Like all of you, I imagine, I was shocked and so very upset to hear of the death of the magnificent Helen McCrory. I feel so sad that the world has lost such an incredible talent and, by all accounts, a lovely person. I can't quite believe we will no longer be able to watch how masterfully she brought Polly Gray to life on the screen. She had the most amazing screen presence in every scene she was in and elevated the show to a different level. Aunt Pol is one of my all time favourite female characters and I didn't feel I could continue my story without acknowledging this terrible loss. So, here, in its own inadequate way, is my tribute to the late great Helen McCrory who brought to life the vulnerable, fearless and fiercely loving Aunt Pol. We will miss you.

Polly opened the front door of number six Watery Lane. She looked around the familiar living room as she closed the door behind her. She was happy in her house in Sutton but this place was a part of her. Both a home full of sweet memories and a place where the worst moments of her life had played out. She would never have chosen the path her life had taken - so much loss and pain – but she wouldn't change it now. This family that she carried in her heart and led with such strength was what she lived for. She was glad to be here, she felt safe here.

"Jeremiah?"

Polly smiled at the sound of that voice coming from the kitchen. That little girl whom she loved so much, who frustrated and brought her so much joy in equal measure, had saved her life, although she would never know it. Rose was born a year after her Michael and Anna had been taken away. Polly had spent months trying to get them back but every door closed in her face and she was left with an empty house and a shattered heart. She'd had nothing and no one to live for and her days were spent looking at the bottom of a whiskey glass. She'd woken one morning, or rather one afternoon, with a splitting headache and an aching heart, and had dragged herself out of bed and onto the landing. She paused, as she always did, in the doorway of her children's room. She'd touched nothing since they'd gone; she wanted everything to be as they remembered when they came home. She looked at their beds, still unmade, their toys all over the floor, two little socks left under Michael's bed. She took a deep shuddering breath. This wasn't like the grief she'd felt when their father had died; she'd been half expecting his death given the drunken state of him when he'd left. She'd grieved for him and felt the loss but knew he wasn't coming home, so she concentrated on her children and moved on. This grief, though, this was unbearable. It sliced through her with every breath, it broke her heart every second, it pierced her very being and she didn't know who she was anymore. She was a mother but her children were gone; not dead, just not with her. They were out there somewhere, without her, and she knew they'd be scared and missing her.

She'd made her way down the stairs and had just poured herself a glass of whiskey when Tommy crashed through her kitchen door, scaring the hell out of her.

"Thomas Shelby! Have you lost your mind? What the…"

Tommy grabbed her arms, his face full of panic. "It's Mum. The baby's coming."

Polly put the glass down. "It can't be, it's too soon."

"Aunt Pol, you have to come quickly. She's bleeding."

And so, before the sun rose the next day, she'd lost a sister-in-law and gained a reason to keep going: a tiny baby and a family who needed her.

"That you, Jeremiah?"

Polly was pulled from her memories by Rose calling out again and made her way to the kitchen.

"No, it's only me, love."

Polly found Rose sat at the table, a half-eaten breakfast in front of her. She put her bag down and took her hat off.

"Tommy left already?"

"Yeah."

"And Jeremiah's taking you to school?"

"Yeah, but I don't need him to. I know the way."

"That's not why he's taking you and you know it."

"Will you take me?"

"I can't, Rose. I have to get the shop ready with your brothers gone."

"Then, can I stay and help you?"

Polly laughed. "Two days ago, you couldn't wait to leave me and come here, and now you want to spend the day with me?"

"It wasn't you I wanted to leave. I just don't like Sutton. It's not home."

Polly began to clear the table. "Home is wherever you want it to be."

"Well, I want it to be here."

"If you're finished, bring me your plate."

Rose brought her plate to Polly at the basin.

"Tommy's says he's going to see an old friend in London."

Polly looked sharply at Rose. "Did he now? Which friend?"

Rose shrugged as she began to dry the dishes. "He didn't say. Maybe it's someone who can help. You know, with Campbell."

Polly closed her eyes and gripped the edge of the basin. She swallowed the nausea which rose inside of her and forced herself away from the memory. She dried her hands swiftly on the towel and walked quickly to the doors of the shop. Twisting the handles, she pushed them open and began to prepare the shop for the day, collecting the ledgers from the office and carrying them to the tables. She forced herself to concentrate on what she was doing, trying to dispel the image of Michael's face as he'd looked at her with disgust outside the prison. She wasn't sure she could bare her own shame, let alone the shame he felt towards her.

"Aunt Pol?" Rose had followed her into the shop and was leaning against a table.

"Hmm?"

"Why can't you come and live here?"

"Because I have my own house now and I have Michael."

"Michael can come and live here too."

Polly snorted. "And why would I want Michael to live here? It's full of filth and criminals and violence."

Rose frowned. "It's not always."

"Rose, you know if I had my way, you'd be out of here too. I don't want this life for you."

"I like my life."

"Give it time, you'll see. It's not what your mother would have wanted for you either."

Rose fell silent and watched Polly work.

"Aunt Pol?"

"What?"

"You had a mum and dad, didn't you?"

"Everyone has a mum and dad."

"I don't. I don't belong to anyone. I'm no-one's child."

Polly stopped what she was doing and looked at Rose surprised.

"Is that what you think? That you don't belong to anyone?"

Rose traced her finger around the gold letters on the cover of the ledger. She shrugged.

"Well, I have Tommy and Arthur and John and you. But they're my brothers and you're my aunt and children are supposed to have parents. And I don't. Well, I have a dad but he didn't want me, so I guess it's the same thing."

Polly pulled out a chair and set it in front of her.

"Rose Elizabeth Shelby, come over here and sit down."

Rose moved slowly to the chair and sat down. Was she in trouble?

Polly sat down in the chair opposite her. She looked at her niece and wished she could take away the pain she knew Rose carried every day knowing that her father had left her, believing that she was the cause of her mother's death. Polly knew something about pain.

"When they took my children away from me, I thought I would never be happy again. All I wanted was to have them back, to hold them and tell them I loved them. But they were gone. And everyone said it was my own fault. That they'd been taken because I was a bad mother. But I wasn't. I was a good mother, I know that now. Do you know how I know?"

Rose blinked at her. Polly had never told her any of this before. "No"

"Because God gave another chance to be a mother."

Rose was confused. Did Polly have more children she didn't know about? "How"

"Because not a year after they'd taken my Michael and my Anna, a tiny baby was born too early and she lost her mother."

Rose's eyes opened wide. "Me?"

"Of course you, you daft bat! I looked at Thomas holding you when you just born and I realised something. My children were gone but you and your brothers and sister weren't. I had a family who needed me right in front of me."

Polly leaned forward and took Rose's hand. "I know you want a mum and a dad, Rosie, but they're gone and you have a family right in front of you who love you. You don't even know how lucky you are."

Rose's eyes beginning to fill with tears. "But Aunt Pol, who do I belong to?"

Polly gripped Rose's hand even tighter. "Me! You belong to me! And you belong to Tommy. And to Arthur and to John and to Ada and to Finn. We belong to each other."

A tear fell down Rose's face. "Why did she have to die?"

Polly eyes also filled with tears. "I don't know, Rosie. It's not fair, I know that much. She should have lived, she should have known you. She would have been as proud of you as I am. But she didn't. And our lives go on. And we have to live them in the best way we know how. Your mum would have wanted you to enjoy your life, to be brave and to help keep those brothers of yours in line."

Rose sniffed, freely crying now. "I'm not brave though, Aunt Pol. I'm scared all the time. I have nightmares."

Polly wiped the tears from Rose's cheeks and whispered, "So do I."

Rose looked at her in shock. "You have nightmares? You're the bravest person I know, you're never afraid."

Polly smiled at Rose through her own tears. "In life, especially in this life we Shelbys lead, you can choose. You can choose to let the fear control you, or you can choose to control the fear. I've been afraid plenty of times. Rose, I'm afraid right now - for Tommy, for Michael, for Arthur, for you. But I will not let that fear be in charge. I will take charge. And you'll see, Rose, I will do everything I can to protect us."

"I wish I could be like you, Aunt Pol."

Polly took Rose's face in her hands and looked at her with a fierce love. "Don't be like me, Rosie, all you need to be is yourself. That's enough."

Rose put her arms around Polly's neck and hugged her tight. Polly wrapped her arms around her niece and held her tight. This was why she kept sacrificing and fighting, so that her family would keep fighting too. Because what is family if not worth giving everything for?

Rose let go, looked at her aunt and brushed some of Polly's hair out of her face with a gentle hand. "You're not our mum, but you'll always be our Aunt Pol - and that's enough."