Chapter 87

"There she is," Tommy said, coming over to the stairs, which Lily was nearing the bottom of and reaching out to pluck her off of them and onto his hip, "The birthday girl."

She smiled up at him, far too delighted with the fact it was her birthday to summon words and giggling in place of them.

"What'll it be for breakfast then, birthday girl?"

"Cake."

"You can't have cake for breakfast," he replied – less because he was bothered and more because he suspected Rosie wouldn't go for it.

"Can, it's my birthday! Breakfast cake!"

He raised his eyes questioningly to the redhead, who had stopped on the stairs to watch them.

She shrugged, "Lily always has cake for breakfast on her birthday."

He shook his head and carried her through to the kitchen, muttering, "Well I suppose if that's your tradition," depositing her onto a chair.

The older sister followed them through and began spreading jam and cream on to scones, before presenting one to the delighted child. He reckoned her mouth must hurt from smiling so wide, but she never faltered.

"That's a scone," he pointed out when he caught Rosie's eye.

"Scones are a type of cake," she replied, raising a brow and shooting him a look before going back to the range and starting up on making some bacon for him.

Obviously, in her ranking, scones made for a better breakfast food than a standard cake – and she didn't want him putting a spanner in the works. He smiled to himself, pleased he had known the idea of cake for breakfast didn't thrill her in its entirety,

Not that he could have put a spanner in the works anyway – Lily was clearly happy as a clam, jam dripping down her chin and landing with a splodge on her nightdress. He tried not to laugh as he took in the pained look on Rosie's face as she hurried over to dab at it with a cloth – not accompanied as her usual cleaning was with a gentle scolding about being more careful. Evidently, the child could get away with anything on her birthday.

"So, what other birthday traditions do you have besides cake for breakfast?" he asked, relaxing into his chair and lighting a cigarette, watching Rosie's arse as she crossed back to the range – she was dressed and wearing the trousers that were cut close to her hips and waist, ones that showed her shape really almost a bit too nicely.

"I get to wear a birthday dress, but this year I'm wearing my blue dress from London," Lily told him excitedly, her mouth still full of scone, crumbs going everywhere, "And then we open presents and I play with my presents and then I get to choose whatever I want for dinner. And we have a proper cake with candles and I blow them out and make a wish."

"It'll be a bit different this year though," Rosie said over the sound of the frying, flipping the bacon.

"How?" Lily demanded, her sunny demeanour suddenly clouding and her face scrunching into a frown.

"Well you'll have Katie to play with today, won't you? That'll be different to the last few birthdays, won't it? I'm sure Arthur will be over to see you too. And we'll need to go see Uncle Charlie as well."

She caught his eye and they exchanged smiles, both of them looking forward to seeing Lily see her horse for the first time.

"I've been having a think Lily," Rosie continued, "I reckon we should go see Uncle Charlie first thing, I don't think you should wear that dress and those lovely velvet shoes to the yard so if we go after breakfast you could wear something else then come back and get changed into your birthday outfit."

"Uncle Charlie should come see me, it's my birthday," Lily replied, her tone petulant and displeased at the suggestion – causing the smiles on both his and Rosie's faces to falter.

"Now, enough of that type of talk – you're the birthday girl, not the Queen of Sheba, alright? People aren't going to come travelling to pay you homage," he told her, putting just a bit of a growl into his voice.

"But it's my birthday!"

"Does that mean your legs won't work to walk to the yard?"

She glowered then grumpily said, "No."

"You like going to the yard Lily, what's the problem today?" Rosie interjected before he could reply.

"It's my birthday!"

"It is – and you're seven, so that's a little too old to be throwing a tantrum, isn't it?"

Lily huffed, then, seeming unable to decide upon an answer, put another bit of scone into her mouth, her face red.

Rosie put a plate of bacon and buttered bread to him and, after giving her arse his usual squeeze of thanks, he began assembling himself a bacon sandwich, biting into it and waiting to see if Lily would speak again – which she didn't. Whether that was because she had accepted they should go to Charlie's or because she was in a bad mood over having to go, he wasn't sure. But he was sure he didn't want a tantrum, or the retributions of it, spoiling her first birthday with him.

"Besides," he said once he'd swallowed, "If you don't go to Charlie's you won't get your birthday surprise."

She gave him a sideways, cautious look, "What's a birthday surprise?"

He gave her a smirk, "A present for you, from me and Rosie. And I'm sure Uncle Charlie and Curly will have a present for you too."

She shimmied in her seat, her earlier excitement resurrected in abundance; he didn't look to Rosie, whom he was sure wouldn't approve of the change in attitude at the mention of presents.

He smiled more widely as she grinned back at him, her mood gone, and asked, "Really?"

"Really," he nodded.

"Only Rosie gets me presents usually," she told him, "And then you got me presents too. But didn't think Uncle Charlie or Curly would get me anything."

He swore he could almost feel Rosie relax a little at the words – the truth of them, the lack of her expectations of presents from anyone other than themselves, being the proof that Lily was not becoming the entitled child Rosie sometimes seemed to fear she was.

She wasn't entitled, that was the thing. She just liked having things – and, well, he could hardly hold that against her, could he? And unlike him, she was pleased by simple things.

In a more pleasing vein, a likeness that they shared around things, was that she seemed to like giving presents as much as she liked receiving them – she was the one who had listed off that they should bring back presents from London for practically every damn member of the family, wasn't she? He remembered at Katie's birthday tea, the way she had watched everyone tearing into their presents as she gave them them, her own face elated at finding out people were pleased with what she'd bought.

If he had needed any more confirmation of his thoughts about her lack of entitlement, it was delivered when he came into the front room an hour or so later, ready to leave, to find Lily crying into Rosie's chest as her sister rocked her and rubbed her back, Finn standing by the sofa looking horrified.

"Bloody hell's going on here?" he demanded, flashing his eyes at Finn.

It was Rosie who responded, "Lily didn't realise she had all these presents here as well as having more at Uncle Charlie's and then Finn gave her his and she's just a little bit overwhelmed."

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

In a fit of brotherly love, Finn had decided to accompany them to the yard once Rosie had got Lily calmed down – he even had let Lily hold his hand most of the way. True, it had been after he had grabbed her by the back of her dress and yanked her to his side, telling her that her skipping about was "Bloody embarrassing, walk normally!" and grabbing her hand tightly to make her stop it, but the grip had loosened as the walk went on and by the time they'd arrived the four of them, Tommy reckoned, could have passed for the sort of family you saw in the adverts for the seaside - a mother and a father and two children who all looked like they actually liked one another. It was interesting, to realise that's what they'd have looked like in passing, when it wasn't what they were. Not that they didn't like each other, but in their relationships to one another. Just another way in which nothing in the world was as it seemed.

"There's my little chicken!" Charlie greeted them, as Lily dropped Finn's hand to run over to him, "Oh goodness!" Charlie made a show of huffing and puffing and pretending to struggle as he picked Lily up, "You were a little baby last time I held you – now you're almost too big, eh?"

"Am I really?" Lily asked, looking slightly aghast.

"Nah, just messing with you lass," Charlie reassured her, chucking her up in the air and catching her, "See?"

She grinned, waving over at Curly who was coming across the yard to them.

"Where's the horse?" Finn asked him whilst Lily was distracted.

"In the stable," Tommy replied, running a hand through Finn's hair and then clapping him on the shoulder, giving it a squeeze, "I'm right proud of you for helping me get the horse you know – and for managing to keep it a secret from Lily and the other kids, you did good kid."

Finn went rather red and grinned widely at the praise.

"And while we're at it, I'm pleased with you for coming in and asking about going to that fire last night. George and the twins got their hides tanned for going and you would've too if you'd gone without asking me, don't make the mistake of thinking otherwise, but you came in and asked and made sure I'd know where you were, and that's showing me you can be responsible, eh? You're turning into a good man, Finn," then, scared he had potentially overdone it, he cleared his throat and spoke over to Lily, "Right then – you ready for this birthday surprise?"

There was another bout of tears when the stable doors were opened and Lily came face to face with the horse, but eventually she settled and he carried her over to meet it properly – Rosie hanging back, still mistrustful of animals.

"Now we'll need to break him in, he's never had a rider before because he's young," Tommy told her, "So you and me will do that together, we'll need to come almost every day so he gets used to you and having a horse is a lot of work, Lily, you've got Curly to help you, Curly will keep his stable clean for him and feed him when you're at school, but you'll help brush him and clean him, you understand?"

She nodded, her little hands stroking down the horse's handsome neck, the black hair soft and silky. He wasn't stupid, he knew she would have agreed to anything in that moment, so taken was she with the animal, but he wanted her to know horses, to love them, like he had done. Not just to be like those stupid rich people who rode horses whilst taking nothing to do with them in between. People like that, in his opinion, had no business being with animals.

"You won't be able to ride him for long to start with, whilst he's getting used to you and, now, you listen to me here because this is very important, this is your number one rule, you understand?" he said, waiting till her eyes had left the beast to meet his, "You do not get on this horse without me, alright? Not without me watching you, leading you, keeping an eye on you, alright? You understand?"

"Yes Tommy," she nodded, her little face grave and serious.

"Good girl," he replied, kissing her forehead.

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

She fell asleep in his arms on the sofa that night before eight o'clock, clutching the wooden horse Katie had gifted her in one hand. To go with the horse, Charlie had made her a little stable, with a working hinged door, which Curly had painted to have a red roof to match the doll's house he and Rosie had bought for her at Christmas. He picked his way carefully around it and the myriad of other gifts that were strewn across the front room – the trousers Polly had made for her to wear for riding in, the various books Rosie had collected, along with the moses basket for the dolls, similar to the one they had bought for Katie, and the colouring books and pencils and paints that Arthur and John had brought around.

The toy car that Finn had presented her with earlier – which Tommy had a feeling had been stolen from a shop in town, because he sure as hell didn't know where Finn had got the money from (though he hadn't pushed on it because, well, firstly he couldn't prove it and secondly, he hadn't wanted to turn Lily's birthday into a day of Finn getting a hiding for sneaking off into town without permission) – had already been placed up the stairs, 'parked' at the side of the doll's house.

Tommy glanced around the room when he got to it. For all Rosie slept in it, it was very much Lily's belongings that covered it. He placed her down on the bed, still wearing her blue dress from London and the blue velvet shoes they had gotten to match it and stood back to watch in quiet amazement as Rosie deftly slipped off the shoes and dress without waking the child, laid her back down and went to the chest to pull out a nightdress, which he knew she'd somehow manage to get on the child without waking her too.

He wandered out of the room and down the corridor, his hand hovering slightly before he opened the door of Ada's room and looked in. It was as it had always been. The empty and unmade bed – untouched since she'd last slept in it. The gramophone he'd gotten her at her last birthday.

He missed her. She was like Lily, in that they both loved the excitement of things like birthdays. She'd have been insisting she'd do Lily's hair with that tong thing Rosie had bought her, just like she'd done it at Christmas, when the two of them had been all pleased with themselves as Ada had paraded around in her heels, clutching at Lily's hand and making her twirl around in her dress. He couldn't fault Rosie, the redhead was good at making a show of complimenting her sister and telling her how beautiful she looked in her things, but there was a difference between being told by someone that you looked good in something and having someone on hand to really enjoy it with you, the way Ada had done.

A boy, Polly had said Ada was having. He tried to imagine his sister, his baby sister, running around after a boy, trying to keep a boy in line. But he couldn't imagine it. If it had been a girl, he could have envisioned her buying dresses and prams and dolls and all the rest of it. But he couldn't imagine Ada with a little boy.

He felt Rosie's hand on his back and he reached to take it, giving her a squeeze.

"You alright?" she asked, obviously knowing what was going through his mind.

He drew her around to him and kissed her head, not answering her.

He had, for a minute, half thought about turning this room into Lily's room, giving Rosie the double bed to herself and a room that wasn't littered with toys. But he wasn't ready to do it. He wanted Ada to come back. Wanted this room to be hers, like it always had been – like it still was.

They had a moses basket for a doll in the front room, perhaps he should buy one for a real baby. Turn this room into a room Ada could have the baby in, a room for them both. Tell her it was here. Hope the reality check Polly thought she might be having could combine with a sign that there was a place her here, like there had always been, even when he'd been at his most angry with her, and bring her home, bring her back to him.

He was brought out of his reverie by the sound of the backdoor opening and he turned to go down and see who it was. The chances were of course that it was only Finn – but he couldn't be too sure. The Lee's would want their payback, he was sure of that. And he'd heard nothing from the IRA over the paddy who had been shot. Unlocked doors were ones to keep an eye on, especially when he had a baby upstairs – even if she was seven now.

It was just Finn though, in looking for a drink before he was heading back out.

Rosie poured out ginger beer and cut the boy a slice of birthday cake that he hadn't asked for but didn't turn down.

"What time do we go to the boxing at tomorrow Tommy?" Finn asked through a mouthful of icing and sponge.

"Leave here about six I think," he replied, "Why?"

"So I can tell Isaiah when to be here for."

"You both looking forward to it?" Rosie asked, to which Finn nodded.

The boy didn't care for horses, sure, but the excitement in him at the outing, planned in celebration of his own birthday, was as palpable as Lily's had been earlier when the stable door had been swung open.

"You decided if you're coming with us or not?" Tommy asked her, keeping his voice casual.

She looked suddenly shifty and glanced at Finn before saying, "Well, I wanted to talk to you about it Tommy – maybe later?"

He nodded, not sure what it was she didn't want to say in front of the boy, but not pushing on it.

He didn't have to wait long, Finn was eager to get back out and make the most of his newly extended time.

"So?" he prompted when the door banged shut behind his brother.

She hesitated, then went to the recipe book he had given her for Christmas, which she kept on the sideboard.

"Yesterday, after we finished in town – I went to my old house before I came back here, went to see about that letter that woman said she had put through my door on Monday night," she told him, pulling a folded sheet out from between the pages of the book and holding it out to him.

"I've been invited to a meeting tomorrow night Tommy – and I won't go if you don't want me to," she told him, her eyes locked on him as he shook open the folded paper, "It's all there for you to read yourself. But, well – I'd like to go."

Thank you as always for reading along and reviewing and favouriting - it really does make my day when I get those emails!

One of the comments on the last chapter had asked for the events of that chapter from John's POV, so I just wanted to throw some things out there and see what people would be interested in - for me I very much envision John being in a very angsty place at this point in the series, I've hinted at it in chapter 64 of this story when Tommy overhears John talking to Rosie and a little bit from a child's POV in The Cost Of Having Fun, but it's not explicitly obvious in this story perhaps because this is told in closed third person to Tommy. John admires Tommy a lot and doesn't want him to see him as weak, so he doesn't open up to Tommy quite about the raw depth of his own worries, instead covering them, as John-boy does, with humour. That, to me, fits with the canon of what we as viewers are given of John's situation in the first season, he's constantly available to Tommy or in The Garrison at night despite being a single dad with four kids which suggests he's not particularly involved with his children then in episode 4 we get him calling a family meeting seemingly a bit out of the blue to announce his kids are running rings around him, need a mother and he's going to marry Lizzie. So that's where my head is at with John.

In terms of writing about John - his situation breaks my heart a little bit and I think writing anything at the moment would be John in a very angsty, self loathing headspace and, because I am a soft hearted little sap, I can take angst but I do like it with a side of comfort.

ERGO, my point is - what I am thinking about doing at the moment is writing something from John's point of view but set in or around his wedding day - I haven't planned it out yet so I don't know if it will be set entirely from there with flashbacks included to things that happened before it that we've seen glimpses of in this or my other stories or if I'd do it chronologically but with the ending being the wedding day and things lifting, at least ending on a hopeful note for him.

So first of all, is that something you'd be interested in reading if I wrote it?

Secondly, if I did write it - what parts of this story would you want to see from John's POV?