Chapter 1

Taking a deep breath, Clara James stops just outside of her boss's door, twining her fingers together in a weak attempt at hiding how much they were shaking. In the year she'd worked at Arrow House, she had seen many a maid hovering in front of this door, only to be dismissed moments later and then seen to swiftly gather their few possessions and leave the grounds. And in that year, never had Clara had to wait outside this door; she completed general day to day jobs around the house under Frances' watchful eye, opening the curtains, tending to the fires, dusting and the likes. In her recollection, and although her memory was poor at the best of times, she was sure, that in the past months and certainly in the past week, she had not done anything to cause a midday call from Mr Shelby himself.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Tommy sat, attempting to busy himself, when in reality, his mind was elsewhere. Specifically on the beautiful young woman who unbeknownst to him, was readying herself to knock on his office door. When he had sent for Clara by name through Frances half an hour earlier, Tommy had made a clear decision in his mind. He had been watching this young woman since they day she had arrived at Arrow House, had known her even longer; he had initially intended for her to be the nursery maid for his newly born son, however his decision had been overturned by Polly who had put forward the daughter of a friend of hers, the very nursery maid that he had released from the role an hour previous. Wanting to take Clara on nonetheless, having fought with her brother during the war and known her as a teen, being roughly the same age as her brother and having grown up together, Tommy had hired her as a maid, prepared to change her role as soon as possible. Their paths very rarely crossed, he would often only see the back of her head as she left a room she had been tending to, or taking a stroll through the gardens. And yet he knew that she was a gentle and caring soul, he had had the pleasure of seeing her around his son on a few occasions, and if his memories of the young girl he once knew served him correctly, as he was sure they did, that was exactly what he was looking for right now. That, and a little company, especially from someone like Clara, someone who had known the old Tommy and could help him find a little piece of that previous man to hold on to.

Following the realisation that Grace was with child, the couple had moved into Arrow House and had stayed there together until nearly a year ago when Grace had passed following Charlie's birth. Tommy tried to make as much time as possible to spend with his son, but travelling back and forth to Small Heath for business meant that that time was a lot shorter than he would have liked. And with business booming, and his travels taking him away from Arrow House so regularly, Tommy wanted to be completely certain that he trusted the woman looking after his son. As of that morning, Charlie's nanny had been dismissed following some rumours coming to light about the young woman, finally providing Tommy with the opportunity he had been waiting for, to employ Clara permanently as his son's nanny. Thomas Shelby had high standards, especially of the women he employed to care for his son, and now he was banking on taking advantage of the good will and kind nature of the young woman who was knocking timidly on his door. He knew she would be the perfect fit for the role, his fuzzy memories of her had stuck with him all these years, leading him to the clear decision in his head. This wonderful, beautiful woman he once knew so well, was the woman he wanted to get to know once more, and here was his chance, finally.

"Mr Shelby." Clara greets, hovering in the doorway of his office. "You asked for me?"

"Yes. Where's Charles?" Tommy asks, lifting his head to glance up at the young woman in the doorway.

"Sleeping." She replies softly with a frown, clasping her hands in front of her. "Shall I get Jane?"

"No." He states quickly with a shake of his head, thinking of the woman he had released from the role of nursery maid earlier that day. "Jane's gone."

"Oh." Clara gasps, brow furrowing further; she had been out of the house on odd jobs for most of the morning, clearly having missed the drama surrounding the dismissal of the older woman. "Is there anything else I can do to help, Mr Shelby?"

"Check on Charles. If he's awake, bring him down to me." Nodding at his command, Clara turns, heading back out of the room and towards the stairs, moving quickly towards the baby's room. Pushing the door open slowly, a smile spreads across Clara's face at the sight of the young boy sat upright in his cot, playing happily with his toys. She had a soft spot for the little one and loved whenever she was in the presence of Charlie, even just for a few moments. Cooing softly to him, Clara lifts the smiling boy into her arms, holding him close.

"Your daddy's looking for you, little one." She whispers in his ear, moving over to the window and drawing the curtains back, continuing with her usual jobs, even with the unusual request of being sent to bring the baby to her boss. "Better not keep him waiting." Continuing her pointless, one sided rambles, Clara heads back down the stairs, pausing in the doorway of Tommy's office once more, knocking lightly on the door. "Look who it is." She gasps playfully to a now cooing Charlie, pushing the heavy door open slowly at Tommy's call, finding him stood with his back to her, staring out of the window. Turning at the sound of her soft foot steps on the floorboards, Tommy stubs out his cigarette, striding across the room towards Clara. He stops, so close to her that she can smell his expensive cologne, lifting Charlie out of her arms and into his own, muttering his own greetings to his son.

"Thank you, Clara." He repeats. "You can go now." Turning away from her once more, Tommy clears his throat, calling out to her as she reaches the door, the young woman freezing immediately, turning back to face him. "I'll be speaking to Frances later. I want you to take Jane's position. You'll be relieved of your other duties."

"Yes, Mr Shelby." Clara nods, smiling gently up at him. "Will you ring for me? When you're ready for me to get Charlie?" Nodding in reply, Tommy turns away, moving over to the window, continuing his soft murmurs in Charlie's ear. Grasping that he was now finished with their conversation, she finally leaves the room, shutting the door gently behind her and hurrying down the corridor towards the stairs leading to the kitchen.

"So what do you think, my boy?" Tommy asks rhetorically, swaying Charlie in his arms behind the closed door of his office. "You'll get lovely Clara to look after you, and daddy gets to spend more time with the pretty lady, hmm?"

Carrying his son down the long upstairs hallway, Tommy stops just inside the bathroom adjoining Charlie's room, placing his son carefully onto the tiled floor. Rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, Tommy bends over the tub, running the water to fill the bath before turning his attention back to his son. Inside the nursery next door, Clara freezes at the sound of running water breaking the peaceful silence she had been working in, rearranging the furniture to better suit the days she envisioned she would spend up there with Charles. Pushing into the bathroom slowly, Clara gasps as she watches Tommy carefully undress his son, glancing up when he notices her standing, frozen in the doorway, eyes wide in panic.

"Mr Shelby, did you call for me?" She asks, stepping into the room. "I'm so sorry if I missed it, I-"

"I didn't call for you, Clara." He replies gently, holding up his hand to stop her panicked rambles. "You didn't miss anything, no need to worry."

"Mr Shelby, let me do that, please?" Holding her hands out towards Charlie, she steps back in shock as Tommy scoffs, shaking his head. "Mr Shelby?"

"I like to bathe Charles when I'm home, and available to. But if you would like to join us, we wouldn't object, would we Charles?" Smiling down at Charlie, Clara nods, dropping to her knees beside the little boy and taking his chubby hand in hers.

"Frances wouldn't be happy." She protests lightly, her eyes following Tommy as he turns off the taps, lifting Charlie into the shallow water.

"Frances is not your boss." He chuckles in reply, shifting to allow Clara to kneel beside him. "I am."

"That's true." Clara laughs, reaching out for the sponge and soap resting on the side of the tub. "Are you sure you don't want me to do this? I'm sure you're very busy, and have lots of work to get on with."

"I do." Tommy agrees with a nod, taking the lathered up sponge from her hands and running it over Charlie's body gently. "But I'm never too busy to look after Charles when I can."

"Oh, of course, I didn't mean any offence..." Trailing off at Tommy's teasing eyebrow raise and smirk, Clara sighs, sinking back onto her heels. "It seems you find me amusing, Mr Shelby."

"I find your nerves around me amusing." He states, cocking his eyebrow at her. "You have no reason to be nervous, Clara. This isn't a test. I'm not watching you to wait for you to slip up. I've known you nearly all your life. I trust you." Ducking her head, Clara's face flushes at his words, Charlie's squeals drawing her attention back to him, Tommy watching her still as she pushes onto her knees again, reaching out to brush a hand across his hair, clearing the soapy suds that covered the top of his head.

"I remember you well, Mr Shelby. Although I never saw you much after the war. Edward still speaks of you. He has a lot of respect for you." She says quietly, thinking of her brother who had been close to Tommy growing up.

"As do I." Tommy states, agreeing with the statements she had made. He too remembered her very vividly, the blush that would creep into her cheeks when she would find him lounging by the fireplace in her brother's house, the way she was always nearby, yet would try to hide in the shadows, careful not to draw any attention to herself, watching him intently nonetheless. He still remembered the day she interviewed for the job he had advertised, the way that same blush had crept onto her cheeks again when she had entered his office, her childhood crush that she was so sure she had kept under wraps and squashed in recent years flooding back in full force.

Lifting his son from the bath water as Clara finishes washing the soap from his hair, Tommy watches her drop back onto her heels out of the corner of his eye. "I don't keep in touch with your brother much."

"He speaks very highly of you, Sir." Clara replies, holding out a towel to wrap the baby in, smiling down at the sleepy child in his father's arms. "I see him every weekend, I go to his house for Sunday lunch. He always asks after you."

"And what do you tell him?"

"That you're a busy man. That I rarely see you, so I couldn't possibly pass comment on how you truly are, only how you appear to be." Gently rubbing her hands over the towel, Clara dries Charlie off, lifting him from his father's arms and holding him to her chest as she rises from the floor.

"And how do I appear?" Tommy asks, stopping Clara in her path to the nursery, pausing to consider her answer.

"Busy." She states with a small smile, repeating her previous statement and then continuing out of the bathroom. "Not like the old Tommy we used to know."

Holding her breath, Clara silently admonishes herself, both for her bold words and for changing the room around without the permission of Tommy, or even Frances, sensing rather than seeing him pause in the doorway of the bathroom, taking in the comment and the changes to the room.

"You've moved things around." He comments, shoving his hands in his pockets and watching Clara carry Charles over to the changing table, laying him gently onto it.

"Yes. I hope that's ok? I should have asked..."

"It's fine." Tommy replies with a shake of his head, stepping closer to lean against the wall beside the table. "I'm sure there was a reason for it."

"The sun shines in through this window in the mornings." Pointing over her shoulder towards the window, Tommy's eyes follow her finger, glancing around the room as she speaks. "It shines directly onto the crib, even with the curtains fully drawn. I'm sure it wakes Charlie up. So I moved the crib across the room. And it makes much more sense for the rocking chair to be beside the book case, and the changing table against the wall. That way Charlie's got all this space in the middle of the room to play."

"You've really thought this out." Humming in reply, Clara lifts Charlie into her arms again, stepping towards Tommy.

"Did you want to put him down to bed? Or me?" She asks, shifting the baby into Tommy's arms as he holds his hands out towards her.

"I'll do it. You should move your things into the room next door."

"Oh, I just assumed I'd stay in my room downstairs..."

"It would be best for you to take the room next door. That way you're close if Charles needs you in the night."

"Of course, Mr Shelby." Clara hurries to reply, nodding her head. "If you don't need anything else, I'll go and gather my things." At Tommy's nod, Clara casts one last look at the baby curled up in his crib, smiling softly to herself at the prospect of her new role, before slipping out of the room and to the servants quarters downstairs.

Upon reaching the room she shared with her friend Martha, Clara slumps down onto her bed, Martha glancing up from the book she was reading on the bed beside her.

"So? What did Mr Shelby want? You've been gone all afternoon!" Martha prompts, kicking her leg out to press her toes against Clara's thigh.

"You are looking at Charles Shelby's new nanny." Clara replies with a wide grin, turning to lay on her side, Martha's jaw dropping in shock as she rolls onto her side to face her friend.

"Get out."

"Well I will in a minute." Clara jokes with a laugh, curling her knees up to her chest. "Mr Shelby has told me to move into the room next to Charlie's. In case he needs me at night."

"You're leaving me? How could you!" Martha exclaims dramatically, placing her hand on her chest and rolling onto her back making Clara laugh. "Actually on second thought, there'll be more space in the wardrobe, so I'm not complaining. When are you leaving?"

"Martha!" Clara giggles, reaching out to swot her friend's arm. "You'll miss me really."

"I will. Course I will." Martha states, her expression turning serious. "You'll be ok up there by yourself?"

"Of course." Clara replies quickly, pushing herself up off the bed, beginning to empty her drawers. "You'll still see me at meal times, and I'll come downstairs when Charlie is napping."

"You'd better, else I'll go forgetting what you look like!" Martha jokes, moving towards the wardrobe to pull out Clara's clothes. "I'll help you move your things upstairs, Frances doesn't need my help until later." Thanking her friend, Clara and Martha fall into silence, quickly gathering up Clara's few possessions and making their way upstairs to her new room.

"Blimey." Martha breathes out as they step into the room that was double the size of their shared one downstairs. "Look at all this space!"

"Look at that bed." Clara gasps, tenderly reaching out to press her hand into the mattress on the large double bed. "Oh, Martha! Feel this!" Dropping the chest she was carrying to the foot of the bed Martha copies Clara, letting out a gasp at the contrast between this bed and their tiny single ones downstairs. Giggling to each other, the girls lock eyes, turning at the same time to throw themselves backwards onto the bed, laughing the whole time.

"Oh this is heavenly!" Martha moans, sinking into the soft sheets, stretching her arms and legs out. "I'm not bloody jealous at all!" Giggling along with her friend, Clara fails to notice a figure filling the doorway, smirking in amusement at the two women.

"I take it the room is to your liking Miss James?" Tommy calls, both Martha and Clara freezing in horror at his voice, bolting upright and straightening their hair and clothes.

"Mr Shelby, I'm so sorry..." Clara gasps, sliding off the bed, moving to stand beside it with her hands clasped in front of her. Mumbling an apology of her own, Martha joins Clara beside the bed, Tommy letting out a chuckle at their embarrassed expressions.

"No need to be sorry." He states, clearing his throat as his eyes find Clara's face, his thoughts clouding as he watches her take her lip between her teeth, an action that caused butterflies to erupt in his stomach...not a feeling he was familiar with. "I'm glad you're liking the room. I'll leave you to unpack."

"Oh my God, Clara." Martha breathes out once Tommy had turned on his heel and left. "Did you see the way he was looking at you?"

"No! What?" Clara exclaims, turning to her friend with wide eyes. "How was he looking at me? Do you think he's going to fire me already? God, what an idiot..."

"No, Clara, shut up. He's not going to bloody fire you." Martha huffs, taking her friend's hand in hers and pulling her to sit on the edge of the bed. "I think that's the last thing he wants to do."

"Then what..." Trailing off at the look in Martha's eyes, Clara tilts her head to the side, eyeing her carefully. "What's that look for?"

"He wants to get you into his bed."

"Martha!" Clara shouts, pulling her hand away to slap her friend's arm. "You can't say that! No he doesn't!"

"Yes. He does." Martha protests, raising her eyebrows at the flush that covers Clara's cheeks. "Good God, Clara. You want him to!"

"No. No I don't." Clara states, rising to move away from her friend, holding her finger out in front of her. "I want no such thing."

"Yes. You do." Martha laughs, throwing her head back and shaking it. "Ooh...this is going to be fun to watch!"

"Martha, stop. Stop it. He's our boss. I don't think of him like that."

"If you say so." Martha sings, rising from the bed, throwing a wink to her friend as she does so, bending to open the chest she had discarded earlier. "I give you two a month."

"Martha!"

"Oh come on, Clara! You can't lie to me. You like the man. Admit it." Sighing, Clara turns away from her friend, moving to hang her clothes in the wardrobe. "Clara..."

"Shush." Clara admonishes her with a shake of her head. "No more talk of this. Alright? My job is to look after Charles, and that is what I'm going to do. That's it."

"If you say so." Martha repeats, raising her eyebrow at her friend, whose cheeks were still flushed. "We'll see."

Directly underneath the Clara's room, attempting to push the thoughts of his son's new nanny from his mind, Tommy attempts to bury himself in his work once more. Perhaps having Clara so close would be more of a distraction than he had intended.