Looking at all the books lining the study's shelves, Rose wondered if Tommy ever read them. She took one down. It was a Sherlock Holmes novel, A Study in Scarlet, by someone called Arthur Conan Doyle. Reading the summary, Rose was intrigued; she wondered if he'd let her borrow it. Hearing footsteps approach the door, she quickly put it back and stepped away. She wasn't sure what Tommy wanted to talk to her about. She watched the door nervously wondering what kind of mood he'd be in and what her fate was to be.
Tommy paused at the door to the study. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say to Rose. He'd called her away from Alfie because he didn't want her with him. Seeing her leaning against Solomons on the front steps just now had felt like a knife in his heart. It should be him that she was leaning on, him that she turned to for support, him that she came to if she was troubled. It always used to be. What had changed? He sighed. He was tired and beginning to feel the effects of not having had any morphine for a while – muscle aches, stomach cramps, sweating - to name a few. He wiped a sleeve across his forehead, took a deep breath and opened the door. She was stood near his desk, looking at him nervously. The worried expression on her face made the knife in his heart twist a little. Time was, her face lit up when she saw him. She'd run to him, raising her arms to be lifted up. He remembered how tightly her little arms would squeeze him round his neck when he hoisted her up. She would sit back on his arms and hold his face in her hands and ask if he'd brought her some sweets. He always had. Looking at her furrowed brow as she stood in his study - she seemed so small in the large room - he turned from her so as not to give away his feelings and closed the door. He wanted to fix what was broken between them but didn't know how.
Rose frowned as he closed the door. She hadn't missed the shadow of sorrow which passed over his face just before he'd turned round. She clasped her hands in front of her, wringing them with concern. Why was he sad? Was he disappointed? Had she upset him somehow? She wished she could make him happy the way she used to. No matter how serious he was when he walked in the door, he always broke into a smile when he saw her. She would often wait for him to come home, getting under Polly's feet as she hung around the kitchen. Things weren't quite right until he was back in the house and, if he returned late in the night, Rose couldn't sleep properly until she heard him come in. Often she would get up to see him and even though he scolded her for being out of bed, he would still smile and lift her up for a hug before carrying her back up to bed. She looked at the floor as Tommy turned back round, not wanting to see his sad expression again.
Turning back round to walk to his desk, Tommy didn't look at Rose directly. Nevertheless, he felt her anxiety as he moved past her and noticed in his peripheral vision that she was looking at the floor. Was she feeling guilty? Was she upset? Was she afraid? He always used to know what she was thinking and feeling, but it wasn't quite so easy these days. He sat down behind the desk, took out a cigarette and lit it, before looking up at Rose. She turned towards the desk as he walked past her and slowly lifted her gaze off the floor, locking eyes with him as he looked at her. They regarded each other for a few seconds, both of them so familiar with the person in front of them, it felt like they were looking in a mirror. And they both instinctively knew how much they missed the closeness they'd once had and how much they both wanted it back.
Tommy indicated the chair next to Rose with his cigarette. "Sit down, Mouse."
Rose sat down in the chair, perching on the edge which was the only way her feet could reach the floor. He offered her a cigarette but she shook her head. She wasn't really in the mood. He cleared his throat.
"That was a clever move you pulled earlier, coming in here with that dog whilst he was still here. You knew I couldn't say no."
She thought about denying it but knew there was no point. She said nothing. This was what he was going to berate her for and she just wanted him to get on with it.
"It's the kind of thing I'd do."
She looked at him in surprise. Had he just complimented her? Noting her surprise, he smiled slightly.
"Everyone always says you're just like me. It's no wonder you're smart."
Rose found herself smiling back at him. Tommy enjoyed the change in her expression. Her face brightened and her violet eyes danced. She was a little beauty and he adored her. He wondered if she knew that.
She caught the look of affection in his eyes and noticed how much his face changed when he smiled. It became softer and his eyes became warmer and she wanted to stay with him forever. He was the person she loved most in the world. She wondered if he knew that.
"Are you lonely, Mouse?"
The question took her by surprise. It wasn't usually the kind of thing he asked her. The wariness returned to her face as she tried to work out what she should answer. He saw the change in her demeanour.
"It's ok, you can be honest. I just want to know."
So, she was honest.
"Yes, I think I am."
He nodded. He wasn't surprised. The minute Alfie had told him why he'd given her the dog, he saw it too. Rose was lonely. He'd wanted her at Arrow House to get her out of the city, away from the smoke and the violence. He wanted her close to him, because he wanted to protect her and because he needed her. He'd given her a job and a horse because he thought that was all she needed. But then Grace died. And he'd had his accident. And the Russian Business had taken over his life. And Rose was lonely because it wasn't the countryside or a job or a horse that she needed – it was him. He cleared his throat again but found he couldn't speak. He was trying too hard to control his emotions. Mistaking his hesitation for disappointment, Rose continued, wanting to explain.
"I miss Watery Lane. I miss my friends. I miss the family. I miss everyone living at Number Six."
"I know."
Now that she'd started to open up, Rose found she couldn't stop.
"And I miss you." She swallowed to stop the tears she could feel rising in her throat.
"I know." Tommy's voice was barely above a whisper.
"Because even when you're here, you're not. And even when you say you're back, you're not. And Arthur is leaving and Ada is in London and Polly is too all the time these days and Finn's an idiot but I never see him and John keeps having children."
Tommy could see the sadness and frustration in her as she took a shuddering breath, trying to calm down.
"You feel like you don't belong anywhere."
Her mouth dropped open. He understood how she felt. Her eyes filled with the tears she couldn't hold back any longer. And then he surprised her even more as he opened up to her in a way he never had before.
"I know how that feels. When I came back from France, I wasn't the same man who'd left Small Heath four years earlier. I couldn't go back to how life was and I didn't want to. Arthur did, but I'd seen how people like us were just canon fodder for those who were richer and more educated and better than us. I wasn't going to be taken advantage of again. So I worked to improve the business and to get as much money and power as those men who didn't think twice about sending us to our deaths. And now, here I am – more money than I can spend, a big house, a stable full of horses, working with politicians and royalty. Do you know what I've realised?"
She did. She'd seen it at Hampton Court. "You don't belong with them."
He jabbed his cigarette at her. "That's right. And I don't want to belong either. People like you and me, Mouse, we make our own place in the world, we choose our own life."
"But I don't feel like I have my own life. I have to do whatever you decide I have to do. I live where you tell me to live and I work when you tell me to work. You never ask me what I want or what I think. I feel - powerless. Like I'm riding a horse I can't control and he's galloping at a hundred miles an hour and going wherever he wants and I have to hang on or I'll fall off and die."
His lips turned up at the corners a little. She always did have a flair for the dramatic. She thought he was mocking her and frowned. She clamped her mouth shut and pulled her knees up, hugging them to her chest. She wished she hadn't been so honest now. Tommy watched all this with dismay. He didn't want her to withdraw from him.
"I'm sorry, Mouse. I wasn't laughing at you, I promise. The image of you on a runaway horse just made me smile, that's all. Please don't stop talking to me. I'm listening."
She knew he was. She could tell. Keeping her arms wrapped round her knees, she took a deep breath and continued.
"Tommy, that night, at the dinner with the duchesses…"
She broke off, not able to talk about it. But he knew what she meant as he watched a tear fall from each eye.
"Rose, I wish I'd never taken you that night. I didn't know Jarvis was going to be there. I should have known, I should have taken you away the minute he looked at you, I should have protected you."
She nodded. He should have. But the fact that he was acknowledging it went a long way to helping her feel like she could start moving past it. She didn't want to think about it anymore so she changed the subject to the next thing on her mind.
"Can I tell you something? When Michael was staying here, when you were in hospital, he told me that the only person I could rely on was myself. He said that no one else would be there for me, that everyone just thinks of themselves. He said that I had to find out who I was without you in case you died. But I don't know who I am without you, or without Arthur or Aunt Pol. And it scared me, because you were in hospital in London and I'd been so afraid that you might die and then Arthur told me he was leaving for California." Her voice broke a little and she looked down at her hands. "I can't do it on my own."
Tommy's face hardened as he listened to her. Michael had been out of line to say those things to her. His cousin was being drawn to the illegal side of the business, allowing his darker nature to surface more and more. Tommy felt he had good reason to want to kill the priest, but telling Rose that no one would take care of her and that she was alone was too much. He had begun to sense a strong ambition in Michael which he was wary of. Was he trying to pull Rose away from the family, trying to get her on his side in case of future conflict? He wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to rule anything out. Nor was he going to let it happen.
"Mouse, look at me."
Rose lifted her eyes to his and she felt immediately reassured by the firm gaze he directed at her; his clear blue eyes holding hers, earnest and reassuring.
"You won't ever have to do it on your own. I will always be there for you. Your family will always be there for you. Even Arthur would race home from California if you needed him to. And, if the worst was to happen, Rose – you are strong enough to get through it. You're a Shelby and you've been a fighter from the minute you were born. There's plenty of time for you to work out who Rose Shelby is, and until you do - well, life with me isn't too bad, is it?"
"That's what Alfie said."
Tommy's eyes hardened.
"Mr. Solomons. You're to call him Mr. Solomons. He's not your friend."
Rose bit her lip. "Actually, I think he is."
Tommy took a moment and lit another cigarette, thinking carefully about what to say next. He didn't want her to pull away again.
"Alfie Solomons is not a good man."
"Neither are you. Or Arthur, or John."
Pulling on his cigarette, Tommy didn't say anything. It pained him to hear what she thought about him. She realised how it must have sounded and tried to explain.
"I mean you're good to me, and to the family. But you've done bad things. And so has Alfie, but he's good to me too. He listens to me and takes me seriously. And he's funny – he makes me laugh."
She shrugged a little as she looked at him, not sure how he would take what she'd just said. She knew he would feel jealous of how fond she was of Alfie, but there was no point lying about it. There was a reason she felt closer to Alfie than to her own brothers at times and she just hoped that Tommy would hear what she was saying rather than allow his feelings to take over.
Tommy was indeed struggling with keeping his emotions under control. He hadn't liked what she'd said about why she considered Alfie her friend and even less happy with her pronouncement that he and Alfie were similar. He felt inherently superior to Alfie Solomons and wasn't impressed that his young sister didn't feel the same way. However, he couldn't deny what she was telling him about being heard and taken seriously. Alfie had told him there was more to Rose than he was aware of and that she could be an asset to him. Maybe it was time to swallow his pride and begin to look at his sister in a new light.
He nodded, agreeing with himself in his head. He was the adult in this relationship and it was down to him to make the changes needed to help this girl in front of him to manage the cards life had dealt her. He regarded her as she waited nervously for his reaction.
"Don't I make you laugh, then? I tell great jokes."
At this, Rose laughed out loud. The thought of Tommy telling jokes was extremely amusing. Tommy found himself laughing with her and the tension in the room was immediately replaced with a feeling of release. Rose let go of her knees and let her legs dangle from the chair.
"Tommy, can I ask you something?"
"Go on." He relaxed in his chair, pulling on his cigarette.
"What was it like when Mum was alive? I mean, what was it really like? When you were little."
Exhaling the smoke, Tommy lifted his eyes above her head as he thought about his childhood, something he hadn't done for a long time. He looked back at her, wondering why she wanted to know.
"Money was tight. Dad would spend what money he had in the pub and mum didn't always have enough to keep food on the table. We used to steal bread and eggs and anything else we could from the shops. Arthur was good at poaching and we ate a lot of squirrel. Us kids didn't spend much time at home. I loved the horses, like you, so I was out with them a lot. John would come with me sometimes. Arthur got into a lot of fights and Ada – well, I don't really know what Ada did. She was with her friends, I imagine. Dad disappeared for a long time and then it was really hard. We were old enough to get jobs but we mainly worked in the shop with our granddad who was a tough old bastard. But he knew how to run a bookies and we all learned the trade from him. Along with other criminal skills. Then, Dad appeared again. Not that anyone wanted him to. Finn was born and then you. You know the rest."
"And Mum, how did she cope?"
Tommy looked at the end of his cigarette and then flicked the ash into an ashtray. He shook his head and turned to look out of the window.
"She didn't. She took tablets, she prayed, she saw ghosts. Dad would beat her twice as much as he beat us. She tried to keep us in line, but gave up eventually. We pretty much took care of ourselves. By the time Finn was born, she was barely holding on. It scared us. She would talk about things that didn't make sense and be out all hours at séances. I don't know who she was trying to contact."
He looked back at Rose, leaning on the desk with his arms. "Our mother was a good woman, Mouse. She was strong and smart and loved us kids, but it all got too much for her. When you were born, I swore that you wouldn't grow up like we did, that you wouldn't be afraid of a fist or a belt, that you'd never know what it was like to have to steal the food for your table. I wanted you to be a child for as long as possible. I just want to keep you safe and give you the life you deserve."
As Rose took in everything he told her about his childhood and their mother, she understood that she had been yearning for something which had never existed. The mother she imagined had always been a mythical figure and, had the real one lived, Rose's life wouldn't have resembled the idyllic fantasy she'd held in her head for so long.
"I didn't know that's how things were for you. I … I'd imagined things to be different. I thought Mum was… I always wished she was still alive and that I could have grown up with her like you did. But that's not…."
She allowed the sentence to hang between them. Tommy began to realise that Rose had grown up feeling that something was missing in her life and had longed for the perfect mother to fill the gap. He was watching her struggling to come to terms with the fact that that mother and that life only existed in her imagination. His heart broke for her.
"Come here, Mouse."
"What?"
He pushed his chair away from the desk and beckoned Rose to him. "Come over here."
Rose stood up and approached him, not knowing what he wanted. He patted his lap when she reached him and reached out a hand to her. She shook her head.
"I'm too old to sit on your lap. I'm too big."
He swatted her argument away with his hand, took her wrist and gently tugged her onto his lap. She resisted only a little and allowed him to guide her to sit sideways onto his lap, put his arms around her and pull her to him. She lay against his chest, her head under his chin, her hand resting on his waistcoat and molded herself into the familiar position. She breathed in the familiar scent of whiskey and shaving soap and exhaled slowly. This place was so familiar to her.
Tommy felt her relax in his arms and noted how perfectly she fit against him. He marvelled at how small she was for her age, barely the size of an eleven year old, really. Out of habit he laid his hand flat against the ribs on her back, feeling each breath she took, looking for any signs of chest infection. He didn't find any. He moved his hand to her head and stroked her hair away from her face, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. He smiled – honeysuckle. He kept his hand on her head, his fingers gently gripping her thick red, and swiveled his chair slightly so they could both look out of the window. Rose had one last thing she wanted to say.
"Alfie told me about your plan to tunnel under the Russians' house."
"Alfie Solomons has a big mouth."
"Yeah, he talks too much."
"So, what do you think?"
"About what?"
"About the plan."
Rose pushed herself upright and looked at Tommy surprised.
"You're asking me what I think about your plan?"
Tommy smiled at her. "Yeah, I am. Tell me, I'd like to know."
She stared at him for a moment, working out what to say, tilting her head to one side as she thought things over.
"I have some questions."
"Ok"
"How will you dig the tunnel? You can't do it all on your own."
"You're right, I can't. I have friends coming up to help."
"Soldier friends?"
"Yes."
"How will the Russians not see you digging a giant hole in the field next to their house?"
"I've bought that land. Johnny and three Lee families will camp there. We'll dig the hole under a tent."
Rose grinned. "That's clever."
Tommy nodded. "I know."
"How will you know where to dig the tunnel to?"
"We have the plans for the house and think the strong room is one of the underground rooms. Me and Arthur and John have been invited to a party at the house tomorrow. Alfie will meet me there and we'll be taken to the treasury to choose the jewels for the payment."
"And the payment is because you're stealing some armoured vehicles for them?"
"Yes"
"And you're making the city of Birmingham go on strike to do that?"
"Yes"
"That's impressive."
He smiled smugly. "I know."
"And they won't pay you like they promised?"
"No, they'll kill me."
"What if they find out that you are planning to steal their jewels?"
"Well, then we're in trouble. But there's no reward without risk."
She frowned, processing everything she'd just heard.
"And the priest? I don't understand how he's involved."
"He works for a secret branch of the British government which is working with the Russians to start a war against Communists."
Her eyes widened. "The British Government wants to start a war?"
"Well, yes, but not officially. Anyway, the priest is secretly working against the Russians. It's complicated."
"That priest is an evil man. And he really doesn't like you."
"He is. And the feeling's mutual."
"He seems to know everything though. What if he finds out about the tunnel?"
"He won't, there's no way of him knowing. And I know more about him than he knows about me. He'll be dealt with."
Rose didn't want to know what that meant. "I have a bad feeling about him."
Tommy brushed her hair back over her shoulder. "You don't need to worry about him, Mouse. Do you trust me?"
"Always."
"Then don't think about him. You'll never have to deal with him again."
Leaning back on Tommy's chest, his arms wrapped round her again, Rose felt safe. Tommy knew what he was doing.
"Do you want me to help dig the tunnel?"
Tommy laughed. "I'm not sure you'd be much help. You're certainly small enough to fit in the tunnels but you'll need stronger muscles than these to dig through all the clay and dirt."
He squeezed her biceps, still laughing at the thought of Rose digging in the tunnel. She slapped his hand away, smiling.
"So, what can I do?"
He was about to say she didn't need to do anything when Alfie's words came back to him – "give her some responsibility." Despite himself, he decided to take his advice.
"We're opening the institute next week. Grace had been planning it all and Ada took over for a while but there are a few things still to do – guests to be added, flowers to be ordered and we still haven't chosen the children's uniform. Do you think you could help with any of that?"
Rose, still leaning against his chest, couldn't quite believe he was asking for her help with something so important. She beamed but didn't want Tommy to know how delighted she was. So she shrugged her shoulder.
"Yeah, I can do that."
"Ok then, consider yourself hired!"
Tommy settled back in his chair and pulled Rose closer to him. He was beyond tired now.
"You're not alone anymore, Mouse."
Rose tightened her arm around him and watched a couple of swallows out of the window, swooping and dancing in the sky. They flew so close to each other but never once collided. She wondered how they did it. Gradually, she became aware of Tommy's breathing becoming more regular, his chest rising and falling slowly under her cheek. She felt his breath on her hair and heard him gently snore. He was asleep. She stayed perfectly still on his lap, not wanting to wake him up, watching the swallows, listening to his heartbeat. She felt, for the first time in a very long time, like she belonged.