Massive apologies for the long delay in posting. Life got very busy very suddenly and I just couldn't find the time to write. I've managed to get this next chapter done but it's shorter than usual and I'm still trying to figure out Rose's arc in this season. I have a vague idea but I need time for it to percolate into my brain. So, I can't promise regular updates, but the story is still ongoing. Thanks for your patience and please let me know what you think. Wenlock x

Rose sat for a while in the drawing room after Tommy had left, thinking about her options. She helped herself to Tommy's gin which, she had to admit, was very good gin. Staring into the fire, smoking another cigarette, Rose's mood sank even lower as she realised her options were incredibly limited. She could accept Tommy's demands and stay in Birmingham, toeing the line. This was the least acceptable option and Rose just couldn't bring herself to meekly submit to this. The other option was to go back to May's and beg her to let her come back. She could offer to work for just bed and board. Maybe she could help May get the business back on its feet. It was a long shot though - May would be reluctant to go against Tommy's wishes. Still, Rose thought, she'd ring her in the morning and see if she could persuade her. If not, maybe she could ask Ada if she could go and live with her in London, then at least she'd be out from under Tommy's close observation. But Ada was pregnant and, it would seem, working closely with Tommy now. The last option was to strike out and try and survive on her own. But where? And how? Rose sighed. She was tired and needed a clear head to make a plan.

She finished her drink and was about to stand up to go to bed when she saw Fred suddenly lift his head and look towards the door. She felt a prickle of fear. There was always an underlying sense of danger in this house and she'd forgotten what it felt like to always have to look over her shoulder. Fred stood up and pointed his nose towards door, sniffing furiously. Rose stood, looking round the room, wondering if Tommy kept a gun there anywhere. Then Fred's tail began to wag and he took a step forward. Rose frowned and looked as the door, which was slightly ajar, was pushed open. Her eyes dropped down as she watched a large bull mastiff trot into the room and head towards the fire. She stared at him in relief as Fred ran towards him, greeting him as if her were an old friend.

"Cyril!"

Cyril moved over to Rose, pleased to see her. Rose reached down and scratched his head. She had mixed feelings about Cyril. He was a sweet old dog but every time she saw him, she was flooded with memories of things she'd rather forget – betrayal, sorrow, a friendship lost. It was easy to forget at May's but not in Birmingham. She unpinned her hair and ran her fingers through it, loosening it and relieving the tension.

"Come on, Fred. Let's go to bed."

Fred gave Cyril one last sniff and followed Rose out of the room, leaving the bigger dog to settle down in front of the fire, his usual spot for the night.

Rose headed towards the guest room she'd napped in earlier that day, picking up her overnight bag from her old room on the way. She quickly changed and washed before getting into bed and falling asleep in minutes. But her sleep didn't last long. Once the exhaustion had passed, she began to dream – dark, fear-filled dreams. She had always had bad dreams but after she'd been at May's for a few months, her dreams became more of the usual surreal and unusual type which most people have. Being back at Arrow House changed that, however, and it wasn't long before Rose awoke from her dreams sweating and breathing erratically. Fred moved closer to her, nuzzling her face and licking her tears. She pulled him close and tried to get her breathing under control. Squeezing her eyes shut she tried to get the images out of her head that her mind had created as she slept. A lot of it didn't make sense, but she'd seen the face of the Italian she'd killed at the train station, she'd seen a man with a bald head and an evil smile, she'd seen John full of bullet holes, she'd seen Campbell walking towards her from the telephone booth. She'd looked down in her dream and found that she was holding a cat. She'd tried to drop it but it had its claws in her and wouldn't let go no matter how hard a frantic Rose tried to pull it off her.

As her breathing returned to normal, Rose sat up and rubbed her eyes. Reaching for a cigarette from the side table, she lit it and stood up. Moving to the widow, she pulled back the curtain and looked outside. This room was at the back of the house and had no window seat, so Rose leaned against the wall as she looked over the stables at the horizon beyond the trees. She was unsettled. Cat dreams always had a bad meaning, she knew that from Polly, but she didn't know what this one meant. She wasn't sure she wanted to find out either.

A few cigarettes later, Rose watched the sun rise in the cold sky over Arrow House. It was beautiful. She'd seen many a sunrise at the stud and, whilst they were all lovely, they never matched the sunrise in her childhood home. It was a raw kind of beauty here, the sun a deep blood-orange, rising and creating ragged, wild shadows across the landscape. And every time Rose saw it, she felt like she belonged. Her heart was drawn to the pure beauty of what she saw – it was authentic and familiar and calmed her. And it confused her. She didn't want to feel like she belonged there.

Rose watched a light go on in the flat above the stables. This was where Mal lived now. She thought about him in the stables the day before, leaning against the door frame in his waistcoat and shirt sleeves, his chestnut hair falling over his eyes, his green eyes sparkling as he looked at her. He was a sight for sore eyes and she had enjoyed seeing him. She'd missed him and she'd missed those times when the two of them had been young and had ridden all over the area together, laughing and talking about everything. She remembered how he'd been concerned about her drinking so young and his reluctance to teach her how to shoot a gun. She thought about his abject refusal to work for Tommy illegally and his determination to be different – not shaving the sides of his head, as all her brothers and a lot of their men did, not wearing the peaked cap pulled down to his eyes. She was drawn to his confidence and quiet inner strength. He was so different to the men she'd grown up with who asserted their power in various and violent ways. Rose felt safe with him.

The door at the bottom of the flat opened and Rose watched as Mal made his way to the groom's office where he would work out the tasks for the men that day. He shrugged an old tweed jacket on as he strolled across the courtyard. Rose sighed. She wanted to go out for a ride but she didn't want to see Mal. She couldn't fall for him, not now. He wasn't part of her plan to escape her past and create a new life for herself. Besides, she didn't deserve someone like Mal, she would only ruin his life too.

She turned away from the window. She needed to work out her next step and thinking about Mal would not help her to think straight. Eventually, she got dressed in the outfit she'd brought with her – a plain, burgundy dress with black piping and buttons, and a short black jacket on top. Tommy had left for London after he'd spoken to her the previous day and, as he hadn't yet returned, Rose decided it was safe to go down to breakfast.

In the dining room, Lizzie was already sat with Charles and Ruby whose face lit up when she saw Rose. And so, Rose enjoyed a breakfast full of chattering and questions. Even Charles joined in eventually and their aunt was soon up to date with their lives. Charles' face became serious.

"Daddy shot my horse."

Rose looked at Lizzie who rolled her eyes. She looked back at her nephew.

"Dangerous?"

The little boy nodded, tears filling his eyes.

"Dangerous was your horse?"

"Dad said that he would be mine when I was bigger but now he's shot him and that was mean."

Rose looked at Charlie and felt his betrayal. Tommy did whatever he wanted without giving a thought to how others felt about it. And yet Rose knew that, in this case, Tommy had made the right decision.

"Charles, Dangerous was ill, he would just have suffered. It was the kind thing to do to put him down."

Charles scowled at her. "That's what Uncle Arthur said, but it's never kind to kill. It's wrong. And Dad was wrong."

He jumped down from his chair and ran out of the room. Rose watched him go, surprised at his strong reaction. She looked at Lizzie again who was smoking a cigarette and ignoring her food.

"He's really upset, isn't he?"

Lizzie took a drag of her cigarette and looked back at Rose.

"Whoever knew a Shelby to overreact?"

Ruby pulled at Rose's sleeve.

"Aunt Rose, will you come and see my horse today? We can go after breakfast."

Rose was about to answer that she'd love to when Lizzie interrupted.

"You can't today, Ruby. We're going to Uncle Arthur and Aunt Linda's now and we're staying the night."

Ruby looked at her mother in frustration. "Why?"

"Because we are. Go upstairs and decide which of your toys you want to take with you."

"But I wanted to show Aunt Rose my horse."

"Well, you'll just have to do it another day. Go on now."

Ruby turned to Rose. "Will you be here when we get back, Aunt Rose?"

Rose hesitated. She had no intention of staying but didn't want to disappoint Ruby. Lizzie rescued her.

"Ruby! Go upstairs now and do as I've told you."

Ruby scowled, jumped down from her chair and stomped out of the room as her brother had just done. Rose sat back in her chair and watched as Lizzie stubbed out her cigarette.

"Are you coming back?"

Lizzie laughed dryly as she stood up. "I always come back, don't I? Can't stay away, me."

And with that, she too swept out of the room, leaving Rose feeling unsettled. Was Tommy's marriage in trouble? If it was, he deserved it. No one had been as loyal to him as Lizzie had and yet he still couldn't see how valuable she was to him. No one else would have put up with him, of that Rose was sure.

Remembering she had a phone call to make, she stood up, wondering if she should use the phone in Tommy's office. Deciding against it, she made her way to the library where she knew there was another one.

Her phone conversation with May was short and disappointing but not surprising. May was understandably distracted and, as much as she was sympathetic to Rose's plight, couldn't offer Rose her former position back just yet. May gave her a number of reasons, but Rose knew full well that Tommy had made it clear, in his inimitably forthright way, that May was not to take Rose back. Besides, May told her, all of Rose's things had already been packed up and were on their way to Arrow House as they spoke. Despite her deep disappointment, she remembered her manners and how to use to correct social etiquette and thanked May for her time, wishing her well. They promised to meet again very soon and then said their goodbyes.

Hanging up the receiver, Rose felt like another bolt had been slid across the door of her prison. She heard a car arrive at the front of the house and knew Tommy had returned. She heard voices in the hallway as he spoke to Frances and then it was quiet. Opening the library door, she saw Frances moving to put away Tommy's briefcase but couldn't see her brother. She opened the door wider and walked towards the housekeeper who smiled at her.

"Frances, my belongings are being transported here today. Please have them put in the back guestroom. And don't unpack them."

Frances looked at her in surprise. "The guestroom? But surely you'll want them in your bedroom?"

"If I'd wanted them in there, I would have said so. Please put them in the guest room."

"But it's the guest room, Miss Shelby."

Rose clenched her jaw. "And I am a guest, Frances."

With no intention of explaining herself further, Rose moved past the confused housekeeper and out of front door. She decided to go for a walk and headed towards the small woods which swept around Tommy's land. They were familiar to Rose and she spent a couple of hours walking and at times sitting amongst the trees, listening to the birds and the wind in the leaves. Fred was delighted to be going on a nice walk and ran here and there sniffing and exploring. It was a cool morning and Rose wished she'd brought a coat, but as the sun rose higher in the sky, she warmed up. Her mind was occupied with thoughts of how to leave. She had savings from the wage May had insisted on paying her, she had skills which would get her a job in an office and she was sure she could find a room somewhere to live in. The difficulty was how to get away without Tommy finding her. She would need to be very smart and think ten steps ahead in order cover her tracks. But Tommy's reach was wide and she knew it would be hard. Suddenly a thought into forced its way into her head: Alfie would know what to do. Stopping in her tracks, she felt the memories hit her as an almost physical pain.

Reaching an arm out to steady herself against a tree, she squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to bury them once again. It was hard – she could smell the rum in his bakery, see the dust in his office, feel his arms around her as she clung onto him in the silence of a confessional box. She saw his eyes crinkle as he grinned at her, heard his deep rumbling laugh, taste the sweetness of the apples he sent her. He had been her friend, her rescuer, he had taken her seriously and listened closely to her. He had protected her and he had betrayed her. A sob escaped from her mouth and she swiped a teat away from her cheek. She missed him so much, but he had broken her heart. And now he was dead which broke her heart even more. Alfie would indeed have known what to do but he was gone and couldn't help her now.

She pushed herself off the tree in anger. This was why she hated coming back home – all her memories and emotions and trauma came back to the surface and she despised feeling weak and vulnerable. She had to get away. Walking quickly back to the house with Fred at her heels, she began to formulate a plan.

The next morning, Rose woke early as usual, just before the sun, and made her way to the stables. She was keen to go out riding before putting some of her plan into action but wanted to avoid Mal. Quickly and quietly, she put a bridle on one of Tommy's geldings and led him out of his stall. She knew that the horse's hooves on the cobbles would wake Mal, but she intended to be a long way off before he managed to get outside. Pulling herself up onto the horse and riding bareback, she kicked the horse's flanks and cantered towards the tree line then up onto the ridge which overlooked the house. The horse was spirited but nothing Rose couldn't handle. She slowed him to a walk as she crossed the ridge and thought about her plan. There were a number of people she had got to know through May who would put her up for a while but she needed someone who wouldn't be intimidated by Tommy and his threats. And she knew just such a person – Oswald Mosely.

Oswald had been a frequent guest at May's dinner parties and Rose had seen him and his family at many of the events May had taken her too. Oswald was an intelligent and well-educated man who was a sitting MP. He was charming and cultured and had taken a shine to Rose, often engaging her in stimulating and eloquent conversation, revelling in her youth and attractiveness, basking in the attention she gave him. Rose, in turn, loved his attention and, whilst cagey about her background, looked for ways to impress him with her understanding of politics and business. She recognised the ruthlessness and ambition in him - after all she had grown up with Tommy - but she chose to ignore the warning signs, being instead flattered by his interest. And his was the name which came to mind when she was thinking of who would be an ally to her in her escape from Birmingham and the family she wished to put behind her.

Coming down the other side of the ridge, Rose began to head back to the stables. She was keen to pack her bag. As she approached the house, there was a sudden flurry of automatic gunfire, followed by the loudest explosions Rose had ever heard. The horse beneath her startled violently and rose up on his hind legs, neighing and snorting in fear. Rose had no chance of holding on and was thrown off him, landing heavily on the ground. She groaned in pain and rolled over only to see the horse's two front hooves fall towards her. And after that she remembered nothing more.