Chapter 14

"You comin' to church again Tommy?" Finn asked, a clear note of amazement in his voice when Tommy appeared in the kitchen the next morning in his suit.

"I am indeed Finn," he said, coming across the kitchen to his brother, "Gotta take care of my soul."

He ruffled Finn's hair then let his hand rest on the back of his brother's head, "And when we get back you and me's going to have a talk Finn, man to man, alright?"

Finn's face dropped a bit, "Is this about Lily?"

Tommy kept his own face blank, wondering what was going on there, "Why would it be about Lily?"

"Aunt Polly said she was going to get you to give me a talkin' to," Finn mumbled.

"Did she now?" he wondered if that was why his brother had seemed so quick to move past him the night before, "Well she hasn't said anything to me – so maybe you could fill me in on what she wants me to give you a talking to about when we have our talk, eh?"

Finn sighed, "Do I have to?"

Tommy smiled, "Tell you what, we'll have our talk and you can see if you feel like telling me or not, that suit you?"

Finn looked up at him, confusion on his face. He supposed the boy didn't get offered choices very often. Tommy just hoped he could steer him into making the right ones. He smoothed his brother's untidy collar and reached for the tea pot.

"Where are all the women this morning anyway Finn? We're not outnumbered for once."

"Rosie's taking Lily out back, she won't go herself. Ada's not down yet."

"Why won't she go herself?"

"Told her about Maggie Murphy."

Tommy snorted, "Aye and is that why Aunt Polly thinks I should give you a talking to?"

Finn shrugged.

Maggie Murphy was one of those childhood legends. She had come to them first from their Uncle Charlie, who had got it from an Irish gypsy. According to him, you had to say her name three times to summon her – and Arthur, Tommy and John had spent a lot of nights daring each other to try and bring her down upon them. Tommy had been nine or ten, young enough he had believed in her, but old enough he thought it was fucking stupid to summon an old banshee down on them and refused to do it. Freddie Thorne had been the boldest of them – or maybe it was his lack of gypsy blood that just meant he just didn't have the proper respect for magic and banshees and old hags. They had told him about her and he had stood in the middle of Watery Lane shouting her name, until Mrs Shelby had come out and told him if he didn't stop the racket she'd give him something to make a racket about.

They'd been sat at the same kitchen table Finn was now sitting at for their dinner that night and the Shelby's mother had demanded, "Right Freddie, what's your business with Maggie Murphy – I don't care for that woman to take my boys away, much as I could line you all up and leather you one after the other at times?" And they had told her that she had it all wrong, Maggie Murphy wouldn't take them away – she was just an old banshee who would appear and scream at them till they fainted.

"Aye – that's the nonsense that comes of it when men try an' tell stories," Mrs Shelby had said rolling her eyes. She'd always been good at stories, good at dropping her voice to make them all lean in to listen to her – able to give all the different characters voices. She'd told them that Maggie Murphy was no banshee – she was an old witch who never had had any children of her own. She came when mothers called upon her to say they couldn't cope with their badly-behaved children anymore and she took the children away and locked them up in her castle, so they could make up for the children she never had herself. But the problem was, their mother had told them as they'd all gawked at her - their dinner entirely untouched while she talked - once she was called she had to have the souls of the children she'd been promised, you couldn't change your mind once she got there. And if you called her and didn't give her the children, she'd haunt the outhouse waiting to grab children who went in alone.

"Aye well fuckin' done Freddie," John had snapped, which earned him a quick smack upside the head.

"Freddie's not a mother John, unless there's a whole load goin' on that I don't know about," their mother had said, "But you keep using language like that and I might call upon old Maggie Murphy after all. In fact, the woman that moved out a few doors down – I think she called her before they moved and promised her that wee girl. But I think she took the bab with her when she moved, so Maggie might be out wandering, looking for a Watery Lane soul right this very minute to make up for it!"

John had pissed the bed a few nights later, too scared to make the journey out in the dark – so Tommy liked to think now that his mother had paid for scaring them when she had had to deal with that. And that they were even for the fact that he had also waited till daylight to use the outhouse for the best part of a few years after that – not that he'd ever admitted it and not that he'd ever managed not to hold through the night.

"Tommy!" came Lily's joyful voice from the back door.

He didn't know if he'd ever get over how happy she always seemed to be to see him. It wasn't normal that people were happy to see him.

"There's my best girl," he said, putting down the tea he had just poured and holding out his arms to her.

She came to him and let him pick her up and rest her on his hip, her arms going around his neck and her face smushing in against his.

"You feel much better than yesterday," she told him.

"I feel much better do I?" he asked, amused.

"Your face is less scratchy."

"Ah, well I shaved Lily – so you could snuggle in without being itched."

"You smell better too."

"Are you saying I didn't smell good yesterday?" he asked, in mock shock.

She giggled and nodded at him.

"Hmm – well let me see what you smell like," he said, running his face across her head and sniffing. "Now let me see – bit of a whiff of the fire – maybe some jam – some sugar – a soft bed – oh, and a bit of a bear smell too - well Lily, all in all - I think you smell delightful," he announced, pulling her tightly in then throwing her up in the air and catching her as she laughed.

He kissed her forehead and settled her back down on his hip before looking over to her sister who had appeared in behind her and was watching them from over by the sink.

"How did you sleep?" she asked him.

He nodded, "Better. You?"

She nodded in turn, "Better."

They exchanged small smiles and Tommy's heart lightened, knowing it would be alright. He had known that last night really, but he'd gone to bed still terrified he would wake in the morning and she'd have changed her mind.

That was the battle with his mother, towards the end of her days – they'd all talk her out of doing something and she'd agree it was a bad idea and go to her bed, then wake up in the morning wanting to do it again – anything and everything from painting walls she'd painted the week before to picking fights with the neighbours – right through to her final act that they'd failed that last time to convince her out of.

"Rosie!" Ada's voice came from the stairs.

"What?"

"Can you come help me with untying these curls?"

"Jesus Christ Ada, what do I know about hair?" she replied, rolling her eyes but starting to move across the kitchen in the direction of the stairs, "There was a reason I cut mine off y'know!"

He watched as she disappeared up the stairs in the direction of his sister's voice. The turf war seemed to be going alright. And there was definitely a bond happening with his aunt and Rosie too. He regretted disappearing, but if there was a silver lining to come from it…

He sat down in the chair next to Finn, swinging Lily round so she was on his knee.

"Now Lily, I hear Finn's been telling you about Maggie Murphy," he said, grinning at his brother.

She nodded.

"What did he tell you?"

"He said she'd grab me and take me away when I go to the toilet."

"Now see he's got it all wrong Lily – Maggie Murphy does hide in the outhouse sometimes, but she's only there for naughty little boys. Girls that smell like jam and sugar and bears have got nothing to worry about."

"Are you sure?" she said, her eyes flicking between him and Finn.

"Lily you've never had a big brother, have you?" he asked her.

She shook her head.

"Well now you've got Finn, and Finn had me and John and Arthur. And there's a tradition amongst big brothers that they try and scare their younger brothers and sisters, isn't that right Finn?" he reached over and hooked the arm not wrapped around Lily around Finn's neck, pulling him into him.

Finn was suddenly grinning too, and he nodded up.

"It's what brothers do to show they love you," Tommy told Lily, his arm still around Finn, "So when Finn here was your age, we told him about Maggie to scare him and now he's trying to scare you. But he's got it all wrong because he forgot you were a girl and Maggie wouldn't come for you."

Lily seemed to consider this for a while before saying, "It's not very nice."

He smiled, trying to contain his laughter at the simplicity of her worldview, "Nah it's not very nice Lily, I know. But it's what us brothers do, because boys are awful Lily and you shouldn't have anything to do with them other than the ones in this house. And Finn," he turned to look at his brother, "Finn's never had a little sister. So he's learning too – he's learning how to be a big brother at the same time you're learning how to have a big brother. But you'll both figure it out. And I promise you Lily, big brothers can be quite useful to have around sometimes. Because they tease you, but they don't let anyone else tease you. Isn't that right Finn?"

"Yeah, that's right," Finn nodded, his voice taking on an enthusiasm he hadn't had before – one he only ever heard in Finn's voice when they asked him to do small, inconsequential jobs for the Peaky Blinders. He probably needed to start giving the boy more responsibility if he expected him to start acting more responsibly.

Tommy ruffled his brother's hair again before reaching for his tea. He hoped that, whatever it was Polly had wanted him to give Finn a talking to about with Lily, that he might have covered it in an easy way – thanks to Maggie Murphy of all the bloody things to use to achieve household harmony.

Rosie had been right – it wasn't just the two of them. It was far more complicated than that. And it might have been alright, like she'd said, if it was just the two of them. But if there was something Tommy knew how to do, better than anyone else in the family, it was face the hard truths of reality, the hard truths of the world. And the hard truth was that he had to prove himself here. He had to make good on all the promises he'd offered not just her, but his family too. But if he did that, he might stand a chance. A chance with the one person who seemed to know and understand his fucked-up mind.

He'd do a better job, going forward, of keeping it to himself. He knew his brothers knew – which was ironic because John might have only been making a joke in the first place, but his own response had given him away to them. And he knew Polly knew because Polly always knew.

And he suspected that she had her own suspicions herself.

But it wasn't time yet. She wasn't going to accept him yet. And nor should she, she was fifteen. And he had to let that pass because right now he wanted to protect whatever innocence there might be left in her and he also wanted to strip her of it. It wasn't fair on her.

She seemed so much older than her years because her life had forced her to be. He'd brought her here on the promise he'd look after her and Lily. That he'd try and give her the chance to not be so much older than her years. That he'd take care of her – take care of them both. That was what he had to do. And, in the future, if he succeeded in proving she could rely upon him to do just that – maybe he stood a chance.