Three weeks later

Churches always gave Saoirse an eerie feeling because they brought back memories she would prefer to forget. As such she always avoided them whenever possible, however, when Esme had surprisingly invited her to the christening of her and John's seven week old baby, she had been unable to refuse. Her friendship with Polly had really blossomed over the past few weeks with Polly visiting her more and more at the office or inviting her back to the house for lunch, and it was because of that she knew that the church christening had been at Polly's insistence. The christening was only to be a small family affair, Polly had explained, with the baby having already been welcomed into the world in the traditional gypsy way with the rest of their gypsy kin and Esme's family some weeks back.

The church service had been rather beautiful and Tommy and Ada accepted their roles as godparents proudly. Beside Saoirse, Joe squeezed her hand knowing how nervous she was, and it pleased her to no end that he had agreed to come with her. Saoirse had been somewhat surprised when Esme invited Joe as well, but as Polly had explained, any bad blood between Tommy and Joe didn't change the fact that Joe was Saoirse's fiancé, and therefore he was to be invited as well. Saoirse, of course, had no knowledge of the fact that Tommy had kicked off alarmingly about Joe being invited but Polly had curtly informed him that he could like it or lump it, but if he dared to ruin the baby's christening because of it she would give him a piece of her mind.

After the church service, everyone went back to the pub which had been decorated for the occasion and a lovely spread of food had been set up. Polly was ever the diligent host, wandering around the room making sure everyone had eaten enough and showing off her great nephew while Ada was trying to supervise John and Esme's other children and Finn, who were running around like wild animals.

"Hello, you two," Polly smiled when she reached Joe and Saoirse who were sitting out of the way, keeping mostly to themselves. "I hope you've both had plenty to eat. There's so much left so help yourself to more if you want it."

"Polly, if I eat anything else, I'll burst," Saoirse chuckled, smiling when she reached out for the baby's hand and clamped his fist around her finger. "Joe'll probably manage to fit a bit more in though."

"You tryin' to call me fat?" Joe muttered indignantly although the jest was clear upon his face. "I'll have you know I'm stuffed too."

"Well, so long as neither of you go away hungry, I'll be happy," Polly murmured. "I couldn't ask you a favour could I, Saoirse? Would you hold the baby while I just go and find Esme so we can get the cake out? You should see it. Tommy had it made up at that fancy cake shop by the train station in town. Do you know the one I mean? Anyway, it's absolutely beautiful."

"Of course not," Saoirse held her hands out for the baby who immediately seemed to recognise her and he gave a gummy smile. "Before you dare try and tell me it's wind, I'm just telling you he's smiling at me."

"Hmm, if that makes you feel happy then why not," Polly looked unconvinced, lowering her voice slightly as she rolled her eyes at Joe. She was trying her hardest to make an effort with Joe for Saoirse's sake, even though she still didn't trust nor like the man one bit. "Saoirse always thinks he's smiling at her, poor deluded girl."

"Ach, well if it makes her happy," Joe smirked, looking down at the baby and his face softening when he saw how natural Saoirse looked. "He's a bonny wee lad, isn't he?"

"Well, I think so," Polly agreed. "But I'm biased."

"No, he's perfect," Saoirse looked up briefly before flashing the baby a brilliant smile. "You're the bestest, most beautiful boy aren't you? Oh, and you're a bit of a smelly boy too."

"Phwoar, I reckon we could have used this little fella durin' the war," Joe grimaced. "He would have stunk out the entire German army."

"I'll go and change him while you sort the cake out," Saoirse offered.

"You're an absolute angel," Polly squeezed Saoirse's hand gratefully. "There's a bag with spare clothes and napkins behind the bar."

Saoirse stood and that was the moment when Joe remembered that he had agreed to go and celebrate one of his workmate's birthdays.

"I understand though, if you'd prefer me to stay here so you're not on your own," he said. "I only said I'd try and make it but it's not the end of the world if I don't go."

"No, don't be daft," Saoirse shook her head, bouncing the baby up and down gently as he started to cry. "I'll probably only be here for a couple more hours anyway. You go and have a nice time with your friends."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," she smiled genuinely. "Go and have yourself a good afternoon and I'll see you tonight, ok?"

"You're the best," Joe brushed his lips against her cheek. "See you later, love."

"Well, that was a real stinky bum, young sir," Saoirse cooed to the baby as she finished dressing him. "I wonder what your aunt Pol's doing right now? Shall we go and find her?"

"Trying not to smack John in the face," Tommy's voice sounded from the doorway of the cellar where Saoirse was changing the baby. "He was helping her and Esme with the cake and managed to drop the top tier of it, and now Polly's having an absolute fit. Anyone would think this is her baby's christening."

"Oh dear," Saoirse grimaced. "In that case I think I'm glad to be out of the way."

"Why do you think I came to hide," Tommy murmured. "Joe not down here with you?"

"No, he's gone actually."

Tommy knew this, of course, because he had been discreetly watching Joe and Saoirse all day and was following the Scot's every move. For some strange reason though, he just wanted to hear from Saoirse that the man had left.

"So, you're stuck with this little monster," Tommy commented, a smile forming on his face as he gazed down at his nephew.

"Better than being stuck with Polly right now," Saoirse commented. "Do you suppose she'll wonder where the baby is if I hide down here with him for a bit longer?"

"Nah," Tommy shook his head, lighting up a cigarette. "But I'll be hiding down here too until it's safe to go back up."

"Tommy Shelby, you're not telling me you're afraid of your aunt, are you?" Saoirse burst out laughing.

Tommy couldn't think for a moment about her words because he was entranced by the delicate tinkle of her laugh and the way it made her eyes twinkle. She was beautiful and she didn't even realise it.

"She's terrifying," he answered finally. "I wouldn't want to be my brother right now."

"Is your Daddy in trouble?" Saoirse pulled a funny face to the baby who smiled and let out a little gurgle, so she held him upright for Tommy to see his face. "What do you think Uncle Tommy? Is that a smile like Saoirse thinks or wind like aunt Polly thinks?"

"I think it's a smile," he murmured. "But if you ever tell Polly I'll deny it and say I agreed with her."

Tommy put his cigarette in his mouth and let it dangle out of the corner of his mouth while he scooped up the baby out of Saoirse's arms. Seeing him holding the baby with such gentleness made Saoirse's stomach feel funny and she quickly tried to push the feeling away. It was just a man holding a baby, nothing special, so why did it feel as though it was?

"This little terror kept me up all night with his squealing, didn't you, you little bugger?" Tommy pretended to bite the baby's nose. "I could hear him through the wall, wide awake at every hour. It's a good job you're cute and not an ugly fucker like your Dad otherwise me and you wouldn't be friends today."

Saoirse smiled. She had never seen a man so comfortable with a small baby before and she realised it suited him. He might have a reputation as a scary gangster, but he had the makings of a kind and loving father. Anyone could sense that just watching their interaction together. The baby waved his fist in front of Tommy's face and tensed up before letting out a loud gust of wind.

"Oh, is that better now, little man?" Tommy hummed quietly as the baby's eyes already began to drift closed. "That's it, get yourself to sleep and I'll keep you safe."

"You're good with him," Saoirse commented as Tommy came to sit down beside her on one of the barrels. "Do you have a big family? I mean, apart from your brother and such?"

"Massive actually," he nodded, taking a final drag of his cigarette before flicking it onto the floor and extinguishing it with the toe of his shiny brown shoe. "They're all dotted around the country travelling, as is their way. When I was a lad we travelled a lot with them; stopping in various camps and what not but nowadays I prefer to stay in one place for business."

They sat for a while, Saoirse and Tommy, listening to the baby breathing softly and every so often hearing sounds of arguing coming from upstairs. She turned to tell Tommy that perhaps they really should go up and help, only to find him looking at her pensively.

"What?" she frowned, following his gaze where it fell upon her lips. "Do I have something around my mouth?"

As she began to scrub at her mouth, Tommy took hold of her hand gently and he could feel the pulse in her wrist begin to flicker faster as their eyes locked upon one another without moving. He moved his head closer towards her and she continued to watch him, waiting as though entranced by him. He was so close she could feel his breath upon her face and she could smell the faint aroma of the beer he had been drinking.

Suddenly the door burst open and an angry looking Polly came stomping down the stairs, completely unaware of what she had just interrupted.

"There you are, Tommy, I've been looking for you," she chided. "Your idiot brother's ruined the top of the cake and now he's stormed off in a mood somewhere. Will you go and find him and drag him back here? Tell him to stop being a bloody baby."

And just like that the magical spell was broken. Tommy looked completely calm as though nothing was amiss and perhaps it wasn't. Perhaps he had had no intention of kissing her and she had just mistaken his intention. Either way, she needed to leave. She needed to get away from him and gather her senses.

"I, erm, I've changed the baby, Polly," she stammered nervously, getting to her feet. "But I really had better be going because I forgot that I've got an appointment."

"On a Sunday?" Polly frowned.

"Yeah," she nodded, running up the stairs as fast as she could before pausing briefly at the top. "It really has been a beautiful afternoon. I'll see you in the week."

"What the bloody hell was all that about?" Polly raised an eyebrow at Tommy who just shrugged lazily.

Inside though, his heart was beating ten to the dozen. They had been so close and all he could think about was that her lips had parted expectantly and her breathing had quickened. There would be another time, he would make sure of it.

Saoirse lay in bed, listening to the rhythmic tick tock of the small clock on her bedside table and chewing her lip apprehensively. It was after midnight and she was alone in the flat. Joe was still not home and Saoirse found herself unable to sleep. Knowing Joe in the way she did, she understood that he was a terrible judge of time, and when he was caught up in the moment of having fun, he didn't often think of anyone or anything else, so he most likely hadn't realised how late it was. However, it was now over two hours since the pub would have closed and she was beginning to think that perhaps something might have happened to him.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Saoirse grimaced as the frigid night air wrapped itself around her body. She reached for her dressing gown and flung it around herself before lighting the small lantern next to the clock because their electricity had gone off again. Ironically their flat was situated in one of the few buildings that the Shelbys didn't own. The sudden thud at the front door startled her momentarily, but then she couldn't help chuckling when she heard Joe's unsteady footsteps stomping down the hallway, accompanied by the sound of him muttering to himself unintelligibly. Still chortling, she followed him, however, her mirth quickly turned to shock and dread when she entered the kitchen and set her eyes upon him.

"What on earth happened?" she gasped, her eyes wide with horror as she took in his dishevelled appearance. His nose was bloody and he had a nasty looking gash down the side of his left cheek. She was certain that if it wasn't for the meek light of the lantern, his face would have looked a damn sight worse.

"I'm fine," Joe muttered, his breath stinking of rum. "Just got into a little bit of a tousle is all."

"It looks to me that it was a bit more than a tousle," Saoirse pursed her lips, pouring some water into a bowl and bringing it over to the kitchen table.

"Ach, you should see the other guy. Well actually he got away fairly lightly compared to me. He was at an unfair advantage considerin' he had two friends with him."

"You really should go to the police about this. Three against one isn't a fair fight; it's downright disgraceful. Can you remember what they looked like? And where were your friends from work when all this happened?"

"Saoirse, the police would laugh me outta the bloody station. And my pals had already left at this point. I was just finishin' my drink and I was about to head off myself when this happened."

"That's even worse. You were just minding your own business, enjoying a quiet drink and you were set upon for no reason."

Joe didn't answer and instead just closed his eyes to doze. He didn't want to look at Saoirse while she cleaned his face tenderly. He didn't want to have to tell her the truth about what had occurred. He didn't want to tell her how he had tried getting a little friendly with some girl at the pub, knowing full well that her boyfriend worked with him at the factory. When the girl had refused his advances, he had been unwilling to be deterred until her boyfriend and two other blokes from work had got into a fight with him about it.

"Anyway, I think you'll live," Saoirse smiled, kissing him gently on the cheek once she had finished cleaning him up. Once she had wiped the blood away, his cuts were fairly superficial and she found her initial worry eased somewhat.

"You're a good nurse," Joe smirked, running his hands under her nightgown. He pulled down her underwear and caressed her bare bottom, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh. "I'm sure your healin' hands will fix me. Or maybe if I'm a good boy you can kiss me better?"

"Hmm," Saoirse purred, sitting on his lap. "Shall we go to bed? I'm certain I could tend to you better there."

"I reckon I could be persuaded. Let me just get another drink."

Saoirse climbed off Joe's lap and watched as he meandered on wobbly feet to the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of rum. Yanking out the cork with his teeth, he spat it out before downing almost half of the bottle without coming up for air.

"Joe, stop," Saoirse chuckled and tried to take hold of the bottle. His grip was strong though, and continuing to giggle, she tried to prise his fingers from around the glass neck. "Come on, I think you've already had enough don't you?"

And with those few words, Joe's demeanour abruptly changed. His eyes turned even darker and before she even knew what had happened, Saoirse found herself on the floor with a split lip and blood pouring down her chin. Joe yanked her up roughly by the shoulder and growled into her face.

"I think it's for me to decide when I've had enough, don't you? What? Got nothin' to say? No answer for me? Should have kept your mouth shut a few seconds earlier and then you wouldn't have made me do that."

Saoirse said nothing. She couldn't have even if she wanted to. She was terrified of the man before her. He may as well have been a complete stranger, for he was nothing like her Joe. Her bottom lip wobbled and tears splashed onto her cheeks.

"Oh, for fucks sakes, I didn't hit you that hard," Joe snarled. "Stop your whinin' and get yourself into bed. Be a good girl for me and we'll forget all about this, right?"

"I don't want to," she whispered, her voice shaking as much as her body.

"You don't want to?" Joe pulled a mocking face. "That's not what you were sayin' two minutes ago."

"Well, I changed my mind."

"Fuck you, you little slut."

And with that, he stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. Saoirse stood there for a few moments, her entire being quivering. She heard him banging around in the bedroom and worried that he was going to come back out. But eventually all fell silent, and she could hear his faint snores through the paper-thin wall.

Lying down on the small couch, she curled up into a ball and squeezed her eyes shut. She willed herself to cry, but the truth was that numbness spread throughout her entire body. Joe had done the one thing she had been certain he would never do, and now she had no idea how to process it. Sleep would be a long time in coming.