Chapter 82
"Rosie! Rosie – look! Arthur said I got shading right," Lily greeted them when they came through the front door of number six, not bothering to say an actual hello as she came tumbling through from the kitchen, a piece of paper held aloft for Rosie to see.
Rosie shoved her bundle of papers and her plaque at him with no warning, practically winding him, glanced for all of half a second at the piece of paper in Lily's hand and then whipped the child up into her arms, hugging her tightly and kissing her head, telling her her picture was wonderful. It wasn't just him who was going to miss Rosie, or whom Rosie was going to miss, when she went back to work.
Lily settled happily in her sister's arms and once Rosie had finally halted her onslaught of kisses, the child brandished her picture again, "Look, Arthur says I got all the dark and light bits right and that's how I can make my pictures look real!"
"You did!" Rosie agreed, another kiss landing, her hand pushing Lily's cheek to her lips as if she felt she'd never kiss her hard enough to communicate everything she wanted her kisses to, "Good job sweetheart, you're such a clever little artist, aren't you?"
"Two clever girls I've got, eh?" Tommy interjected, holding out the plaque for Lily to look at, "Look what your clever sister did Lily."
The child took a glance at the proffered offering, then looked between him and Rosie to explain it.
"Best exam results in the whole of Birmingham," he told her, moving the papers under his arm to be able to squeeze the redhead's waist as he said,"We should all be very proud of our Rosie."
Lily frowned and looked at Rosie, still wanting some sort of further explanation, which the redhead offered by hugging her and saying, "Oh it doesn't matter Lily."
"It does matter," Tommy said, frowning himself.
Rosie shook her head and kissed Lily once more, then slid her down onto the floor, only for her to hold the picture out to him, so he could take his turn looking at it and telling her it was good - which, actually, it was. Rosie might have her concerns about Lily's academic approach, but the kid could draw.
"Arthur teaching you all he knows, eh?" he asked, ruffling her hair and walking through to the kitchen, where Arthur was sitting drinking a beer.
"Showing your face around here just to make sure we don't forget you?" he grinned at his brother as he put Lily's picture down on the sideboard, "Getting lonely over at The Garrison?"
"Taking the day off," Arthur replied, "Grace is opening, Harry's closing. They'll manage."
"And you thought you'd come spend it with your old brothers."
"Figured you lot would be missing me," Arthur quipped, then, glancing at the plaque Tommy still held, "What's that?"
"Rosie got the best exam results in Birmingham," he told his brother proudly, putting the plaque down on the table, hoping Arthur would at least give more of a reception to the news than Lily had.
"That all she gets - a plaque?"
"And a book token," Rosie said, coming through to the kitchen.
"Would have expected a cash prize."
"That's what I said - but she's happy enough."
"Who's happy enough with what?" John asked, drawn through from the shop by the noise, "And when's lunch?"
"I'll start it now, be ready in about an hour," Rosie replied, moving past him to the counter by the cooker, pulling out vegetables and a knife.
"Rosie's happy with her book token that she got as a prize for getting the best exam results in the whole of Birmingham," Tommy said pointedly, eyeing John.
"You what?"
"She got the best results, in the whole of Birmingham, beat all the lot from the private schools and everything," Tommy replied.
"Course she did," John grinned, going over to her and slinging an arm around her, hugging her to him, "Little genius this one, aren't you?"
"Oh I don't know about that," Rosie replied, going slightly pink at the attention, "Anyway, I'm sure it was just an easy year for the questions."
"I'm sure it bloody well was not," Tommy said, his tone snippy, as John said, "As long as you're still a genius in the kitchen that's good enough for me."
She seemed simultaneously pleased to be praised, and quick to refuse to accept it, even though it was, as it always was, entirely merited. He was thankful John, at least, had given some kind of reaction, even if he had undercut it thirty seconds later with his kitchen comment - which he knew his brother would see as a compliment, and which he worried Rosie would see as anything but.
"Still think a cash prize would have been in order," Arthur said loudly.
Tommy got the feeling his older brother might have felt he hadn't given enough of a reaction and was trying to right it by repeating himself. He appreciated the effort.
"Here - you fancy a job tonight since you're not at the pub?" he asked his brother, watching as Lily climbed up into Arthur's lap and settled, pulling a new piece of paper towards herself, watching Arthur's lips curve automatically upwards as he watched her.
"What's that then?" his brother replied, not taking his eyes off the back of Lily's head to look at him.
"You stay here and watch the house - and that child? So I can take that one," he nodded over at Rosie, "Out for dinner. Celebrate her a bit."
"Suppose I could manage that," Arthur nodded in reply, jiggling his legs under Lily, "What do you say precious one, eh? You fancy me looking after you tonight? We could go for a night on the town, eh? Pretend to these two we stayed home?"
Lily turned and gave him a wide smile. He glanced at Rosie, but she was staring at Arthur and Lily with a small, soft smile on her face. They had all missed this, he supposed, whilst Arthur's head had been taking its dip. His older brother doted on the baby, as much as he did. And he supposed she had missed time with him. Tommy reckoned his sending Arthur off to work in the pub probably wasn't a massive help in that department.
"Settled then - and mind and get Finn in by nine too, though he's a bit more capable of taking care of himself," he said.
And it was the truth, but it wasn't just about Arthur watching over Lily and Finn, it was also about not leaving them home alone in case the Lee's came around. Deciding he'd remind Arthur of that later, rather than in front of Lily, he asked Rosie, "Anywhere in particular you fancy?"
"We don't need to go for dinner, it's really not-" she started to reply, but he cut her off swiftly.
"If you end that sentence with not that important or not that big a deal or not that impressive or anything along those lines I'll wring your neck - it is important, it is a big deal and it's very impressive and we're all very proud. So I'm taking you out for dinner."
She went bright red and focussed very diligently on chopping up her carrots.
"Don't know how you put up with him, Rosie-girl," John told her, shaking his head in amusement, "He's a pain in the arse."
He resisted the urge to make a point about putting some pain in her arse if she underplayed the success of her results again - and went into the shop to find Polly and tell her the news, knowing his aunt would be the best of them all at managing to both praise her for her accomplishments and do so in a tactful way that wouldn't overwhelm her.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Tommy pulled the car around to number six, where Rosie was waiting, still wearing her day dress. She'd asked him if she should change, but he didn't reckon the Midland Hotel was prepared for either of her other options.
"You sure I can't wear the gold one?" she'd teased him in the kitchen when they were alone.
"You, madam, are already this close," he'd replied, holding up his hand, his thumb and finger a centimetre apart to demonstrate just how close, "To going over my knee for your nonsense of underplaying your results. I'll not have anyone putting my girl down, y'hear? So unless you fancy eating your dinner standing, you can just stay as you are - and behave yourself."
"So domineering!" she'd replied, rolling her eyes and smiling at him.
"Aye, I am that," he'd agreed, picking her up and sitting her on the table, standing in front of her and stroking her face, dropping kisses on her little mouth, "But you don't seem to have too many complaints about it the majority of the time. In fact, I do believe when we were attempting to have our little agreement about conducting ourselves with decorum and doing this right-"
"By our little agreement you mean that decision you made without consulting me?"
"That's the one," he nodded, kissing her again, "I believe I wasn't permitted to call you a good girl during that time."
She hummed in response as he kissed her neck, "Or to give you a stern look - even though I can't help what my face bloody well looks like."
"You can help it more than you try," she argued, breaking off with a little groan as he squeezed her waist whilst kissing along the neckline of the dress.
"Or to say I was going to put you over my knee."
"Definitely not on the allowed list."
"Now, if you had complaints about any of that - they wouldn't have been on the list of things that make you fluttery, would they?" he'd demanded triumphantly, raising an eyebrow at her as he looked up from kissing her chest, only for her to roll her eyes and cuff him gently around the back of his head.
Now, his touch was more chaste, a gentle squeeze of her hand as she climbed into the space next to him on the front seat before he returned his to the wheel. He'd given the car a wipe before bring it round and he hastily chucked the rag that he'd left on the seat down onto the floor, out of the way.
"Lily's pleased to have Arthur back," Rosie said as they turned out of Watery Lane.
"I know," he nodded, "That's why I figured I'd ask him to mind her tonight, would have usually asked Pol."
"Wouldn't bother asking Polly for any favours if I were you," she replied.
He had noticed his aunt, though she had been generous in her praising of Rosie's results, had barely acknowledged him that afternoon outside of business based conversation.
"I suppose you know more about it than I do?"
"I suppose I do."
"And are you going to let me in on it?"
"It'll get you all riled up and spoil our night if I do."
"I promise I'll stay calm."
She snorted derisively.
"It's about Ada I presume?"
"Uhuh."
"Well?"
"Her and Freddie have gone off to London."
He gripped the wheel tightly, his knuckles whitening, but he kept his voice calm as he asked, "Permanently?"
"No."
"Right. So, what's the problem?"
"Ada's pregnant."
"Yes?"
"Well she's getting big, Polly says."
"That tends to happen," Tommy replied, trying not to snap.
"She's delicate. Shouldn't be making that journey. They've gone by boat - that's four days' journey each way."
"Well that's a lot more to do with Freddie and Ada than it is me."
"She wouldn't stay with Polly while Freddie went away because she thinks you'd kidnap her and lock her in her room away from Freddie."
Ada knew his instincts well enough then.
"Is it kidnapping if she's a pregnant woman who is going to be a mother soon?"
"Tommy!" she hissed, smacking his arm.
"Fair question, kidnapping involves a kid."
"There's a kid inside her."
"Suppose it is kidnapping then."
"You wouldn't though Tommy, would you? You said you'd make it right with her," she replied, her voice getting strained.
He pulled the car over and put an arm around her, pulling her to him and kissing her hair, "I won't say I wouldn't quite like to get Ada home and put her under lock and key - but at the moment I'd settle for a conversation."
"Can't you offer some kind of a truce then, just to have that?"
He stroked her hair, "I don't think Freddie would go for it."
"But Ada would - and that would have to count for something. You'd listen to me, wouldn't you, if it was the reverse?"
"I've told you I'll always listen to you and take your opinion into account - I value it, I value you, you know that," he told her, then sighed, "But Freddie and I are not the same."
"You were friends once Tommy, you can't be all that different."
"People change, Rosie. Besides, what makes you so sure Ada would go for it?"
She grimaced, "Polly is under the impression the reality of Ada's current situation is crashing down on her."
"I knew it would."
"You hoped it would," Rosie pointed out, raising an eyebrow, then, obviously deciding she didn't want an argument, she sighed and nodded, "But she's too proud to admit it - so maybe giving her the opportunity to change the way things are but without humiliating her Tommy?"
He frowned, slightly insulted. Yes, he had wanted the reality of living on the run, of living with a communist, to crash down around his sister. Had wanted that to bring her home. And yes, he'd admit that he might have felt better if she'd come with her tail between her legs, knowing he'd been right in the first place and more ready to obey him as a result. But he would have taken her back in, wouldn't have made her beg. Why didn't she know that?
Then he had a rather shameful flashback to his last conversation with his sister. "You want to keep Freddie's bastard Ada? You want it? You go ahead and fucking have it!" he had shouted, his frustration and fury with Freddie and the whole situation brimming over, "But don't you dare think you're bringing it into my house."
He had wrote Freddie though, Ada knew that. So she had to know he'd only said what he'd said in anger. She had to...
"I've never had any taste for humiliating her," he bit out, defending himself.
"Well without goading her or gloating at her. And without humiliating Freddie either, because she'll take his side then on principal," Rosie replied, shifting her face to look up at him.
"Oh, don't be giving me those big golden eyes of yours, it's not fair on a man," he told her, kissing her head and trying to make light.
"My eyes are brown," she replied, sensing his need to make light of it and allowing it.
He appreciated it.
"Sometimes they are," he agreed, "But when they're brown they're brown with golden flecks through them. And when the sun hits, they go completely gold. And in the in between lights, by the fire, or in the sunset, they're a warm amber."
"You talk some lot of absolutely nonsense Thomas Shelby," she told him, reaching up to kiss him lightly, "Now, are you taking me for dinner or am I going to starve to death on the side of the road?"
He put his hands on her face and tilted it gently up, kissing her deeply before telling her, "I hope you know how loved you are my little loli phabai. And yes, I am going to take you for fucking dinner - don't want you wasting away on me."
She snorted, "Not much chance of that to be fair."
He kissed her again, "Loved. Appreciated. And very much desired," he told her, before smacking the side of her leg in lieu of being able to smack her arse and returning his hands to the wheel, starting the car up again and moving off.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"Shelby, I called," he told the man at the reception desk.
"Yes sir, one moment," the man replied, consulting a book in front of him and then lifted his receiver, spoke in some hushed tones and replaced it before telling them, "The restaurant is down the corridor, to the left, Kenneth will greet you there and show you to your table."
Tommy nodded, placed a hand on Rosie's lower back and walked her down the indicated corridor.
"This is fancy," she muttered, her eyes darting around the place.
"The best Birmingham has to offer," he replied, increasing the pressure of his touch as he felt her tense under his hand, "Only the best for the smartest girl in the city."
"I'd have been happy with fish and chips."
"I know you would have been," he nodded, running his thumb up and down her back, "But it's not every day you get a plaque and I'm very proud of you so we're going somewhere special, eh?"
She pressed close to his side, letting him guide her to the restaurant, then he pushed her in front of him as they approached the doors, letting her go through ahead of him, only for her to push violently back, stumbling back, her heels on his feet, causing him to wince.
"What're you about?" he grumbled, wriggling his toes.
"Tommy - they're in there!" she hissed, her eyes wide and wild, her hand grabbing at his arm.
"Who? The council people?"
"No - Grace. And that Inspector."
Tommy gripped her and pulled her back, pushing her behind him as if he thought to shield her from them.
"Did they see you?" he asked.
"No, they're too busy staring at one another."
"Stay here," he instructed her, maneuvering her to stand against the wall at the side of the door, where she'd be hidden, before going to take a look himself.
They were too busy staring at one another, the two of them looked as though no one else was in the room, and Grace's hand, which was on the table, was covered by his, laid on top of it like a fat piece of puffed pastry. He could see, instantly, why Rosie had thought they were in love at the museum. They were sitting side on to the door, so he could see both their profiles and they looked each as smitten as the other as they stared at one another, the Inspector's lips moving, Grace drinking him in, giving him and his words her full attention.
"What do you think I should do?" he asked, stepping back into the corridor, grinning, "Go over there hello? Say 'nice night for it, this why you were on the opening this afternoon Grace, special plans this evening was it? Special date planned?'"
"Don't be ridiculous Thomas!" Rosie snapped, her worry rendering her unable to appreciate his joking tone, "We need to go."
It would have been satisfying to see the look on both of their faces if he had gone over and made some kind of polite conversation, but she was right - they had to go. He had to use Grace, now he knew for sure that she and the Inspector were in love. It was too good a situation not to take advantage of.
"Fish and chips?" he proposed, raising an eyebrow.
She looked at him properly, then grinned back at him and nodded, "Fish and chips."
"Tell Kenneth we've changed our minds, my girl's not feeling well," Tommy shouted at the man on the desk as they hurried back out the hotel, both of them suppressing a fit of laughter and looking far from unwell.
He slid his hand into hers and pulled her along the street to where they'd parked, stopping and pushing her up against the car to kiss her properly before standing back and opening the door for her.
"Your chariot my darling," he offered, bowing and smacking her arse as she climbed in, eliciting that pretty little yelp she sometimes made when he caught her unawares.
"I can't believe they were in there," she said, shaking her head as he settled himself in the driver's seat.
"What are the odds, eh? Not a bet I'd have put down myself."
"We need to be more careful, don't we?" she said, a note of sadness tinging her voice, "If you're going to use her like you planned."
He picked up her hand and brought it to his lips, "We probably do. But tonight, we know where they are and we can do what we want."
"Is that right?"
"Uhuh."
"I just want fish and chips."
"That my love is coming right up," he promised, kissing her hand again before starting the car, "Though I do want you to know I'd have liked to have celebrated somewhere a bit more upmarket with you."
She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder, not seeming to care much if it impeded on his driving ability, "I'm not much of an upmarket girl Mr Shelby."
"It's alright to like nice things you know, to want nice things."
"It is," she agreed, "But fish and chips are nice. And I'm happy with them. As happy as I would be in a fancy restaurant."
"You're mad as a hatter Rosie."
"I don't think you're a walking advert for perfect sanity yourself Tom."
He snorted, "Fair comment."
He felt her snuggle into him and sigh against his shoulder, content with what he had to offer - a fragile mind and a cheap meal.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"Here, you can have my last bit of batter, since this is your sorry excuse for a celebratory dinner," he said, holding up the crispy bit.
"I'd pretend I want to know if you're sure about that but since the batter's the best bit…" she replied, trailing off and eating it from his fingers, then sat back and smiled, "Fuck, I love batter. Best celebratory dinner ever."
He snorted, "If you say so. I'm beginning to think the Midland Hotel is cursed for us, that's twice I've tried to take you there and twice it hasn't worked."
"You kissed me the first time it didn't work out and you fed me this time, I'd say we're doing alright."
"I did kiss you didn't I?"
"Mhmm," she nodded.
He pulled her onto his lap, "Remind me how that went."
"My mouth is going to taste like grease and batter."
"So is mine - and I believe you just declared you love batter."
"I suppose I did," she nodded, giving in and bringing her mouth to his - both of them tasting of salt more than they did batter.
He pulled on her lip with his teeth and moved his hand to her breast, running his thumb across it till her nipple peaked under him, hard and prominent through the fabric.
"Tommy, someone might see," she muttered, turning to look over her shoulder.
After they had picked up the fish and chips he had driven back to Garrison Lane and parked the car in the garage where they kept it - which didn't, currently, have a working door. Just a space in the brick. It was on his list to get around to.
"Let them see, you're the most beautiful woman in Birmingham - and the smartest. I don't mind showing you off," he replied, stroking her face - though in truth, there was more boast in his words than truth, if the street had been busy he may not have been so keen to take her on his lap in the car.
But it wasn't. The smithy, directly opposite their garage, had slowed down, with just the back shift workers still in and there was only the occasional bit of pedestrian traffic passing.
She shushed him, shaking her head, but she looked pleased with his words.
"I'm going to miss stealing lunchtime kisses," he told her, his thumb still sliding backwards and forwards across her face.
Her smile faltered, "Me too. And I'm going to miss seeing so much of the kids."
"John's going to miss that too, he'll be needing Lizzie back."
She snorted.
"Are you sure this is what you want to do? To go to work?"
"Yes, of course I am," she said, looking slightly peeved that he would ask, "I want to make some sort of a difference Tommy."
"I know," he nodded, still rhythmically stroking, "But can I put something on the table, without you shouting at me?"
"Depends what it is?"
"Well, at least stay quiet til I'm finished, eh?"
She regarded him rather critically, then rolled her lips together and placed her finger over them, albeit with a raised eyebrow.
"I think you have a rather contradictory problem," he told her, "In that you have a low opinion of yourself - you put yourself down and you constantly undervalue your work. I imagine that's a lot to do with your mother and the way she spoke to you growing up. You like being praised, though God knows you don't know how to take it half the time, but I see you soaking it up and it's like you take that praise in and it lights you up. Or even more, if it's me and I'm telling you that you're a good girl," he broke off to kiss her neck a little, which sent a shiver up her.
"I also like when you tell me you're proud of me," she admitted, her face flaming.
He kissed across her neck, "I'm always proud of you. But, to get back to my point, I think the reaction you have to it is because you didn't get praised enough growing up - and I've noticed you're always quick to praise the kids. I think you do a lot of correcting of what your mother did to you in the way you're bringing them up."
"I'm only bringing Lily up."
He snorted, "Sure. Like you're not a mother figure to John's lot. Even Finn, to some extent, now that you're not at his school on a daily basis."
She opened her mouth but he shut her down, "Don't argue with me, I see the way they look to you. Anyway - to get back to you, my love. You have a very low opinion of yourself, which I aim to change. But tied with that are these fucking impossibly high standards you set for yourself, standards you'd never set for anyone else, am I right?"
She didn't answer, just looked at him.
"You say you want to work - but you've told me, and I can see it all over you, how much going to work is going to make you feel that you're missing out on at home. And these women who do work Rosie - if they had the chance to be home with their kids, if their husbands made a wage that would support them and keep them, do you reckon they'd be out if they didn't need to be? Working in factories, cleaning houses like my grandmother did to make ends meet. If they had the option not to Rosie, do you think they would? I can provide for you, for Lily. And I'm happy to. And, like I say, I think you undervalue the work you do for us all, how much it contributes to our family. And we are a bloody family. You and me and Lily and Finn. And the rest of them."
"That's all well and good Tommy," she said, bristling in his arms, "But like we've already discussed - I have no legal claim to anything. And - some women do want to work and where you get off making assumptions that they don't I don't know. And, for the record, I don't like that you're using the fact you can provide for us as some sort of measurement of your own success and masculinity, Thomas, that's fucking ridiculous, and don't tell me you're not because I can see fine well -"
He kissed her to cut her off and make her be quiet, gearing up as he could tell she was for a rant.
"I told you to hold your tongue till I was done, sweetheart," he reminded her, his voice crooning and as soothing as he could make it, "I know there's no ring on your finger yet - but I've declared my intentions to you and you know there's going to be one there as soon as we've dealt with those two back in that bloody hotel. A big fuck off one that'll blind people when you walk down the street and the sun hits it."
"I don't want a big fuck off one. I'll take something made of tin, as long as it's from you."
He kissed her again, "I know. But I'm buying you a big fuck off one."
She gave a small snort and shook her head at him.
"Now, back to my point - and stop that interrupting me thing you're doing, you agreed to be quiet."
"I have not bloody well interrupted you!"
"You just did," he told her, swatting at her arse, "Now, my point is Rosie - I understand where you're coming from with your concerns about being left out to dry if something was to go wrong and you have no legal claim. Can't say I find it flattering in the slightest, because I damn well mean it when I say that I'll continue to provide for you and the bab even if you decide you're done with me. Even if it is just so I can use it as a measure of my own success - and it's not my masculinity that's fragile, sweetheart," he drawled, raising an eyebrow, "Far fucking from it. Just my old ego that gets a stroke out of knowing I've done enough to beat my father at providing for my family. But, that aside, I understand where your head is at."
He understood it came from her own trust and abandonment issues, he understood he was reaping what Molly Jackson had sown. And he was prepared for it to take as long as it would to prove to her she had nothing to worry about.
"But when I asked you this morning about the other people in the school - the ones who wanted to talk to you about being a secretary or an assistant or a payroll clerk - you said there was nothing of interest there. And that's what I mean about these standards you set for yourself. It isn't just about you wanting money for the sake of you being smart and covering yourself and Lily in case this falls apart - because if it was you'd be interested in any of those roles.
'You're taking it upon yourself to track down this man to see about a job that you want to do because you think it's you doing something worthwhile - you see it as you making a difference. And - now hear me out and don't interrupt me, eh? - I think that's down to this same need you have in you to be praised. That way you blossom when you know people are pleased with you, by what you've done. I think this is you chasing something that's linked to that, something that you think once you achieve it, is going to make you feel like you've done something worthwhile, because you've spent most of your life being told you're worthless. And you're not worthless, sweetheart. And I need you to know that.
'You are priceless, as far as I'm concerned and I don't know what in hell I ever did to deserve you, but you make a difference every day of your life by being in mine. You serve our family - as non-legally bound as that family may be for now - by being at home with us all. We need you. And I need you to know, to believe, to understand in your fucking bones, that that is more than enough. You don't need to be out there saving half of Birmingham to make a difference, you're making a difference to us. And we all fucking love you for it, alright?"
She nodded wordlessly, not looking at him. He heard her take a deep, shuddering gasp of a breath and he felt her shaking a little in his arms, as if she might be about to cry.
"Good. Now, all of that said, I have no interest in stopping you from doing what it is you feel you need to do. I've told you that before. I want you to succeed on your own terms and I want you to be happy. I just want to make sure when you do it, it's because you want to and not because you've set some ridiculous standard that means you won't feel you've made yourself a worthwhile human until you've saved five hundred orphaned children or something, alright? So I'm not suggesting you don't go see your man on Monday. I'm just suggesting a compromise - someone told me once that compromise is good, eh?"
"Sounds like a smart someone," she muttered - and he could tell she was busy swallowing a lump in her throat and trying not to cry, so he squeezed her more gently to him, kissing the top of her head as he cradled her on his lap.
"Smartest woman in Birmingham. Has an official plaque and everything, so she does."
"You know it's not just woman. It's person. I was first in Birmingham," she told him, chancing a look up at him to try and give him a hard stare, somewhat literally diluted by the water that was still swimming about her eyes, "Not first girl. First. Beat all the boys too,"
"Oh, there she is - knew she'd gotten too quiet and let me talk uninterrupted for too long," he said, kissing her forehead, "Alright, smartest person in Birmingham then. So here's a suggestion - how about you go to work part time? Two or three days a week? Then you have a few days of peace and quiet at home while the kids are at school, during normal times, to do the ledgers and all the bits around the house that I don't even know what's involved in, eh? And then we have the weekends to ourselves, not spending them trying to catch up on everything you're doing through the week now in the two days the council offices are shut. Time to spend with Lily and Katie and Finn, if he'll endure us. Time for trips to town and the pictures and the tea rooms and whatever bloody well else. Because the work you do around the house is valuable Rosie, it needs done, logistically anyway. And there's all the emotional labour too - the kids like that they can come running into the house and know you'll be there, whether it's for skint knees or a bloody biscuit. Same as it makes me calm during the day to be able to wander up and find you if I'm getting annoyed about someone. There's emotional support women give that men just don't - and I don't quite know how to put that into words or to quantify it for you, but it's also worth something, just so you know."
"You know you're saying my standards are high - yours are incredibly low if all you need to do to impress Thomas Shelby is to not be made of stone when a kid comes in crying or hungry," she quipped, deflecting his praise.
"You know what I mean," he grumbled, "And stop undervaluing yourself, I mean it. I think I'm going to have to start keeping a record and once a week I'll turn you over my knee and you'll get ten whacks with the back of that nice hairbrush we got you in Harrods for every time you've put yourself down that week, whether it's about self deprecation, or not accepting a compliment or undervaluing yourself. Few weeks of sitting on a tender arse and that'd soon put a stop to your nonsense."
"I'll put that brush in the bin if you try it," she told him.
"I'll write Cecelia James for another, don't you think I won't," he assured her, "Need to write her anyway, get more of these day dresses for you if you're going to go off and work in a fancy office in the council, eh?"
"I don't think I need dresses from Cecelia for that, I'm sure I can find some appropriate workwear in Birmingham," she replied, rolling her eyes.
"So what do you think, eh?" he asked her softly, running his hand up and down her spine.
"I hadn't thought about part time as an option," she admitted, chewing her lip, "I'd sort of seen it as being at school, then being off for summer and waiting for the results and then going to work. And I don't know if I hold with all that you've said, Tommy, because where you get the notion that you think you're qualified to make statements about what women would be doing if they didn't have the financial need to work I don't bloody well know but you can just rethink that idea," she told him, giving him a flinty look, then, more softly, "But, having said that, I like the idea of working some days and being home to do that work some other days. I liked from the moment we came here, as much as it hurt my income to give up the nights I worked, being able to spend more time with Lily. And I think she liked it too."
"She does," he nodded.
"So if they'd let me, I'd like that, I think. But I don't know if that's how the council works. I don't know if it'll be an option."
"You're the smartest person in Birmingham, if you want it to be an option, they'll make it an option."
"That simple is it?"
"It is when you're dealing with trying to get the smartest person in Birmingham into your department," he replied, kissing her neck, moving his hand to cup her breast.
"Tommy, I mean it, someone might see!" she hissed, looking out to the lane, where dusk was gathering to cover them.
"Well, I reckon being officially the smartest person in Birmingham means my good girl deserves a reward," he murmured in her ear, taking a little bite of her and then kissing it better.
She wriggled on his lap, instantly responsive to him.
"So if anyone wanders by," he said, grabbing her waist and spinning her around, so she sat facing away from him, "They can know you're being celebrated for your big achievement, eh? Now - spread your legs like a good girl."
"Tommy!" she whined, looking back at him, but she didn't resist when he held her waist with one hand and pushed the other between her knees, pulling her leg back towards him, hooking his own around it to keep it there and then switching, swapping hands to open the other.
"I'm so proud of you my love," he told her, eliciting a little grunt and a wriggle of her arse, which brought his cock to full attention.
"So very, very proud of you for doing so very, very well," he told her, speaking slowly, growling the words in her ear as he took the hem of her dress in his hand and began to pull it up.
"Tommy!" she whined again, her voice caught between worry and want.
"Don't like the idea of everyone knowing how well you did, eh?" he teased, laying the dress across her spread thighs, letting his hand fall at their apex, stroking languidly against the gusset of her knickers.
She rolled her hips as much as she could whilst having his legs pin hers open, his strong left forearm across her waist.
"Or maybe you do like it sweetheart? The idea of everyone walking by knowing you're on my lap with your legs spread because you've been such a good girl, eh?"
He slid his hand up and into the waistband of her underwear.
"So wet, as always, my love. Such a good girl, aren't you?" he murmured, tapping at the source of her wetness, taking his time spreading it over her will long, slow strokes before moving to draw circles on her clit, "I think you do like being spread open for me in public sweetheart. I think you like the idea that everyone walking by will be able to say 'Oh look, there's the smartest girl in Birmingham and Tommy was so proud of her he couldn't even wait to get her home to give her her reward', eh? You like the idea of everyone knowing you've been a good girl who has earned a little reward, my darling?"
"Tommy!" she moaned, trying to push against his touch, the way she said his name making him close his eyes and sink his teeth into her neck, "Tommy - please - what if someone actually sees."
Her leg twitched as if she wanted to unhook it from him, to close it over.
He removed his mouth from her neck to tut in her ear, "Good girls keep their legs open sweetheart, and you are my good girl, aren't you?"
"Yes," she muttered, her eyes screwed shut.
"Yes what?"
"Yes I'm your good girl," she gasped, her little thrusts and pushes against him picking up tempo.
"That's right sweetheart," he crooned, still rubbing her clit, "You're my good little girl who keeps her legs nice and spread open, just how I like them, so I can reward you for being a good girl for me. And it's just as well you are because if anyone walks by right now darling, all they're going to see is you sitting in the car, they won't even notice me behind you. It'll look to all the world like you're setting up to drive off. But if you're a naughty girl and you close your legs, well, I'll have to put you over my knee right here to turn you back into my good girl - and that's going to attract rather a lot of attention, isn't it? Everyone walking by will hear you getting your spanking, hear your little cries and your promises to be a good girl. I think that'd be a little more embarrassing than anyone noticing you were being rewarded for being such a good girl, wouldn't it?"
She moaned and wriggled against him, leaning forward and crossing her arms on the wheel, laying her head down, pushing her arse further against his groin. He groaned and thrust up against her, his eye almost watering with the relief of the movement. She moaned back, seeming to appreciate the pressure of him against her backside, and he tugged further at the hem on her dress, pulling it out from under her, leaving her clit for a minute so he could grab her hips with both hands and hold her in place as he moved himself to be pushing up against the middle of her arse, the rough material of his own trousers moving better against her underwear than against the floaty fabric of the dress, letting him feel more of her against him through their layers. She moved with him, bracing herself on the wheel to push further back against him, throaty little pants and grunts escaping her as he thrust against her. She really was responsive to any attention paid to her backside - and it pleased him, greatly.
He grunted himself, settling into the movement, a movement he had long ached to perform against her, and moved his hands, his right sliding into her underwear and returning to her clit, his left going further down, rubbing roughly at her opening through her underwear, matching the movements of his fingers to the movements of his groin.
She choked out his name and he squeezed his eyes shut, lost to the feeling of her clit, hard against his finger and her arse, soft and pliable against his cock. He growled her own name back at her, not caring who might be walking by any more, not caring if the Garrison had emptied and every single one of its patrons had gathered to watch them.
"Tommy," she gasped, "Tommy, I'm close - I'm going to…"
"Good girl, make me proud, show me how hard you can cum sweetheart, show me how much you like it," he ordered, his eyes still shut.
"I like it, I like it a lot Tommy," she returned, her voice shaking as she reached her peak.
He wrenched his eyes half open, watching through his lashes as she threw her head back and let out a noise that might have been a squeal if she hadn't had her lips pressed so tightly together. Coming out through her nose, it sounded almost a bit like a car engine starting up.
"Good girl," he grunted at her, thrusting hard, "Such a good girl."
When he was satisfied she'd ridden out her own orgasm, he moved his hands back to her hips and gripped her as he continued to move.
"Rosie," he grunted, "The rag, on the floor, that I cleaned the car with, can you reach it?"
He felt her reach down for it, stretching as much as she could whilst he anchored her to him.
"Give me it," he ordered, moving his hands so his left was thrown across her hips and his right was grasping for it.
He pushed against her back, moving her forwards, back to leaning on the wheel and unbuttoned himself, freeing his cock and covering the top of it with the greasy scrap of fabric, continuing to thrust against her until he finally released his own load, shooting into the material, then scrunching it up and chucking it out of the car and onto the ground, tucking himself back into his shorts and laying his forehead on her back, breathing deeply, unhooking his legs from hers so they could both relax into a more comfortable position.
"Was that good for you?" she asked quietly, looking over her shoulder at him.
He lifted his head to meet her eyes and nodded, sitting back and pulling her against him.
"Very good for me," he confirmed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cigarettes, lighting up and inhaling deeply, enjoying the feel of her against his chest as he expanded it.
"When do I get to touch you Tommy?" she asked.
He took a deep drag, blew out a stream of smoke and kissed her neck, "You let me worry about that, eh?"
"But you touch me - and it feels good. I want to make you feel good Tommy."
"You do sweetheart."
"Then why can't I be the one to touch you?"
"Cause I don't fucking trust myself. And I've told you - I will not be getting you pregnant. That'd be a fast track to you not achieving what you want to and, like I said, I'm not interested in standing in your way."
"But you touch me and you don't lose control."
"That's different."
"How?"
"Just is."
She let out an annoyed sigh.
"Hey, no fighting allowed - its your special night," he told her, running a hand over her ribs, eliciting a giggle and a flap of her own hand for him to get off her, "And especially no fighting right after that."
She grinned and shook her head, "I can't believe we just did that here. And you know as well as I do anyone who walked by would have not thought for a minute I was just sitting here as if I was about to drive off."
"I think you liked the idea of being seen," he said, raising an eyebrow.
She considered it for a minute then offered, "I think I might like the idea of it. But I don't think I'd like the reality."
"Little exhibitionist, eh? Like the idea of everyone knowing what a good girl you've been - or is it the idea of them seeing you over my knee for being a naughty little thing that gets you going?"
"Maybe it's just the idea of everyone knowing who I answer to - maybe the idea of everyone knowing that I'm yours and you're mine - maybe that's what gets me going," she replied, arching an eyebrow.
"Soon enough my love, that will very much be the case," he assured her, picking up on her subtext, "People will split in the street to let you walk by, muttering to each other about you being the one who's married to that Peaky Blinder devil."
"Going to hell in your side car, amn't I? That was the agreement."
"That's right," he nodded, kissing her neck before returning his mouth to his cigarette.
They sat in silence for a while, him smoking and her sitting on his lap, her eyelids slightly heavy before she gave a sigh and said, "We should get moving, or we'll end up spending the night out here."
"Suppose you're right," he nodded.
Their table had been booked for seven at the hotel and he figured, with the diversion to the chip shop and even with the afters, they were back earlier than they would have been had the evening gone to plan. But not so early, he didn't reckon, as to be met with the sight of Lily and Katie still pushing the pram around Watery Lane.
Rosie delved into the neckline of her dress, causing him to raise an eyebrow.
"What?" she demanded, as she produced the pocket watch he had gifted her for her birthday - the first occasion they had been supposed to dine at The Midland - , "Women's clothes don't have pockets half the time, I don't have anywhere else to keep it safe."
"I didn't think you used it - you've never worn your suit."
"I'm trying to keep it good," she replied, her usual war cry for anything that any more than a pittance was spent on for her or Lily, "And I don't take this out with me every day, it's too special, but I took it with me the day of the exam so I figured I should have it on me the day I went for the results."
He rolled his eyes, but enjoyed that she did actually like the things he had bought her - he had only ever seen her use the books after all.
"It's quarter to nine!" she snapped looking at the face and then closing the thing over, slipping it back into her chest and marching off towards the pair, reaching them before he did and standing with her hands on her hips.
"Eight o'clock you're supposed to be in for - and you know it! Thought you'd just decide to stay out because you knew Tommy and I were away did you?"
"It's not fair Rosie!" Katie replied immediately defensive, stamping her foot and putting her own hands on her hips in imitation, "I'm seven! I shouldn't have to go at the same time as a six year old!"
"You've been seven for all of two months Katie, there's hardly that much of a difference between you!"
"And I'll be seven in a week!" Lily said, though he wasn't sure whether that was her attempt at a protest towards her sister with regards to being told to get inside or whether it was aimed at Katie to point out the closeness of their ages.
"Ten days," Rosie countered, turning a flinty eye on the child, "And your bedtime will be reviewed when I decide it'll be reviewed, not when your age changes."
"S'not fair," Katie cried again, impassioned in her belief that it wasn't fair.
"And even if it does get reviewed," Rosie said, speaking over his niece, "It won't be jumping forward to nearly nine bloody o'clock!"
"I'm not tired! And George and Finn are still out!"
"George and Finn are older than you," Tommy broke in, giving Katie a stern look - though in reality he felt his nephew should have been in the house long ago too, "And I don't really care whether you're tired or not, if I have to drag you into that house you'll be sleeping on your stomach so I'd advise you get yourself going with no more arguing."
He watched a battle rage over her features, then her hands dropped from her hips, though they stayed balled into fists at her sides.
"Fine," she sighed, "But I don't like it!"
"You don't have to," he told her, swatting lightly at her backside as she attempted to storm past him, "And no more attitude or I'll be over first thing in the morning to wake you up with a good spanking."
He bit his cheeks to maintain his stern countenance as she walked away, chancing to glower over her shoulder at the two of them but with her hands firmly over her backside to shield herself from him, lest he get any ideas.
"Right, you as well - in!" Rosie said, her finger less pointing towards number six and more stabbing in the direction of it, "And I want no nonsense from you in the morning little miss - no temper tantrums because you didn't get to bed early enough, you understand me?" she lectured, walking behind Lily as the child trudged along, defeatedly pushing her pram ahead of her, "And I mean it Lily, you better start doing as you've been told to and make sure you're in at eight o'clock every night going forward if you're expecting me to think you're grown up enough for that time to be moving soon. You've been cutting it fine most of the summer and I've had enough of coming to get you - and I am not pleased that you decided to take the opportunity to stay out as soon as my back was turned just because you know Arthur will let you away with it, you hear me?"
He could hear Lily muttering in response, but couldn't make out her words. He almost felt sorry for her with the way Rosie was lecturing - always going on and labouring her points, was Rosie. But not sorry enough for her that he was going to get in the way of it either.
The redhead pushed the door open and nodded her head for Lily to get through it.
"That you back precious?" Arthur said, looking up from his paper to see Tommy and Rosie, "You two are early."
"Just as well, eh brother?" Tommy replied, raising an eyebrow, "Otherwise God only knows what time this precious one of yours would have been coming in of her own accord at - she's meant to be in bed at eight."
"What time is it?"
"Nearly nine."
"Oh, Lily," Arthur admonished her gently, "You're getting me into trouble."
Lily went to where Arthur sat on the single seat and climbed into his lap, putting her arms around his neck and mumbling her apologies.
"Apologises to him," Rosie said to Tommy in disbelief, shaking her head and rolling her eyes at him, taking Lily's pram from where it had been abandoned by the child and pushing it through into the kitchen, reappearing to say, rather sharply, "Right, come on, I want you in your nightdress with your teeth brushed in five minutes. Try and get you some semblance of a sleep tonight."
Lily still had her face pushed into Arthur and turned to merely give her sister a baleful look, showing no signs of moving.
"Lily, come on," Rosie said, making an effort to soften her tone, "There'll be no time at all for a story if you don't get moving now."
"Is not tired!"
"Yes you are, come on."
"I'm not!" she insisted.
Whatever Rosie had been going to say in return was cut off by the door banging open and Finn coming in, looking between them and then opening his mouth, pointing at Lily, "How come I need to be in when she's only just come in - I saw you bringing her in!"
"She was meant to be in an hour ago, her misbehaviour isn't a free pass for you," Tommy replied, frowning.
"But if she's only just going to bed - Tommy it isn't fair! She's six and I'm twelve now."
"You've been twelve for a fortnight," Tommy returned, rolling his eyes at the importance children seemed to place on their ages - as if a birthday happened and in that one day everything changed.
"It's still not fair!"
"She's well on her way to going to bed with a well smacked arse," Tommy snapped, "And that'll be more than fair so if you don't want it to be two of you I suggest you stick to your own schedule."
Finn grumbled and stomped by Rosie, glaring at Lily, who now had the fingers of one hand very firmly in her mouth, her eyes fixed on him, and the fingers of her other hand gripping a handful of Arthur's shirt, as if she thought if she held on to his brother, he would stop Tommy from carrying out the threat.
"I mean it, madam - get going before I turn you up and redden you," he told her, jerking his head in the direction of the door.
She didn't move, but her eyes filled with tears.
"Lily," Rosie said, her voice coaxing, "Lily you come here to me."
She crouched down and held out her arms.
Lily looked between them and then couried in to Arthur, evidently hoping to appeal to his softness.
"Ah, you'd better go my little one," Arthur said, "That Tommy doesn't make idle threats."
"Is not want smack," she choked out.
"I know, so you'd best get on with going to your sister and getting to bed to avoid it, eh?"
He tipped her very gently onto the ground and she looked up at him as if he had betrayed her in the worst possible way before she eventually tiptoed up to Rosie, who took hold of her waist.
"Look, sweetheart, this crying is a sign you're overtired - you've thrown your routine off and now you've gotten yourself all worked up and overwhelmed, haven't you? That's why your bed time is so important, Lily. So you listen to me and understand this - if you come in late again I'll give you a spanking myself, alright? Your routine is not for being mucked around with, it's important, alright? Right, come on then," she said, pulling the crying child close against her, "That's a good girl, we'll go get you ready, eh? Then you can come back down to say goodnight, alright?"
Lily nodded, her face in Rosie's shoulder, and let herself be picked up and hurried off by the older sister.
"Overtired, overwhelmed - God, our mother would have just grabbed us by the ear and whacked us off out of her sight, eh?" Tommy said, sitting on the sofa and lighting a cigarette.
"She's a good balance to you," Arthur offered, looking at the space Rosie had just disappeared from.
"Aye, she's that, as far as the bringing up of the child goes."
"That all?" Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow.
Tommy fixed him with a look.
Arthur threw his hands up, "I'm just saying Tom - she makes you happy, you make her happy, I don't see why-"
"Arthur - the reason we're back earlier than planned," Tommy spoke over him, "It's cause we went to The Midland and Grace was there."
"Grace the barmaid?"
"Yes."
"Who you took to the races?"
"Unless there's any other Grace the barmaids?"
"Me and John," Arthur said, straightening up, "We're wanting a word with you about that by the way - and it's not been the right time - still isn't - but that wasn't right what' you did Tom, wasn't right to take Grace when you've got Rosie sitting here. Polly thinks so to an-"
"Arthur, shut up," Tommy cut over him, shaking his head and rolling his eyes, "I didn't take Grace for a date. I took her for two reasons - firstly, she was there to take Kimber's attention. And it worked, I got peace and quiet to negotiate with Roberts whilst Kimber went off to dance with Grace. And secondly, because I have suspicions about that woman. And I still don't know rightly who or what she is, but I was right. Rosie saw her at the gallery in town with the Inspector - or with a man she thought was Campbell, she'd never seen him in the flesh before. But tonight the two of them were at The Midland. That's why we got out of there sharpish."
"Grace and Campbell?"
"That's right. Now I don't know if they knew each other before they came here or not - I suspect they did, but I have no proof. What I do know is that that's twice they've been seen together and both times they've looked cosy."
"She's too pretty for him," Arthur snorted.
"Maybe so, but I've seen what I've seen. So when you're working with Grace in the pub Arthur, I've already told you not to talk about the rest of the business-"
"Do you think I'm a fucking idiot?" Arthur demanded, immediately riled.
"I think you're drunk. A lot," Tommy replied coolly, "But you can't mention Rosie or Lily, alright? Grace can't know about them. Rosie's spoken to her a few times, got information for me - if Grace is passing information to the Inspector about us she can't know Rosie is one of us or she'll know we're onto her - for now, the plan is to use her, to let her think we know nothing about whatever her connection to Campbell is."
"Risky play, Tom."
"Risk brings rewards."
"Alright, you say good night," Rosie's voice reached their ears as she reappeared with Lily, now dressed for bed.
He squeezed her tightly when she padded over to him, kissing her head before sending her back to her sister. Yeah, he could see them bringing up children together in a nice balancing act - so long as she didn't get completely bogged down in the work she was insistent in doing and as long as he got them the nice house that he wanted her and his children to have.
Now that Arthur was in the know, he'd have to tell John about Grace too. And the more people who knew, the more chance of something going wrong. But, like he'd said to Arthur, risk brought rewards.
Sorry this was a day late this week - I got completely thrown on Friday when Helen's death was announced and Friday nights are when I tend to do a lot of my writing for this, so I just didn't feel the chapter was ready to go yesterday and wanted a little bit more time with it. Hopefully the fact it's a 10,000+ word one makes up for the extra day!
How are we all feeling? I've never really been upset about a celebrity death in the way that I have been over Helen. I think this is just such a massive one because of whole mix of it - the tragedy of losing such an important and accomplished actress, and the loss of all the future work she would have done; losing her to cancer, which I think is horribly one of those diseases that almost everyone has some sort of personal connection to and also, as shallow as it sounds, mourning the loss of the character of Polly and what Season 6 would have looked like. Not just because I obviously had my own hopes for what I wanted Polly to do in season 6, but just that watching it is now going to be so tinged with wondering how differently it might have gone. When we hadn't seen any pictures of her in the filming shots etc I'd almost been excited that that meant I was right with my predictions and that that was the reason she wasn't around the Shelby's and the whole thing has just totally knocked me. I'm very grateful at this point that, although I'm a very quiet participant in the fandom in the grand scheme of things, that I am in it and I feel like there are loads of other people also grieving her with me and on the same grounds of grieving the loss of a person we didn't know, but were touched by the work and the spirit of because I reckon my family would think I was absolutely mad if I tried to explain how much I feel like I've had a personal loss in this scenario even though I haven't. I find being in a group very comforting when going through these slightly alien emotions. Hope you're all doing okay xx