Tommy had checked out James's story and it had all been legitimate. He had been in the orphanage and his parents had died. As far as Tommy could tell, the boy had nothing. He was destitute and was simply trying to make ends meet. Tommy had watched his wife interact with him and he knew that Elizabeth had a maternal instinct. She always had done. It had come natural to her when they had had Charlotte. Since she had been teaching, it had only continued to increase.
She had introduced Charlotte to the young boy. He was twelve years old and Charlotte was seven, going on eight soon enough. In terms of maturity, there was a gulf between them. Yet, James had been pleasant to her. He had asked her what she enjoyed doing at school and she told him while he told her about the favourite stories he had enjoyed reading while in education. Elizabeth had watched the scene and then looked to Tommy who was sat at the head of the table, leaning back and holding onto his whiskey. She gave him a sly look and his lips quirked, nodding his head at her and knowing what she was seeing.
They rarely saw Charlotte interact with other children outside of school. Most parents seemed hesitant to send their children to Tommy's home after school. Elizabeth had been concerned that being a Shelby would be a detriment to Charlotte growing up. Tommy's reputation usually preceded him.
After dinner, Elizabeth had let Charlotte show James around the gardens before it grew dark. Elizabeth had helped Frances clear the table after eating and Tommy retired into his study, his usual place of hiding. Elizabeth sought him out after finishing helping Frances, looking at him as she moved towards his desk.
"I told you that he was a good kid," Elizabeth said to her husband.
"Never doubted it," he responded, reaching for a cigarette. Elizabeth tugged it from his lips before he could light it. Standing in front of him, she dropped it onto the table and Tommy looked entertained at her. Folding her arms over her chest, Tommy reached up and let his hands rest on her hips. "Why do I get the feelin' yer goin' to ask me somethin' 'ere?" he wondered from her.
"Because I am," she spoke. "Tommy, maybe…maybe James could stay here until we find somewhere safe for him? Or until he has a home to go to?"
Tommy nodded his head and sniffed. He kept his grip on her, his thumbs roaming over her hipbones. She leaned forwards, hands going to rest on his shoulders. "I knew yer were goin' to ask me that," Tommy said. "I'll sort somethin', Liz, but it will be safe. I promise yer."
"Thank you," Elizabeth said, bending down and kissing him. "So when are you going to go to the orphanage?"
"I'm goin' with Arthur tomorrow mornin'," Tommy informed his wife. "James can stay until he 'as somewhere to go…he's a kid. He's just a kid, Liz."
"I know," Elizabeth whispered and Tommy steered her downwards, perching her in his lap. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, holding onto him and allowing him to burrow his face against her neck.
"Do yer think about 'em often?" Tommy dared to wonder. He never really raised the past with Elizabeth. He didn't like to go back to that time, knowing that it had been emotional for both of them. They hadn't gotten on with each other and had been distant in their relationship.
"Yes." It was the only word Tommy got in response, feeling her clinging tightly onto his shoulder.
"Yeah," was all Tommy responded with. "So do I."
…
Tommy had said that he would pick Charlotte up from school. He had gone to the orphanage with Arthur that morning and warned the nuns of what he was capable of. He'd met Elizabeth in his office. She had been going over the books and was due to meet Andrew to go over recruitment costs. Tommy had said that he would pick Charlotte up from school and see Elizabeth back at the house after Finn had said that he would drive her home. He was still busy working in the bookies.
Standing outside the school gate, Tommy wondered if he would ever get used to the way people looked at him. It was almost as though they were shocked to see a father pick up their child. When the bell rang and the school door opened, Tommy dropped his cigarette to the floor. He stood on it, moving his foot back and forth. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he waited until he saw Charlotte.
She was wearing her grey school uniform, her grey beret hat on top of her head. Tommy struggled to believe that his daughter was seven years old. She had grown up so quickly and he wondered when it had happened. He dreaded the day when she didn't need him to pick her up from school. Or when she was too old for him to hold her hand. He wondered how he might cope when that time rolled around.
He saw her running towards him, brushing by the other school children. Her smile widened when she saw her father and Tommy wondered if she looked at Liz like that when she picked her up. Or was it because this was a novelty? He didn't know, but he had no complaints. He moved his hands from his pockets as she jumped into his arms. He managed just to pick her up, holding her against his hip as her satchel almost fell from her shoulder.
"Why are you picking me up?" she asked from him and he turned on his heel, letting her slip down to the floor again. He took her hand and they began to walk down the street.
"Mummy's workin'," Tommy said to his daughter. "She is busy for another hour so I said that I would pick yer up…take yer to the sweet shop if yer want to go?"
"Yes," Charlotte beamed, nodding her head.
"So, how was school?" Tommy asked.
He had left the car parked round the corner, but he suspected it would be fine while he went to the shop just down the other street.
"Good," Charlotte said to him. "We had a spelling test today and I got one wrong. I was really annoyed. It was beautiful."
"Getting one wrong is not bad, Charlotte," Tommy said, keeping hold of her hand in his, coat swinging open behind him as he heard people mutter as they walked with their own children in the other direction. "Yer know that yer can't get everythin' right all the time."
"But I want to," Charlotte said to him. "Anyway, I have been thinking about what I want to do when I grow up. Boris Mander was asking what we wanted to do at playtime."
"When yer grow up?" Tommy checked with his daughter.
"Yes," she said.
"Yer know that yer don't 'ave to think about that, don't yer?" Tommy asked his daughter.
"Why not?"
"Well," Tommy coughed, "we 'ave enough money…so if yer want to work then yer can…if yer don't want to then yer don't have to."
"But I want to," Charlotte said. "I want to be a doctor."
"A doctor?" Tommy asked from her, turning down the street. "Why do yer want to be a doctor?"
"To help people," she responded, looking at him as though it was the most obvious answer she could give him. He nodded his head, contemplating what she had just said. It was another moment before she continued. "I want to help people…like that doctor helped mummy when she was sick."
Tommy nodded. He had taken Charlotte into the hospital a few times to see Elizabeth while she had been in there. They had not explained what had happened, only that Elizabeth had been ill and needed to have an operation. Charlotte had come into the hospital and had met the doctor on duty who had taken her around and shown her the different equipment. She had been fascinated by all of it.
"Do yer really?" Tommy mumbled.
"Can I be a doctor?" she wondered from her father. "Boris said that girls can't be doctors."
"Yer can be whatever yer want, Charlotte," Tommy said to his daughter, squeezing her hand encouragingly. She beamed at hearing that, face lighting up considerably more than normal. "Now come on, we'll get mummy some sweets too, shall we?"
Tommy let his daughter choose whatever she wanted, but she mainly picked what Elizabeth would like. Tommy picked her up so that she could see the jars of sweets on the top shelves. He paid and Charlotte took the bag before they returned to the car. He helped her into the vehicle before jumping in himself. Charlotte picked at some of the sweets on the way home.
"Don't eat too many before dinner," Tommy warned her. "Yer wouldn't want to be too full for dinner, would yer?"
"No," Charlotte said and tucked a strand of her curly hair behind her ears. She turned to look to her father. "Is James staying again tonight?"
"Yeah," Tommy nodded. "Why?"
"I like him," Charlotte said, popping a bon bon into her mouth and letting it sit in the corner. "He was telling me his stories about living on the street…it sounded horrible. We won't let him go back there, will we?"
"No," Tommy said simply to her. "We won't."
"Good," Charlotte said and Tommy looked across to her, knowing that his daughter had inherited that kind nature from her mother.
…
Tommy's breath came out in short pants as he kept a hand on his wife's hip and moved his hips against hers. She had her back pressed against his front, his hand snaking around and holding onto her chin as his other hand held her hip. Elizabeth had a hand braced on the side of the sink and another resting flat on the wall in front of her. He listened as his wife continued to moan, trying to keep her voice down.
"Tommy," she groaned his name and that was enough to tip him over the edge.
He finished with a few final thrusts, moving against Elizabeth and bringing her over the edge too. She bit down onto her hand, tugging it from the wall and bending over slightly. Tommy bent lower with her, keeping his front against her back, lips moving against her ear and around her cheek.
"What was that?" Elizabeth asked, managing to gather her breath as Tommy moved from her, straightening himself out and letting her skirt fall down to cover herself again. She let out deep breaths and Tommy sniffed.
"Does a man need a reason to want 'is wife?" he asked from her.
She laughed and looked in the mirror above the sink, straightening out the blouse she had tucked into her skirt and Tommy moved his tie.
"No," she responded, "but usually you can wait until the evening and not drag me into the downstairs bathroom."
"Thought it was safer than the study," he responded and she splashed water on her face, trying to cool herself down. "Plus, we 'ave a quiet 'ouse. That never usually 'appens."
Frances was entertaining Charlotte and James for the evening, leaving Elizabeth and Tommy to have time to themselves. They left the bathroom and Elizabeth felt like she was sneaking around in her own house. Moving into the sitting room, she sat on the couch, curling her legs underneath her, still trying to cool down. Sitting down next to her, Tommy moved his arm over the back of the seating.
"I was talkin' with someone from the office in the States," Tommy said to his wife. "Michael is makin' a move in the narcotics business. He's usin' 'is wife's connections."
Elizabeth's eyes widened. "And you didn't tell me earlier?"
"I'm 'andlin' it," Tommy promised, lighting a cigarette, rolling it between his lips. He pulled it from his lips, blowing out a puff of smoke. "He is a novice, Liz. He thinks that 'e can be big…he 'as no idea."
"What are you going to do?" Elizabeth worried. "He is still your cousin."
"I will do what I 'ave to."
"Tommy," Elizabeth warned her husband and he shrugged.
"I'll deal with it," was all he responded with.
"Do you want me to talk to him?"
"No."
"I can talk to Pol?"
"No."
"Do you want my help?" she tried.
"Not in this," Tommy said. "Trust me, Liz. I know what I can do. I will deal with Michael and that will be the end of it. I'll let yer know what 'appens…and I'll ask yer for advice…but I don't want yer to feel like yer 'ave to get involved in this."
Elizabeth sighed and tossed her head back. "What went wrong?" she wondered in a small whisper.
"Michael got too big for 'is boots…but not for long…" Tommy said. "Anyway, I was talkin' with someone in London the other day. They asked if we 'ad a violin teacher for Charlotte."
"What…no…wait," Elizabeth held her hands up. "How have we gone from Michael to violin teachers?"
Tommy let his finger tangle into her hair. "Tryin' to distract yer," Tommy said.
"I am not easily distracted."
"I could take yer into the bathroom and see if that's true," he teased and she nudged him in the ribs. He laughed and pulled his cigarette from his lips once more. "It's fine, Liz. Don't worry."
"Well, keep me informed."
"As always."
"And we are not getting Charlotte a violin teacher," Elizabeth said firmly. "She has never expressed an interest to play an instrument and I am not forcing that onto her. I had enough forced on me as a child and it was horrible."
"Fair enough," Tommy said.
"Violin teacher," Elizabeth rolled her eyes and moved, leaning against Tommy's side. He dropped his hand to hold onto her shoulder and kept his grip firm, pecking the top of her head as his mind wandered back to Michael and how he was going to deal with Pol's son.
….
A/N: Do let me know what you think!
