Tommy looked at Rose's pale face, her violet eyes closed, her red hair contrasting starkly with the white bandage wrapped around her head. He pulled a hand down his face and swore quietly. He hurt everyone he allowed to get close to him and he was tired of it. It seemed like there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Was he cursed? Or was he just bad? Plenty of people believed he was both. Was there any good in him at all? As he looked at his younger sister, he thought about how Rose had always seemed to personify the good inside him. She was just like him – cut from the same cloth, Pol had always said. As far as Tommy was concerned, if Rose was doing well, then he must be doing something right. But now, as he looked at her lying still in the hospital bed, he knew he couldn't be doing anything right. He was losing her – her, of all people. She was his heart, she always came back to him, she always forgave him, she always loved him. But now she wanted to leave Birmingham, leave the family business, leave him.

He reached out and took her hand. It still seemed so small in his, no bigger than when she had been a child. He tightened his fingers round it gently and rubbed the back of it with his thumb, thinking about all the times he had held that hand to keep her by his side, protected and safe. He thought back to the car journey to the hospital as he'd held her on his lap, barking at the driver to go faster. Holding a napkin against her head wound which Frances had pushed into his hand when he'd rushed through the house from the stables shouting for the car, he looked down at her and felt the panic rise. There was blood everywhere now, it had soaked through the napkin and was dripping onto his coat. She was in and out of consciousness – groaning, her face contorted in pain. She said Fred's name a couple of times and Tommy watched as tears fell down her cheeks. He held her tighter and spoke soothingly to her.

"I'm here, Mouse, don't worry. We're going to the hospital, you'll be ok."

Rose was agitated, not fully coherent, mumbling and squirming against him. Tommy held her firmly, making sure she didn't hurt herself. He kept talking to her, trying to calm her down and eventually, she settled against him. Her hand moved up to his shirt and she gripped hold of the buttons there, just as she had done when she used to snuggle next to him in the middle of the night when she'd had a nightmare – holding tight to her brother, to the safety she felt by his side. She fell unconscious again and as Tommy felt her slump in his arms and her hand drop from his shirt, he yelled again at the driver to go faster.

Rose woke up before she opened her eyes. She felt woozy and like she couldn't quite surface to consciousness. It was a strangely familiar feeling and she slowly realised that she was under the influence of barbiturates. She barely had time to process this as she became cognisant of her surroundings. As it became clear she was in a hospital, memories of why flooded back and she felt her heart break.

Someone was holding her hand and gently rubbing it. She knew it was Tommy – she could smell his shaving soap and cigarettes - and she felt overwhelmingly grateful that he was there. She always longed for him when she was sad and, although she had persuaded herself that she didn't need him anymore, it was his presence alone which anchored her at that moment. She tightened her fingers around his.

Tommy felt her gesture and stood up quickly from his chair to sit beside her on the bed. Her eyes were still closed but she was now frowning and he knew she was coming back to consciousness. He ran his other hand lightly over her hair.

"Rose? Can you open your eyes?"

Rose didn't think she could. She felt groggy and unable to move. Tommy continued to stroke her hair.

"Keep trying, Mouse. Come on, open your eyes."

Rose frowned even deeper and groaned. Very gradually, she managed to take control and, working hard, opened her eyes. Blinking in the light, her sight slowly came into focus and she gazed into the eyes of her brother - those familiar, ice blue eyes studying her face worriedly.

Tommy visibly relaxed when Rose managed to open her eyes and he smiled as he watched her deep blue eyes focus on his.

"Welcome back."

She smiled back at him and then winced. There was a sharp, throbbing pain emanating from the site of her injury. She raised a hand to her head but Tommy gently took it and put it back down on the bed.

"Don't touch it, Mouse. You have quite a few stiches in there. The doctor said you were lucky not to fracture your skull. As it is, you have a severe concussion."

Rose's eyes filled with tears and she tightened her grip on Tommy's hand. Her voice was hoarse and quiet.

"Fred."

Tommy swallowed a lump in his throat. He knew the pain of losing a loyal and beloved animal. He thought of Dangerous and the gun he'd held to his own head after shooting his beautiful stallion. He stoked Rose's cheek.

"I'm sorry, Mouse. I am."

The tears fell from her eyes and ran down towards the pillow. "He was really hurt, Tommy. I couldn't save him and I couldn't stop it. He suffered so badly." Her breath hitched. "I didn't know the horse would rear, I didn't. There were gunshots and then an explosion – it was so loud and I couldn't control him. What happened? What was it?"

Tommy frowned as he looked at the pain in his sister's face. What could he tell her? That it was his fault? That he had a new enemy who had left a calling card in his field. He had a sudden memory of sitting in his office with an eleven year old Rose, making her promise to never lie to him again and making the same promise to him in return. They'd both broken that promise many times since but maybe it was time to start keeping it again. So he told her the truth about the Billy Boys and about Michael coming home a potential traitor and about the scarecrow.

Rose listened to him in silence. None of it surprised her and she felt suddenly exhausted. She closed her eyes briefly and tried to block him out; she didn't care about any of it. All she knew was that Fred had died because of the continued trouble Tommy always seemed to attract. Tommy noticed how tired she looked.

"But there's no need for any of that to worry you. I'll have it fixed soon. The doctor says it'll be a while before you're back on your feet which means a few weeks rest back home, eh? I'll make sure you're well looked after. You'll be grand in no time."

And with that, all of Rose's walls went back up. She didn't want to spend weeks in bed in Arrow House. She didn't want to be looked after by Tommy's staff. And she certainly didn't want to be any more indebted to him. Her brow furrowed and she shook her head, about to protest. She regretted the movement immediately as the pain doubled, ricocheting round her head. She gasped and put her hands to her head.

Tommy's face fell as he saw her in more pain. "I'll call for the doctor, he can give you some more pain relief."

Rose's eyes shot open and she grabbed him by the wrist as he moved to get up.

"No, Tommy, I don't want any more drugs. You should never have let them give them to me in the first place, you know that."

Tommy took her hand off his wrist and stood up.

"Don't be ridiculous, you need them. You'll be in agony without them."

He strode to the door as Rose called out behind him. "No, Tommy, please. I don't want them again."

Ignoring her, Tommy pulled open the door and yelled for a doctor who arrived swiftly. Tommy's foundation had established and funded the hospital and all employees knew to run at his bidding. At Tommy's request, the doctor prepared a syringe with more barbiturate and, at Tommy's urging and despite Rose's weak protestations, plunged the needle into her arm, pushing the opiate into her body. Rose quickly fell into a deep stupour and, as Tommy wiped the tears from her now still face, he told himself that she would thank him one day.

A week later, Rose was back at Arrow House, Tommy having paid no attention to her request to go to Polly's or even Ada's. He was determined to have her under his roof and to make things right with her. He'd had her put into her own bedroom, having made sure her belongings had been moved back in there from the guest room. The doctor had sent her home with barbiturates and Tommy made sure that Frances kept them away from Rose and administered them as ordered by the doctor.

As a result, Rose was recovering steadily. She was feeling less nauseous, less dizzy and her permanent headache was easing. She was now able to make her way to the bathroom which she was very relived about. She had hated using the bedpan. She was able to sit up in bed and eat small amounts, though she really had no appetite. She had given up resisting the painkillers, in fact, she welcomed the escape they gave her from her pain, both inside and out. She felt the loss of Fred as if she'd lost a limb. He had always been by her side and now there was a gaping hole where his presence had been. More than once, she reached out her finger, expecting to feel a soft head or a wet nose. She felt lonelier than she had ever felt in her whole life.

Tommy wasn't able to see much of her – his work in London and elsewhere kept him busy. He felt bad about not being there for her, but Rose didn't care. She didn't want to see him. He made sure that a family member checked on her every day. Rose didn't welcome these visits; she wanted to be left alone. She had been glad to see Arthur when he popped in one day, but he was distracted and only stayed for half an hour, spending the entire time talking about Linda and his marriage problems. Polly saw her a few times but she was also distracted by Michael's reappearance, and Lizzie put her head round the door every so often to ask her if she needed anything. She didn't see the children and assumed they were being kept away.

One afternoon, Rose was sat up in bed looking at the clouds move across the sky through her window, when there was a knock on the door. She looked at it, expecting it to open and Lizzie's head to appear. The door stayed shut, however, and Rose realised that whoever it was was waiting to be invited in. She frowned - none of her family did that. Not even the staff waited after knocking. She reached out her fingers to touch Fred as a new situation faced her. Her fingers touched nothing and she clenched her fist. The knock came again, tentatively this time, and she found her voice.

"Come in."

The door opened and Mal appeared in the doorway. He was in his groom's uniform and looked at her with great concern.

"I sneaked up to see you. Is it ok?"

Rose could have cried when she saw him. He was someone who held no bad memories for her. He was outside of the family and made no demands of her. Her eyes filled with tears and she didn't trust herself to speak, so just nodded.

Mal looked quickly behind him and moved into the room, closing the door quietly. His heart had sunk when he'd seen Rose. She was pale and had dark shadows under her eyes. She'd lost weight and looked gaunt and fragile. He walked over to the bed and stood by it, wondering if he should sit down on it. Rose looked up at his concerned face and couldn't keep the tears back. Her face crumpled and she put a hand up to her mouth to try and keep the sobs at bay. Mal didn't think twice as he sat down on the bed, reached out and pulled her gently into his arms. Rose put her arms around his neck and leaned against him, her face buried in his neck.

Mal held her close to him as she cried softly, her wet tears falling onto his collar, and knew in that moment that he wanted to hold her for the rest of his life. She was at the same time vulnerable and yet so strong. She had been through so much and he longed to take her away from it all and start a life of their own together. He laid his cheek gently against her head and waited for her to stop crying.

Rose buried her face in Mal's neck and breathed in the scent of horses and straw and leather polish. She felt his strong and gentle arms around her and heard his heart beating steadily in his chest. She cried for Fred as she clung onto him, feeling comfort in his arms for the first time since she'd lost her best friend. She felt completely and utterly at home in Mal's arms in a way she'd never experienced before – like she belonged there. She felt herself calming down and as, she stopped crying, she leaned into him and realised that she didn't want him to let go.

Sitting in each other's embrace, a comfortable silence filling the room, something occurred to Rose and she pulled away from him. Mal longed to keep hold of her, but he didn't; the moment had passed.

"What did you do with Fred?"

"I buried him in the orchard, like you wanted."

"Beneath the apple tree?"

"Yeah."

She nodded. "Thank you."

"Why did you want him put there?"

Rose paused for a few seconds. "The person who planted that tree gave me Fred."

Mal knew who that was. "Alfie Solomons? He planted that apple tree?"

Rose couldn't help but smile. "The first time I met him, he gave me the most delicious apple I'd ever tasted, and then he used to send them to me every week from London. Can you believe it? Every week he sent a man with a basket of apples to drive all the way here. He told me that one day, he'd plant that apple tree himself in the garden and he did. I wasn't here, we had to move back to Small Heath cos of the Italians and then when I got back…"

The smile dropped off her face as she remembered that it was when she'd got back from Margate that she'd found out that an apple tree had been mysteriously planted in the orchard at Arrow House. Rose hadn't eaten a single apple from it.

Mal watched her face fall and sighed. Sadness was never far away for Rose.

"Lie down, Rose, you look tired."

She was. Lying back on her pillows, she looked at him.

"Will you take me to see his grave?"

"Of course. As soon as you're well enough."

"Tomorrow?"

"Will you be well enough tomorrow?"

"Definitely."

He laughed softly. She was always determined. "We'll see."

"Will you come and see me again tomorrow anyway?"

He looked at her, suddenly serious. "I want to see you every day for the rest of my life."

Rose's mouth dropped open and she looked at him, surprised by his words. Mal blushed deep red at his unexpected openness and stood up suddenly.

"I'd better get going, Frances will skin me alive if she finds me in here."

He rushed over to the door and slipped out quickly, pulling the door closed behind him. Rose heard his footsteps moving away down the landing and blinked. She wished she'd found the words to tell him that she would be happy to see him every day for the rest of her life too.

The following day was Ruby's birthday and she had been allowed to visit Rose for ten minutes. Lizzie told her that it was what she wanted most for her birthday. So, Rose spent a very pleasant ten minutes listening to Ruby chatter about the presents she had already received, that she was having a cake later and that Daddy would be there to watch her blow her candles out. Lizzie stood, smoking, looking out of the window with a stony face. Rose guessed things weren't any better between her and Tommy.

After, Lizzie and Ruby had left, Rose felt like she wanted to get dressed and go outside. She very slowly and carefully pulled on some comfortable clothes – a skirt and a woollen jumper, her boots and a coat. She had to sit on the edge of the bed afterwards to catch her breath and let the dizziness abate, then made her way out of her room and down the stairs. It was slow-going, but Rose found her strength again as she moved. Unusually, she met no one and was glad not to be shooed back to bed.

Eventually, she made it to the orchard. She walked slowly to the far corner where the apple tree was and saw the small fresh mound of earth beneath it. Dropping carefully to her knees, she touched her fingers to the mound. There were no tears this time.

"Goodbye, my sweet Fred. I will never forget you."

Looking up at the tree, she thought about Alfie. He had betrayed her, kidnapped her and lied to her. Alfie had said that all he'd wanted was to give her the life she deserved, away from the crime and the violence, the fear and the danger, the family that was a magnet for trouble. She realised that this was exactly what she now wanted and couldn't help thinking about what life would have been like if Tommy had never turned up in Margate to take her home. But it was too late now of course; Alfie was dead – shot by Tommy – and the last thing she'd said to him was that she'd never forgive him.

She stood up and reached up to pull an apple off a branch. She put it to her lips, took a bite and was immediately transported back into Alfie's dusty office, eating cheese and an apple as he looked at her in delight, a twinkle in his eye. "Right then, Petal, let's feast." She moved a few steps and touched the trunk of the tree, feeling the roughness of the bark underneath her fingers. She leaned her forehead against it and whispered.

"I forgive you, Alfie."

Rose spent a good hour at the tree, sitting with her back against the trunk, eating the apple, thinking about Alfie and Fred. The walk back to her room took a lot longer than she expected but, as she sank onto the bed, she felt a little more at peace. Exhausted, she felt her eyes close and quickly fell asleep. Frances popped her head round the door a bit later and was glad to see Rose peacefully sleeping. She was busy with Ruby's birthday celebrations and felt the pressure of trying to deal with the mounting tension between the master and mistress of the house. She heard a car pull up and closed the door hurriedly, rushing off to greet Tommy as he arrived home.

Rose slept deeply for a few hours until she was pulled abruptly from her sleep by the sound of a car screeching to a halt in front of the house. She groaned as she got out of bed to look out of the window to the driveway below. Watching in horror, she saw an injured Aberama Gold drag a badly beaten up Johnny Dogs from his car and dump him on the ground. When she saw Tommy approach them with a machine gun, she turned and ran across her room. Someone was about to get hurt.