Chapter Thirteen
Till The Sun Turns Black

The house was silent as they entered through the front door. Martha observed Tommy's family sitting around the living room, their expressions blank and solemn. No one uttered a word as each of them individually tried to process the events that unfolded. They watched Martha closely as Arthur led her into the house, all of them taking note of her appearance. They all wondered the same thing: what had happened exactly?

Tommy was stable for the most part. They had been able to stabilise him as best as they could, but they all knew that anything could happen. His condition could worsen over time and death would be inevitable. Arthur had seen it happen in the war. Men were up and fighting one day, get hit with a bullet and seem fine and in good spirits then the next day, they were being carried out of the tent, cold and dead.

Life was cruel no matter how good of a person you were.

Arthur led Martha upstairs and along the small corridor to Tommy's room, as if she had not been there before. As he opened the door, she was able to see that the room was engulfed with sunshine which for her was ironic. When her world was dark and bleak, the world around her was bright. Arthur stepped aside allowing Martha entry into the room. Aunt Pol stood by the fireplace, her eyes worryingly stuck on the unconscious Tommy as he lay unmoving on his bed. It took her a moment to register that Martha had entered the room but as soon as she saw her, the anger within her began to rise. She crossed the room quickly, and smacked Martha across the face.

Arthur pulled Aunt Pol away from the young woman. Martha stood in silence, a hand placed upon her cheek as heat radiated from the force of the smack. Tears stung her eyes as the shock overwhelmed her.

"Enough," Arthur warned, to which Aunt Pol nodded and stepped away. "Tommy wouldn't want that."

She wrapped her arms around her body in an attempt to calm and comfort herself as she watched the woman stood in silence. Martha understood the anger that Aunt Pol was feeling, she really did.

"I'm so sorry for what happened," Martha whispered, her voice low but audible to the both of them. "We were leaving together, and there was a gunshot that came out of nowhere. I didn't know that Michael had a gun on him. I didn't know he was going to do that, I really didn't."

"You could've just let him get on with his life," Aunt Pol said bitterly. "You could've continued to live your perfect life and never darkened Tommy's life again."

"Coming from the person who told me he was dead," Martha bit back.

Aunt Pol fell silent. She stared at Martha for a moment, trying to think of what to say back.

"Why did you do that?" Martha asked. "Why ruin both of our lives in that way?"

When only silence filled the room, Martha shook her head sadly. "This is not the time nor the place for this. Tommy does not deserve this. I will never ever forgive myself for putting him in harm's way like that again. I love him so much."

"I know you do," Aunt Pol whispered. "But this-" she said, pointing to Tommy unconscious and wounded on his bed. "-this is because of you. If you hadn't come back in his life, he would be just fine."

Martha nodded, sadly. She had thought about it for a while, wondering if her return to Birmingham was doing more bad than good. The very fact that Tommy was alive made her feel saddened due to the many years that had passed them by. They had both lost out on so much that it made Martha question whether or not it was the right thing in staying. Was it better to stick her head in the sand and continue on with her life? Or was it better to leave his life and let him have that chance of finding his own destiny? Her feelings towards him had never changed, for it was certain that time changed nothing. She loved him with every inch of her being, but was she holding him back?

"We'll leave the two of ya alone," Arthur broke the silence, ushering Aunt Pol out of the room. He nodded towards Martha who offered him a sad smile.

Once the door was closed behind Arthur, Martha went over to the window. Through the net curtain, she watched as the men of the street went off to work. The early morning sun offered a golden glow over the dark terraced houses. Birds tweeted in the distance and she closed her eyes for a moment. She took her hair out of the up-do, feeling the tension overwhelm her head as her hair tumbled down her back.

"I'm so sorry, Tommy," she begun. Her voice was low and full of sadness.

Her mind travelled back to the night before, memories flooding back to her in waves. Her mind was scattered, tiredness overwhelming and numbing her senses. She was aware of the dull ache radiating throughout her head. She had not picked up on Michael's weird behaviour, still reeling from the shock of seeing Tommy at the house. Had he planned it all? Had he planned to hurt Tommy, or rather planned to cause her harm? Taking Tommy away from her would destroy her, he must have known that.

Tommy had been shot in the back. He was hurt. His whole world for the mean time was on hold. Would he ever make a full recovery? Would he ever wake up again? The guilt within her was strong and the pain within her heart was unexplainable.

"I have loved no other man in my whole life, and now, the thought of truly losing you is unbearable," Martha whispered. She turned to look at him. He was pale, quiet, and unconscious. "My life without you in it was dark. There was not a day that went by where I was happy whenever I woke up to a new day. But these past few weeks, of you being back in my life again, have been the happiest I've ever been. Were you hurt because I love you too much?"

Her question remained hanging in the silence of the room. She closed her eyes tightly, and took a deep breath hoping that it would calm her shaking body.

Martha moved over towards Tommy. She kneeled down on the floor by his bedside and stared at his sleeping form. He looked peaceful. His face was calm and serene.

"Please wake up, Tommy," Martha whispered. "I need you."

A few hours later witnessed the change in daylight as the hours crept by. Arthur had returned to the room a few hours later to check up on Tommy, and had found Martha resting against his bedside asleep. He checked Tommy's pulse, relieved when he found it, and left the two of them alone once more. He had descended downstairs where his family had remained and had told them not to disturb them.

As soon as the door had clicked shut, Tommy had jolted awake. His movement seemed to go unnoticed by Martha who continued to sleep, and he moved his head to the side to watch her for a few moments. A small smile played on his mouth as he gently stroked her hand with his thumb. The pain he felt was intense. It came to him in waves; if he moved slightly, it became agonising but if he remained still as possible then the pain subsided for a moment. He was not a man who enjoyed lounging around or to be weak in front of his peers. They had seen him in the worst way possible and that was enough.

Martha stirred then, and he watched as her eyes opened and fell on him almost immediately. The fear within her eyes spoke a thousand words and he pulled her to him as gently and as carefully as he could. She was aware of her need to be gentle and she allowed him to pull her close to him. His face rested against her neck and he breathed in her scent.

"He shot me, aye?" Tommy commented.

Martha nodded against him, hot tears streaming from her face. She pulled back for a moment and gently touched his face, tracing his thumb across his skin, across his lips. Her eyes searched every inch of her face, and he watched as the tears fell from her face and landed upon his bare chest.

"I'm sorry," Martha whispered.

"It wasn't your fault, Martha," Tommy whispered. "Hey, look at me. I'm fine."

Martha nodded sadly. He pulled her to him once more, and this time his lips met hers and they kissed each other with such passion that both of them were taken aback by the force of the kiss. Martha pulled away after a moment, and rubbed her lips together.

"What happened to your face?" Tommy asked, noticing her reddened cheek.

Martha was silent for a moment. "Polly," she whispered to which Tommy sighed aggressively. "She was scared. You were hurt."

"Gives her no right to slap you though," Tommy said, tracing his fingers over the hand mark that stained her cheek. Heat radiated from it and he winced.

Martha shrugged. "I'm glad you're awake."

Tommy smiled. "So am I."

Tommy pulled her to him once more and they laid in silence. It had been a rough night for them all, but it was moments like this, that he understood why bad things had to happen for the best things to happen in life. He had Martha by his side and that made everything that had happened a little bit more worthwhile.