The rest of the weekend was strange, for Saoirse anyway. Joe acted as though nothing untoward had happened on Saturday night and despite the fact that Saoirse still felt upset and somewhat confused about everything that had occurred, she was afraid to bring it up with Joe in case it wound him up. Just like everything seemed to wind him up at the moment. Saoirse felt like she was walking on eggshells and it was a feeling that reminded her of her time back in the orphanage. Just the night before she woke up after another nightmare that she had been back there.

Saoirse would have been relieved when Monday fast arrived had she not been embarrassed to face her boss after what had happened. When she entered the office that morning, she decided that she needed to get her embarrassment about the night at the pub out of the way as quickly as possible instead of stewing on it, so she headed straight for the door to Mr Shelby's smaller, yet even more extravagant looking office.

"Morning Mr Shelby," she said. "I just wondered if you wanted me to make you a drink before we begin the preparations for your meetings this morning."

Tommy looked up and his face immediately softened subconsciously.

"Morning Saoirse," he smiled. "Pleasant weekend?"

"Yes, thank you," she lied. "Although there was one thing bothering me, so I wondered if I might talk to you about what happened on Saturday night."

"There's no need," Tommy waved a dismissive hand.

"Please," she said. "It would make me feel better if I could just apologise and then we could forget all about it?"

"Like I said on Saturday night, there's nothing for you to apologise for. You did nothing wrong."

"I understand that," Saoirse agreed. "But I just don't want you to think terribly of Joe for his rude behaviour. He's not usually so argumentative. He's just been struggling with his new job and I don't believe he was thinking straight. I don't think he meant to cause you any offence, Mr Shelby and I hope you will accept my apology on his behalf."

Tommy looked at Saoirse as she spoke; really looked at her. She seemed to believe what she was saying, yet he didn't for one minute believe any of it to be true. He had asked around Jacob's factory about their newest employee, and it seemed that already Joe had proved himself to be hot headed and temperamental. Tommy didn't trust the man one bit. He reminded him of another man he had once known.

"Saoirse, if it really means so much to you, I will accept the apology," he decided, because he couldn't bear to see discomfort pinching her face.

"Thank you," Saoirse smiled sincerely. "And will you let me have your suit cleaned?"

"Not a chance," Tommy shook his head. "Now is that the end of it?"

Saoirse smirked and nodded. "I believe so, Mr Shelby."

"Good," Tommy smiled thinly. "Now before you go to your desk, I'd like to tell you a story if I may?"

Saoirse eyed Tommy warily. "A story?" she questioned.

"A story," he nodded, lighting up a cigarette and leaning back in his chair. "Many years ago, there was a beautiful woman. She was so beautiful that it was said that even God cried when he first looked upon her in her mother's arms. As she grew so did her beauty and it was evident to all that she was as perfect on the inside as she was on the outside. One day she met a man, like all young women do, and she fell head over heels in love. Sweet words and gentle touches were all it took for the man to persuade the woman to give him her virtue. That virtue turned into a babe and a wedding soon followed before anyone could suspect a thing. And that was when it changed. You see, love had made the girl blind to the man's faults. She knew they were there; she had witnessed them many a time but when he looked at her it was different. He was different. Only he wasn't different. And eventually the rose-tinted glasses she wore faded to dull and she was left to suffer the consequences of her choice. If only she had listened to those around her, then it could have been different for her."

"What happened to the woman?" Saoirse asked, almost hypnotised by the gentle lull of Tommy's voice, which she had realised occasionally had an Irish lilt to them.

"She died not long after the birth of her sixth child," Tommy looked down at the desk and then his eyes flickered back up towards her. "But her spirit was dead long before that."

Tommy opened his eyes as the bedroom door creaked open. In the darkness he could just about make out the small silhouette of his sister.

"Why aren't you in bed, Ada ? If Dad catches you, he'll go mad."

"I couldn't sleep," Ada whispered, climbing over the bed to him. "He's hurting Mum again."

Ada sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the crack through the open door as though he wanted to slip through it and put an end to the noise downstairs. But he knew, they all knew, that it would only make things worse. Tommy, as the second eldest, had already gone down a while before and had received a back hander across the face for his interference that had left his nose swollen and sore.

"I'm scared Tommy," Ada sobbed, clutching at her brother desperately.

"I know," Tommy sighed, pulling Ada into his side and holding her close.

As his mother's screams floated up the staircase, Tommy closed his eyes and wished with all his might that he could do something; anything. He wished he was big enough, strong enough to go downstairs again and pull his father off of his mother and punch the man who left his wife covered in cuts and bruises. But he couldn't because he was only a boy. Small and pathetic. And that was the day that Tommy Shelby decided he would never grow up to be weak. He would never grow up and see any woman ever suffer in the way his mother had.

"Why are you telling me this?" Saoirse asked, swallowing down the lump in her throat.

"You don't need me to tell you why," was his answer.

He could see by the look on her face that she knew exactly why he was telling her, but he also knew that whether she chose to believe what he was saying was a completely different thing altogether. It was something only time would tell.

Tommy's story had played itself in Saoirse's mind for most of the day. Tommy had been completely right, she knew exactly why he told her such a story but she didn't want to believe that her relationship with Joe could turn out to be anything like that story.

"Your mind's far away tonight, love," Joe murmured, rubbing her legs which rested upon his lap as they listened to the radio together that night.

"I was just thinking," she sighed, opening her eyes to look at him.

This was the man she knew, the man she had fallen in love with. The man staring at her with such adoration in his eyes, adoration directed towards her.

"Why do you love me?" she asked suddenly.

"Why don't I love you is an easier question for me to answer, because if I was to tell you everythin' about you that makes me love you, we'd be here all day," Joe smiled, leaning over her and brushing his nose against hers, kissing her gently against the lips. She smiled back and captured his lips back, wrapping her arms around his body as he lay against her.

"Sometimes I don't understand why someone like you would love someone like me," Saoirse murmured. "You could have anyone, but you've chosen to saddle yourself with me. I mean, what do I have to offer you?"

"Everything," he muttered against her lips, looking deep into her eyes with such affection that it brought a lump to her throat. "You give me so much without even realisin' it and I'm truthfully so sorry for the grumpy twat I've been this past week. I've really not been myself and I shouldn't have taken it out on you at all."

"It's alright. I know you've been under a lot of stress, but please promise me that from now on when something's bothering you, you'll talk to me?"

"Aye, I promise, love," Joe agreed. "You have my word that I will never again raise my voice or my hand to you in anger."

Saoirse trusted the sincerity in his eyes implicitly, and when he carried her to the bedroom without a word, their lips caressing lovingly, she believed that everything would once again be alright.