Chapter Content Warning: canon-typical content, reference to physical punishment and yelling

Business

1919

Polly absently sipped from her third cup of tea as she sat at the table. She wanted nothing more than to head home and get some sleep. She could have taken the spare room, the room where she'd stayed throughout the war but she was longing for her own space and she wanted to wake up in peace. It was late for a Saturday evening, even by Tommy's standards, but Polly had no intention of leaving the twins alone. She also had no intention of leaving them with her mercurial nephew without reading him first.

When Tommy finally trod through the door, he headed straight for the bottle of whiskey on the sideboard, pouring himself a sizable amount and setting the glass on the table across from his aunt. Without a word, Tommy shrugged out of his jacket and placed his cap down on the table, lighting a cigarette before finally taking a seat and looking at Polly.

Polly watched him with piqued interest from the moment he came through the door. What started as an argument with the Shelby girls at the pictures had quickly evolved into a monster of an entirely different sort, an ever-growing wedge that aimed to divide the family. Even more than Ada's fairly abrupt absence from the home, the indisputable resentment between Tommy and Clara was quickly becoming unbearable to them all.

Noticing the glossy look in her nephew's eye, Polly had no plan of speaking with him on the subject tonight. She would finish her tea and head to her own home, putting herself and the tiring day to rest. Polly hoped her nephew would do the same.

Polly and Tommy were still sitting quietly at the table, nursing their respective drinks when Finn padded down the stairs a few minutes later. Barely half awake and rubbing at his tired eyes, Finn came straight to his aunt, setting his head on her shoulder and allowing himself to get comfortable. He slouched over as he leaned his body against her chair. The boy could have slept right there standing if she would let him.

"It's late, Finn." Tommy pressed his lips together in a straight line. "What is it you want?"

"Clara won't stop fussing." Finn's eyes remained trained on his aunt's face as he said it. "She's been at it all night."

His voice betrayed him, laced with a tremble that communicated nothing more than concern for his sister. Polly placed an arm around her sweet nephew and ran a gentle knuckle over his cheek. Polly fixed her gaze across the table, raising a reproving eyebrow at Tommy.

Tommy's face held no particular emotion as he prematurely stubbed out his cigarette but Polly could read the frustration sowed deep in his body. Despite Tommy's meticulous attempts to appear controlled, she spotted the slight flare of his nostrils and the flinty stare he directed towards no one in particular. Polly never would have believed the great Tommy Shelby could be brought to this state of undoing by his little sisters.

She knew it wasn't just his sisters affecting him. It was the business with the bloody guns and the copper from Belfast and whatever mess he had started with the Lee family. Still, Tommy had just come home from an extended evening at the Garrison, so the strain of it all had no business in still binding itself to his muscles. It seemed that drowning himself in liquor and Lizzie Stark hadn't done nearly enough to soothe his frustrations or what Polly assumed to be a bit of remorse.

It had been a particularly nasty row just before dinner that sent Tommy out of the house for the evening to begin with. They had barely sat down to dinner when something Tommy said prompted a retort from Clara that came across as a bit too adjacent to the truth for Tommy's liking. Within seconds of her delivering the words, Tommy snatched his sister out of the seat beside him by the scruff of her neck. And when she fought him on going up the stairs, he swiftly flipped her over his shoulder, not particularly bothered by her incessant kicking and screaming.

It had been barely more than two minutes before Tommy marched back down the stairs, grabbing his jacket and cap as he walked out the door. He hadn't said a word to any of them. Polly, Arthur, and John left Finn and John's children at the table with their dinners, moving to share a much-needed drink in the solace of the betting shop.

They had all nearly had enough of the new dynamic between Tommy and the youngest. For days, Polly had been instructing Arthur and John to stay out of it, insisting that Tommy and Clara would sort things out on their own but staying out of it was proving to be more and more difficult. And while not a single one of them approved of the way Clara had taken to talking to her older brother, and they had all taken a stab at curbing her behavior, they couldn't disagree with her view on the matter.

The now regular shouts and glares made Polly nostalgic for simpler times, the times back when the twins were small and infinitely sweet, when Ada had nothing more than a schoolgirl crush on her brother's best friend, back when her elder nephews had been full of laughter and smiles and hadn't had to do much shouting or reprimanding.

"And she still won't let me in," Finn continued. "Said she doesn't even want brothers anymore."

"Finn, go back to bed." Tommy stood up, his jaw clenching as he did it. The scent of whiskey wafted heavily on his breath even from across the table and Polly stood to meet him.

"I've got it," Polly said. She placed a hand on top of Tommy's even though the sharpness of her tone alone would've caused him to pause. "If she wasn't receptive to Finn, what makes you think she's going to want a thing to do with you?"

Tommy lowered himself into the chair and stared up at his aunt, his gaze unblinking. "I'm not particularly concerned with her wants, Pol."

"Well, maybe you should consider that your sister's wants aren't much different from your own."

"I'm not concerned with wants of any sort, and certainly not with any of hers. Her behavior has been noticed and it is bad for business." Tommy emphasized the words by tapping his finger down hard on the table at each syllable. "I've got enough—"

Polly scoffed, shuffling Finn closer to the stairs, a guiding hand sending him on his way. The whole thing was bad for business because both Arthur and John weren't pleased with Tommy and when the brothers weren't pleased with him they mouthed off about him to the workers. It was an unhappy chain that began and ended with the unstable relationship between Tommy and Clara.

"Yes, I know you've got plenty on, the weight of the whole bloody world resting on one man's shoulders, and that sweet little girl upstairs you usually do nothing but praise is inciting a grand rebellion among the ranks."

"You wouldn't—"

Polly painted a fake smile across her face. "I understand plenty, Thomas. In case you've forgotten, I ran this whole operation and raised those children while you boys were away fighting that war. The shop and whatever nonsense you've gotten into with the guns, with the Lee family…that's business, that's where you can fight and scuffle with whoever gets in your way. This family isn't a business, Thomas. Your siblings are not soldiers. You can't just push and command until they fall in line. That little girl up there—"

Tommy leaned back in his chair, shifting so he now faced away from the stairs and Polly, puffing from a newly lit cigarette. "It's about time that little girl learned the way of things."

A dose of rage passed through Polly but she held her composure, dismissing his statement as whiskey doing most of the talking.

Polly knew that there was some truth to what Tommy was saying. Things couldn't continue as they were and Clara was old enough to know better, but they both were at fault for how things were turning out, both responsible for being unsure of how to handle a basic disagreement. She had spent half a decade encouraging Tommy to set boundaries with the girl knowing this day would come. It wasn't her fault he hadn't listened and it wasn't quite Clara's either.

And anyway, Polly knew that the two of them would eventually find they were on the same side if they truly attempted to see it. The thing Clara wanted most of all was for her sister to come home. And she wanted the fighting with her brother to come to an end. Tommy wanted those things too. They just disagreed about the best way to get there.

For now, Polly stifled her evolving opinion on the matter, her displeasure with Tommy growing as the volume and frequency of Clara and Tommy's arguments grew. She wasn't sure what it would take for the two Shelbys to be on the same side again, but she hoped that she hadn't been right when she said that the threat of physical reprimand was the only way to scare a Shelby child into submission.

"Well, you can start on that in the morning when you're not pissed drunk," Polly offered, leaving Tommy at the table

Polly found Finn sitting halfway up the stairs and pulled the boy to his feet. She guided him the rest of the way to his room with an arm around his shoulders and took a few extra moments to tuck him back into bed, savoring the moment's cuddles. She knew Finn would likely refuse the comfort of her arms in the years to come.

Finn let his aunt dote on him, listening to the assurances that his sister would be fine, and promises that Clara did indeed still want him for a brother. Polly tried her best to convince Finn that he occupied a very special position in Clara's life that not one other soul on earth could ever hope to fill. They were twins, after all.

"She's just a little upset with your brother," Polly offered. "Nothing for you to worry yourself about."

Finn was not entirely convinced he had nothing to worry about but nodded his understanding. After receiving a kiss on the forehead, Finn rolled over to face the wall but as he could still hear his twin, he found it hard to drift off to sleep.

Polly could hear Clara's quiet weeping as she stepped into the hall. After taking a deep breath, she headed towards the sound. She heard an exaggerated sniffle as she pushed the door open. In the near darkness, Polly climbed into Clara's bed, pulling the crying girl into her arms. Pleased when Clara accepted the hold and clung tightly to her aunt's frame, Polly sighed to herself. Clara's grip remained tight for a few moments before she curled back up on the bed, resting her head in Polly's lap.

Polly combed through Clara's hair, pushing the tear-stained strands back from her face. With deft fingers, Polly began the gentle work of undoing the tangles in Clara's long waves while she waited for the girl to find some sense of calm.

Thomas' heavy footfall sounded on the stairs and Clara fell silent, a slight tremble coursing through her body when he slammed the door of his adjacent bedroom.

"Oh, there, there, love. You're alright. Your brother's gone to bed and the slates been wiped clean. All is forgiven for tonight."

The thin walls made it so the family had heard the whole incident from their places at the table, heard Tommy shouting so loud, hard, and harshly that his sister finally stopped shouting back. Polly knew Tommy's words and his sharp tone likely hurt her far more than the swat or two he'd given in an attempt to gain her attention.

Clara pulled back from her aunt, scowling and narrowing her eyes, red from the rubbing and the tears. Clara hated to be misunderstood but also hated having to explain the details of her thoughts. It was why she preferred to have her brother when she felt bothered in such a way. Tommy's calculations on the inner workings of his sister's mind were remarkably precise, remarkably instinctive. Clara found a comfort in that, being so easily seen by another person.

Polly sighed and caught herself before she rolled her eyes, taking only a moment to understand she had guessed incorrectly. Eleven years with Clara and nearly twenty-nine years with Tommy had taught her that the easiest way out was to simply admit she didn't know.

"Well, if it's not that, then what is it? I can't read minds, love."

"What good is it being gypsy, then?" Clara mumbled.

Polly smiled, biting back at a chuckle as she pushed at her niece's shoulder. "Well, come on, then. If you can carry on like that, you can tell Aunt Polly exactly what it is that's bothering you."

Clara sat up on the bed and faced her aunt though she focused on smoothing out the skirt of her dress. Polly watched, calculating the meaning of Clara's movements as the girl sat in a heavy silence. Clara shifted her position, trying out a few before she finally settled. She reacted to a shiver traveling down her spine, unexpected due to the warmth of the room and because Clara wore a chunky sweater stolen from Ada's closet. She swallowed no less than three times before taking a cavernous breath that seemed nearly too big for the girl. Then Clara clasped her hands in her lap, turning them white with the strength of her grasp. With those things done, Clara fixed Polly with a stare so somber and full of concern that Polly was happy they were under dim light and she could barely see Clara's face

"Tommy's a bad man," Clara finally said, her words barely above a whisper.

It was a statement, but a small change in pitch made it sound like a question. Clara's eyes appeared newly wet and she swallowed back a painful lump in her throat. Polly knew that Clara wanted her to argue something different. The girl would've welcomed it if her aunt chastised her for even thinking the thought, asserting that Thomas Shelby was a man of good intentions and sound morals.

"Your brother does what he needs to in order to keep this family safe."

"But he said he'd kill Freddie," Clara argued, gulping down at the lump in her throat, regaining her fight as she mentally lined up the various pieces of evidence she had gathered to support her assertion. "And—"

"Your brother will not kill Freddie," Polly said, cutting her off with a certainty that she didn't at all hold. She wasn't certain about much when it came to Tommy these days.

Tommy had made the comment casually, in the wake of hearing that Ada and Freddie hadn't left town, and Polly silently cursed him for even speaking it in front of his sister. He made a regular production of keeping Clara out of family meetings and the shop but spoke about killing his former best mate as if he were merely asking for someone to pass the potatoes.

"But he said—"

"Yes, your brother says and does a lot of things."

Clara didn't like the casual tone Polly was employing. She had evidence to support what she had said, a fair amount of it though she wished it wasn't so.

"Bad things," Clara offered, bowing her head as she blinked back fresh tears.

"Everything he does, he does it for us, for the betterment of this family and he has a good heart, your brother."

Polly had almost said 'especially when it comes to you' but stopped herself short, not wanting to bring any extra attention to their relationship, not wanting to affix any additional hurt by comparing that to the way things were now.

"You know how your brother loves you, loves the lot of us, in his own way."

Polly could see a sadness in Clara's eyes, a pained confusion in her furrowed brow, and she cupped Clara's face, forcing her to make eye contact. "But just because you love someone doesn't mean you have to always see eye to eye. You can care for them and still be angry or hurt or in disagreement. You are both stubborn to no end but I would suspect your love is stronger."

"You think he still loves me and Ada?"

"There's not a girl in this world your brother adores more than you, Clara Shelby."

"What about Ada?"

"Ada, too."

Clara relaxed her head against the wall, the one that separated her bedroom from Tommy's, and Polly pressed a kiss to Clara's forehead as she stood up. "Now, I should be getting home and you should get some sleep."

Clara nodded but when Polly pulled back the blankets intending for Clara to get settled beneath them, the girl stood up. She pulled the pillow from her bed and stepped towards the door.

Polly dropped the blankets, lifting her hands to her waist. "And where do you think you're going?"

Clara hugged the pillow to her chest as she turned to face her aunt, a small flush on her cheeks. "To see Finn?" she asked.

Polly straightened her shoulders and smiled at Clara, gesturing towards the door with a small wave of her hand. Polly straightened the blankets on Clara's bed before moving to the hallway. It was empty and quiet aside from her own steps and the loaded snores coming from beyond Tommy's door. She hoped he would sleep through the night and leave the kids be.

Heading towards the stairs, Polly paused outside Finn's room, listening just long enough to hear the twin's excited whispers and a symphony of giggles. Her hand hovered over the handle for a moment before she thought better of interrupting and telling them to go to sleep. Polly removed her hand and instead placed it above her heart, which was at once swelling and aching for her youngest niece and nephew.

Growing up was all at once a beautiful and harrowing business and Polly would've loved to keep Finn and Clara tender and pure and safe for a short while longer.