Chapter 45

The next morning being Easter Monday morning brought Polly dragging Lily to mass for the good of her soul since she'd missed it the day before to his aunt's chagrin, Rosie staying behind because she wanted to be available for Ada, who still wasn't well, just in case his sister needed anything and Tommy saving himself from getting involved thanks to what he presumed was Campbell's retribution for the trouble he'd gotten him into – the arrest of one of the runners for the betting shop.

Moss was shifty with him when he arrived at the police station, avoiding his eyes and telling him the man would have to spend a week in the cells and there was nothing he, Moss, could do about it. Tommy had clicked his tongue and left without saying much, letting the door slam behind him. He knew Moss had to do his job, but he needed to find him by night and remind him who the Peaky Blinders were, remind him who it was that topped up his police force wage and kept him and his wife in their happy little semi-detached home with their yearly holiday. Or maybe he'd send someone to give Moss' wife a fright. Maybe that would work better. But no, he'd tread carefully, he needed Moss to stay loyal. And he needed to find out how Campbell had got to know that they were all clearing out to the fayre.

Thinking on it, he took himself to the Garrison for a drink, passing Jeremiah preaching on the way, disappointed to find only Harry serving, before he eventually headed home.

Friday had been busy for them, Good Friday always was, but the Monday was quiet and John, Arthur and Scudboat were alone in the shop, having sent the rest of the staff off early. Polly was in the kitchen watching them through the open shop doors, pretending she wasn't listening as he filled them in on what had happened with the arrested runner.

"Ada not down?" he asked, glancing to the stairs once they'd finished talking about it. It was nearly half past two.

John shrugged, "Ain't seen her."

"Finn?"

"Him and George are away to try and get Isaiah free of Jeremiah," Arthur said with a grin.

"I saw Jeremiah on my way over here, didn't see Isaiah so they must have got him," Tommy replied, "Didn't see any of the three on them out the front when I was coming in though."

"I told them they could go walk the railway line, no trains cause it's a holiday."

"John you fucking idiot!" Tommy exhaled loudly, then rubbed his temples, "There are trains, there's just less of them. Scud, go get them off the fucking line and bring them back here. Can't very well tan them for John giving them bloody permission but tell them the permission is rescinded - permanently."

"Mate, I didn't know," John said, his eyes wide, his toothpick chewing picking up pace.

"Where's Rosie?" Tommy asked, ignoring John's - well, it wasn't exactly an apology – more a plea of ignorance.

He wasn't overly worried, the boys could outrun the trains when they were coming near the station, and the lines in and out were a few tracks wide and with wild greenery at the sides, if the trains did appear they could easily avoid them - and at worst they'd find themselves with scratched legs from the nettles if they had to jump into the side. But still, he didn't want to encourage them to go walking the bloody railway line as a new pastime and he wondered where – or who - the notion to ask to go do it had come from.

"Front room," John told him, looking relieved to be able to move the conversation on - away from his blunder.

Polly kept her eyes trained on him the entire time as he walked from the shop through the kitchen, but she didn't say anything. He didn't know if it was about Ada or Rosie, or even about John or Finn, but she'd tell him when she was good and ready and he wasn't going to beg her for whatever input she had behind those eyes of hers.

Rosie was curled sideways on the single seat, her knees bent and her feet pulled up as she read one of the books he had bought for her in thanks for her idea.

"Monaghan Boy's third race is on Wednesday," he told her by way of greeting, stopping to lean in the doorway, drinking in her profile.

Her nose had a slight bump to it, as though it might have been broken once. Probably had been; given how she dealt with the boy, Becker, at Ada's birthday party she was clearly no stranger to scrapping when she deemed it necessary. But her bumped nose gave her an interest to her face – she'd have been almost too softly pretty otherwise, the large eyes and the pretty, delicate little mouth. The nose stopped her looking too sweet, like the bump in it betrayed the fire and will that lay behind the amber eyes, hidden by her seeming quietness. Like the bump was to signal to the world that they shouldn't underestimate her just because she was small. Domesticated, she could be. Docile, she wasn't.

"The one he's going to lose?" she asked, turning her head to look at him, spoiling his appraisal of her maybe once broken nose. From the front it wasn't really noticeable.

He nodded, "Is that your famous women's liberation book?"

She shook her head, "The one with the ghost."

"Ah," he replied, "I wasn't sure how you'd feel about that one, I know you don't like the fantastical."

"Ghosts aren't fantastical, they're real," she said, flicking her eyebrows at him.

"You believe in ghosts?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You're a Gypsy, you telling me you don't?"

He smirked in response, then asked, "Ada not appeared down?"

She sighed and shook her head, her eyes leaving his and shifting back to her book, though he didn't think she was really continuing with reading it, "No and I think she was pretending to be asleep so she didn't have to talk to me when I went in."

That was strange, the two of them were close nowadays – albeit in a way he didn't quite fathom.

"You alright?" he asked her, his brow furrowing slightly.

Her voice told him she wasn't and was trying to hide it anyway, but if she didn't want to discuss it she wouldn't.

"Aye," she told him, "She'll just be in a bad mood because she's unwell."

"Alright," he said, letting it go, unconvinced, "Where's Lily?"

"Out the back with Katie, spent the morning drawing with Arthur in his office and then finally went out about an hour ago with the pram."

"She's fair taken with that bloody pram."

"Polly was trying to get her out half the morning and she wouldn't go until I told her she could take the pram out to play as long as she was just out the back with it."

Polly had told Lily she wasn't allowed in the shop when it was open and Tommy and Arthur did do their best to chivvy her back out as gently as they could whenever she came in normally, since generally it was one of them she came in to see, but Tommy could well imagine that with the shop dead Arthur would have been only too happy to have her for company. Maybe that was what Polly's eyes on him had been about.

"Surprised you let her take it out unsupervised."

She shrugged, "I don't like it, but I suppose I need to be less precious about things. I bought her it to play with, so she may as well play - not that I'll be happy if she brings it in and she's covered in it muck."

"I reckon it's too precious to her to get covered in muck."

"I suppose anytime she wanted anything before she couldn't get the one she really wanted and she got the one I could afford. I think between having that pram and that doll's house you got her at Christmas-"

"We got her at Christmas," he cut across her, raising an eyebrow.

They had halved the house between the two of them.

"You got her all the stuff to go in it, the furniture and whatever."

"You got her the dolls."

"Well," she frowned, then relented to push on, deciding not to argue it further, "Between them both I reckon she thinks she's a fucking princess."

"The Princess of Watery Lane," he said with a smirk, "I was going to take her to see the horse, maybe let her have a ride on it."

"She'll like that," Rosie said, smiling softly, then added, rolling her eyes, "Even if it's ridiculous that you got her a horse. No wonder she thinks she's royalty. She'll have an attitude soon – thinking she's above everyone. And it'll be entirely your fault."

"She bloody well will not, I can assure you of that," he told her, "You want to come along? They'll be closing the shop soon, it's dead."

She shook her head, "I better stay here in case Ada comes down and wants something to eat."

"Ada can make her own fucking food you know."

"I know but…" she trailed off.

He gathered she wanted to wait and see why Ada hadn't spoken to her earlier.

He shrugged, concealing his own disappointment, "Suit yourself."

"No, wait a minute," Polly's voice interjected and he heard his aunt scrape back her chair and come across the kitchen, pushing by him into the room to address the redhead, "You get yourself out of here and go have some fun. I've got half a mind of what's ailing Ada and if I'm right having the lot of you out of the house will make it easier for her to talk about. And if I'm wrong I want words with her about this lying in bed all day and moping, I'm not putting up with it and you waiting on her hand and foot is just encouraging her."

"Polly, I-" Rosie started to protest, but his aunt cut across her.

"I know you mean well, you've a good heart, god knows it's better than most of ours – but let this one," she jerked her head in his direction, "Take you out and give yourself a rest from worrying about madam up the stairs."

Rosie rolled her eyes and gave a loud exhale before nodding her agreement, albeit somewhat unwillingly, before she asked, "What do you think is wrong with Ada Polly?

"Matters of the heart I reckon," his aunt said, rolling her own eyes, "Nothing a good cry and a bit of common sense can't iron out."

He wondered what Polly knew about where Ada had been on Saturday morning. He was positive she hadn't been with Freddie, he was sure he'd have seen it on her face when he'd mentioned communists if she had been. But she'd been with someone.

Still, it was almost reassuring if she was this upset over someone else; proving what Rosie had said about Ada's moving quickly to be right. God knew he didn't want his sister making a fool of herself, or making a name for herself, by going through every boy in the school, but he'd prefer to think of her making herself heartsore over Becker or Wrighty or Walker or whatever their stupid names were from the school than to think of her sneaking out of the house to have Freddie Thorne smear her lipstick over his face. Matters of the heart, he figured, were best left to Polly to deal with anyway. Plus, Polly was pretty skilled at handing out a dose of common sense, even if she did administer it with the back of a hairbrush from time to time if it wasn't being swallowed with words alone. He hoped one way or the other they'd come back from the yard to find Ada acting semi-normal.

Rosie headed out the back, calling Lily in, whilst Polly settled herself on the sofa. Opting to trust his aunt to get through where he couldn't, without questioning her, he followed the redhead through to the kitchen.

"What? Why do I need to come in?" he heard Lily demand of her sister over at the back door and he frowned.

"Well you don't need to," Rosie replied before he had a chance to tell the child off for her tone, "But Tommy has a horse at the yard he thought you might like to meet."

Lily let out an excited noise.

"So, I take it you want to go see the horse then?" Rosie asked, and he heard the smile in her voice – for all she rolled her eyes and protested at him that he was going to turn Lily into the most ridiculous child in Birmingham, very little made Rosie much happier than seeing Lily happy.

Lily presumably nodded and Rosie said, "Alright, go bring your pram in."

Lily reappeared a minute or so later, pushing the pram with her bears into the kitchen and smiling at him. He smiled back and motioned her over to him, watching as Rosie steered the pram into the corner, out of the way, the sight of her with the pram giving him the same ache somewhere deep inside that he'd had the other night watching her push it. He dragged his eyes from her to look down at Lily, who had come obediently to him.

"Now, do you remember how important it is you obey me at the yard Lily?" he said, squatting down to hold her in front of him, keeping his voice gentle but determined he'd remind her of it before they got there and had a repeat of the last time Lily had gotten near a horse.

"Yes Tommy," she answered.

"You'll get a smacked backside if you don't."

She nodded, her face colouring a little and glancing over her shoulder into the shop to see if anyone was listening. He could well imagine Polly was listening and nodding in approval in the other room, but she didn't shout anything through.

"You promise me you'll be a good girl?"

"I promise."

"That's my best girl," he said, kissing her head and standing up, taking her hand in his.

"Let me get my coat, won't be a minute," Rosie said, sliding out of the kitchen and heading up the stairs.

"What's the horse's name that we're going to see Tommy?"

"He doesn't have a name yet."

"Doesn't have a name?" Lily asked, aghast.

He grinned down at the child, then threaded his hands under her arms and picked her up onto his hip.

"I was going to keep it a surprise for you Lily," he told her, "Till after you've met him. But I bought the horse for you. So, you get to name him."

"For me?" she asked, her eyes going wide.

He nodded, "Uhuh. I had horses when I was your age, so I wanted you to have one."

She didn't say anything in response to that, so he pressed, "Are you excited to have your own horse?"

She nodded, then asked, "But what do I do with a horse?"

"I'll teach you to ride it Lily."

"What if I'm not very good?" she asked, biting her lip.

"Well I can ride him if you don't like it, but let's give it a chance first, eh?" he told her, reaching into his pocket with his free hand and rolling a cigarette across his lips, before telling her through it, "I think you'll be an excellent little rider my little love," as a way of boosting her confidence.

"You think so?"

"I do. It takes some patience but I think you'll be good at it," he found his lighter and lit the cigarette inhaling and exhaling before asking her, "You thought of any names yet?"

She shook her head, then said, "Can I go tell Katie I've got a horse?"

"No you bloody well cannot," Rosie said, reappearing with her green wool coat on – he needed to take them back into town for lighter coats, since their last trip had been cut short – "No one likes a show off Lily."

"It's not showing off, it's just telling," Lily said, rolling her eyes and drawling out her words.

"Oi, don't be cheeky," he told her, "Or you'll get a smacked backside before we even leave for the yard."

He was going to smack Rosie's backside the first chance he got – and tell her to let the kid be excited about things. He supposed it was so against her own nature to share things seemingly with anyone other than him – and admittedly he felt pretty damn special to be the exception – and she had, it seemed, been so used to having nothing, that she did see sharing news about getting things as showing off. But that needed to be stopped, changed in her mind. He wanted Lily to want to run off and tell Katie things, unguarded and unreserved in her excitement. He didn't want Lily to be the mini adult Rosie had always had to be. But he had promised not to undermine the redhead in front of her sister and he'd stick by it, they'd be a team. Hell, she'd stuck by him last week at the shops.

If he had had any qualms that he'd been too harsh with his words to Lily in his efforts to support Rosie though, they were quickly forgotten as the child pouted in response to his telling off and he raised an eyebrow at it, only for her to throw her arms around his neck and kiss his cheek.

He kissed her head, shaking his own at himself, "And I tell your sister she's a pushover," he told the child, who gave him a toothy smile by way of reply, "Wrapped around your bloody finger I am."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

As he had predicted, Lily took to riding easily. He roped Curly in to lead the horse around the yard whilst he walked beside her. He had kept a firm hand on her leg to begin with, so he could easily grab her if she seemed to be falling - the horse was an adult horse, and he really should have put her on a pony but the situation was that there had been a horse available and he'd decided to take the opportunity - but about half an hour in he was content just to walk by her, still ready to grab her if he saw her sway but with his hands at his sides.

Rosie and Charlie watched from the side, their heads inclined to one another's' as they talked whilst they watched. She and his uncle seemed to like one another, which pleased him. He was getting to a point where he half suspected his family preferred her to him, but he could live with that.

"I think that might be enough for a first go," Tommy decreed after Lily had been on the horse for just under an hour.

He had made this statement already, fifteen minutes before, but she had whined and begged to be allowed to stay on a little longer and he had acquiesced, but this time he held firm.

She gave him the same plea of being allowed to stay, but he shook his head, "Nope. You'll be sore tomorrow Lily and you'll be wishing you'd come off the first time I suggested it."

"Tommy, please?" she wheedled.

"Lily, I said no," he replied, raising an eyebrow at her.

She sighed in response.

"You're asking for a good smack my girl."

"I'm not asking Tommy, I promise," she said, her eyes going wide and her tone changing.

He squeezed her leg, "Don't be sighing and arguing with me then, eh? Now swing that other leg over to this side."

She did as she was told and let him lift her down off the horse. He put her on the ground in front of him and slid his hands up from her waist as he stood until he was gripping her hands up above her head, holding her like he had held Ada and Finn when they'd learned to start walking as babies.

"Try walking a bit, your legs'll feel funny," he told her, keeping her hands in his on her as she did so, "Curly, lead the horse back to the stable but leave him, Lily will help brush him down."

"What am I helping do Tommy?" she asked, stepping gingerly.

"We need to brush him down, say thank you to him for letting you ride him."

"Thank you," Lily immediately said, looking up in the direction of where Curly and the horse were walking.

He snorted quietly to himself, then asked aloud, "How are your legs feeling?"

"Funny."

"Told you didn't I?"

"How do you and Rosie know everything Tommy?" she asked, looking up to him - her question quite genuine.

He grinned down, "Call it a talent." It probably wasn't the answer Rosie would have given her, but he liked that he was omnipotent in her eyes.

She seemed content with that answer anyway, and they made their way slowly over to her sister and his uncle, her calling out, "Rosie, Rosie did you see me?"

"Of course I did," Rosie said, crouching down and holding her arms out for Lily to go to them, "You were very impressive. Did you like it?"

"Uhuh."

"Want to come back and ride again?"

"It's my horse."

"That's not an answer to what I asked you Lily," Rosie said with a smile, shaking her head fondly at the child.

"Well I have to come back or he won't know that he's mine," Lily told her in a serious voice, "Plus Uncle Charlie misses me when I don't come to the yard, don't you?"

"I do my little chicken," Charlie nodded, down at her, his cigarette hanging from his mouth as he answered, the corners of his mouth upturned at her.

"See!" Lily asserted.

"Well, we can come back then, but you don't have to ride him again if you don't like it."

"I did like it," Lily said, and he heard her roll her eyes even with her back turned to him.

He fought not to roll his own, figuring he couldn't tell her off for it when she saw him and her sister do it so often.

That, he supposed, was the problem they'd face given they were both so non-verbal outside of their enclosed family circles, that any little ones around them would pick up on all their other ways of communicating whether he liked it or not. He briefly imagined them in some fantasy living room, sitting on a sofa with a baby in her arms and another two little ones playing in front of them. He was sure they'd have that one day, but how far off it was he didn't know. She had to finish school and he had to get them out of Small Heath.

He looked at the blonde child currently in Rosie's arms. He was sure Lily would be a good big sister. She was, it seemed, slightly more outgoing in personality than her own big sister, but whether that was nature or the short-term bit of nurture she'd had being in a bigger family he wasn't sure. But although her caring had only been exhibited to him in the way she rocked her dolls and teddy bears and kissed them good night, he got the feeling she'd be naturally caring towards any other kids who appeared on the scene. He tried to picture her and Katie at Ada's age, then decided he'd rather not think about it.

On that note, he needed to keep a closer eye on John. Telling Finn and George they could go walk the fucking railway line! Imagining John with a fifteen-year-old Katie on his hands wasn't a pretty picture, for his brother or his niece. Or his own sanity.

"Alright, as long as you did," Rosie said to her sister with a laugh and kissed Lily's cheek, "We'll need to look into getting you something to wear for riding then, eh? You'll end up chafing your legs."

He hadn't even thought about that.

"Or she could learn to ride side saddle like a lady," Charlie snorted.

"I'm not a lady, I'm a girl," Lily told him.

"Quite right Lily," Charlie nodded, still laughing to himself.

"You ignore him," Rosie said, smoothing down some of the hair that had escaped Lily's braid, "You looked so good on the horse, I'm very proud of you."

"Tommy said I was good, he said I was a natural," Lily told her, pride in her own little voice.

"You are a natural," he confirmed - and she was - "Have you thought of a name for him now you've ridden him?"

"No," she sighed, her fingers going to her mouth so she could chew thoughtfully, saying through them, "It needs to be the right name."

"Alright, he can wait a while for a name," Tommy told her with a grin, "There's no rush. He's all yours so you've got plenty of time."

The finger chewing was something she did when she was nervous or scared at a situation, but he'd realised recently, it was also something she did when she was thinking and was nervous about making the right decision.

"Shall we brush him down then Lily?" he suggested, holding out a hand to her.

She released hers from her mouth and started to reach out to him, only to be interrupted by Rosie catching her wrist and wiping Lily's hands on her top.

"Lily sweetheart you can't put your hands in your mouth and then touch other people," she admonished gently.

He was about to say he'd had worse things on his own hands than a bit of spit but stopped himself. Rosie seemed to be trying to break the habit of the finger sucking - though by all accounts her efforts weren't having much effect.

"Alright, you go take care of your horse," she told Lily, giving her a gentle push in his direction once she was satisfied the little hands were free of saliva.

Curly had taken the saddle off and hung it on the wall and was talking away to the horse, "You're a b-b-eauty - b-b-beautiful eh - hah - b-b-beautiful boy, glad Tommy bought you," he was saying.

"Right Curly," Tommy said, coming into the stable, Lily's newly dry hand in his, "Lily is going to be looking after her horse when she's here, so you tell us what you need done."

He knew fine well what needed done, he knew horses, had always known them. Preferred them to most people. But Lily's old shyness reared its head around Curly. She hadn't been around him so much and he hadn't really spoken to her when he had been around - Curly didn't tend to speak unless spoken to and whilst Lily was coming out of herself a little amongst the other children on the lane, she was still quieter around adults and not prone to initiating conversation with anyone she didn't know. Even the odd time she was in the shop if a customer spoke to her she'd answer shyly and press herself close to him or Arthur, whichever one of them she had come into the shop to be around. And he knew the man who looked like a man but who had the brain of an innocent could be confusing to a child. So he was resolved that if she was to ride, she was going to have to get talking to Curly. Curly would love her, Tommy was sure of that, if only she made it clear she wanted to speak to him.

"B-b-b-bridle, Tommy," Curly stuttered, then laughed, clearly confused as to why Tommy was asking him to dictate things for once.

Curly did as Charlie or Tommy told him, always had done. Even when Tommy had been a kid he'd been able to order Curly round in a way that if he'd tried it with Charlie would have ended with Charlie's boot making its feelings felt on Tommy's arse.

"Alright Lily," Tommy said, lifting her up and sitting her on his hip, "Can you reach this buckle here - undo that for me - that's it, that's a good girl, nice and gentle."

Together they got the bridle off and Tommy passed it to Curly saying, "Well Curly, what do you think - did she do a good job?"

Curly nodded "G-good job, yeah, good!"

"Y'hear that Lily? Curly here is the best horseman in England and he reckons you did a good job," Tommy said.

Lily beamed and squirmed in his arms, pleased at the compliment.

"Will we brush him down Curly?" Tommy asked, trying to keep some sort of a dialogue flowing.

Curly turned from where he had been walking away to hang the bridle up, surprised at Tommy's asking a question of him again and nodded.

"Alright Lily, Curly says we brush him, now we're going to take this brush first-" he lifted it off the wall and stepping back to the horse, "-And it's going to loosen off any dirt he's got in his hair."

He placed her hand under his and together they brushed through, then Tommy called Curly in to inspect their work, before getting him to show Lilly the right motions with the next brush to, "Get out all the dirt we just loosened off with the wide brush, eh Curly?"

By the time they were finishing off the coat with the soft brush, Curly and Lily had said a few more things to one another - only about horses - but he figured it was a start.

It was once they had finished the soft brushing that Tommy looked at his pocket watch and announced they would leave Curly to do the mane and tail, bidding him and Charlie goodbye and setting back off to the house. It was nearly six, he knew Rosie would want to get dinner on and he figured with the last two nights being later ones for Lily than normal, she'd be better in her bed by her usual time, even if she did have another week of the holidays.

Aside from anything else, after the last two nights, he could use a night on the sofa with the redhead himself.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

He got the night he was after, alone on the sofa with Rosie, her head in his lap as she alternated between reading her book and talking to him, one of his hands moving his cigarette between his mouth and the air, the other snaking itself through her wild red tangles, trying to cut a path and finding itself quite happily trapped.

It had come earlier than usual too since, upon their return to the house, Polly had come along and announced Ada would be spending the night with her, that his sister was having women's troubles and it was best left in her hands. He nodded, accepting that women's troubles were, ultimately, best left to Polly. He could have sworn he had seen his aunt and sister making their way down Watery Lane much later that night, once it was dark, but that was after Lily and Finn had gone to bed and, with Rosie's head on his lap, he hadn't wanted to disturb her so he could go to the window and double check what he thought his eyes had glanced through the pane.

Rosie had seemed worried at Polly's words, asking if she wanted any help, but Polly had bid her stay. He had, selfish as it was, been relieved when she had agreed to stay. He wanted what he got that night - to play houses. To put the raid and the bonfire behind them and have a night together where their day had been about work and taking Lily to the yard and then having dinner and all just behaving like a normal family.

He had also been glad she had stayed when Finn came in and avoided him, shuffling around him and giving him one word answers when he spoke to him. She became their go between, the soft ground of being someone Finn went to school with (though he did reckon she had lost some of her hero status since she'd come to live with them and demystifying herself a little) and being - being whatever she was to him, whatever it was the rest of them classified her as or saw her as. It had more or less come out that Finn had presumed Scudboat arriving to tell them that Tommy had said they were to get off the railway line and back to Watery Lane as a sign that he was in trouble.

"Finn, you asked John and he said yes - I'm not going to wallop you for that. I'm tempted to wallop fucking John, don't get me wrong, but all I want you to do is ask permission before you go wandering - and you did that," Tommy had told his brother, who had breathed a sigh of relief and become more normal after that, sitting against Tommy's legs and answering his questions about his day and if he still wanted to come swimming with him and Lily - though he did go off to bed not too long behind the younger child.

Rosie had been scrubbing out the pot she'd left to soak once Finn had disappeared and Tommy had gone to her at the sink, his arms going to her waist, his mouth to her head, then her neck - finally meeting her own mouth when she turned her head to him before she had batted him and said, "Let me alone, I've got a pot to clean Thomas."

"Good to know I come in second to pot cleaning as far as you're concerned," he'd replied sarcastically, giving her a sharp smack that had elicited rather a pleasing high pitched squeak she'd been unable to contain - presumably because it had caught her by surprise. He aimed to educe it from her again in the future.

"Away and beg someone else for compliments," she'd replied, elbowing him, an eyebrow raised.

"Don't care about where I come in on anyone else's list of priorities," he'd told her, flicking his own eyebrows at her.

He could tell it had pleased her, though she hid her smile behind a smirk and a roll of her eye, turning back to the work in her hands.

He had settled himself standing against the table, smoking a cigarette and watching her.

"What are you doing?" she'd demanded suspiciously over her shoulder, drawing his gaze up from where it had settled on her arse, which presented itself most pleasingly as she bent over the sink.

"Waiting for you to be done cleaning that pot."

She'd rolled her eyes but he fancied then that she had taken it outside to rinse under the tap more quickly than she otherwise might have before she brought it in and put it on the side, wiping her hands on her trousers and meeting his gaze.

He'd crooked a finger at her, beckoning her to him wordlessly. And she'd come, standing in front of him, her chin raised in a small sign of defiance - as if to say that just because she'd come over when he'd called her, she wasn't going to be completely subservient.

"Hello," he'd said quietly, brushing his left hand down her cheek, his right arm resting on her shoulder, the curl of smoke coming from the cigarette in his right hand making it look like her hair really was on fire.

"Hi," she'd replied, just as softly.

And then he'd kissed her properly.

As always, thank you so much for reading along, favouriting, following, reviewing and messaging me, it gives me thrills every time I get an email to say someone has engaged with this! xx