gently smiled at Oliver before standing up and placing him on her hip. She ignored his murmured groans of protest as he rubbed his face into her shoulder, most surely smearing it with snot.
"I think it's time you had your nap." Cora tenderly said once she reached her room. At the sound of Oliver's rhythmic, relaxed breathing, she carefully placed him in the crib that rested next to her bed and the wall. Tommy had been very flexible with mostly anything Cora said, but when she placed the crib under the window, he had put his foot down.
Cora couldn't help but admire her son as he slept.
He was the perfect combination of both her and Tommy. With Tommy's eyes and hair color, and with Cora's nose, smile, and personality, there was no doubt in her mind that Oliver was going to be a charmer. Especially if he still had curls. Rubbing her thumb softly across Oliver's cheek, Cora almost melted when Oliver leaned into her touch. A frown marred her face as Oliver brought his left thumb into his mouth and she knew that the habit had to end before he turned four.
Oliver was her sanity in the crazed life of the Shelby's.
She had to protect him from the monsters that hid in the alleyways of the streets and that lurked around their house at night. With Tommy, she knew Oliver was safe—as crazy as that sounded. But Tommy had men that were willing to risk their life for him and his family.
"Cora," Cora didn't bother to turn away from Oliver as Polly called her name. She only hummed in response and waited for Polly to continue, "They're always so peaceful when they sleep."
Looking up, Cora smiled at Polly as she made her way over to her godson. Reaching a hand down, Polly brushed back the dark curls that matted Oliver's forehead.
"He looks so much like Tommy," Polly muttered to herself, but Cora heard it anyway. It seemed as though she could hear everything now a day. From the silence of the room next to hers to a baby crying a few doors down, Cora could hear it all.
"Yeah," Cora agreed.
"But there's no doubt in my fucking mind that he has his mother's personality." Polly continued before both women snorted.
"What gave it away?" Cora playfully asked, reaching down and placing a kiss on Oliver's forehead before moving away from the crib and stalking towards the fireplace that rested on the other side of the room.
"Just the way he looks at the world as though he only sees the good in it," Polly continued and she pulled her hand away, resting her hip against the crib and crossing her arms.
"He's two, Pol. He doesn't know any better."
"I've raised these Shelby's since they were babes and not once have any of them looked around them with so much joy," Polly cut her off, her voice sharp and not leaving any room to argue. Cora sighed in response and pulled the dark purple shawl tighter around her.
"What has Tommy done now?" Cora asked wearily, rubbing underneath her eyes before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She wore it down more often now. The blonde strands just touching her shoulder blades as the front of her hair was pulled back by a clip.
Tommy had been shocked at first. Even though his face didn't convey anything, she could see it in his eyes. How they widened as she walked down the stairs before relaxing and seeming as if nothing had occurred. The only reason she wore it down was because Oliver liked to hide his face in her neck when he met new people, and her hair helped block his view.
Polly wasted no time in answering, "He went to the Black Lion."
"Is there something you expect me to do?" Cora finally asked after a few moments of silence. She didn't know why Tommy had gone there, she didn't know if she was supposed to know, and she didn't know who was there.
"No," Polly stated, "But I want you to watch him for me. He's playing a dangerous game, right now, and I don't think he realizes that Oliver's life is now part of the game."