Chapter 83

"How was town?" Tommy asked over John's head as Rosie and Lily came into the kitchen.

"Alright, I got a few bits, Lily got a dress and a cardigan," Rosie replied.

"And did we have any tantrums from little miss?" he asked, smirking slightly as he referenced the title Rosie had given the child during her lecturing the night before.

Rosie shook her head as Lily looked slightly perturbed by the question.

"That's my best girl," he praised warmly at the child, who gave him her sunny little smile in return, instantly and easily reassured, "So is this dress a birthday dress like how you had a Christmas dress sweetheart?"

She shook her head, "Blue dress for my birthday dress."

"The one you got her in Harrods," Rosie clarified, "She wants to wear that for her birthday."

He was touched, and held out a hand to the child, who crossed the room to him and let herself be picked up onto his hip.

"Fuck's a birthday dress?" John asked Rosie in confusion.

"Usually she gets a new dress to wear for her birthday," Rosie explained.

"Don't think there's much danger of Katie starting that up," he snorted.

"You like the blue dress enough to make it your birthday dress my little love?" he asked, remembering the night she'd worn it to dinner, Rosie covering the entire thing with napkins across her lap and tucked in at her neck and rendering it almost a complete waste of time wearing it in the first place.

She nodded, "It's my favourite dress."

"Your favourite, eh?"

She nodded, "That one, then my Christmas dress, then my yellow dress."

"What about your new dress you just got today?"

"Well I like it – but it's not fancy like those ones."

"It's practical for playing in and it'll do for when school starts back too," Rosie spoke from where she'd settled herself in the seat next to John.

"Rosie got fancy dresses," Lily told him.

"Fancy dresses eh?"

"Rosie got work dresses," Rosie explained, rolling her eyes.

"D'you have to off to work Rosie girl? I'm not a fan of the plan at all," John told her, turning puppy dog eyes on her.

"You don't need to be a fan of it John Shelby, I'm good for more than just feeding you you know."

"But no one else feeds me as good as you Rosie girl."

"I'm sure you'll get by."

"Maybe we could come to an arrangement, eh? You could come make dinner for me a few nights a week to make up for my lack of lunches?"

Tommy snorted, "She's got Finn and Lily to feed."

"Aye, and you you lucky bugger," John grinned, "Selfish, keeping her to yourself, that's what you are Tommy."

"John! Stop swearing in front of the baby!" Polly shouted, coming into the kitchen and whacking his younger brother around the back of the head.

"Not a baby Aunt Polly, be seven next week," Lily pointed out.

"Ah you'll be the baby until we have another girl born to the family pet," Polly said, looking fondly at the child then switched her eyes to him and hardened them, "And that's not likely to happen for a while yet."

So, Ada was having a boy then, that was what she was telling him. Just what they needed. A mini Freddie. He'd have to hope the Shelby won out. Have to hope Ada had come to her senses by the time she was giving birth, had come home where they could bring the boy up a Shelby in name and nature.

"I saw Jeremiah this morning," he said evenly, glancing to Rosie to make sure she was listening, then focussing his eyes back on Polly, "I know Ada and Freddie are away to London. I've told him to watch the boats, keep an ear out and to let me know when they're back. And, if I can arrange a meeting, I'll have a word with Freddie then about making Ada travel in her condition and I'll see what else he has to say, alright?"

He'd see if Freddie was growing sick of Ada yet, see if what Polly had said about the reality of his sister's situation sinking in to her had made her unbearable to live with yet. See if Freddie was prepared to give her up, hand her back to him to take care of.

"What about Ada? You going to try and speak to her?" Rosie asked, an edge in her voice.

"Freddie first," Tommy said, keeping his face and voice blank.

The truth was, Freddie would be easier than Ada. And, if he could gauge from Freddie how their 'marriage' was going, well, he hoped what he'd gauge would give him ammunition for when he did get to have a conversation with his sister.

If Polly was right and Ada's reality was caving in on her, but she still had opted to go to London rather than stay with Polly, then his sister's damned pride was in full effect. She wasn't going to come to him after a one-off conversation. Ada was a pain in the arse and fully equipped with the same Shelby stubbornness he was. Freddie on the other hand… Freddie he might be able to talk some sense into.

"Deliver Freddie Thorne to us, or we'll take your sister in as an accomplice. She'll get four years for sedition."

That was what Moss had said. When Freddie had come back the last time.

If he could separate the two of them, that would make the rest easier. Get Freddie out of town. Send some men round to rough him up good, tell him to forget the guns and then send him off somewhere. He had gone to London for a reason, there had to be something worth his time in London. A promotion within his communist cause.

If Tommy couldn't deliver Freddie to the police – and, as unpleasant as it was for him to admit, he didn't reckon he had it in him to hand his former friend over for a drawn out death sentence that prison would be for him – he could still seem to uphold his bargain with Campbell if he got him out of town. After all, that was what he had originally promised, when he was dealing with Campbell directly. Moss' message had been once Freddie had come back, once he had married Ada and decided to stay.

If their marriage broke up, Freddie's reason to stay lessened and it could all work out for the best for all of them. That was what he was hoping for, in the best case scenario. He just had to hope Polly was right in thinking Ada's rose tinted glasses had left her.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Wait a minute you!" Rosie said, grabbing Lily's dress and pulling her back to the table.

The baby had finished her cake and been ready to shoot back outside and she fixed her sister with a wary look, evidently not wanting to be made to wait a minute, or to hear why she was being made to wait.

"I've been thinking it over Lily – and you know I'm still not pleased at you staying out as soon as my back was turned last night," Rosie began, only to be cut over by the child.

"Wasn't being bad! Just didn't realise the time!" Lily insisted.

"Well, you're supposed to check the time if you don't know it, and there's no way you were out for nearly an hour past when you should be without noticing," Rosie countered.

The child bit her lip and didn't reply.

Tommy slightly disagreed with the redhead on her statement - he was well aware that as a child he had stayed out far later than he was supposed to because he hadn't realised, had only noticed when it got dark, that time had moved and had returned to either find his mother waiting for him, more often than not with a wooden spoon in her hand, or to find himself locked out and being made to set up camp around the back – stuck there until someone came down to go for a piss in the middle of the night or until morning if that didn't happen – he'd sometimes gone off to Charlie's yard to settle somewhere softer if that happened, which had resulted in some even worse trips over his mother's knee. But still, he wasn't going to point that out now.

"Now, we talked last night about the importance of your routine didn't we?"

Lily nodded.

"You understand that then?"

She nodded again, still wary – still convinced she was being led into a trap of some sorts. And she was quite right.

"Good, so in the interests of your routine, I've decided from now on I want you in here at quarter to eight, not eight o'clock."

"But Rosie!" Lily cried passionately, stamping her foot, "S'not fair!"

Katie might be in no danger of adopting Lily's birthday and Christmas dress tradition, but Lily was certainly adopting some of his niece's traits.

"Lily – you're supposed to be in bed at eight o'clock, not coming in from outside and starting to get ready for bed," Rosie said calmly, "I'm pulling your time forwards so that we can get your routine back on track – and you told me last night you understand how important that routine is, didn't you? Now off you go and play, just remember I want you in here at quarter to, alright?"

Lily stood glaring for a minute. Quite evidently, it was not alright as far as the child was concerned, but Rosie's reasoning made it too difficult to disagree with. After struggling with herself for a moment Lily let out a huff and turned away, stamping across the kitchen as loudly as she could, making her way to the front door. He was quite tempted to go after her and give her a good smack for her attitude, but he stayed put as Rosie raised her voice and called after the child.

She was out of the room now, out of his line of sight but he presumed she had stopped and looked back.

"What time are you going to be back here for?" Rosie asked, an eyebrow raised.

There was a little sigh then, defeatedly, "Quarter to eight."

"Good girl – and do you remember what I said last night?"

"Routine is important."

"I did say that, yes, but what did I say I'd do if you came in late?"

"Spanking," Lily replied in a small voice.

"Yes, I did – and I will Lily, so make sure you're back here on time, alright?"

There was no audible reply, but he presumed she'd nodded because Rosie said, "Alright, good girl – off you go then," and turned back to the table.

He wondered if Lily believed Rosie would turn her over her knee. She'd told her she would - not just last night, but the time Lily had gotten herself smacked in town, when she'd told her she'd give her a spanking if she ever heard Lily say that he wasn't her father again. And she'd said it would happen if she found out about Lily going anywhere without her permission after her and Katie's escapade down at The Cut. But she never had. Nevermind the child believing it, he wasn't entirely sure that he believed she would.

He raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged, "Figured if she keeps pushing it to the last minute or comes in a bit later she'll still be in by eight o'clock that way."

He nodded. After the night before he'd been doing some thinking himself on the timings of the house – and, as loathe as he was to make the overall settling of the house happen any later, meaning it pushed back the time he and Rosie had together that wasn't going to be interrupted by a kid coming or going, he had come to the conclusion Finn probably did deserve to have his own time pushed forward a bit.

He glanced at the kid, who was finishing up washing the dinner dishes and who would have heard every word of Rosie and Lily's exchange.

"Finn," he said loudly, making the boy jump and look over his shoulder at him – trepidation etched all over his face that his time was also about to be made earlier, "I've been having a think on you time too – and, since you do come in on time most of the time, you can move yours forward to half nine, alright?"

Finn visibly relaxed, then, after a second, blurted out, "Can it be ten Tommy? I'm one of the oldest and half of them aren't in till ten!"

"You want to make it back to nine?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Finn shook his head.

"Didn't think so," he replied, lighting a cigarette and inhaling, blowing smoke out in a stream before he continued, "You can have till half nine and I can pull it back to nine any time I like, you hear me?"

Finn nodded.

"Alright, off you go and make the most of it then," he told him, nodding his head towards the door.

Finn grinned, put the last plate on the side to dry and took his advice.

"Look at you, going all soft," Rosie said, standing up and picking up Lily's plate and fork, kissing the top of his head as she passed by him on her way to the sink with them.

"Ah, he's not a bad kid," Tommy shrugged, flicking his ash into the fire.

"He's a good kid really."

"Aye, suppose he is. See how long that lasts."

"I think it'll last, he's got a good heart Finn."

"God knows where he gets it from."

She picked up a dish towel and took the few steps across the kitchen to smack him around the back of the head with it, "Don't you start – you've a cheek to say I'm self-deprecating you know."

He shook his head, "And who you do think you are exactly, hitting me with your towel?"

She grinned over her shoulder at him as she returned to the dishes and he threw his cigarette into the fire and stood up, making his way over to her and giving her a good crack across the seat of her trousers. She gave a little jump and squeal and moved her hand as if to shield herself, but he prevented it by pressing himself against her, circling his arms around her waist and kissing her neck. Her own hands came to his, intertwining with them.

"Now, I thought you were going to be a good little wife, eh? Good wives don't smack their husbands with their manky dish towels."

"Cheek of you, this is clean," she told him, smirking as he moved his mouth to hers.

He broke off their kiss and nodded his head at the offending item, "But it's all wet."

"From drying clean dishes!"

"Ah well, I suppose that makes it okay then, doesn't it?"

"It'll just have to," she said crisply.

He snorted, kissed her neck again and smacked her as he stood back, "Now why was it I had to find a bloody suffragette in place of a nice submissive wife who wouldn't answer back or argue or attack me with her dish towels?"

"Cause the world saw the way you were heading and figured you'd benefit more from a suffragette with a dish towel."

"Gets it right sometimes, does the world."

"Aye, it does that - occasionally."

He went through to the front room, settling on the sofa and picking up the paper, looking at it and not taking it in as he listened fondly to her rattling around in the kitchen, drying the dishes, heading out the back for more water, putting them away - taking care of the women's work of his house that she had so easily and competently in hand. He'd have offered her a hand, but, selfishly, he liked the comfort of her running his house. And, he figured, she liked to run his house – so it suited them both if he left her to it.

She appeared in once she was done, a book in her hand and settled next to him on the sofa, slipping her feet under his legs. His body thrummed with contentment at the feeling and he squeezed appreciatively at her calf as he shook his paper, trying to make it look like he had been reading it and not just listening to her.

"The world – gets it right occasionally like you said," he said, after clearing his throat.

She glanced up from her book, looking questioning at him.

"But sometimes it plans a lot of things in a short space of time – busy week next week – you going to the council on Monday, Lily's birthday, Finn's boxing on Friday."

She nodded, "And then it'll be time to get them organised for going back to school."

"You should come with us on Friday."

"I don't think seeing men lamping each other is my idea of a good time," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"You could get dressed up – I got the good tickets. Wear one of those fancy dresses Lily says you bought today."

"They're not fancy like the London ones, they're just – well – fancier than my usual," she told him, flapping her arms to indicate her blouse and trousers.

"People get dressed up for the boxing you know – women put on all their finery."

"You saying I could wear that gold dress?"

"Maybe not. It's bad form to distract the fighters."

She snorted.

"You could wear the one you wore to the theatre."

"That was the one that got you all worked up because you were seeing my arms, if I remember correctly."

"That's the one."

"You sure it wouldn't distract everyone to see my arms?"

"Don't be so facetious," he replied, rolling his eyes as she grinned at him, "Though does that mean you're coming?"

"I really don't think it's my thing."

"Well, the ticket's there for you if you want it."

"You could offer it to Grace?"

"And get her on a family outing with Finn and Isiah in tow," he snorted, "I'm hoping to use her to feed her information, not to have her get to know everyone."

"It might make her feel like she's one of you."

"I don't need her to feel like she's one of us. And it is one of us, Rosie, including you and Lily in the us. It's not one of you."

She gave him that soft, sweet smile that made his heart flutter.

"I'll think on it," she told him – though he knew she probably had made up her mind not to go.

He nodded and returned to the paper, his elbow resting on her bent knees.

"You know Tommy," she said, pulling his eyes back to her, "This big week that's coming up – I suppose it makes you appreciate the quiet nights like this even more, eh?"

He smiled and bent to press a kiss to her knee, "I suppose it does."

Thank you as always for reading and reviewing, I very much appreciate it!