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Chapter Text

Nancy was determined not to let the glances get to her. Internally, she was squirming and screaming at all the eyes on her. But she straightened her spine and made her way down the markets and into the barbers. ‘Morning, Kenny.’

‘Morning, Nance,’ a voice called from the back, and Kenny stepped into the main room, carrying the folding sign for outside. ‘Bloody hell. What happened?’

‘Had a fight with the tub,’ she said easily, waving him off. She glanced sideways to one of the mirrors, checking her reflection, checking her story. A burst lip and a big purpling bruise up the side of her jaw and cheek. It was believable enough.

‘Hope you’ve had a drink,’ the old barber said, chuckling a little as he passed her with the sign. He set it up outside, then came back to her, holding her chin, twisting her head to tilt to the light, wincing. ‘Bloody Nora, Nancy. You’ve done a right number there.’

‘I know – silly me,’ she said with a singsong laugh, moving away from him and hanging up her coat.

She’d worked for Kenny for a few months, cleaning up for him, doing his books. His brother sent his books over too, Keith, from the tailors. Between the pair of them, she earned a good wage. She’d go over to the tailors on Saturdays, Mondays and Wednesdays, helping with sewing and cleaning up. The only day spare was a Sunday, which she’d spend out at church, then cooking for the family. Less time at home the better.

Kenny sang to himself as he prepped for the morning, and she slid into a seat behind the desk, just behind the front door. It was all dark wood and red paint at Kenny’s, trinkets he’d collected, art his mother had painted. Cosy – to her, at least. She preferred the barbers to the tailors.

Here, she could sit about her day, doing the numbers at her leisurely pace, getting up to sweep after a customer had been in, going out to get her and Kenny lunch. Leisurely.

‘Bloody hell, Nancy,’ she heard, just after the bell had rang, looking up to see James, another one of the older gentlemen.

‘She’s fine, she’s fine,’ Kenny assured, knowing she wouldn’t want the fuss. He pulled James over to his chair, and they began their men’s chatter, much forgetting she was there.

She liked that too about the barbers. The men talked like men. She got to see into a world no other woman witnessed. At home, with her brother and sister-in-law, their boys, she was just a helping hand. Daniel was rarely home, except for meal times, so if she were at home it was with Rosie, who was kind enough. But she was set on not needing help in the home, not anymore.

‘They’re my kids – he’s my husband,’ she’d say with firmness. Nancy had moved in during the war, and Rosie had needed the help then. But she was determined that she didn’t need it now. Now they were a perfect family. Now Nancy was just an add on – an extra mouth to feed. A burden.

So, she worked. And treated the family when she could, though Daniel brought in enough to support them, doing whatever he did.

She made it her most important rule – to keep her eyes and her ears to herself. It was the best way to stay cheery, to stay positive.

‘Give it to Nance, she’ll put it through for you.’

Nancy looked up from her work, grinning at the man, who handed over his cash and gave her a nod. Mr Parkins, she knew. She hadn’t realised how much time had passed, her writing away, trying to ignore the dull ache up the side of her face.

She slipped off the chair, working her jaw. ‘Shall I do us a tea?’

Kenny was sweeping, humming again, but nodded. The man lived off tea and biscuits. Never married, lived in the spare bedroom in his brothers house, with him and his wife. Perhaps that’s why they got along so well, they were kindred spirits.

She hummed along quietly with him, stepping into the back room and setting up for making tea. There was a whole flat upstairs, empty. He rented it out usually, but as of late there hadn’t been anyone coming and going, and when she’d asked he said the young couple had moved out, but not that anyone else had moved in.

Wiping her hands, she stepped back into the room, stretching and raising her arms above her head.

‘Needn’t bother trying to get any taller, lassie. Didn’t work for me!’

Nancy rolled her eyes. ‘I’ve a few more years growing to do yet, Kenny. I’ll be taller than you one day.’

‘And you’ll have the sack,’ he declared with a smirk.

She chuckled, moving back into the back room and fixing their tea. As she was stirring, she heard the bell go, and Kenny’s singing stopped.

‘Mr Shelby, good morning.’

‘Morning, Kenneth. Here for a trim,’ a low voice replied.

‘Of course. Nancy?’

She was already moving through, wiping her hands on the back of her dress. She knew, of course, who the Shelby’s were. Thomas Shelby, she knew, usually came in on a Monday, when she wasn’t in. Same time every week. She saw his name in the book. His brothers came on Saturdays. She’d not had to deal with any of them before, besides the oldest. Once. He’d come in on a Thursday, and had been boisterous, but kind. Tipped her a few coins, just for being there.

‘Nancy’ll hang your coat,’ Kenny continued, glancing at her a little, but smiling, calmly. His eyes told her not to worry.

But Thomas Shelby was gazing down at her, with those empty blue eyes, and her throat went dry. But she held out her hands, forcing a small smile, though her teeth clenched.

Thomas handed over his belongings, but not before folding his hat in two and putting it in the jacket pocket, giving her a light nod in thanks. He sniffed, then moved to his seat, as Rosie hung his jacket and retreated to the back room, finishing Kenny’s tea as fast as she could.

She’d offer him one. And if he wanted one, he could have hers. She hadn’t heated enough water for more. She’d make do till he left.

Carrying it with both hands, she delivered Kenny’s cup and saucer to the shelf on the wall, two biscuits on the plate.

Kenny was tying the cloak at the back of the man’s neck, moving to get a fresh dish of water. Far enough that she was effectively alone with him, despite Kenny having not left the room.

‘Can I get you a drink, Mr Shelby – tea?’

‘No,’ he said, soft but brutal all at once, then glanced away from watching out the windows and to her, eyes flitting around her face. ‘Thank you.’

Secretly pleased, she gave a smile and moved away again, collecting her own drink and swiftly retreating back behind the desk, which gave her little respite, as she could see his face in the reflection of the mirror. Twice she glanced up, at the man, so threatening, so feared, but so silent and slight – in his own way.

‘Missed you yesterday, Mr Shelby.’

Thomas sighed, lips parting, eyes rolling a little. ‘Always busy nowadays, Kenneth. Barely knew what day it was. You’ve my apologies.’

Kenny was chuckling, shaking his head. One thing she liked was that he was always overly kind, always grinning. All this simpering wasn’t just because it was Thomas Shelby, it’s just who Kenny was.

‘Not a worry, Mr Shelby. I was only afraid you’d found someone else – that Jonas down the lane.’

‘Not at all, Ken. Takes much for a man to trust a barber,’ he said, then his eyes flicked to Nancy’s reflection, squinting one eye a little as her hand scribbled feverishly on the papers in front of her. ‘Didn’t know you had taken on a worker.’

Kenny took a second to realise who he meant. ‘Oh, Nance has been with me a while – works for Keith too. Alternates days. Funny you’ve always missed her. She works the books, keeps me in tea, helps clean up. She’s a good girl, our Nancy.’

Thomas didn’t reply to that, but did notice the way her cheeks turned a dark red, her head still turned down, her writing paused.

She did nothing, for the next twenty minutes. Only sat, staring at the pages, not looking away from them for a single glance. Then, when Kenny lifted the cloak, she slipped off her chair and got the mans coat. She knew what they said about the Shelby’s, about their caps, but in that moment, it didn’t occur to her. She took his hat from his pocket, letting it take shape again, and met him at the desk, holding it out to him.

Tommy looked down into the round, innocent eyes, the dark purple across her face, and rose a brow, taking the hat from her, and his coat, slipping back into them and his persona with ease.

‘No charge, Nance,’ Kenny called from the back room where he was getting the brush from.

But Thomas Shelby’s expression changed minutely, from the blank expression he usually wore, and he left six coins on the desk, in two stacks. ‘One for him, one for you.’

‘Thank you, Mr Shelby,’ she said, feeling stupid that it came out breathless and wavering.

He nodded, looking over her face once more, before he left.

When the door closed, she gripped the desk, blowing out a shaky breath. Kenny was chuckling at her.

‘He’s a reasonable man, Nancy. From a distance. You just keep sweet and you’ll never have any trouble.’

She stretched a smile. ‘He paid, you know – us both.’

‘Aye, always does. You get yours in your pocket – don’t be adding it to the box with the rest.’

She grinned, doing just that, deciding she’d get him a special treat when she went out for their lunches.

__________

The next time she’d see Thomas Shelby, would be outside of The Garrison, a few days later, on her way home from work.

There was a small commotion, the doors bursting open, voices calling. She barely looked up, only veered closer to the other side of the street. She wasn’t stupid. It was none of her business what men got up to on the drink. Nor did she want to draw any attention.

But then she heard his voice.

‘They’re gonna kill me! They’re gonna kill me!’

Nancy looked up, seeing her brother thrust to the ground by Thomas and another man.

Daniel was still shouting, and Thomas was shouting too, over and over again, right in his ear. ‘You’re home, Danny! We’re all in England! All of us!’

Freddie Thorne looked up, as Nancy came, falling to her brothers side, barking at Tommy, ‘Get off him! Get off him! He’s fine!’

Tommy ignored her, even her little hands shoving at him. He’d wonder later how she had the guts, a tiny little thing like that. But she loved fiercely, that he could tell.

‘Nancy! Oh Nancy!’ Danny wailed, and Tommy let up, pulling the man with him, panting. Danny was twice the width of him, and a good few heads taller. He wiped a slick of sweat from his brow, stepping back as Danny moved to the girl from the barbers, cupping her bruised cheek.

Then he looked back to Tommy, the other men, lining the street.

‘I did it again, didn’t I, Tommy?’

‘You did,’ Tommy said, nodding, taking a breath. ‘You did, Danny.’

Nancy ignored the look Tommy gave her, pulling her brothers face around to look back at her, not at all those watching. ‘Come on, Daniel. Walk me home.’

He was nodding, whimpering a little, ringing his cap in his hands.

She sent anyone looking a glare, and wrapped her brothers arm around hers, letting him look the leader, the carer.

Tommy, all at once, realised where the little girl might have gotten her bruises. He looked at Freddie, who was panting too, shaking his head a little. Then he looked around the street, at all the eyes on them. ‘Go about your days!’

The people scattered, men filing back into the pub, women pushing nosey children away.

__________

Nancy stood outside the house on Watery Lane the very next morning, frowning at the door. There was a horseshoe nailed to it, for luck, she guessed. Anything but a coward, she stepped forward, raising her hand and knocking twice.

There was a little shouting, raised voices from inside, then a woman opened the door. It was Polly Grey, she knew. Polly knew who everyone was in the area, and she didn’t doubt she knew who she was. Yet she said, ‘Good morning, I’m Nancy Owen.’

‘Good morning, Nancy Owen. Do you know it’s the crack of dawn?’

Thundering on the stairs behind her made Polly smirk.

‘It’s been cracked a while,’ Tommy said behind her, only in his shirt and trousers, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. His face appeared behind Polly’s. ‘You best be coming in, Nancy Owen. Pol will put the tea on.’

‘Oh, she will, will she?’ Polly replied, but moved back through the house to do it anyways.

‘I’m alright for tea, thank you. I’ve got to get to the tailors. I just wanted to stop in on my way,’ she said as they reached the kitchen. She’d barely even looked around, and if she had, she wouldn’t have seen much. The house was dark, not yet woken up to the day. There was a lot of brass and flowers around, that much she knew.

Polly gave her a soft smile, and slipped from the room, Tommy having already sat at the table, lighting a cigarette. ‘Smoke?’ he offered, and gestured for her to sit too, but she stayed standing, pressing her lips together, the cut now an ugly scab on her lip, her bruising faded but still purple. Tommy surveyed her a little, smoking, waiting for her to speak.

‘I’m here to apologise, for being brash yesterday. I lost myself a bit, it was a surprise seeing him – well, like that. Outside. With everyone around. You were helpful, really helpful. I’m glad he had you there for him,’ she said, then swallowed, following the movement as he tapped his ash into the dish on the table. ‘He doesn’t come out of it so easy most times.’

Tommy nodded to her cheek. ‘And that’s why you look like you’ve been in the boxing ring then, is it?’

‘Mr Shelby –‘ she started stuttering. ‘He’s a good man. Rosie locks the kids away. They’ve never seen him that way. I can’t leave him when it happens. It’s not so often, it’s really not.’

He settled back in his seat, brows flicking up a moment, gazing at her plait, rather than her. ‘He’s a great man.’

She relaxed a little.

‘How is it you’re living with Danny and Rosie?’

Licking her lips, she answered obediently, ‘Our mam died when I was a baby. Dan married Rosie, it was just me and dad. Then the war. So, I moved in to help Rosie with the kids. Dad didn’t come home, Dan did.’

‘Your dad’s house?’

‘Sold it.’

‘Why not live it in yourself?’ he pressed.

She furrowed her brow at him a little, shaking her head. ‘I was only sixteen, Mr Shelby. Just eighteen now.’

‘Ah.’

He’d thought her older. For some reason. Which felt stupid to him now, looking at her. ‘Danny never mentioned a sister.’

‘He doesn’t want me near any of it – not that I know anything about it. He doesn’t talk about his business with you at home. Must keep it the same way with you, for me.’

Tommy nodded, taking a deep drag on his cigarette.

‘Anyways. That’s my piece. I just wanted to apologise, and thank you. I’ll be off now, Mr Shelby. Sorry for disturbing your morning.’

Tommy rose, following her as she began to move her way towards the front door. ‘Nancy-’

She turned, like he’d given an order, waiting for him to speak.

‘You just get in touch with me, if you need any help with Danny, yeah? Let me know if he gets any worse. Try stay out of his way,’ he spoke low, knowing Polly was likely slinking around somewhere nearby.

Nancy shook her head. ‘I can’t just leave him alone when he’s like that. It’s the nights, that’s the worst.’

‘Aye, I can imagine it is,’ he murmured, looking over her damaged face with a heavy look. ‘Just remind him where he is. Don’t try hold him. You just shout it as loud as you can. Yeah? No touching him - no holding on.’

She nodded, eyes a little blurry. ‘Thank you, Mr Shelby.’

‘Take care, Nancy,’ he said, opening the door for her and watching her go, sighing once she had.

‘Well. That was an interesting visit,’ Polly spoke from the dark of the room, smoking in the back corner.

‘Danny Whizz-Bang’s baby sister,’ he said, running a hand through his hair.

Polly frowned knowingly. ‘Poor little thing.’

‘She’ll be fine,’ he murmured, though he gazed at the floor a moment, imagining what Danny must be like in a closed space, the girl cowering from him. It was terrifying enough in a half empty pub, let alone a living room. ‘She’ll be right.’

‘I’ll check in on her at the barbers,’ Polly spoke, mostly to herself, giving a nod, looking up to Tommy’s confused stare. ‘What, Thomas?’

‘How do you know she works at the fucking barbers?’

‘Your brother has two boys, and I’ve got Finn, all which I have to wrangle to the barber at least every so often so that they don’t look like little street urchins. Honestly, while you’re in the mood for sit down conversations, have one with bloody John.’

Tommy let out a great big sigh, rubbing his eyes, moving back through to the kitchen.

Chapter Text

‘Can I get you a tea, Mrs Grey?’

‘Call me Polly,’ she said with a wave of her hand, cigarette between her fingers. She’d brought in the same three wild boys she usually did. She’d only seen them a handful of times, but this was the first time Polly had been grinning at her.

It was a week since she’d visited Watery Lane, and she’d been glad to hear nothing of the Shelby’s since.

Nancy smiled at the young boy sat in the chair, having his hair cut just like his brothers. Finn was always calmest.

‘That one’s Finn, Tommy’s little brother. The other two are John’s – Jamie and Teddy. Nightmare, the pair of them,’ she said, but smiling. ‘They’ve got Katie and Joanna at home, John’s too.’

‘You’ve got your hands full,’ she said with a chuckle, unable to think of anything else to say. Polly smiled, kindly, then stepped closer to her, looking her over. ‘You getting on alright?’

Nancy nodded. ‘Of course – always working.’

Polly squinted at her a little. ‘When’s the last time you had your hair cut?’

Nancy gripped her long plait, thinking back. ‘Oh, a whiles.’

Polly gave her a proud nod. ‘I’m good with scissors, come on.’

‘Ah,’ Nancy let out in a breath, glancing to Kenny’s back.

‘Oh, honestly,’ Polly sighed, gripping her arm and moving her from around the desk towards a chair. ‘Lend me some scissors, Ken. Your bookkeeper needs more time off to look after herself.’

Kenny barked loudly, handing her a pair and a comb. ‘I’ve tried to tell her!’

Polly grinned triumphantly, undoing Nancy’s plait and combing through it. ‘You’ve lovely sandy hair.’

‘It’s beautiful,’ Jamie said, having come to stand beside Nancy’s chair. Teddy took to the other side, Finn looking as best he could at them all. ‘You aren’t going to cut it off, like yours, are you, Pol?’

‘Hush, you,’ she murmured. ‘Mind your fingers,’ she told the boys, who’d reached out to touch. ‘Hands to yourselves.’

‘Could say the same to you,’ Finn said, and she whipped his arm with her comb, making them all chuckle, especially Kenny.

Nancy watched Polly’s warm expression as she tended to her, trimming her hair to a more suitable length, still long, longer than most girls nowadays, but much better shape than it was.

‘If you were brunette, I’d have said you were a traveller, looking at this shine. You should wear it down.’

‘It’s a hassle. I should cut it all off, really,’ she said with a grimace.

‘Never!’ Jamie announced, giving his little brother a nod.

Teddy repeated it, then gave her a most firm look. ‘You’re like a princess.’

‘Princess Nancy,’ Kenny announced, sending Polly a wink. ‘It suits.’

When Nancy laughed, it occurred to her how rarely she did, and truly felt it in her chest. She smiled at little Teddy, asking, ‘So then you’ll be a knight?’

‘Aye,’ he agreed wistfully, giving a toothy grin.

She pressed her lips together, to stop from smiling so hard, and looked in the mirror to see Polly watching her, a smile on her face.

‘Next!’ Kenny called, and before Polly could stop him, Finn was out the door like a shot.

‘Little shit!’

Nancy laughed, rising from the chair and brushing hair off her, then looked to Jamie, who was looking all forlorn out the door like he might just escpae next before Polly could get his hair done. ‘Will you help me sweep up?’

He grinned, nodding his head, just like his uncle he tipped his hat, then stayed a step behind her as she went to the back room and got a brush for him, the dustpan for her.

They cleaned up together, Jamie catching every clipping off Teddy’s hair, giggling as he swept it up quickly under Kenny’s feet and Ken pretended to trip up.

Soon it was Jamie’s turn, and Nancy was back in her seat behind the desk, touching her new hair where it landed just above her waist, the ends blunt and fresh.

‘What are you writing?’ Teddy asked, pulling himself up onto her knee.

She was taken aback, but grinned, showing him Polly’s name. ‘This is your Aunt Polly’s name, and what time she came in, and the day. Kenny keeps a record of all his customers in this big book, and I write all the money down that we make, so he knows its all right.’

She flipped a few pages.

‘Look, there is your Uncle’s name, and Arthur, the other. Hang on,’ she said, looking further down the list, ‘Your daddy is here somewhere.’

‘You know my da?’ Teddy asked, all excited.

‘Well, I’ve not met him, he comes on a Saturday – I don’t work here on Saturdays.’

‘What days do you work?’

‘Well, what day is today?’ she asked, and Teddy shrugged.

‘Thursday, Teddy, you idiot,’ Jamie called from his seat and Polly gave him a light slap on the arm.

‘So I work Thursdays,’ Nancy listed, holding onto his waist, turning so she could see his face. ‘Fridays, and Tuesdays. And the other days I work at the tailors, with Kenny’s brother, Keith. And on Sundays I go to church, then for a long walk to get some fresh air.’

‘Do you ever go down the dock?’ he asked, brows raised in the middle.

Nancy chuckled, shaking her head. ‘Not much.’

He only grinned, looking back to the book, following his finger down the line. ‘Where is my da?’

She guided his finger to his name, following the letters. ‘There look – John Shelby.’

‘I want my name in the book!’

‘Well, are you paying?’ she asked, smirking when he shook his head as if she were most ridiculous. But she licked her lips, turning the pages to the days date. She began to write, speaking as she did, ‘Polly Grey, in the company of Masters Teddy, Jamie and Finn Shelby. Three trims.’

‘You have to put your name too – you got a trim!’

Polly chuckled under her breath, not much seeing the softer side of the boys. She looked at Jamie, who watched his little brother in the mirror with a look of longing.

‘Well, you see, your Aunt Polly cut my hair, so she’ll have to write my name and how much I owe her in her own book.’

‘It’s on the house,’ she said with a flutter of her fingers, dismissing Nancy, then smirking as she added, 'This time.'

Then, Jamie was finished, and the account was settled, Polly refusing to let Kenny waver the bill. The boys said goodbye, then Polly, winking.

‘Goodbye, your majesty.’

-----------

Nancy woke to a bang, then, half asleep, heard another, then a groaning wail. Nothing had happened for two weeks since that day in the streets, nothing to set him off. It was raining, hard, crashing against the windows, but she still heard the sound of Rosie sneaking into the children's bedroom and sliding the bookcase against the door.

The noises from down the stairs grew louder and clearer as she got closer, and when she came in full sight of the living room, they were amplified. Daniel was in the arm chair, head in his hands, groaning and wailing over the sound of the wind and the rain.

‘Dan?’

He didn’t respond, so she moved closer. It was a mistake – and also the first time that she thought the phrase: ‘I should have listened to Thomas Shelby.’

________

It was a day in the tailors, and she was unpacking rolls of fabric, reaching up to slid them onto the tall shelf stacks and tidying all the packaging away. Keith was in the back room, sewing a quick hem on a pair of trousers.

The bell dinged.

She could still hear the machine going, so she moved around the corner and to the entrance, finding there a very tired looking, dark eyed, Thomas Shelby, and his elder brother who seemed to be bouncing on both feet.

‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ she said, unsure how to really address them together. She was mostly taken aback by how simply rotten Thomas looked. ‘How are you both today?’

‘Well, thank you, Nancy,’ Tommy said, in his monotone way, as if he was bored of the conversation already. But his eyes were sparked, interested. Inspecting. ‘You weren’t at work yesterday.’

‘Oh, no – I was a little under the weather,’ she said, giving Arthur a polite smile, which he returned, scrunching his nose at Tommy’s behaviour.

‘It was raining the night before, Nancy,’ he then added, flatly, looking over her. ‘How’s your brother? Has he caught what you’ve had? A cold, was it?’

Nancy pressed her lips together, swallowing. She couldn’t lie, never could. ‘Sore throat.’

‘Ah.’ Tommy looked ahead, to the open boxes she’d been unpacking, then back to her, to the silky scarf she had tied around her neck.

To get his eyes back on her, she spoke: ‘Dan’s fine. He’s just having a couple of days rest, I think.’

Tommy nodded, then sniffed. ‘My brother, Arthur. Arthur, this is Whizz-Bang's baby sister.’

Arthur’s face lifted in recognition, grinning, dipping his head to her. ‘Nice to meet you, love. I know I’ve seen you around before. Danny’s a good lad – didn’t mind he had a sister.’

‘I was a bit of a surprise for me mam and dad, I think,’ she breathed with a laugh. ‘Wasn’t much around while he was growing up.’

‘Eighteen, Arthur,’ Tommy noted, and the other brother nodded, chuckling under his breath. ‘Keith has a suit for me.’

She had almost fully forgotten she was at work and leapt to attention, holding up a finger and rushing to the back. ‘Keith, Mr Shelby is here – well, two of them. Thomas says you have a suit for him?’

Keith looked at the mess surrounding him, his unbuttoned cuffs and the light sweat under his arms. He whispered, ‘It’s in a black bag, marked with his name. No charge, Nancy. Tell him I’m with a customer. I hope to see him next time.’

She smiled, nodding as she moved back out of the room and onto the shop floor, aware of the eyes on her. Keith was always the more nervous of the two brothers. Everything had to be just so. She checked the tags on a few suits, then found Tommy’s, taking it to him.

‘Should you like to try it on, Mr Shelby?’ she offered, but he shook his head.

‘That’s alright, thank you, Nancy.’

Relieved of the suit, she looked to Arthur. ‘Was there anything for you, sir?’

Arthur was grinning. ‘Blimey, if I’m a sir, you must be a duchess, or a princess.’

Tommy gave a flat look to his brother, who laughed again. His voice was like gravel, as opposed to the smooth, heavy, honey of Tommy’s. ‘That’s it, Nancy. Unless there is anything you need from us?’

She only shook her head, smiling sweetly again. She was terrified that the reason she’d seen so much of the Blinders recently was that they thought Daniel was mad, and they were scoping her out for proof of it. She wanted help. She did. And she’d seen Thomas Shelby fix her brother faster than she ever could. She only made him worse.

She was stuck between wanting him to help and being afraid that he might do the opposite.

In the end, it didn’t matter much either way, because a day later, Daniel would kill a man in the street who happened to be related to some pretty scary people, and Tommy would shoot him for it.

Or at least that’s what everyone else thought.

Chapter Text

Banging on the door, loud, first thing in the morning. Rosie was out, the older two kids at school and the baby with her.

Nancy wrapped her scarf around her neck, rushing to the door as she did, another few bangs coming. Upon opening it, she found Thomas Shelby, the first person she’d thought it might be, yet the last person that she expected.

He moved forward, without asking for entrance, but taking it anyways. And she left him.

‘Are you alone?’

‘Rose has the baby out, the kids are at school,’ she said, following him through to the kitchen. ‘Is everything alright, Mr Shelby?’

Thomas sighed, sitting at the table, putting his trembling hand to his head a moment. Then he righted himself, tapping the table in front of the other seat as an order to sit down. He looked haggard, traumatised somehow. Small. ‘I’m going to tell you something that not many people know. You can’t tell Rosie, you cant tell the kids, no friends, okay?’

‘What about Dan?’

He winced, closing his eyes. ‘Can I smoke in here?’

She leapt up and grabbed an ashtray, pushing it in front of him. The wait was patient on the outside, but inside she was bubbling over.

‘Your brother is alive, alright? He got himself into some trouble, Nancy, and the only way out was to shoot him. But I didn’t. We faked it. He’s alive, and he’s gone away, for a real long time. I can’t send you to him. But I knew you’d been through enough without thinking he’s dead too, eh? You’re a clever girl, aren’t you? You wont say anything.’

Nancy was silent a moment, gazing at his hand, going from his lips to the tray, to hovering mid air, to his lips again, to the tray. ‘Who else knows he is alive?’

Tommy flickered a few fingers. ‘A handful – that’s all. No one else can know.’

‘Rosie?’

‘She’d go to him straight away, Nancy, and give away his cover.’

‘How do you know I wont?’

‘You’re a good girl,’ he said, almost as if it were a threat. ‘You’re a smart girl who wants to keep her brother safe. If he comes back, or if the wrong people find out he could come back, he’ll be dead and so will I – alright?’

Nancy was nodding, but he could see that she was miles away. A few moments of processing, and she asked, ‘What did he do?’

Thomas looked away from her then, only for a split second to right himself, then gazed right into her eyes, no fear. ‘He killed a man during one of his funny spells, Nancy. A man with dangerous friends.’

‘More dangerous than you?’

He didn’t answer her, but his gaze drifted down to her throat. He nodded in gesture. ‘Are you going to show me what happened?’

Nancy clutched at her scarf, cowering in a little. ‘Why? What difference does it make?’

‘It will make me feel like I’ve done something good, keeping a young girl safe. Not that I’ve torn a family apart with no silver linings.’

The look on his face was so withered, so terribly honest, that she reached up and pulled the scarf away. Tommy gazed flatly at the marks there, where Danny’s hands had fit around her neck. He let out a laugh, that had no humour in it. ‘It could have been you.’

Expression tight, she wrapped her scarf around her and secured it. Tommy took it as his cue to leave. He had it half in his head he should threaten her to stay quiet, but he was good at reading people. Nancy wasn’t stupid.

She stood when he did, leading him toward the front door.

‘I’ll send money, for you, Rosie and the kids. Every week.’

‘That’s kind of you, Mr Shelby,’ she said, but her mind was elsewhere.

Tommy ducked a little, forcing her to meet his gaze where they stood facing each other in the tight hallway. ‘You’ll stay quiet, wont you?’

‘Yes, Mr Shelby.’

He looked at her a while longer, his cheek flickering as he clenched his jaw. He gave a nod, opened the door, and was half way down the steps when:

‘Thomas?’

He looked back at Nancy, his expression grim.

‘The war tore this family apart – not you,’ she said, and gave a forced little smile.

Tommy nodded, looking up and down the street. ‘You stay well, Nancy, I’ll see you soon.’

She didn’t reply, and he didn’t wait for one.

__________

‘Please don’t, Rosie – please stay!’

‘For what, Nancy? For you? For Thomas Shelby’s money? No. I’m going to my parents.’

Nancy followed her through the house. She’d packed while Nancy was at work, even packed the kids into the car. Nancy’s things still lay where she’d dropped them in the middle of the pavement to rush in. ‘Please – Rosie – please just stop! Talk to me!’

Rosie turned, finally, her face in a frown, her eyes growing glassy. Her voice was calmer though, softer. ‘I can’t stay here, Nancy. Not in this house, not on my own. Before you say it, I know you’ll be here. But I can’t support us all – and neither can you. I’m sorry, Nancy.’

She was blinking back tears, stepping down the steps. The kids were in the back of the car that Rosie’s father drove, waiting patiently whilst Nancy pressed against the glass. ‘I love you – I love you – I love you. Don’t forget, okay?’

The kids were crying then, the older of the two realising that she wouldn’t be going with them.

‘Why isn’t Nancy coming?’

‘Nancy – get in the car!’

She shook her head, wiping at her eyes, repeating herself over and over, as loud as she could to drown out their sobbing. But then the car was gone, and she was alone. All alone in a house with three bedrooms that she couldn’t pay for on her own.

She’d last a few weeks, but then she’d count her money for shopping, and realise she wouldn’t have enough to pay the rest of her way.

Thomas Shelby didn’t send money, because he assumed she’d left when Rosie did. Nancy had always slipped through the cracks in people’s minds before. Now was no different. Though it would be wrong not to mention that he did knock, a few times, just to check. But she couldn’t let the Peaky Blinders pay her way. If you let them, you owed them. She knew that much. That’s how men like that got by.

She’d save. Save and when she had enough money she’d go to Thomas Shelby and ask where her brother was, and then she’d go to him. That was her plan. But in that house she couldn’t save.

__________

‘I’m looking for lodgings. I work, I’m clean,’ she promised the last place she could think of to look. She’d never even been on the street before, let alone in the building. There was an overwhelming floral smell, and laughter coming from all corners of the home, people coming and going.

The woman looked over her, inspecting her. ‘How old are you?’

‘Twenty,’ Nancy answered easily. She’d realised at the first place she asked that an eighteen year old girl alone could never do well.

The woman was nodding, then waved her hand behind her. ‘You can have a room free, if you’re willing to work for it?’

Nancy licked her lips, looking past the woman to where a girl in nothing but a silk robe passed from one room to another, a suited man in tow, holding onto her hand like a life line. She realised then, where she was. But a free room, she’d only need to stay a few weeks and she’d be good to go. A few weeks, rather than a year somewhere else. Maybe a month or two would be better. She’d manage. If these girls could manage then she could.

She could do anything if it meant getting back to Daniel, if he actually was really alive.

Though, she knew the Shelby’s were many things, but liars they were not.

She was given a room, told to keep it tidy, keep her own things put away. Then a girl came, Sally. Sally gave her a couple of things, outfits, and told her to keep her hair down.

‘The men’ll like that,’ she said, looking her over in her silky slip dress and stockings. Sally was older, in her early twenties, and had a strange accent. ‘Where are you from?’

‘Oh, ah, just about twenty minutes walk,’ Nancy answered, letting the girl lean in to paint her lips. ‘My family is all gone. I needed somewhere to stay.’

‘Its alright here,’ Sally said with a hum. ‘Just do as your told. Matron doesn’t do complaining, so any problems you come to me or one of the others. But then we don’t do much either. How old are you?’

‘Twenty.’

Sally rose a brow at her, but said nothing. She asked low, ‘Are you a good girl?’

The way she asked, she knew it meant something different. ‘I know how to behave.’

Sally smirked at her. Her lipstick was smudged and her eyes were hazy. Nancy wondered if she were drunk. ‘Have you fucked before, then?’

Nancy’s jaw clenched. Her head shook.

Sally’s smirk faded a little, to a look of pity, but she didn’t let herself feel sorry for too long. ‘Then you’ll have to tell Matron. She’ll let the first fella know. She’ll send someone nice. He’ll pay extra, you know. She’s told you about money?’

‘She said the room is free,’ Nancy answered, but her stomach was rolling.

‘You pay her so much a month, not much. But she’ll ask for more the more men you see. You’re pretty too. They’ll like you. They like the new ones. Think you’re cleaner than the rest of us.’

Nancy swallowed. She wanted Sally to go away. To stop talking. She took a step back. ‘Thanks for your help.’

Sally smiled, but there was a little cruelty in it. ‘I’ll tell Matron about your golden crotch, she’ll send someone up if anyone willing arrives.’

Nancy nodded, backing away from the door until she landed, sat on her bed. She gazed at the peeling paint for hours, but no knock came.

She awoke to it though, in the early hours of the morning. A knock, and the door opening. She leapt up to sitting, wondering if it had been two minutes or two hours that she’d slept for.

‘Mary-girl?’ Matron’s singsong voice came through a crack in the door, then her head appeared. She looked over her, as Nancy swiped under her eyes and tried to fix her hair. ‘There is a gentleman here for you. Fix him a drink.’

She rose, moving to the tray of bottles and glasses in the corner, and began pouring. Her hands trembled, but she managed to fill a glass. She wondered if she was allowed to drink, and assumed she was, considering how drunk Sally had been. The whole place stank of booze and stale smoke, once you got beneath the floral scent. She filled another cup, hearing a body enter the room and the door close.

The man was appraising her, her long hair and petite frame. ‘Hello, love.’

She was relieved, beyond belief, that he sounded young, and local. She turned, and the breath caught in her throat. She’d not seen much of him, but she knew a Shelby when she saw one. John Shelby stood by the door, hands still in his pockets, his lips pulled in a small smile, cocky as it was.

Nancy moved forward, handing him his glass, which he took after a second watching her. His eyes hadn’t left her in fact. Glued to her face, her hair, the parts of her the silk slip stuck to. She licked her lips before taking a mouthful of the liquid, regretting it immediately. She’d had wine before, and a beer. But not strong liquor. She managed not to cough, but set it back down.

He was watching her still, waiting for her to speak first. He was amused, clearly unaware of how horrified – terrified – she was.

‘Can I take your coat, sir?’

John smirked openly at that, nodding his head softly, looking her from top to bottom. He didn’t move though, so she stepped forward. He wanted her to take it off, she realised. So she reached for the lapels of his jacket, and just as she made contact, his hands gripped her wrists and she let out a yelp.

John chuckled, opening and removing his jacket without taking steps away from her, so that he stayed towering above her, still looking over her face. ‘What’s your name?’

She hesitated a moment, then breathed out, ‘Mary. Mary is my name.’

He squinted a little, shaking his head, but leant down to her and said, ‘Well then, I’ll be Joseph then, shall I?’

‘Whatever you like,’ she said, and it would have sounded confident from anyone else, but even in her own mind, she was pathetic. So, she squared her shoulders, swallowed, and righted herself. She’d done much worse than this before. ‘Another drink?’

John noted her change of tone, but also the tremble in her little hand, held out to him, ready to give him anything. He clutched her fingers, all together in a bundle, and brought them to his lips, shaking his head. ‘No, love.’

When he kissed her fingers, just gently on the tips, she realised that this man, the terrifying man, was going to be her first everything. Tonight, now, in this moment. First kiss, first sharing of a bed. And everything and anything that a Shelby man would require in between.

‘You’re a virgin,’ he said, pulling her gently towards him by the hand. Nancy nodded, and he smiled, but with kindness in his eyes. ‘You’re pretty, Mary. Very pretty.’

‘Thank you,’ she replied with obedient politeness, and it made him chuckle a little. Now that he was close enough, she could feel his breath on her face. And it felt more intimate than any crude thing she’d known.

‘Have you kissed a lad before?’ he asked, breath on her face now, hands on her arms, running back down her and to her waist, tugging her in against his chest.

Nancy was breathing heavily. His face was so close. His lips. ‘No, no, I’ve never done anything.’

John hummed, one hand finding it’s way to the back of her neck. ‘I like your hair.’

‘Thank you,’ she breathed, but then her mouth was taken over, as he kissed her, holding her to him. He pulled back a few times, kissing her softly, much more caring than she’d expected the men to be in places like this. But Shelby men weren’t like others, she knew that from dealing with Thomas.

One of his hands moved, ever so slow, around to her hip, then slipping downwards, around her thigh. He hadn’t pulled away, only enough to put his forehead to hers. ‘I’m going to touch you, alright?’

Nancy nodded, breathless, and when his fingers found the soft skin no one had ever touched before, smoothing across and down to where he wanted to be. Touching between her legs, making her squirm and flush. Her stomach was coiling, and she felt sick and wonderful all at once.

His fingers worked in circles, eyes fixed on her face even as her eyes closed to focus on the new sensations she was feeling. Then the circles grew bigger, slipping down further. Then came the pain.

John held her close, hushing her, working a single finger into her. He maybe shouldn’t have done the first push so roughly, but he was eager, and he wanted her pain to be as swift as it could be. ‘Shh, it’ll hurt a little, princess. Just a little. Here.’

He’d used his free hand and gripped her own, bringing it down to the bulge in his trousers.

‘You’ve got all that to fit,’ he said softly, as if it were a great romance, ‘I’ve got to use my fingers first or it’ll be all pain. Alright?’

Before she could answer, her mouth was opening in a gasp as another finger slipped into her, making her burn. She whimpered as she spoke, ‘I – I-’

‘Shhhhh,’ he hushed, kissing her hair and her temple. ‘I’m going to sit down on the bed, and you’re going to sit on me, love. I’ll use my fingers, until you sing. Then I’m going to use my cock, alright?’

‘S-sing?’

‘Come on,’ he soothed, low and heavy, removing his hand and leading her to the bed. He sat against the headboard, holding her hips to guide her legs either side of his thighs, the sensation of her against his crotch making him groan a little.

It hadn’t occurred to her, until just then, that he was here for his own benefit, not for hers. Whatever he was doing to her, he must be enjoying it. His hands were on her again, then his fingers inside her, working in and out, the flat of his palm against her, rubbing, making her moan. There was not pain, just pleasure then.

‘You’re fucking pretty,’ John told her then, and she opened her eyes to find him gazing up at her, transfixed. She’d barely realised she’d started to grind against his hand until then. ‘Can I fuck you?’

‘Whatever you like,’ she said, breathless against him. ‘That’s the rule, isn’t it?’

He chuckled, cupping her cheek and bringing her lips to his. His fingers started working faster then, rocking back and forward inside of her rather than in and out. He grinned when she gave a cry of pleasure, kissing her cheek, keeping his forehead up against her temple as he worked harder.

When she reached her release, she could barely think, barely see, barely breath. There was liquid, all over her, and all over him. She didn’t know when he’d loosened his pants and pulled them away from himself, but she was glad of it. Panting hard, she looked away, to the side, anywhere but him, this man who’d made her feral.

But John had hold of her hip in one hand, and himself in the other, his eyes hazed over, bottom lip in his teeth as he lined her up over him. She could feel him, rubbing against her, and the way he caught in the hole he’d made with his fingers.

‘I’m going to put you on my cock now,’ he gasped, rubbing against her slit. ‘Alright, beautiful?’

The sound she released as he stretched her was of pain, surprise, and pleasure. The fullness she’d never felt. The burn.

‘Alright?’ he asked, voice strained, breath hot against her cheek. When he felt her nod, he slowly eased her up again, then gave a moan of his own as he pushed her back down, further than before. ‘Fucking hell.’

Nancy hummed, feeling tears prick at the corners of her eyes, though she willed them away. But then, there were fingers on her face, wiping her eyes, gently, though the thing inside her felt anything but. He held her still, arms encasing her, fucking up into her with grunts.

A hand was in her hair, another on her hip, her breast, her cheek, everywhere. He bucked inside of her, moaning and muttering to her, until she felt that feeling again, burning and full of pressure.

‘Oh my god,’ she squeaked, but he kept going at his rhythm. ‘Oh – oh – oh – God I-’

Then, John had hold of both hips, lifting her as he pulled back, slamming her back into him as he pushed up. And she was calling, crying out, and he was moaning. The mixing sounds of their cries and their flesh and their damp were deafening.

But she still heard him, heard him muttering into her ear between his grunts and his moans. ‘You’re mine now. Mine first. Broken you open. Had you on my cock. That makes you mine, yeah? My pretty girl.’

‘Oh, God.’

‘Say John. Say John. That’s my name,’ he gasped, pulling away from her to look her in the eye. ‘What’s yours?’

‘Mary,’ she sighed, then gasped when he rammed his hips into hers. ‘Nancy!’

John’s eyes rolled in his head, bucking up into her with defined force. ‘Pretty name for a pretty girl. Say my name, Nancy.’

‘I – I can’t.’

‘Say my fucking name!’ he ordered, but it was still soft, still gentle. His thrusts were not. He fucked her so hard she could barely open her mouth, let alone speak.

‘J-John! Oh John!’

He growled, fucking her then with no sound other than her little yelps and the sound of flesh on flesh. Then, she wailed and tightened on him. So tight. So tight he spluttered, gripping her hips and slamming her down onto him. He was moaning, like he hadn’t before, like a woman. But he couldn’t stop it.

Nancy felt him squirting up inside of her, and it felt warm, and nice. So nice. She wanted to kiss him, but thought that might be too much. But then he was kissing her, feverishly, only for a moment. Then she was lifted off, to the side.

John took out a cigarette, offered one to her, and she supposed she better have one. He had a ring of dried blood around his knuckles, but he didn’t care. He smoked, eyes closed, not even having bothered to put himself away or anything. Nancy tried not to look.

‘You alright?’ he asked, after a silence too long for her. He glanced side ways to her, his head tilting, mouth lifting at one side only slightly. His face, at least, was easier to read than Thomas Shelby’s. He had kind, feeling eyes. Alive.

‘Yeah, yeah. Are you?’

He snorted, finishing his cigarette and sliding from the bed. He finally did up his trousers, fixed his shirt. ‘I’m alright, love. Don’t you worry about any of that.’

She smiled a little, blushing. She’d pleased him. At least, in everything, she’d been enough. She watched him fix himself in the mirror, his gelled hair having come loose, flittering across his forehead in a way almost endearing.

He set his money on the dresser, giving her a wink in the reflection of the mirror, putting a second cigarette in his mouth and moving for the door. ‘See you, princess.’

Nancy met her own eye in the reflection for a long, steadying moment. Then her eyes fell to the money on the dresser. She didn’t know how much she was supposed to be paid, but it seemed like too much and not enough all at once.

Chapter Text

None of the other men would pay as much as John Shelby had that night. And she wouldn’t like any of the others half as much.

There was one, who insisted on coming early in the morning a few times a week, walking her to walk and the lot, as if they were sweet on each other. She wasn’t sweet. She was saving. Unfortunately, the sex paid more. She’d dropped her days at the barbers, and spent her working days in the back room at the tailors. She still did Kenny’s books, but she did them propped up on her knee while she had breaks between sewing and cutting fabrics.

Keith didn’t mind it, when she said she would rather work in the back. Kenny and he had figured it was all to do with Danny getting shot. She was grieving in a way neither understood. But they were concerned about how much thinner she’d become.

Nancy was saving every penny she made, and was always in such a rush to get from here or there, or sleeping off her horrible male encounters that she barely remembered to eat, could barely afford to if she kept to her saving. She’d put all her money into a shoe box under her bed, and made it her own rule that she wasn’t to take anything out that went in.

__________

‘So, if you work in the tailors, what makes you need work the beds too?’

Nancy closed her eyes, walking as fast as she could to make the walk as fast as possible with Ethan. He was sweet and all. But he thought if he was nice enough she’d like him. Enough to marry him, likely. But she wouldn’t.

‘I am saving up.’

‘What for though? Where could you want to go so badly?’ he asked, keeping the pace easily. He was short for a man, but still taller than her.

‘Oh, anywhere, Ethan. Anywhere at all,’ she said, grateful when they turned the corner and she could see Keith setting out the shop sign. ‘I’ve got to go. Bye.’

‘I-’

She didn’t listen, nor care to. She wanted to be in the building as fast as possible, locked away in the back, making money by the stitch. ‘Morning, Keith.’

‘Brought you some breakfast, Nance!’

‘Thank you!’ she called over her shoulder, scurrying in, picking up the parcel on the way past the desk. She ate, she worked, she made tea, she worked, she went back to her room in the brothel, she napped, she worked, she slept.

It had only been three weeks, but she was hoping that John would have came back. From what she had heard from the girls he hadn’t been back since. He was the kind of guest that got spoken about when he visited.

It was silly really. She was a whore. Not even a real one.

The other whores didn’t even like her that much. She’d tried. Tried to be kind. But they didn’t want her.

‘You’re saving up all your pennies – to go where?’ Sally had asked one night, stood in the doorway of her room. She’d burst in just after a client left, and Nancy knew it was because she wanted to see where she was hiding her cash. Luckily, she’d just stood from putting it away when Sally opened the door. ‘They’ll smell it on you, you know. You can do sums and reading as much as you like, smile sweetly, but they’ll all know what you are. Normal folk can always tell a whore. Once you’ve been one you can’t take it away.’

‘Stop it, Sally.’

Sally had a tendency to lash out. It was just Nancy’s turn.

‘You’re stuck in it like the rest of us – even that little slimy git Ethan wouldn’t marry you, not really.’

Nancy rose, moved to the door and closed it, without another word. She wasn’t violent, she wasn’t angry. Not at Sally. Sally’s own life was so sad that it wasn’t a surprise she was so bitter about everyone elses.

Nancy would be broken though. When she came home one afternoon to her door ajar. She still held the key, squeezing it in her hand, when she rushed in, seeing her room in tatters. Her money was gone – and she knew where it was.

She burst into Sally’s room, pushing the girl against the wall by her shoulders. ‘You fucking bitch!’

Sally was drunk, or high, laughing. ‘What is your problem, Mary?’

Screaming, Nancy pushed Sally against the wall harder. ‘Where is my money?’

‘I haven’t got your fucking money,’ Sally growled, but there was amusement in her eyes. ‘What, are you going to hit me?’

‘I’m going to fucking kill you!’

Before Nancy could get a proper grip on Sally’s throat, she’d been headbutted, right on the brow bone of her right eye. Nancy wasn’t a fighter. It was stupid to think that she could have been. But as Sally straddled her, laying into her with all that she had, she raged against her. She may have been beaten, but it was not without a fight.

Matron was called, Sally pulled off Nancy.

‘She’s got my fucking money!’

‘Oh! The millionaire whore, are we?’ Matron asked, rolling her eyes. She glanced at Sally. ‘Have you taken anything off her?’

‘I wouldn’t want anything off her anyways.’

Nancy could have screamed again, but instead she pulled out of the girls arms, and rounded the corner to her own room, slamming the door. She heard Matron, shouting about having two girls out of service unless a man fancied bedding a boxer.

She wondered if, it having been the second time she’d been called it, maybe she could make a proper wage in the ring as a boxer rather than a whore. She certainly wasn’t pretty anymore.

__________

Matron had been kind enough to loan her some money to buy some powder to cover up with. She couldn’t perform as she was, which meant she’d have no money until she healed from her black eye and the scratches on her cheek, purple beneath those too. She’d put a note through Keith’s door, saying she’d be off for a few days ill. He’d known about Dan, why she’d sometimes come in scuffed up. But with him gone, she had no excuse for it.

She was coming out of the pharmacy, powder in her bag, when she heard, ‘Look, it’s the princess!’

Ridiculously, her eyes filled. She looked up the street to see Finn and Jamie skipping up the road towards her.

‘Fucking hell, what happened to you?’ Finn asked, and she frowned at him.

Jamie beat her to it though, scolding his uncle with, ‘Don’t speak to girls like that.’

Nancy smiled. ‘I just had an accident, is all. Are you two with Polly?’

Jamie shook his head, but was too eager to clarify, asking, ‘Why aren’t you at the barber’s anymore?’

Her throat was closing over. ‘Well – I just got a new job.’

‘Where?’ Finn asked, scrunching his nose still at the sight of her.

‘Oi! Took me an hour to find the pair of ya and now you’re running off!’ a voice came from behind her, and the ground could have opened up and she’d have gladly sank to hell. ‘Sorry, love. Hope they are bothering you.’

‘She doesn’t mind, do you?’ Finn asked, eager not to get in trouble.

‘Da, she’s a princess. Look at her hair! Teddy says so.’

Nancy looked at the ground as John’s footsteps slowed behind her, then stepped around her to stand by the boys. Forcing a smile, she looked to Jamie and said, ‘Just silly games, wasn’t it.’

‘When the fuck were you playing games with them?’ John asked, his face scrunched up in a way that made her heart twinge.

‘In the barbers,’ Jamie said with a sigh, rolling his eyes.

John was nodding then in recognition. He’d heard about her. ‘Princess Nancy from the barbers.’

‘Not anymore,’ she clarified, finally meeting his eye, only for a flicker. She cleared her throat. ‘It was nice to see you again, boys. Thank you for saying hello. You be good for your da, and you too, Finn.’

‘Hey-’ John tried to stop her, but she held up her hands in defence and he flinched back. ‘Come on then, lads. Say bye.’

‘See ya,’ Finn said, and Jamie matched it, but then grinned, adding, ‘Your majesty!’ on the end.

She gave the best apologetic look to John that she could. She wanted him to know that she wasn’t some random whore accosting young boys on the street. But he was only gazing at her in surprise.

She rushed back then, buying with the last of her borrowed money a loaf of bread, planning to make it last the week. She wouldn’t have to though.

That night her door would be opened, so hard that it would slam into the wall. She was on the bed in her slip, reading one of the books she’d taken from home. She’d read it three times by then, but it was better than nothing.

Thomas Shelby looked more animated than ever, from her experience anyways. Her heart was hammering, from both his abrupt entrance, but then at the horror of why he might be there.

‘Get the fuck up, get anything that is yours and put some fucking clothes on.’

He’d pointed at her, barked his order, then moved back outside of the room, slamming the door closed behind him.

She was half-way through doing as she was told when she realised two things: one, that she was crying, and two, that Thomas Shelby was nothing to her, yet here she was flittering around her room with shaky hands trying to pack her things as fast as she could because he had said so.

It didn’t stop her though. She packed, put a coat on over her slip and shoved her feet into some shoes. She didn’t have anything dry. She’d gotten home and washed almost all of her clothes and had been drying them on a line across her room. But now they were damp in the bottom of a bag, her other pair of shoes and the one hat she owned on top of them. She’d left a lot of things at home. Too much to carry.

She opened the door, suitcase in hand, looking up to Thomas Shelby, who glared down at her, his jaw clenched tightly. His eyes flickered over her wet hair, then what she was wearing, but he nodded down the hall. And she set of walking like a loyal dog.

Her suitcase was slipped from her hand, but nothing else was said as they left, not even by the girls and the men watching on. Ethan was at the bottom of the stairs, Matron stopping him going up. He saw her and nearly spoke, then saw who was behind her and closed his mouth.

Nancy met eyes with Arthur Shelby, who stood by the front door, hands clasped in front of him. Then, when she was outside, noticed another man on the outside of the door who she didn’t recognize, but who was clearly with them.

‘Get in the car.’

Again, she did as she was told. She got in the back, with Arthur. The other man and Thomas were in the front. No one spoke. The drive was short, to Watery Lane.

‘Get out,’ Tommy ordered, and Nancy made to move, but he added firmly, ‘Not you.’

She gazed at him, from where she sat diagonally to him in the back. His hands were gripped tightly on the steering wheel, his jaw still flexing.

‘My brother told me a story. About little Jamie and Finn seeing a princess outside the pharmacy today.’

‘I wouldn’t have spoken to-’

‘Ah – ah,’ he said, raising one hand. He chuckled, to himself. ‘Then John said it was a beat up whore from the brothel he’d fucked - a month ago. Then he stopped for a minute to think, and thought he should maybe tell me that Danny Owen’s baby sister, who I had promised to look out for, had not left Birmingham with her sister in law, but was letting men fuck her for money, just up the road. Himself included. And looked like she’d been battered too.’

‘He didn’t know who I was-’

‘Until the boys said,’ Tommy said with a sigh, leaning his head back and looking up to the roof of his car. ‘I know.’

‘No man has hit me, either. Another girl stole my money. Money I’d been saving to go after my brother – who you fucking sent away and left me, all on my own, to fend for myself. Don’t you judge me for the position that you put me in!’

‘Don’t shout at me in me own fucking car!’ Tommy barked back, turning and pointing at her.

‘Stop fucking pointing at me! There is only one person to be pointing fingers at, and it’s you! You fucking did this to me, Thomas Shelby!’

Tommy’s gaze was wide and wild, horrified by her words, looking at her skinny wrist, her battered face. He was shaking his head, but she was sobbing, looking out of the window, likely regretting speaking at all. She had been sweet. So sweet.

He swallowed. ‘Go in the house. Polly has a bath for you.’

‘I don’t want a fucking bath,’ she argued tiredly.

Tommy let out a tired, humourless chuckle, taking out a cigarette and inhaling on it deeply. ‘You fucking stink of the spot.’

Her eyes flashed to him, remembering Sally’s words. That people would be able to smell it off her.

Tommy glanced back, his expression calmer, kinder. ‘Go on, Nancy.’

She held his gaze a long while, then slid from the car, and to the open door of the betting shop. It was alive inside, like it hadn’t been last time.

Arthur was there, Polly too. Another body she didn’t recognise, the man from the car. And of course, John. The other men in the room had averted their eyes, seeing as her slip was almost entirely see through, especially with how cold she’d gotten coming out in the night with hair wet from the bath. John gazed at her though, looking ashamed of himself, ashamed of her.

She flatly glared at him, even as Polly came to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, muttering in her ear and pulling her towards the stairs.

‘Come on, my love. I’ve a bath and a fresh change ready for you. Then we’ll have a tea – or a gin – whichever the mood requires.’

Once the girls were up the stairs, Tommy entered the house, taking off his cap and moving to pour himself a drink.

‘Didn’t have to shout at the lass, Tom,’ Arthur said.

‘She shouted first,’ he reasoned, raising a firm brow to his elder brother, then glancing to John. ‘Anything to say?’

‘No, Tom.’

‘Good. I don’t want to hear a word from anyone. Not tonight. Things have been handled badly. Very badly.’

The room fell into silence, hearing the muffled sounds of Polly speaking upstairs, then the sound of someone getting into the tub. Then sobbing. Heart wrenching, gut clenching sobbing.

Tommy glared at the fire, refusing to look at anyone else in the room. Arthur nodded at the others, giving them their leave, and they slipped from the home in silence.

The stairs creaked, some half hour later, and all the brothers looked up to see Polly sneaking down, a grim look on her face.

‘Pol?’

Polly lit a cigarette. ‘She’s half asleep, Tommy. Girl has barely slept or eaten for weeks, I’d say. She’s been saving up - to go to London,’ she said, giving him a pointed look. ‘One of the other girls took her money, so she got in a scrap.’

‘Didn’t seem the type,’ Arthur said in his low rumble, rubbing his moustache over.

‘She’s not,’ Polly said firmly, leaving no room for argument. ‘Survival instincts.’

‘Fucking hell.’

Although he knew that John had nothing to do with the state she was in, Tommy couldn’t help but hold some hatred for him. How many men had used her? And he was one of them. He was no better, but while he was in this mood, this mindset, he couldn’t speak to him. It's not as if he never fucked a whore.

Tommy picked himself up, and made for the stairs, but Polly stopped him with a snap in her voice:

‘Don’t you dare be cruel to that girl, Thomas Shelby.’

He didn’t reply, only continued on his way, moving to the door of the bedroom she’d been given. He knocked lightly, then entered. Nancy was about to speak, but he beat her to it. He was firm, but his words were sincere: ‘I sent your brother away because I had to. Otherwise he really would be dead. Understand? I came and got you tonight because I promised him I’d look after you, and I haven’t been doing that. Would have, if you’d come to us – you didn’t – but here we are.’

‘He was looking after me,’ she croaked from where she sat on the bed, frowning at him, chin threatening to tremble.

Tommy shook his head. For the first time, his voice was gentle. ‘No, he wasn’t, Nancy. Not in the state he was.’

She cried, because he was right. He let her too, standing, waiting for her to finally say, ‘I’m sorry, Mr Shelby.’

‘It’s Tommy now. You’re a house guest – not my barbers bookkeeper. Alright?’

She righted herself a little, turning more to him on the bed, wiping those bruised eyes. ‘Whose bed am I in?’

He smiled at her sweetness. ‘Don’t worry about any of that. You sleep well, have breakfast in the morning, yeah?’

‘Alright, Tommy,’ she said with a sniff, then looked at him, all wide eyed. ‘I’m sorry for shouting in your car.’

Tommy smiled at her then, simple and soft, as if it were the easiest thing for him to do in the world. ‘It’s alright, darling. You get some sleep, yeah?’

Nancy nodded, and obeyed.

Chapter Text

Waking up had been strange, and even stranger was the time of day it was. She’d slept until midday and could hear rowdy bustling about beneath her. Thankfully, Polly had hung a dress on the back of her door, and set a pair of shoes just outside of it, because when she went downstairs and through the living room, the betting shop was ram packed full of people.

Arthur clocked her first, grinning as he yelled over the madness, men collecting their money, placing more bets. He gestured her over, and she slipped between bodies and to his side. ‘Don’t get fucking trampled there, Nancy-girl! You just woke up, eh?’

‘Yeah,’ she called over the noise, chuckling. ‘Is it always like this?’

He looked at his watch, leaning towards her. ‘Another twenty minutes and they’ll all piss off back to work.’

She grinned at his wink and stuck close to him. She’d felt safe, she realised. While she slept, and then, beside Arthur, despite not knowing him at all. These men had vowed to protect her, and somewhere inside her, her soul had decided it was true.

‘Can I do anything to help?’ she asked, but Arthur didn’t hear her, shouting over her to a man at the other end of the room.

‘Stay close there, girl. I’ll keep an eye till Tommy comes. Due back any time now.’

‘Oi! What happened to orderly queuing!’ Tommy’s voice barked over the top of them all then, but he was grinning, when she found him, just in the door way, arms out. Despite his smile, the men settled somewhat.

Tommy’s eyes scanned the room, as they always did, and she watched him do it, and how they doubled back on her, squinting a little in surprise, but then smiling and beginning to work his way through to her, greeting men as he did. ‘Good afternoon, Nancy. Sleep well?’

‘Very,’ she admitted, letting him take hold of her wrist and lead her back through to the main house.

‘I wouldn’t spend too much time through there, if I were you.’

‘You’d rather I didn’t?’ she asked knowingly, but he shook his head.

‘Not because I don’t trust you – it’s them I don’t trust,’ he said simply, gesturing for the kitchen. ‘Pol’s got the kids out to the doctor, or she’d be here making you breakfast and sharing some old wives tales no doubt. Help your self to anything, alright? Anything here is yours.’

It was strange to her, how excited, and relieved he seemed to be to have her there. But she couldn’t help but ask, ‘Tommy?’

‘Hm?’ he had his back to her, getting out bread, cups, tea, fruit, everything he could find that she might want. He turned to face her as he was pressing at a chip in one of the plates.

‘How – how long am I to stay here?’

His expression didn’t change, not to the unknowing eye. But Nancy saw the switch. Fear. ‘As long as you need to. As long as you want. No expenses. Expected to pull your weight, of course. Help Pol with the cooking, the cleaning. Yeah?’

‘For how long?’ Nancy repeated, chewing at her bottom lip, waiting for a real answer.

Tommy’s brows rose, and he blinked, looking away. ‘You stay here until you marry a decent bloke and move out, alright? Family home style. We don’t have a mam and a dad, but we make do.’

The air swept from her lungs in a single blow. Her head was shaking. ‘People’ll talk, Tommy.’

He chuckled. ‘Then let them say how I kept a promise to a friend.’

‘I’m-’

‘You’re family. Alright?’

‘Suppose that makes me Uncle Johnny then,’ a voice came from the back door and both looked up to see John, grinning, an air of discomfort around him still. He dipped his head below the door frame, stepping into the room.

Nancy opened her mouth, but then Tommy was in front of her, handing her a tea, saying, ‘Take a seat, Nancy. I’ll find you some breakfast.’

John smirked at his brother, just as Arthur walked in. ‘Tommy is cooking, Arthur.’

‘Jesus fucking Christ. What’s happening?’

‘We’re uncles,’ John announced, sending Nancy a wink that nearly crippled her.

Arthur cheered and barked laughter, moving and putting a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. ‘Pleased for you, brother, I am.’ Then he turned to Nancy, pointing to her, ‘Thought we’d lost you last night when you shouted at him, like.’

John giggled like a little boy as Arthur stood himself up and puffed out his chest.

‘Don’t shout in my fucking car!’

‘Alright! Alright! Fuck off!’ Tommy shouted then, waving them away. ‘Can’t fucking think for the pair of you!’

Nancy looked down, cheeks burning, trying not to laugh, but when she looked up, Arthur’s eyes were on Tommy, grinning wildly, and John’s eyes were on her, full of mischief.

‘Alright, da,’ he said, and Tommy moved to hit him, John ducking out the way and out the room, laughing loudly.

For all their tailored suits and fresh trims, they acted an awful a lot like little boys on a street corner.

Tommy looked over his shoulder at her, smirking. ‘Let me know if they annoy you. Or anything else, for that matter.’

‘I will,’ she promised, smiling at her half blackened toast, thanking him graciously for it.

__________

Morning’s were different, after that. Nancy was with the girls. Ada, Pol. Ada was suspicious of her, but had clearly been ordered to be kind. She mostly just acted as if Nancy wasn’t there.

‘Pass the butter, love,’ Polly said to her over the paper.

Nancy did. It was only her fourth morning with the Shelby’s. She’d not seen Tommy for more than a handful of minutes. All her time had been spent with Polly, or alone in her room, sleeping her life off.

‘What you reading the paper for?’ Ada asked, rolling her eyes, then glancing to Nancy. ‘I’ve only ever seen her use them for the fire.’

Polly gave a tired look, listing the amount of strikes happening, the other woes of the world. She looked up, just as Ada shovelled in half a slice of bread lathered with jam. ‘Stand up.’

Ada gave her a glare and Nancy blinked, looking between them.

‘Stand up!’

Sighing, Ada did as she was told, stood in her slip and her dressing gown. Then Polly was upon her, groping her breast, Ada fighting her off.

‘Polly! Jesus christ!’

‘Just how late are you, Ada?’

Nancy looked down when the other young women glanced sideways to her.

‘Am not having this conversation – not in front of her – not at all!’

Polly pointed to Ada, growling, ‘You’ll answer me now or I’ll open that door and shout Shelby.’

She sneered, looking to Nancy again.

‘You’ll not be cruel to her – she’s part of this family as long as she’s under this roof. She’s one of us now. There’s only us. Now answer me.’

Ada fumbled a moment, then admitted it. She was five weeks late, more, including weekends.

‘Oh, Ada,’ Polly sighed, slumping back into her chair, head in her hands. Nancy wanted to leave the room, but instead she could only pretend she wasn’t there by sitting as small as she could in her chair. ‘Go get dressed – actually. No. We’ll go tonight.’

Ada looked at Polly, then to Nancy, horrified. ‘She’s not coming!’

‘I’m not to leave her in the house alone, do you think your brothers would be suspicious if I was suddenly palming her off on one of them so we could go on a jaunt together?’ Polly asked firmly, then added, without looking her way, ‘Sorry, Nance.’

Nancy stayed quiet, until it had been too long for Ada to answer, then she spoke softly, ‘I know a woman that Rosie went to…’

Ada looked at her, frowning, but open to listening.

Swallowing, Nancy gave a small smile. ‘She got pregnant just after the baby – she didn’t want another with Dan how he was. So she got rid of it. But the woman, she’s a nurse. She’ll tell you if you are or not.’

‘I don’t want to get rid of it,’ Ada said swiftly, looking to Polly with horror. But then they heard a door open and close, someone coming through from the front.

Polly gave both the girls a terse look, then looked back to her paper, taking a sip of her tea.

‘Morning, girls,’ Arthur greeted, patting his pockets. ‘Lost me bloody – ah – found it.’

Ada let him kiss her cheek, then Polly. He gave Nancy’s shoulder a light squeeze.

‘Morning, Nancy-girl.’

Then he was gone, as swiftly as he’d entered. They listened for the door closing again, then Ada flashed a glare to Nancy.

‘Not a word to anyone, or I’ll cut all your pretty hair off.’

Polly gave Nancy a bored look, rolling her eyes, which did little to settle her. Polly, it seemed, wasn’t afraid of anything.

__________

Ada, having made quite clear that she didn’t want Nancy in on her examination, didn’t put up a fight when Nancy said she’d wait on the street.

Polly looked up and down the dark road, her breath billowing out around her. She gave a nod. ‘Alright, Nancy-girl. You take some smokes, look like you’re waiting for someone. Don’t stand here though. Around the corner.’

She didn’t reply, only took the cigarettes, and the matches. She wasn’t Polly’s main priority in that moment, she knew. She was only there to keep Tommy from asking questions. Though, the amount he’d been around, she wondered if he’d notice at all if she were to be left unattended.
And what did he think anyways? That she was going to run away? That she would steal from them? Do something to jeopardize them?

‘Excuse me, Miss?’

She looked up, caught in her daze, and set eyes on a man in a trench, with a cane. ‘Good evening, sir.’

‘Inspector Campbell,’ he gave, and her stomach twisted. She’d heard his name thrown around. Not with context, but she knew he wasn’t someone she wanted to be speaking to. ‘Can I catch a light from you?’

She fumbled a little, handing him Polly’s matches and putting a cigarette between her lips in a way she hoped seemed natural. She needed something to do with her hands.

He lit his pipe, face illuminated by the glow, then leant into her, cupping the flame around her cigarette, watching her inhale it before throwing away the match and handing her back the packet. ‘I didn’t catch your name.’

‘Nancy,’ she said, assuming he might already know, being an inspector and all. ‘Nancy Owen.’

He smiled at her sweet compliancy, then squinted as if in thought. ‘You have taken up residency with the Shelby’s, recently.’

She gave herself time by taking a low drag, then nodded. ‘My brother and the Shelby brothers went to war together. He died, a few months ago. I’ve no one else.’

He smiled. He had already known, she could tell. ‘I’m sorry to hear it, Miss Owen.’

She gave a tight smile, and he waited, seeing if she would fill the silence, but when she didn’t, he tipped his hat.

‘Good evening, Miss Owen. Don’t stay out too late, will you. The streets are dangerous, for a girl alone.’

‘I’m not alone,’ she said, glancing at the corner, praying that Polly would come around it soon, or even Ada, in all her defiant glory.

Campbell gave an ugly chuckle, glancing up and down the dim lit streets.

It was only a split second, but she simply refused the entire situation. How dare he, after all that had happened, make her feel scared. She wasn’t suffering under the hand of some smarmy copper.

‘You seem quite alone to me, Miss Ow-’

‘There you are, sweetheart! Come on, we’re late.’

Swallowing her fear, Nancy started walking swift, past the inspector, and towards John, where he stood at the opposite end of the road, a few other Peaky boys as silhouettes against the lit houses. Her heels clacked on the stone, too loud for her.

His expression remained joyful, though his eyes squinted a little at the man up the street. John took the cigarette from his lips and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, nodding to the boys to follow. His touch was not as familiar as she’d thought it would be, having spent so many moments remembering it.

Nancy took a few deep breaths, then said, ‘I’m so glad you showed up.’

John’s brows raised, his arm coming away from her. He continued smoking, looking her over. ‘What the fuck are you doing down here? We thought you were out for a drink with Pol and Ada.’

‘Well, we got separated – he cornered me. I was a little drunk,’ she rushed out her lines, which actually made her story somewhat more effective. ‘I wandered away to ask someone for a smoke.’

He pulled a grim expression, but sighed, shaking his head. ‘What did he want?’

Nancy shivered a little. The pair of them felt the awkwardness fall over them all at once, now that they were out of their predicament. ‘He asked my name, then if I was living with Tommy. Then if I was alone.’

‘Did he try anything?’ he asked, and she looked at him, but his eyes were forward, his walk still a swagger, smoking as he went.

‘No – he was only just getting scary when you arrived. Thank you – by the way.’

‘Scary,’ he said with a breath of a laugh. He glanced in her general direction, but not quite at her. ‘It’s alright. Best take you with us. Tommy’s gonna fucking kill Pol and Ada.’

‘Where are you going?’ she asked, frowning. But John smirked.

‘To the pub, princess.’

__________

The Garrison wasn’t as heaving as she expected it to be. But all eyes turned to look at who entered, almost looking away when they saw it was John, but then flitting back to the young girl at his side. He lead her past the bar, where a blonde woman watched on, to a little room off to the side.

Tommy, Arthur and Jeremiah sat inside, and a Tommy’s eyes widened in genuine surprise as John pushed Nancy in front of him. He sat up straighter, looking to his brother with accusing eyes.

‘Found this one on her own up one of the back streets, getting accosted by that inspector.’

John stepped around her then, pouring himself a glass and moving to take a seat, watching on as Tommy continued to glance between them.

‘What the fuck happened with Pol and Ada?’

‘I – well – I lost them, Tommy. It was no one’s fault, we were all just a little drunk,’ she said, voice cracking annoyingly. She still couldn’t lie to save her life. ‘I promise I don’t know nothing about him, I’ve never seen him before tonight. He was asking where I lived, who I was-’

‘Alright, alright,’ he said to stop her, doing little to calm her nerves. He glanced to John, who gave a light nod. Her story made sense, he believed her. ‘It’s alright, Nancy. I’ll take you home.’

‘Let the girl have a drink, Tom!’ Arthur argued drunkenly, refilling his glass and leaning over to hand it to her.

‘I don’t fucking think so, Arthur,’ he ground out, rising, getting his coat and shoving his hat on. He put a hand against the door, gesturing wildly for Nancy to go first. She bit her lip, looking up at him, all nerves. ‘Bloody hell. Come on.’

So, with Thomas Shelby’s hand at the back of her neck, she was led out of the pub, in front of everyone. All of a sudden, in a single moment, she wasn’t invisible any more.

At least the bruises had faded enough for powder to cover.

Tommy released her when they got to the street, but stayed at her side, silently surveying the road around them. ‘Did he say anything?’

She shook her head. ‘I think he was just trying to put the shits up me. Saw his chance and took it.’

Tommy sighed, shaking his head. ‘Fucking Ada.’

‘Ada didn’t do anything wrong. She’s been great,’ she promised, and Tommy gave a look of disbelief. ‘Polly too.’

‘Yeah, well, I disagree, come on,’ he said, and they crossed over to the house. He grit his teeth when the door opened, and the muffled voices became sharply silent. He closed the door behind them, then pointed at Nancy, then at the floor, giving her a firm look.

She watched his back, as he moved through the house and disappeared, leaving her alone in the dark. She crept after him, until she was close enough to hear.

‘Hiya, Tommy.’

‘Alright, girls. Nancy gone to bed?’

There was a silence that followed, then Polly spoke, with the first ounce of fear Nancy had heard from her: ‘No.’

Tommy hummed, rocking back on his heels, raising his brows. ‘Well, where is she?’

Nancy heard the distinct sound of Ada sighing and slumping herself into a chair. Polly’s voice actually hitched a little in worry, ‘Listen, Tommy. I don’t know how it happened-’

‘Well I do!’ he suddenly yelled. ‘Jesus fuck, Pol. I gave you one job – look after the girl. You asked if you could take her out, I said fucking yes. And you lose her!’

‘You know where she is?’ Polly asked, coming close to him, relief washing over her.

‘I’m here, Polly,’ Nancy announced herself, small and sweet as she came around the corner. Even Ada looked pleased to see her. ‘No harm done.’

Tommy spoke over her, not yelling, but loud, ‘John just walked her into the Garrison – picked her up after she was cornered by the fucking inspector. From now on, I don’t care what you’re doing, none of you are leaving this fucking house without either each other or one of the boys.’

He pointed to Polly. ‘You want to go to fucking church, you take someone.’

He raged to Ada. ‘You want to see one of your little friends, have them pick you up.’

He turned to Nancy, eyes wide with rage. ‘You want to go back to fucking work, you’ll be walked there and back. And if you don’t want one of us to do it, find someone you trust. Yeah?’

For once, the women of Watery Lane kept their mouths firmly shut. Polly was inspecting Nancy, Ada was glaring at Tommy, and Nancy looked to the ground until he finally muttered a dismissal under his breath and took back off out of the house.

‘Get the bloody gin, Ada,’ Polly gasped out, rushing to Nancy. ‘I’m so sorry, love. What happened?’

Nancy retold her story, and Ada scrunched her nose as she slid over a glass. ‘It’s a wonder they just took your word for it.’

Polly sent Ada a scowl.

‘Well! Hang on! She’s only just got here. How would John know she wasn’t meeting with him to give away information on the family?’ Ada asked, then patted Nancy’s hand, adding, ‘I mean, we know that isn’t the case. But they don’t.’

Polly snorted into her glass. ‘Only this morning you were damning her for being here at all!’

‘Well – that was before. Tommy’s shouted at us all now. We’re women together. He’s lucky I didn’t scratch his eyes out for it…only – well, it’s my fault, Nancy. I should have just let you come in. It wasn’t safe anyways.’

‘And I should have told you to shut your trap and let her,’ Polly added, then sighed. ‘All’s well that ends well, girls. We’ve survived the night.’ She rose a brow, tilting her head to Ada. ‘Now we’ve got another problem to solve.’

Ada glared, pushing back out of her seat and marching out of the room. But Polly was all smiles.

‘Don’t you worry, Nancy. He’ll have forgotten all about his silly rules by morning. Tommy doesn’t like being caught unawares – and this Inspector Campbell is unsettling him.’ Polly took a long sip of her drink, feigning normalcy, then looked up, asking, ‘He didn’t do – or say anything?’

Nancy shook her head. ‘No. I wasn’t comfortable, but who would be, with any man, alone on a dark, empty street?’

Polly lifted her glass to that, and Nancy clinked her own against it.

‘Next time we tell the boys we’re going for drinks, we actually will,’ she said with a wink.

__________

The bell dinged as Nancy stepped into the tailors, hearing Keith clattering about in the back. He grinned when he saw her. ‘Nancy! Thought you’d died a death, had one of Mr Shelby’s associates not stopped by yesterday to let me know you’d be coming back.’

Blinking in surprise, she didn’t miss the way his eyes lifted to the outside of the shop, as if searching for Tommy himself. ‘I know you’ve likely heard - about my new arrangements?’

‘Oh yes,’ he said with a dismissive wave, ‘Not a problem with me, Nancy, not a problem at all.’

Suddenly, she felt like it might be. ‘Keith…if you’d like me to quit, I can. I’ll find work elsewhere. I won’t tell Tommy.’

His eyes widened, head shaking, moving to her. ‘Oh no, Nancy. You’re a fine worker – very fine.’ He gave a nervous chuckle then. ‘What would I do without you minding the books?’

She smiled softly at him, giving his arm a gentle touch. ‘I’ll be back on Saturday?’

He nodded, smiling far too much. ‘Very good, Nancy. I’ll see you Saturday. Give my best to the Shelby’s.’

Outside, Polly could be seen giggling with the man at the fruit and veg stall, both holding onto her basket. All amused, Nancy approached, but when Polly spotted her she pulled away, moving to greet her with a roll of her eyes.

‘Sorted?’ she asked, and when Nancy nodded, she linked arms with her. ‘You’ve healed. Not all the way. But you aren’t the same broken little girl you were when Tommy dragged you out of that whore house and down to Watery. Are you?’

‘It’s only been a few days, Polly,’ she said, feeling a little bashful.

Polly was smiling at her, in her knowing way. ‘I’m glad you’re with us. It does well to have more girls around.’

‘Aunt Pol!’

‘Jesus,’ Polly groaned, then turned, pulling Nancy with her. ‘Look who I found!’

‘The princess!’ Teddy yelled, and Jamie laughed, rolling his eyes. The girl with them grinned up at her, a toothy grin. ‘This is my sister, Katie.’

‘Three of the four – you’ve nearly met the whole bunch,’ Polly said with amusement, then sharpened her gaze. ‘Why aren’t you in school?’

Jamie scrunched his nose, as if he’d never heard of the place, but Katie proudly announced, ‘Joanna’s gone every day this week!’

‘Joanna is a good girl who’ll live in a big house with loads of money when she’s older, while the rest of you starve,’ Polly informed them, and the children laughed loudly, Teddy doing so much as to clutch his stomach and fall to the floor in mock collapse. ‘Get up, you’ll be filthy.’

Nancy thought they already looked pretty filthy, but she still smiled.

‘Can we come to yours, Aunt Polly? Da is there.’

‘Did he leave you with Jenny?’ she asked, then leaned in to Nancy’s side, murmering, ‘John’s neighbour. Poor girl gets paid pennies to attempt to mind them. She wont last another week.’

Katie rolled her eyes. ‘Are you bringing us with you, or what?’

‘No – house is busy,’ Polly said firmly, bending down to them. ‘You toerags get back to Jenny’s house now, or I’ll be showing up at your door every morning to march the lot of you to the school house. Go. Now.’

‘But-’

Jamie caught Teddy’s collar, tugging him back, grinning as if butter wouldn’t melt. ‘Bye, Aunt Pol. Bye Nancy.’

‘Bye bye princess!’

‘Goodbye!’ she called back with a laugh and they turned back on their way. ‘Will they go where they are supposed to?’

‘Un-bloody-likely,’ Polly grumbled. ‘We get them to school a couple of days a week. Or a month.’

Nancy smiled, and chose to say nothing else. It wasn’t her business. None at all. Neither was it her business why the house was so busy, but she still was desperate to ask as they unbagged the shopping, hearing all the commotion from the shop.

Nancy put away the last of her bag, then glanced at the doors, seeing flashes of waist coats and white shirts. She could hear money being exchanged, coins clattering, notes shuffling.

Then, a thud, a scattering of coins, and a curse.

‘Bloody men,’ Polly muttered, starting to chop veg.

‘Do they need help?’ Nancy asked, moving towards the door, seeing John bending down, lifting handfuls of coin back up onto a table top. At the opposite end of the room was a man, head in his hands, a pen between his fingers.

John was muttering to himself, swearing and groaning, then saw the movement in the corner of his eye. ‘Don’t mind me, love. I’ve just got thousands of pound here slipped through the floorboards that needs recounting.’

Stepping forward in rush, cheeks flushing, she moved on her hands and knees, collecting scattered coins about the room while he finished off on the big pile.

‘John,’ Polly’s firm warning came, and Nancy glanced over her shoulder to where he was stood still by the table, eyes shifting away from her.

Oh good. She’ll have been a pretty sight, on her hands and knees crawling about.

Cheeks darker than ever, she rose, taking the handful of coins and placing them in his open palms.

Polly lowered the kitchen knife she’d waved at her nephew, then looked to the coins. ‘Need help?’

John sighed, picking up a missed one, and shook his head. ‘I’ll get on counting it again. Bloody idiot.’

‘I’ll help,’ Nancy spoke, before really thinking about it. In truth, she was restless. She couldn’t potter about the day like Polly. And she wasn’t allowed to know everything Polly knew, so she was often left alone in her room, or in the kitchen, while she snuck off to have secret conversations.

‘Oh, it’s alright, honestly,’ John attempted to brush her off, but Nancy was already there, hands on the money, spreading it out along the table top. He licked his lips, looking to Pol, who simply rose a brow, shrugging. ‘Alright then.’

Nancy had the distinct impression that John would rather be no where near her, actually. The way he was always turning away, blowing out his big breaths, and acting generally as if she didn’t exist. But perhaps she was being obsessive, because she’d only been at the Shelby’s a week, and she’d been in the same room as him around six times.

They worked in silence, John sometimes moving away to talk to someone, or answer questions. Nancy didn’t mind. She liked numbers. Always had.

‘Where’d you learn to count?’

Her fingers paused, keeping the number she was on in her mind. ‘School?’

John’s nose scrunched a little, but he nodded, still looking down. ‘You do the books and that, yeah? At the barbers?’

‘I do them at the tailors, or I will once I’m back Saturday. Kenny sends his over too though,’ she replied.

It was very distinct, the way that Mary and Joseph had known each other was not the same way that Nancy and John did. Mary and Joe were lovers, passionate, shame free. Nancy and John were awkward acquaintances forced into close quarters, who both had seen one another in their different personas without knowing they’d have to do this bit too.

‘The kids met you at the barbers, though?’ he asked, glancing up to her.

‘I quit that a bit ago,’ she said, shrugging. ‘Keith lets me stay in the back room and I still got paid doing both books, and a bit of sewing if he needed me.’

John nodded, more times that was entirely necessary, moving his stack of coins in a line with the others they’d been making. ‘It will all be here. But Tommy likes to check.’

‘Mhm,’ she replied, focused, lips twisted as she bit at the inside of her cheek, then releasing them to press together, running her tongue across them.

John kept his head down, but his eyes lifted, fixed on her face, noticing how she was healing well. He could only just catch the shadows of bruises under the powder because he knew where they were, and the scab on her lip was down to nothing. He felt his own mouth copy her movements, then whipped his eyes back down when her head lifted to look at how many more they had to do.

‘Ere, you help her with this, I’ll move onto the notes. Haven’t counted em yet,’ John said, moving away without another glance. Another man joined her, not really looking up, but she smiled at him anyways.

Nancy snuck a look as John turned sideways to her, going through the papers and stacking them neatly. Blowing out a long breath, she cracked on with her new mate.

Tommy moved into the room, greeting the men with in, all who were working away. He checked in with the bookie, glancing over his shoulder at the numbers, then looked out for John, moving towards him when he found him.

But his eyes caught on Nancy, who’d forced the man working with her into a conversation and was giggling as her hands continued their work. Her fingers were blackened from the dirty coins, in a way that stuck with him.

Sighing, closing his eyes a minute, he continued to John, who gave a grin. ‘All for Monaghan’s Boy, Tom.’

‘Good work, Johnny,’ he said, and meant it too, but then leaned in, hand tight on his brothers shoulder. ‘What’s she doing?’

John looked down, sniffing in a way to act casual. ‘Oh, counting. We dropped some, had to restart.’

‘I wanted her hands clean, John,’ Tommy murmured into his ear, staring at him darkly, though his brother only stared forward at the table. ‘I’ve not done any of it right otherwise.’

John opened his mouth to reply, but Tommy moved away, over to Nancy, patting the man working with her on the back.

‘Oh, hi, Tommy.’

‘Good afternoon, Nancy. I wasn’t aware I’d hired you.’

Smirking, though his expression was heavy, she noted the man moving away, and replied lightly, ‘Just counting, Tommy. I don’t know where any of this money came from, where it’s going, or what it’s even for. I’m just counting it. In fact, I’m not even counting it, I’m just making stacks of ten for someone else to count.’

Polly snorted from the kitchen, and when Nancy glanced up, Tommy had the tiniest smirk tugging at the very minute corner of his mouth.

‘I’ve been to see Keith,’ she continued on, before he could reply. She kept working as she did. ‘He said someone had already been in to tell him I’d be back.’

‘I knew he’d have heard about your change of accommodations – didn’t want you losing your job while you took the days off.’

‘Very thoughtful of you – thank you,’ she said, with a tease in her voice, but she was sincere. ‘I’m going back Saturday. Is that alright with you?’

Tommy squinted his eyes at her a little, tilting his head, hands on his hips, waiting for her to look up. She waited until the very last stack, then looked to him with a sweet grin, that was all defiance.

‘There you go. I’ve paid my way today – I’ll go give Polly a hand with the cooking now.’

Polly was at the kitchen door, knuckles to her lips to hide her smirk. But those eyes hid nothing from Tommy Shelby, who gave her a tired look.

‘Couldn’t have let her be sweet, could you, Pol?’

‘She’s a sweetheart, Tom. Too sweet for you, is the problem,’ she said with a chuckle, moving back through to the kitchen and giving Nancy a wink. ‘You’re a marvel.’

‘He can shout at me all he likes – I’ve been shouted at plenty.’

Polly grinned at that, hip bumping the girl and handing her the knife. ‘You chop. I’ve a word to have with Thomas about our little friend – and her little friend – and her soon to be dead friend.’

Nancy didn’t reply to that, and simply started chopping the veg, waiting for the slam of the front door, that came shortly after.

Chapter Text

‘Says who? Tommy and his parliament of one?’

Nancy sat up in bed, squinting at the window, but then realising that the noise wasn’t coming from the street.

‘I ran this business for five years!’

Tommy’s voice could be heard, but she couldn’t make out his reply. There were a few words shared, then footsteps. She didn’t dare move, didn’t dare to listen, truly. But Polly’s voice carried.

‘Ada wants you to give this letter to Freddie. She wants him to know she’s having his baby. He deserves a chance to do the right thing. I say we give them the chance.’

‘For a woman whose had a hard life with men, you still have some romance left, eh? What do you think Freddie sees in our Ada?

‘That’s Freddie’s business.’

‘No,’ Tommy’s reply came firm. ‘No – I’ll tell you what he sees. He sees machine guns and rifles and ammunition and some glorious revolution.’

‘What is it you really don’t like about Freddie?’

‘She’ll have no life with a man on the run. If you can’t see that – you can’t see much.’

There was a clatter, then Polly yelled, ‘Damn then for what they did to you in France! You can’t control us all, Thomas! Now you’ve got that little girl locked upstairs like a great shining beacon marking you a good man. As long as you hold us all in your hands, we’re alright, are we? In Thomas fucking Shelby’s hands!’

‘Tell Ada that Freddie went to America. Or Russia. It would do no good to have her bring a baby into the world alone!’

Footsteps, clomping and rapid.

‘Pol – listen! The truth is you would have hit me with that thing if it weren’t for the fact that you know I’m right!’ There was a pause, then a few steps. ‘And don’t fucking talk to me about her – she’s my business – not yours!’

Nancy wanted to leave. She would leave. She’d leave first thing in the morning. Not look back. She’d steal from him if she had to.

Her heart was so loud in her ears that she barely heard the footsteps on the stairs, but she reacted in time for the door opening, Tommy’s bright blue eyes gazing down at her. He barely reacted to her being awake, just a mild look of acceptance.

He dropped a box of cigarettes on the bedside table. ‘No more asking strangers for anything.’

‘Tommy-’

‘You don’t know us Nancy. Tonight hasn’t been something out of the ordinary. No need to pander.’

Then the door was closed, and he was gone.

He could have given her the pack any time. He could have even left them downstairs. But he’d wanted to check on her. To lay eyes on the one thing he could keep right.

__________

So, Nancy slept, she helped make dinner, she stayed out of the shop, and she sat with Ada, pretending she wasn’t pregnant, talking only about minimal things. On Saturday morning, she was ridiculously excited at the idea of a walk out of the new ordinary.

She’d set off early, take it slow, and when it was her lunch break she’d get something extra delicious for her and Keith. She’d maybe even drop Kenny by something.

She could not live her life in the home-come-illegal-betting-business on Watery Lane, under the gaze of Thomas Shelby. His trophy of good will.

‘Work this morning?’ Ada asked, stirring her tea. ‘I’ve never much been a fan of the idea of it.’

Polly smirked, and Arthur chuckled.

It was both nice and torturous, never knowing who you’d be coming down the stairs to.

‘Morning,’ she spoke as she passed Arthur, who nodded his head to her. She was stirring her tea, when the back door slammed open, and four small bodies rushed in.

‘Fucking hell!’

‘Princess Nancy!’ Teddy yelled, ignoring Arthur who was glaring sharply at him, wrapping his arms right around her, climbing as he did until she picked him up. ‘What happened to your beautiful face, it's still not right!’

She fixed herself, grinning wide. ‘I was captured by a terrible king - thrown in his dungeons!’ she looked at Polly with a chuckle, ‘And I haven’t put make up on yet.’

Teddy looked horrified, and Jamie chuckled, moving to stand next to Arthur. There was a girl in the room Nancy did not know, but she listened intently.

‘Did someone save you?’

‘A most noble knight,’ she said wistfully, smiling as he softly touched her faded bruises. ‘On a black stallion.’

Jamie was chuckling. ‘Was it Uncle Tom?’

‘Aye, but your da helped,’ John said as he came into the house, flicking his cigarette backwards out the door.

‘This is Joanna,’ Katie said, showing off her big sister. ‘The one who was at school.’

‘The only one that’ll go,’ John said, moving around them to give Polly a cocky peck on the cheek. ‘Little toerags.’

Nancy smiled, not ready to look at him yet, and looked to the children instead. ‘You know, school is how I learned how to do all my reading and writing. And made all my friends.’

Jamie scrunched his nose. ‘I’ve loadsa friends.’

‘Can you read?’ Nancy asked him, teasing, brows raised. When he shook his head she said, ‘Well then. How are you ever going to help with all books if you can’t do numbers?’

‘Daddy’ll teach us!’ Katie decided with triumph.

‘You’ll teach us, won’t you, Nancy?’ Teddy offered, twirling some of her hair around his fingers. His big blue eyes blinked at her.

She squinted at him, leaning back against the counter. ‘What about if I walk you to school on Monday? And make you a nice sandwich for your lunch?’

Teddy was half convinced, but Jamie was less impressed. ‘What about walking us home too?’

She rolled her lips together, thinking for a moment. ‘If your daddy says it’s alright – and you promise to listen while you’re there, and mind your teachers?’

She looked at each child in turn, who nodded obediently. Then, her eyes lifted to Polly, who was smiling as he stirred two cups of tea. Then finally, she looked to John, giving a hopeful smile.

‘Da won’t mind!’

‘Of course he wont!’

‘Alright, alright,’ John said, rolling his eyes in mock defeat. ‘I suppose I’ll let you go.’

The children cheered, making the brothers burst into laughter. Nancy grinned at Teddy, who pressed a kiss to her yellow bruised cheek before wriggling down. They scattered out of the room then, back out to the street to play.

‘You can change your mind, I know you might not want me taking them, I understand.’

‘Why wouldn’t I?’ John asked, staring her straight in the eye, his lips pulled into a small smile, eyes light.

‘You’re not a whore anymore, Nance,’ Ada said quite bluntly, and Polly and Arthur made noises of exhaustion and disgust.

‘With that, I’m going to work,’ Nancy announced, attempting to slip from the room, but Arthur stopped her with:

‘Whoa, whoa! You need your escort.’

‘I really don’t,’ she said, holding her hands up in defence. Arthur was still half cut from the night before, an escort he was not. She looked to Polly, desperate and begging.

‘She’ll be right alone, Arthur. It’s a Saturday morning. Anyone nefarious is sleeping off their highs and their hangovers – or they’re in this kitchen taking up space and good air. Off you go, Nancy.’

She grinned to Polly, happy for the distraction, slipping out the door, catching John’s eye, who smirked at her in admiration as she disappeared.

She’d walked to work a thousand times before alone, and if anything, living with the Shelby’s should make her safer, not worse off. Though, she was visible now, she supposed.

She felt quite the confident woman, until a hand wrapped around her wrist and she was tugged down a side street. ‘Fucking hell, Ethan! Are you mental?’

‘Sorry, Nancy, I am,’ he rushed out, releasing her. ‘I thought you’d seen me.’

She widened her eyes at him, shaking her head and taking a step away. ‘I’m on my way to work. I have to go.’

‘I’ll walk you,’ he said, stepping out with her, glancing up and down the street. ‘You look nice.’

‘Thank you, Ethan,’ she sighed tiredly. It would be nice to be alone. Just for a moment. Truly alone. ‘How are you?’

‘Oh, grand, Nancy. All the better for finally seeing you.’

She gave a tight smile, stopping and turning to face him. ‘I don’t want to be rude to you, but I don’t do the work that I did before. You’ve been lovely – overly so – but I’m not interested in picking up any extra cash, if you understand.’

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he cringed a little. She could see his age then. Older than her. Probably closer to Tommy’s age. Maybe younger.

‘Not at all like that, Nancy. But you know – I’d pay more now.’

She sneered, turning and beginning to walk, but he caught up.

‘Sorry – sorry. Can I start again? I want to walk you to work. Normal walking. No talk of money, or beds, or anything like that. Just a walk.’

‘You can’t keep showing up,’ she said, looking around them, hoping to scare him off. ‘I’m not always on my own and they don’t really stop to ask questions when I look like I’m being harassed.’

‘I’m not harassing you,’ he said softly, with a smile, as if she were stupid. ‘I just want to see a pretty girl get to work safe and sound. Alright?’

Pressing her lips together, she turned and continued walking. He was so tiresome it was usually easier not to argue.

‘So, you’re living with the Shelby’s?’

‘I don’t really want to talk about it, Ethan. You know how it is. How’s work?’

He started twittering on. He was sweet really. She was just impatient and uninterested. She had bigger things happening, bigger things to think about. And right then, in the distance, bigger fish to fry.

‘You’ve got to go, Ethan.’

‘What? We’re nearly there.’

Nancy rushed ahead. ‘I’ll see you another time!’

‘Oh, okay!’ he said with a grin, looking ahead to see the distinct shape of a cap outside the tailors in the distance, a gloved hand raising a cigarette. Wincing a little, he turned, scurrying off in the opposite direction.

‘I told you to have someone walk you,’ Tommy said tiredly, but looking past her.

‘I did. Then I saw you were here and told him he could go,’ she said, rolling her eyes, a bit breathless from marching up to him. ‘Are you here checking that I followed instruction? Because I don’t rightly remember signing anything that gave control of my entire life over to you, Thomas Shelby.’

He gave a harsh breath of laughter, but his face was straight. ‘You’re a little girl in a big world, Nancy. Just trying to keep you safe.’

She rose her brows. She wasn’t really mad at Tommy. She was mad that her past was following her. Mad at Ada calling her a whore, even though she didn’t really. Mad because she still had bruises. Mad because she couldn’t sleep. Mad because the only person in the world right then that brought her any comfort was Thomas Shelby, and she was terrified of displeasing him.

‘Sorry, I’m tired,’ she said, before she pushed the door open, looking back at him with a furrowed, frowning brow. ‘I finish at four – if there is no one here for me, I’ll walk myself.’

He hummed, then gave her a gentle look. ‘Walk yourself. Just come straight home. Yeah?’

The word ‘home’ had made her heart twist, so she only nodded, pushing in, but he pushed in after her.

‘Morning, Keith.’

‘Ah, Mr Shelby, sir! Good morning!’

‘I need a suit for the races, Keith. Something nice,’ he said, looking around the room at the rolls of fabrics, eyes falling on Nancy, giving her a playful glint. ‘Do you have anything for me?’

As Keith flapped around the room, already sweating, Nancy gave Tommy a scolding look, but her lips gave her away. While he continued humming and grunting in response to Keith’s words, he stepped forward, holding her coat for her to step out of, then hung it for her, without it even being a question that it was something he’d never done before. He didn’t even breathe in her direction.

He continued teasing Keith, making him flap, as he took off his own coat and his cap, doing much the same as he had at the barbers that day, folding the cap and placing it in his pocket. It had blades in it, actually. Nancy had thought it was all a lie, something people made up out of boredom. But she’d seen them.

‘Nancy, do you remember a month ago, we had – oh – is was – where was it from?’

She sent Tommy a glare. ‘I’ll check the back.’

She didn’t, in fact. She sat at the table behind the sewing machine, dragging the books out around her and taking a look at Keith’s scribbles he’d made while she was gone. A lot of work – but a nice amount, that she could do at a nice pace.

She lifted her head when the door opened, and Tommy stepped in, in a suit all pinned and marked, giving a playful grin, which dropped when he saw the room. ‘Is this supposed to be an office?’

‘You’d know all about offices, wouldn’t you? Holes in walls and nailed up curtains.’

He actually laughed, then stretched his arms out to his sides. ‘What do you think?’

‘Do you often need a second opinion?’

‘What did Polly put in your tea this morning?’ he asked with a frown, looking at the mirror to the left of him, one that had a big crack up one side. He fiddled with the collar.

‘I think it will be smart for the races, Tommy,’ she said, looking back down to the book, taking a bite of a biscuit. Keith kept a tin in there for her, and after having no time for breakfast, she was grateful for it even more so than usual.

She looked young to him then, her feet, in stocking but shoes removed, propped up on the table’s cross bar, the big book across her knees, chewing as she wrote. He watched her a moment, feeling a sense of peace.

She took another bite glancing up to him under her lashes, shaking her head a little, waving the biscuit in the air. ‘Have I done something wrong?’

He looked from her feet, to her knees, to the biscuit, to her face, and he shook his head, taking a sharp breath as he span back to the mirror. ‘Yes, this will do nicely.’

‘It’s nice,’ she agreed, giving him a small smile when he glanced at her again, though his expression had flattened to his usual blank look. She knew it wasn’t because he was unfeeling. It was just his face. Just Tommy.

‘See you later,’ he muttered, slipping out the door without looking back.

Widening her eyes to herself, she sighed, picking another biscuit from the box and eating happily as she wrote.

When it went half twelve, she moved through to the front of the shop, shoes back on, slipping into her coat. Keith was with a customer, so he gave her a nod and smile as she slipped out the door.

She didn’t have far to go, just the market stalls at back. Pies, was what she had in mind.

‘Morning, Nancy,’ the man at the counter spoke. He’d spoken to her before, many Saturdays gone by, but never with the open grin he wore, never calling her by her name.

‘Good morning,’ she replied still, giving a small smile. ‘Can I have three of the meat and potato, please?’

‘Of course you can, love,’ he said, again, kinder than usual. He fixed up her order, then, in a paper napkin, picked her up a biscuit and handed it over. ‘On the house – a welcome back to work. Haven’t seen you a few weeks round Keith’s.’

She was already holding the pies, and started at him for a long while. His smiling face, the out held biscuit. She stared so long that the smile started to slip. Then she realised she was being rude, so she took the gift and reached for her purse.

‘No – no, the pies too,’ he said, smiling that wide smile. ‘You have a good day. Give Tom me best.’

Teeth squeezing together a little, she nodded. ‘Thank you.’

He moved onto his next customer, and Nancy walked slowly away, looking down at the sweet treat, and despite everything, taking a bite.

She ate it as she walked down to the barbers, delivering Kenny his pie. There were a few lads in, so she didn’t stay for a chat. Instead she took her biscuit along back up the street, realising that she hadn’t eaten anything decent all day.

Glancing ahead of her, she smiled at a passer-by, stepping out of their way, then looking up again, to see the inspector, far on the other side of the road, but gazing at her. He tipped his hat.

The walk back to Keith was swift, and she stood at the window, behind the curtain, finishing off her biscuit, watching the inspector walk past, inspecting all the buildings, his eyes brushing over the shop front.

‘Good god, Nancy! You gave me a fright. What are you doing?’

Blinking at Keith, she leapt out from her hiding space and handed him his lunch. ‘Brought you a pie, sorry.’

Keith shook his head, but let her go on her way, not hearing a peep from her for the rest of the day.

___________

‘Nancy-girl,’ Arthur greeted in his rough rumble.

‘I’ve got to talk to Tommy,’ she said in a breath, not realising how fast she’d walked home in the dimming winter evening until she’d stopped.

‘He’s upstairs,’ he said with a frown. ‘You alright, my love?’

She glanced behind him, through the doors to the betting shop, where John had looked up to see her. ‘Yeah, yeah. I just needed to see him about something. Nothing important.’

‘If it’s not important then I wouldn’t bother him,’ Arthur advised, scratching at his stubble. ‘How was work, ey? That Keith makes a fine suit.’

So, she allowed herself to get swept up in conversation with Arthur, who, she quickly realised, was drinking again, which is why he was so overly chatty.

Even when Tommy came down, she didn’t speak up, and he barely glanced at her.

But that night, it rained. Heavy.

She heard the foot steps on the stairs, thundering, then the moment of hesitation outside of her door. Then it opened.

She was sat below the window, practically invisible to him in the shadows, and she saw his haunted expression when he found her bed empty. He looked awful, worse than she’d ever seen him. His hands ran through his hair, looking towards the rain, then noticing the shape of her. He squinted.

‘Nancy?’

‘Yeah,’ she whispered back and he sighed in relief.

‘Let’s go downstairs. Come on.’

He left her then, leaving the door open, knowing she’d follow. And she did, slipping a dressing gown over her arms but staying barefoot. The cold was keeping her awake, how she liked it.

Tommy was pouring two drinks, and turned as she arrived in the room, gesturing for her to take a seat on the sofa. He took the arm chair. He was gazing at the last embers in the fire, his most haunted look on his face.

She was afraid of him, then. In a small way, but it was there. Because he looked like a dead man.

She could still hear the rain, but not as loud. She sipped her drink, the motion making him look to her.

‘I had to shoot my horse tonight, Nancy.’

‘I’m sorry, Tommy,’ she whispered back, frowning in her way that let you know she was aching for you.

He hummed, looking back to the fire. ‘I don’t like the rain. Then I had to shoot the horse. Then I went to see a girl.’

Nancy sat completely still, wondering where his story was leading. He scratched across his eyebrow with his thumb, as if trying to flatten the creases in the centre of his brow.

‘But I was talking to her – looking at her – thinking about the rain. Then I thought about your brother. He hated the rain too.’

Stupidly, her eyes glassed over. He didn’t react.

‘I bet he turned on you on the stormy nights.’

‘Please don’t, Tommy.’

‘I bet you hate the rain too.’ He flinched a little when she lifted a hand to wipe at her tears. ‘Don’t cry.’

Nancy lifted her hands to her sides, sending him a glare. ‘I can’t help it.’

‘I didn’t come to you to make you worse,’ he said, shaking his head, finishing his drink. ‘I thought I was going to make you feel better. But it turns out I’m not the best company tonight.’

‘Oh…I was alright,’ she said, smiling again. ‘I got a bit frightened when you came to the door. I forgot where I was for a second.’

She said it in a light hearted way, but Tommy’s eyes sharpened. ‘You don’t need to be afraid of anything in this house, Nancy. Especially not the rain.’

‘You’re not afraid of it then?’ she asked, leaning a little to see his face properly in the light.

‘No, not the rain. Just what it puts in my head sometimes.’

She allowed him his confession without pressing, simply finishing off her drink, trying not to grimace.

‘I asked the barmaid to the races,’ he said, glancing at her. ‘What do you think about that?’

‘Well, is she nice? I’ve only seen her the once.’

‘I don’t know if I can trust her.’

Nancy lifted her legs up beneath her, leaning on the arm rest of the sofa. ‘Well, do you not trust her because you don’t trust anyone, or because you think there is something off about her? Can you be sure you aren’t being too forgiving of a pretty face? Or is it the pretty face that makes you think she’s bad news?’

Tommy was staring at her, in a way that looked almost hateful. ‘How can you say that, with a face like yours, ey?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Pretty has never got me much, Tommy. On my knees, maybe.’

‘You didn’t do that out of beauty, Nancy. That was the ugly part of the world trying to claw it’s way into you. And you didn’t let it.’

‘Maybe my face warded it off,’ she said with a light laugh. How she wished him to be light. His presence in the moment was stifling.

‘Maybe it did,’ he said, cigarette between his lips, leaning forward to light it. ‘I think it was your heart too, though.’

‘Tommy,’ she sighed, looking away and back again. ‘It was you who didn’t let it. I don’t know where I’d be without you.’

He gave a huff of a laugh. ‘Nor I you,’ he mumbled, looking her over, meaning it.

She smiled at him, in her lovely way, and he gazed at her, her mouth, her sparkling eyes, and he gave a small hum in response.

He looked to her like he desperately wanted to speak, but it was as if someone had wired his jaws shut at the sides.

‘You don’t have to hold back from me, Tommy. You can tell me anything, ask me anything. You can trust me.’

A broad smile came to his lips, and he tipped his head back to the ceiling, letting out a deep laugh. ‘Oh god, that is true. Why do you trust me back though? I’ve wronged everyone I’ve ever known. Pol will have told you plenty. I can’t even fully trust her, because she’ll do what she thinks is best, despite what I say. You're different.’

Nancy shrugged. ‘You’ve never wronged me, Tommy. I just… I feel like you’re the one that looks after everyone. Who always has a plan. And you work best alone. I’m not for the planning.’

‘What are you for then, ey, Nancy? Why do you think god dropped you in my lap?’

‘God didn’t, Tommy. You came to hell and walked me home.’ She leaned forward a bit, eyes pleading him to hear her through all the booze, all the torment. ‘You think you’re the devil, but you’re an angel to me.’

He looked grave at that. ‘You’re too young.’

An air of challenge over took her. ‘For what?’

He gazed at her face. In that empty way. He’d switched off.

‘Too young for what, Tommy?’

He didn’t speak, only rose to pour himself another drink. There was a silence while the glass clinked and he took a mouthful. Then he turned back to her. ‘I’ll give the barmaid a chance.’

Nancy nodded, still not turning away from his piercing gaze. He was a predator then, hunting for any reaction from her that might give him guidance. ‘Good.’

He let her rise, her mouth full of unspoken things, and get to the bottom of the stairs before he said her name.

And she turned around, and as if he’d asked a question, she said, ‘Just because you think I’m so good and so innocent doesn’t mean I’m some oracle of good faith, Tommy. I don’t know this world any better than you do, in fact, a lot less. I hope whatever you’re doing works in your favour. And I hope the barmaid is whoever you want her to be, good or not.’

‘Alright, Nancy.’

Wanting to scream, she turned away and marched back upstairs. She knew why Ada was the way that she was, if anything.

It was still raining, but she was too harassed to hear it.

Chapter Text

Monday came, and Nancy woke early. Before anyone else.

She felt like an intruder, walking about the Shelby home while no one else was awake. But she forced herself to light the stove and make a pot of tea. She had promised to take the kids to school but didn’t even know where John lived. And at the thought of her knocking on his front door she squirmed, sipping her tea and gazing out the window to the rising sun.

There was a knock on the back door and she frowned. Was she supposed to answer doors?

She hesitated, gazing at it a whiles, then another knock came.

‘It’s for you!’ Polly yelled down from her bedroom, the creak of the floor telling Nancy she’d gotten up to look out the window. ‘Good bloody luck!’

Nancy opened the door then, revealing four dressed kids, hair done well, on the boy’s part anyways. John Shelby stood behind them, smiling in his slanted way, holding up a comb and some hair ribbons.

‘Couldn’t fix the girls hair, could you?’ he asked, ushering them into the kitchen, the kids giving their own versions of greetings as they passed. John came face to face with her in the doorway, slowing his side step to add, ‘I’ll get Finn up.’

Nancy’s mouth opened to reply, but she couldn’t think of anything to say, only looked back to the table full of kids, Teddy still eating a slice of bread with jam on it that he’d clearly brought from home.

Joanna was fairly serious, but had her fathers light eyes, thick lashes. ‘How would you like your hair?’

‘However you’re best at,’ she decided, sitting neatly at the table with her hands clasped upon it as Nancy began to comb her hair.

The boys were playing a loud game that involved slapping each others hands, Katie had taken the last of Teddy’s slice of bread for himself and was singing between bites, and there was ruckus from upstairs as John was seemingly forcing his little brother from his bed and into some clothes.

‘You’re a fucking dick!’

‘I’ll cut your tongue out, you little shit – who are you talking to like that?’

‘Stop fucking swearing!’ Polly yelled and some muffled giggles could be heard. Then pattering on the stairs.

John grinned. ‘You’re beautiful, Joey!’

Joanna rolled her eyes, but was quite obviously pleased with her father’s praise as Nancy tied the final bow into her hair. She stepped sideways then, to Katie.

‘Same as your sister?’ she asked, and the little girl nodded enthusiastically. Chuckling, Nancy looked to Teddy and told him, ‘You need your face washed.’

He nodded obediently, jumping up from his seat and reaching for the cloth on the sink. Nancy would have argued that particular cleaning method, but they were obviously taking baby steps.

‘Wouldn’t wash your face when I told you to this morning,’ John said to Teddy, raising his brows. But his eyes gaze him away. He was all amused. He had his hands on his hips, surveying the room, then looking to Nancy. ‘Wanted to get em to you early, in case you didn’t know where the house was.’

‘I don’t,’ she confirmed, focusing on Katie’s bow, getting it just right. ‘There you go.’

‘Aw, beautiful, both of you – aren’t they, Finn?’ John said to his brother who was fixing his hair in the mirror that hung just outside the kitchen doorway.

‘Oh aye,’ came his flat response.

Nancy ushered Jamie out of his chair. ‘Come on then, while I’ve got you all, let’s go.’

‘You’re sure?’ John asked, but she still wouldn’t meet his eye.

‘Couldn’t very well say no to them, could I? Children should be in school – easiest place to keep an eye on them.’

He chuckled at that, touching the side of the tea pot, delighted that it was hot. He was about to turn to say bye to the kids, but they were out the door, crowding Nancy, even Finn walking close by with the others.

Polly would come down not long after, wrapped in her dressing gown, brow raised at him.

‘Can’t bloody believe it.’

‘She’s new – the excitement will wear off, I’m sure,’ Polly said, chin in the air a little, obviously affronted that she’d never managed to get all the kids in on the same day. She smiled softly though. ‘She’s a good girl, is Nancy.’

‘She’s a sweetheart,’ John agreed shortly, as if he weren’t at all that interested. ‘Well,’ he spoke, rising, ‘That’s me free for the day. Don’t tell Tommy.’

‘She doesn’t have to, Johnny,’ Tommy’s voice came from the other room, and he appeared in the doorway, looking around. ‘She’s took them then?’

‘Oh yes,’ Polly said with a grin as she poured herself a cuppa. ‘The streets will be a quieter place without the Shelby boys running riot and little Katie screaming bloody murder.’

John rolled his eyes, and Tommy ignored them both, looking out the back door, lighting up a cigarette.

‘It’s cold, Tom,’ Polly said with a sigh, but let him carry on. ‘She’s lived alone long enough, I should think she can survive a walk to and from the school yard.’

But still, he stood and awaited her, waiting to see how she’d be to him after their discussion.

‘Morning, Nancy,’ Tommy greeted as she came into view.

She smiled, of course, as she always did. ‘Morning, Tommy.’

John looked up, expecting at least one child to be attached to her, or some sign of trauma in her eye, but she simply dipped around Tommy and into the room, taking off her jacket and moving to hang it up.

‘They didn’t cause any fuss?’ Polly asked.

‘Finn wasn’t keen, but he was very gentlemanly,’ she said with a small smirk, tucking her hair behind her ears. ‘The rest went without bother. Joanna held Katie’s hand, it was sweet.’

John’s brows were in his hair line. ‘Well, fuck me.’

‘John!’ Polly scolded.

Raising hands in defence, he shook his head. ‘Just can’t believe they went. You’ll pick them up, wont you? Like you said?’

Nancy shrugged. ‘I haven’t got anything else to do.’

Tommy looking to Polly, who shrugged too. Then he looked to Nancy, in his severe way. ‘Just today. Not every day, alright?’

She nodded, refilling her tea cup, and glancing up to John, who was smoking, watching her carefully. She felt pressured to speak, so she said, ‘I’ll take them a couple of days a week, if you like?’

He nodded. ‘If you want to, like?’

She smiled, nodding.

And thus began her new routine.

For all that week with the Shelby’s, the children would arrive at the door, now without their father, and she’d do the girls hair, wipe all their faces and take them to school. They’d shown up at various times in the mornings, not always great timing, but they came every day never the less.

Polly announced one morning, when she’d gotten back from taking the kids to school, that they were going shopping. ‘Tommy’s paying.’

Nancy realised her argument of no funding wouldn’t work with Pol and put her coat back on.

They arrived back from their day of shopping a little drunk, and little giggly, slinking in the back door like thieves. The betting shop was open and loud, but it was all background noise by now.

‘Let’s cut that hair of yours again, then you’ll be all brand new,’ Polly decided, taking out a pair of scissors and moving to untie Nancy’s hair. Polly hummed as she ran her fingers through it, smiling content to herself. ‘It’s nice having another girl around.’

‘What the bloody hell are you doing?’ Arthur asked, marching in and looking through the cupboards. ‘Where’s the fucking gin?’

‘Nancy needs a haircut,’ Polly said, waving a hand dismissively. ‘Top cupboard.’

Arthur found it, turning, taking a drag of his cigarette and gesturing to them with it, a smirk on his lips. ‘Best get it done fast before Johnny comes back here – poor lad’ll be heart broken.’

Nancy snapped her head to look at him, only seeing his mischievous smirk as Polly tsked at him. He sent Nancy a wink before leaving the room. Then Polly was setting her head forward, hands on her scalp, directing her.

‘Only a trim,’ Polly said with a chuckle.

Nancy giggled too, taking the offered cigarette, half smoked already by Polly. They’d become quick companions, girls against the world. Ada could have been the same, but she wasn’t sweet like Nancy, she was brash enough to argue Polly. Nancy just chuckled and agreed, usually. That suited Polly quite well. And she wasn’t afraid to stick up to Tommy, which made her a Shelby woman in spirit even without the name, so they were family.

‘What did Arthur mean, Pol?’

Polly rolled her eyes, snipping at her hair. ‘They’ve been teasing him, for saying he likes your hair. He told them that’s why Teddy thinks you’re a princess. He was drunk. Stupid git.’

‘Oh.’

Polly didn’t say any more on the subject, and a little later, when John came into the kitchen, glancing sideways at Nancy while he looked for a few extra glasses, she only said, ‘Doesn’t Nance look better with her hair down?’

John said, ‘I don’t know.’

Which felt like a punch right to the ribs.

___________

Nancy had been unsuccessful in getting Finn into school one day, sighing a little at him, but nodding when he asked, ‘Can I just come back with you, Nance?’

He’d looked so forlorn that she agreed, wrapping her arms around herself as they walked. ‘I’m not at work today, so I’ll be helping Polly. You could go to the markets for us?’

Finn nodded, hands in his pockets, all serious like his Uncle Tom. She smiled at him. There was a little boy somewhere under all that grown up behaviour.

‘Nancy!’

Finn frowned at her as she sighed, looking up and forcing a smile on her face. He immediately glared at the man walking towards them, the smarmy smile on his face and the way he looked her over.

‘Morning, Ethan.’

‘That’s a pretty new coat,’ he said, sneering a little. She frowned at him.

‘Thank you,’ she said tightly, then set a hand on Finn’s shoulders. ‘We’ve got to get home, nice to see you.’

But as they walked passed, Finn glaring openly, Ethan laughed a little, and it was bitter. ‘Wouldn’t go out with me because you’ve gone private with the Shelby’s, ey? Apparently they pay you a pretty penny for private service. Live in and the lot.’

She clutched Finn tighter, walking faster.

‘Do they have you all at once, or one at a time?’

‘Don’t, Finn,’ she said, clutching him as he tried to turn. ‘He won’t follow us, he’s all talk.’

‘He’s talking about my family!’

‘No, no he’s not. He’s talking about me,’ she urged, pulling him around the corner, glancing back to see no sign of Ethan. She bent down, gripping Finn’s arms. ‘You can’t tell Tommy, Finn.’

Finn grimaced.

‘You can’t, Finn. He’ll not let me out anywhere. He’ll stop me taking the kids to school, from working. Okay? You can’t tell him. Please?’

‘I can’t tell him a lie, Nancy,’ he said, starting to look upset.

Nancy put a hand to his cheek, desperately begging, ‘Then just don’t say anything at all, okay? Okay?’

Finn clenched his jaw, but gave a nod. ‘If he asks me though I’ll tell him.’

Taking a shaky breath, she nodded. ‘Alright. Fairs fair. Now come on, they’ll be wondering where I am.’

They walked back to the house, a little faster than usual, Polly giving Finn a sharp look, until she saw the expression on his face. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ he grumbled, marching passed her and through the house.

Polly looked to Nancy, who gave a timid little smile. ‘He didn’t fancy it today.’

‘He’s older than the rest, harder to make him go along with changes,’ she said, but then was pouring her a tea. There was an air about her, like there was something lingering in the room, so Nancy asked. Hands over her eyes, Polly turned, blowing out a long breath before looking up and admitting, ‘I’m doing something today, I’m gonna need you to cook, alright?’

Bright as always, she smiled, nodding. ‘Finn said he’d go the markets for me.’

Polly nodded. ‘He’s a good lad,’ she said, eyes trailing slowly away and then back in a flash. ‘I’m giving money to Freddie and Ada to try and get them out of the country.’

Nancy was well aware that this was a confession, something that Polly had been toiling over, by the way it tumbled from her lips. ‘Okay.’

‘I hope to bloody god that they take it,’ she said, lighting a cigarette, her shoulders relaxing. ‘I feel all better now. I can see why Tommy likes you.’ Then her expression wasn’t totally kind, it was resentful. ‘Nancy, who is all sweet smiles and yeses. You’re a secret keeper. Guilt carrier.’

‘I just live here, Pol. I’m not doing anything special,’ she said softly and Polly’s eyes stuck to her.

‘No, you are.’ Then she smiled. ‘You trust everyone in this family with your whole heart, when we can’t even trust each other.’

‘I haven’t done anything wrong to any of you, so there is no reason to think you’d do anything wrong to me,’ she reasoned, and Polly gave a bitter laugh.

‘You’ve much of the world to see, Nancy Owen.’

‘Can’t see it from Small Heath,’ she said with a light grin, which Polly returned, then kissed her cheek, and was back upstairs getting dressed.

There was a basket of washing on the floor by the door to the wash room and, without much else to do, Nancy set to work. Boiling, soaking, scrubbing, squeezing, it all took the day. Around lunch Finn reappeared, asking what she wanted from the market.

‘Tommy’s give us some money,’ he said, and when Nancy gave him a frightened look, he shook his head. ‘I’m a man of my word.’

Smirking, she listed off a few things and turned back around, carrying on with her work.

By the time Finn got back, she was hanging the washing, humming to herself softly as she worked, and when the family started to arrive, they’d found her with a bubbling pie, the washing half dry, and some potatoes ready to be mashed.

‘Can you?’ she asked, looking to Polly as she took off her coat. The women bustled together and served up a plate to Arthur and Finn, then left one out for Tommy. Polly moved to the table with Nancy and hers servings, frowning when she saw Nancy wrapping up the pie dish and the half eaten pie in a tea towel. ‘Gonna take this over to John and the kids,’ she said, slipping on her coat and grinning at Polly’s shake of her head and Arthur’s risen brow.

But then the back door opened, and John gave an awkward smile.

‘Oh! I was just bringing dinner for you and the kids, made double for you,’ she said, but he only gave a little smile, as Tommy’s voice came from behind him.

‘You’re not going anywhere, Nancy.’

‘Sorry, sweetheart,’ John said low as he stepped around her, Nancy turning to watch as he patted Finn on the shoulder in a comforting way.

Polly watched on, watching Tommy, wondering what the hell had happened.

Tommy’s jaw flickered as he clenched it, coming to stand in front of her with his hands in his pockets. He looked over her, the light flush she had from her work, her hair messy, but lovely as always. ‘Want to tell me who you and Finn met on the way home today?’

‘What’s this, Tommy?’ Arthur asked in a low voice, not liking the way his brother was looming over the girl. ‘Nancy’s a good girl. She’s cooked and cleaned for this family all day. And this is a bloody good pie.’

Nancy leaned around Tommy to smile at Arthur, but blue eyes were still set on her, waiting for her answer. She took a breath, and told him, ‘Ethan, who walks me to work sometimes.’

‘By request?’

Pressing her lips together, she shook her head, staring right back at him. She’d done nothing wrong and she wasn’t going to let him make her think she had. ‘He was upset that I won’t agree to spending more time with him.’

‘And where did you meet this Ethan – does he have a last name?’

He already knew the answer to the first one, of course he did, he just wanted her to say it. Polly felt like intervening, but from the defiant look on the girls face, she was holding her own.

‘He used to come to Matron’s. Regular. And I don’t know his last name.’

Tommy nodded, taking a deep breath in through the nose. ‘And he was upset this morning?’

‘Tommy, you already know what he said,’ she sighed, trying to move around him to put space between them but he stepped to the side, blocking her.

‘I want to hear it from you. Like I should have heard it from you five fucking minutes after it happened,’ he said calmly.

Looking back to him, she glared at him for making her say it, with all their eyes on her. ‘He asked if I take the Shelby brothers all at once. As your private whore. Or if you take me in turns.’

His features flinched, brows raising. Then, without another word, nodded, picked up his hat and shoved it on as he marched out the door.

‘That’ll be us,’ Arthur said, shoving in a last bite of his dinner and giving John a nudge who rose too.

Eyes beginning to water, Nancy turned her back on the family as the brothers passed, meeting eyes ever so briefly with John, who gave her a mournful look, but his eyes were set. He wanted to kill him too.

‘I’m sorry, Nance!’ Finn shot out, rushing to her, holding her around the middle, making a few tears squeeze from her eyes, but she brushed them away.

‘Oh, it’s alright, Finn. We agreed you weren’t to tell Tommy, not John. And John didn’t make promises to anyone, so it’s alright. It’s not your fault.’

‘I just wanted to look after you,’ he said, voice in a little tremble.

‘Finish your dinner, Finn,’ Polly ordered softly, and Nancy followed him, taking her seat, but she couldn’t eat. Long after Finn had finished and gone back out, after she’d helped dry the dishes, after she’d washed her face and gotten into her slip for bed, she heard the doors open again, the boys drunken voices echoing up to her.

‘I wouldn’t,’ Polly warned from her own bedroom doorway, but Nancy gave her a defiant look. ‘I’m not coming after you.’

‘Don’t need you to, Pol,’ she said before turning and going down the stairs. Like the first time she’d ever been in the house, it was dark, except for the glow from the kitchen.

Inside, the brothers were loud, pouring each other drinks, even Tommy grinning at Arthur’s story. Even when his eyes lifted to her in the doorway, barely dressed, he kept the smile on his face, taking a sip of his drink. He nodded towards her and the brothers turned.

Arthur barrelled to her, wrapping a sweaty hot arm around her shoulders, bringing her to the table. ‘Oh that worm wont be coming near you any more, Nancy-girl. Here, have a drink!’

‘I don’t want a drink,’ she said, looking to Tommy. ‘I want to know what my punishment is.’

‘Why, have you done something wrong?’ he asked, all cocky and drunk.

‘You tell me, Tommy.’

Hands on the kitchen table, leaning down, glaring at him, his brothers either side of him, she waited as he took a long drag from his cigarette.

‘I’m not going to keep you in, Nancy. You’d do no good locked up here. But the next time I hear about someone speaking to you in a way I don’t like, I’m going to cut them up. Whether it’s the butcher not saying thank you when you hand over my money, the postman not replying to your good morning, or some slimly little git calling you a whore in the street, they’ll all get the same treatment.’

‘You,’ she started, forcing her voice not to shake. ‘Are fucking mental. Do you both agree with this?’

She looked to Arthur, who half shrugged, but nodded. Then John, whose eyes were trailing her scantly clad body, without shame or hiding. When his eyes reached her face, and saw she was looking at him, he tried to stop his growing smirk, but couldn’t. His lips twitched a few times, then he lowered his head.

‘Sorry, Nancy,’ he said with a soft chuckle, looking back up to her with a red tint on his cheeks.

She stood straight, crossing her arms over her chest, frowning at the lot of them. ‘You’ll realise how ridiculous you’re being in the morning.’

‘In the morning I’ll be fucking worse if you want me to,’ Tommy threatened, rising a brow. ‘Alright, if you aren’t happy with that, then hows about you’re not going to work anymore. You can wake up, have your breakfast, twitter about your day with Polly, have dinner, then put that pretty little silk back on and take yourself up to bed.’

Growling in frustration, she yelled, ‘Or how about I leave here and get to live my life without Thomas Shelby breathing down my neck – and his fucking brothers spying on me?’

Tommy was shaking his head, chuckling. ‘You can’t go anywhere, you’re a young girl with a pretty face and no money. There’s only one place you’d end up.’

‘Well maybe that is where I belong,’ she said, looking at John with venom, ‘You’d agree I was alright at it, wouldn’t you?’

John looked down, tongue in his cheek, shaking his head, as Tommy glared flatly.

‘While I live and breathe, Nancy Owen, I’ll do what I can to keep you safe,’ he said, like it was a threat. ‘People can say what they like – once they see your mate Ethan’s face they’ll soon shut their mouths.’

‘That’s alright for you, isn’t it? Can cut a man up and no one dares speak about you again. But they’ll still whisper about me.’

‘Not when you’re living in my house they wont,’ he stated, as if it were an order to the world. Then he sniffed, finally looking away from her. ‘Final choice. You can do your work, from here. You can go to school, to the markets. But anything said, any looks thrown your way. I want to know.’

Nancy scoffed, shaking her head.

‘Nancy.’

‘Those are your choices.’

‘A cell, a cage or a prison then?’ she asked, snarling at him. ‘I’m the one who had to hear him, you know. I’m the one who had to think about it all day – who has to walk around knowing what all of Birmingham thinks of me.’

‘Well, you know what’s right, and so do I. And I’ll keep reminding everyone else of it until they get it in their heads. Yeah?’

Nancy rose her brows, looking to the ground. She was cold now, but wouldn’t dare stand down just yet. ‘I want to keep working. I like having money that’s just mine.’

‘We’ve got money, Nancy,’ Arthur said gently, looking at his brothers. ‘Why’d she wanna work so much, ey?’

Tommy watched her. ‘She’s independent, Arthur. Doesn’t want to feel like she doesn’t have control either.’

‘I’ll work from here,’ she said finally, soft and resigning. ‘I want to walk around on my own though.’

Tommy nodded, licking his lips, listening to her terms.

‘I want to be able to go out with Polly.’

‘Fair,’ he said with a nod. ‘But you’ll start watching who is around, and if you’re drinking, it’s in the Garrison. No walking home alone. From anywhere.’

‘Why don’t you hire me a bodyguard?’ she asked, squinting a little. But it wasn’t totally with malice. He caught the sparkle in her eye. He was forgiven.

Tommy looked to John, brow raised. ‘Good idea, don’t you think?’

‘I think the princess needs locked up in her tower, Tom,’ he said with a smirk, looking at her, testing her reaction.

Of course, she smiled.

‘I’m going to bed.’

‘No, no, stay, have a drink,’ Arthur said, bundling her up and over to them to take a seat by him.

Nancy sighed, holding her glass as it was filled. ‘What did you do to him?’

‘Well we had to find the bugger first,’ Arthur said, filling up the other cups. ‘Found out his last name, where he lived. Knocked on the door. Just about shit himself there and then.’

She’d seen the boys shout before, argue. Look intimidating. But never actually acting physically violent. She could hardly imagine it.

‘John grabbed him, shoved him back into the house and started laying in before we could even get a word in about who we were!’

‘He knew who we fucking were,’ John spoke, glaring.

‘Anyways, Tommy pulled our wee boxer up and had a word. You’ll be alright now, Nance.’

‘I was alright anyways,’ she said softly, glancing to John who eyed her with a frown. ‘Thank you, though.’

He smiled, small and tired, but unable to look away, glancing over her bare collar bones and arms.

‘When are you and Pol going out?’ Tommy asked, taking out a cigarette and sliding one over to her. He looked at John, who was still looking, and then back to her.

‘Don’t know, she just mentioned it in passing, said she needs a breather from you lot.’

The brothers chuckled at her little jest.

‘Finish that and go to bed, Nancy. It’s late.’

‘Not too late for you though?’ she asked, blew her smoke out and sipping her drink.

‘I’m not half stripped at the kitchen table, am I?’

She looked down, flushing but grinning, laughing. ‘Sorry.’

Arthur’s arm as around her again, patting her on the arm. ‘Don’t you worry, Nancy-girl. You’re family. And no sane man would complain about a bit of skin on show.’

She leaned up, kissing his cheek, then pulled out of his arms, finishing her drink and stubbing out her cigarette. ‘Now I’ve fully showed myself up, I’m going to bed.’

‘Goodnight, Nance,’ Arthur said, looking into his glass.

‘Night, lovely,’ John said with a small smile.

When Nancy looked to Tommy, his eyes lifted from her body to her face, and he gave the slightest lift of his lips. ‘Goodnight.’

Chapter Text

When it was quiet, and no one else was around, Nancy would take her books into the shop and set up near Scudboat as he sorted Tommy’s bets, she’d do Keith’s and Kenny’s books. Granted, she had much less work than him to do, but she liked taking her time. She did them all on a Friday, for the whole week before. Keith would send a scrap of paper inside his book, with anything he’d ordered that needed to be charged for, and all the men booked in yet to pay. Who’d picked up, who hadn’t.

She’d make him a sandwich for his lunch, setting it by him, and he’d thank her with a grin, and they’d work in silence the rest of the day, with a few cups of tea in between. It was certainly his favourite day of work.

They were sat in there silence, working away, when the doors burst open. She flinched, assuming it was Tommy on a rampage, but then looked up in horror at finding that it wasn’t Tom at all.

The men beat Scudboat, ransacking the shop, moving though the house, all while one man stood by her, a gun to her head.

‘You just sit there and stay quiet,’ the man said, another moving through from the kitchen whilst Scudboat groaned on the floor. ‘Sorted?’

‘Yes, aye,’ the man spoke, eyes catching on her, a grin growing on his face. ‘That’s Tommy Shelby’s whore. Shares her with his brothers.’

‘Must be a prize cunt on her,’ the man with the gun said, and they laughed. She thought then that the worse might come, as he gripped her face, leaning into her. ‘Is your cunt as pretty as your face?’

Eyes closed, she refused to answer, only to be struck across the face, hard.

‘Fucking slag,’ he murmured, but moved along, and the boys rounded up, leaving as swift as they came.

As soon as the house was silent, she stumbled out of her chair, crawling to Scudboat, checking him over. ‘Oh god. Oh god. I’ll get something, just wait.’

‘Get Tommy,’ he groaned, coughing. ‘Garrison.’

She scrambled up, muttering, ‘I’ll get him, I’ll get him.’

Then she was sneaking out the door, checking the street and seeing none of the men. She could feel her cheek was blinding, a cut from one of the man’s rings stinging in the cool air. But she pushed on, running into the Garrison, ignoring the blonde barmaid who frowned at her appearance and looking around the pub, panting, heading for the side room.

Inside, Polly, Arthur and Tommy sat, frowning up at John as he spoke to them. But then Nancy barged the door open, making them all jump for their weapons.

She panted, eyes on John, who was closest. ‘There were men – come to the house. They’ve ransacked the lot.’

He frowned at her, looking her over, at her panting hard, then looked to Tommy. Then they all reacted at once, leaping from their seats and rushing out the room, Tommy gripping Nancy’s arm and pulling her with them. ‘Who, Nance?’

‘Traveller types, I don’t know,’ she said, rushing to keep up with him. ‘Scudboat’s hurt, really bad.’

‘Did they do anything to you?’ he asked, looking at her darkly when she didn’t answer.

‘Hit me. Said some things. Nothing else,’ she breathed, gesturing for him to go forwards when they reached the lane. She watched them file in, then followed, catching her breath, leaning against the wall.

‘Nobody fucking move,’ Tommy’s voice came calling from the other room. She listened as he stepped sideways and to where he could look through to her. ‘Nancy – did you see what they were doing?’

‘No…no. They had me sat here. I couldn’t do anything, I’m sorry!’

‘You’re alright,’ he said calmly, but his eyes were scanning the other room. ‘You’re alright. There’s a grenade somewhere.’

She gasped, eyes wide, scanning the room.

‘Don’t move. Just don’t move,’ he said, speaking to the family. Nancy could hear them bickering, hear them talking, but couldn’t make out their words. Then Tommy was gone, flying out the door.

___________

That night, after everything, Finn slept on the sofa, curled into Nancy’s side. The house was a wreck, but they’d set the living room straight. She’d hummed to him, stroking his hair, while the others sat silent, drinking and smoking their fear away.

Now that he slept she was silent too. John had gone home to the children. Arthur was silent for once. Tommy was haunting, sat in the corner, gazing at Finn.

‘He’s alright,’ Polly said, rising and taking her drink with her. ‘I’m going to bed.’

Nancy smiled as she passed, touching her shoulder softly.

‘You did well today, Nance,’ Arthur said, taking it too as his moment to leave. ‘You’re a good lass. You’ll heal up in no time.’

‘Night, Arthur.’

Tommy rose too then. ‘I’ll take him up to bed.’

Nancy moved as best she could, but Tommy’s hand still moved against her as he worked to collect the boy from beside her. It burnt, the touch of him. A man who shared so little of himself with the world. Who people moved for in the streets. No one brushed up against Tommy Shelby, for fear of him. But here, in their strange mismatched home, he’d brush up against her.

His eyes flickered to her for a moment, making a small noise as he rose with Finn. ‘I’ll be back down.’

She knew what that meant. That there was going to be a conversation had. She tried to think of all the things she could have done wrong, maybe bursting into the Garrison, maybe leaving Scudboat alone.

‘Don’t look too worried,’ he said, sitting by her on the sofa, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. He fixed himself another smoke and offered her it, but she shook her head. She couldn’t smoke much or it made her sick. She didn’t know how they did it all day. ‘I’m sorry you were alone.’

‘Oh…that’s okay. You can’t be around all the time. You’re a busy man.’

He listened to her shift to sitting properly up instead of curled into the corner, shifting herself to sit on the edge of the sofa by him. Then he sighed. ‘The reason we weren’t here, was John. He wanted a family meeting.’

‘Oh.’

He smiled at her efforts not to press. She never asked to know anything, yet he found himself always telling her. He looked at her then, so he could see her reaction. ‘John wants to start paying you to look after the kids. Have you live in with him. Cook dinner, do the washing.’

‘Oh.’

He watched her, waiting for her to speak again while she frowned.

‘He had a family meeting about that?’

‘Well, he’d be taking you away from here,’ he explained, leaning back against the backrest, watching her. He was tired, she could tell. This conversation was the least of his problems. ‘You’d be like a housewife – without the wife. You’d go from being a young girl with no burdens to a mother of four, cooking and cleaning for them and my brother every day.’

She looked to him, seeing the look on his face. ‘You don’t think I should.’

His head shook gently, rolling on the back rest. It was the most relaxed she’d seen him. ‘You’ve your own life ahead of you.’

‘I don’t mind helping out, I really don’t. That all just seems a bit… much?’

He nodded, closing his eyes a moment. ‘I agree. I’ll talk to him. You aren’t shaken up about today?’

She shook her head, leaning back too, turning her head like he had to look at him. ‘I’ve been hit before, haven’t I?’

Tommy’s hand rose, touching the nick in her cheek, the darkening bruise. It wasn’t much, but it was more than she should have. He looked at it, following his thumb where he stroked across the mark, then met her eye, his own half closed, soft. ‘I’m going to have to buy you a gun.’

She laughed, which made him grin, chuckling to himself. ‘If I’d have managed to shoot one of them, they’d have done worse, you know it.’

He nodded, taking his hand off her, but smiling at her still. ‘You don’t stay down, do you, Nance?’

‘Neither do you,’ she reasoned, raising a grinning brow to him. ‘I’ll take the kids to school every day, if John sends them round. I’ll give them breakfast too if he likes. I can pick them up too.’

Tommy hummed. ‘We will talk about it.’

She smirked then, looking to him. ‘You’d be sad to see me go, wouldn’t you, Tommy Shelby?’

He rose a brow, but his lips were twitching. ‘I’d miss the dinners and the clean shirts. And the smiles, I suppose. Troublemaker.’

‘I don’t make the trouble, it just follows me around.’

‘I wish I could say the same,’ he murmured, smiling though. Then his hand landed on her thigh. ‘Come on, bed.’

‘Not gonna carry me?’ she teased, then gasped when he leapt up from the sofa, slipping his arms beneath her knees and around her back, lifting her bridal style, shushing her as she laughed. ‘You’re going to drop me!’

‘I’d never drop you, love,’ he promised, moving for the stairs, holding her to his chest. ‘Barely weigh a thing. We need to fatten you up.’

She’d looped her arms around his neck, laughing in his ear as her trotted up the stairs with her. ‘Alright, we’re here.’

‘No, no, you wanted the full service,’ he said, lifting up a foot and springing the door open, stumbling, shushing her again as she laughed. ‘No, if you were Finn, I’d put you in fully dressed, tuck you up and give you a kiss goodnight. But you’re likely to want to change first, and can probably manage tucking yourself in.’

Nancy laughed as he set her on the bed, a wide grin on his face, one she’d rarely seen. She touched the sheets, smiling up at him. ‘Whose room was this?’

He looked around, sighing, hands on his hips. ‘Mine. Was the only one made up when you came to us. So I took my stuff out of it. I’m in the box room down the hall.’

‘Tommy!’ she scolded, moving to stand, but he put hands to her shoulders. From the smell of his breath she could tell then how drunk he was.

Suddenly, lips pressed against her forehead, firm and lingering. He pulled away to murmur, ‘There was your goodnight kiss, Nancy. Time for bed.’

She felt small then, sat on the side of her bed, when he rose to full height, moving to the door way, looking down at her with his hooded eyes. ‘Night, Tommy.’

He stood silent for a few beats. ‘Night, Nance.’

Chapter Text

Polly looped arms with Nancy, pulling her along to the Garrison, raising her chin to the men outside, showing no fear. The crowd parted for them to get through to the bar, and Nancy came face to face with the curious barmaid for the first time properly.

‘This is Nancy, Harry,’ Polly called over, ignoring the blonde woman, though she lingered near them at the bar, obviously waiting to be spoken to. ‘Nancy Owen.’

Harry smiled, gripping two glasses. ‘Nice to meet you, lass. Gin, Pol?’

‘Thanks, pet,’ she said, taking the glasses and nodding for Nancy to take the bottle. ‘Come on, I’m not sitting in that stuffy back room all night. Let’s get a table.’

Nancy followed, and when Polly arrived to the one she wanted, by the windows, the two men sat there rose, tipping their hats to her and going to stand at the other end of the room. ‘You’re just as scary as Tommy.’

‘No, I just carry the thought of Tommy around with me,’ she said, pouring their drinks. ‘How are you liking your new life?’

‘Well, I wake up, make breakfast, the kids show up, I take them to school. I come back, spend the day with you or milling around, then the kids show up some days to tell me about their days. I’ve asked them why they wont walk to school on their own if they can walk back, but they’ve said they’d just stay in bed if they thought I wouldn’t find out about it.’

Polly was grinning, all amused. ‘Shits.’

‘They are! But sweet. I don’t mind it. Then dinner, then bed. Then on Friday’s I do my books. Mill around in the barbers talking to Kenny a while. That’s it really. That’s my life.’

‘Are you happy with us?’

‘Of course I am, Pol,’ she said, frowning at Polly’s worried look.

‘I just…I know it’s not all sunshine and butterflies. But Tommy’s trying to do right by you. I know he does it twisted sometimes, but I’ve never seen him try to be good this hard in his whole life. He’s always been a lovely boy, and he loves, loves deeply. But he’s changed, since the war. You’ve brought out in him what I was missing. It doesn’t always show, but he’s happier.’

‘I can see that,’ she said, though frowned. ‘He’s stressed, with everything going on.’

‘Well, the less said about that, the better. I’m just glad to have you here, alright?’

Nancy raised her glass, clinking it against Polly’s. Their evening had began, and the Garrison was only going to get busier.

The pub grew quiet when the brothers arrived, apart from a musical giggle coming from one corner. Eyes glanced, including Tommy’s, who saw Nancy, leaning close into Polly’s side as the pair shared a secret joke, trying to swallow their smiles.

Polly rose her glass to them, doing a little wave, smirking, nudging Nancy to do the same. But she just grinned, sipping her drink. John, toothpick in his mouth, split from his brothers who went straight to the back room and moved to the girls.

He put one hand on the back of Nancy’s chair, the other on the table, and leaned down to say, ‘Why don’t you two come back with us?’

‘Piss off, John. We’re on a night out, not locked in the bloody snug with you lot!’

John’s eyes moved to Nancy, his face close, smirking, slipping the pick out of his mouth. ‘You got plenty of money?’

‘Harry hasn’t charged me for a drink in months,’ Polly reasoned, waving him off. ‘Take your flirting elsewhere.’

‘Can’t help it, Pol,’ he said, rising, looking Nancy over openly, eyes twinkling with the drink. ‘You need anything you come ask, alright?’

‘Like what?’ she replied, which made Polly raise an impressed brow. ‘What is it you have got to offer, John Shelby?’

Rolling his tongue on his bottom lip, John let out a chuckle, looking away and back to her. ‘Anything you need, Mary.’

Jaw dropping, she watched his brow raise to her in challenge, his head jerking a little with it, then as he turned and melted in with the crowd.

‘He’s a cocky little shit, that one,’ Polly said, rolling her eyes and topping up their drinks.

__________

Nancy pushed her way through the pub, not having much the same effect as Polly did. But when bodies turned, some faces flashed in recognition and stepped out the way for her. She found her way to the bar, standing patiently. When the barmaid saw her she beelined for her.

‘Nancy, is it?’

‘Yes – can we have another bottle, please?’ she asked, but then her eyes flickered behind her.

‘What can I get you, Mr Shelby?’

Nancy turned around, finding that the crowd had parted further and Tommy was behind her, so close that his eyes almost closed to look down at her. ‘You’re alright, Grace. Serve Nancy.’

Grace blinked a couple of times, but moved to get the bottle of gin. Tommy bent to her a little.

‘It’s getting busier.’

‘It was busy when we got here,’ she argued lightly, ignoring Grace as she set the bottle on the counter, waiting.

Tommy frowned, waving his hand in dismissal of the barmaid, looking down at Nancy with an air of light challenge in him. ‘People are drunker now.’

‘Can’t drag me through the pub,’ she warned, smirking at him and plucking up her bottle. She twisted to go around him, and he let her, brushing up against his chest to escape.

‘Anything to drink?’ Grace offered, but he shook his head, returning to the room.

Nancy returned to Polly, who was being charmed by a young man she obviously knew. ‘Here, you’ll love Nancy - everyone loves Nancy. Nancy, this is Georgie.’

The man lifted his head. He was young, older than her still, but younger than John. He grinned at her, a winning smile. ‘Hello, Nancy.’

‘Nancy is a princess,’ Polly told him, laughing when he took to a knee, raising his hands and praising her.

‘Princess Nancy, it is an honour!’ he said in jest, taking one hand and kissing it before he stood again.

‘Sir Georgie,’ she greeted, giggling, putting the bottle down and letting Polly fill the glasses. ‘How is your evening?’

‘My evening?’ he asked with a slur, friendly and chuckling. ‘Much better now I’ve you two to look at. Here, Simon, look who we’ve got. Polly Grey and Princess Nancy.’

His friend turned, another joining, all good lads, a night on the drink. Polly was the centre of the universe, Nancy realised then. She could imagine her much younger, all eyes on her, able to out wit anyone, charm anyone. She smirked and she winked and she played just close enough to the line for fun.

One day, Nancy hoped to be like Polly.

At one point, men were shuffling out the door, time to move on to the next place for anyone making the rounds in town, and Nancy was bumped into. Georgie put his hand to the middle of her back, moving her closer into him, closer to the table, and he lifted it away every now and then, but the boarder had been breached. Soon, his arm was around her, hand touching her, knuckles bumping her, any chance he got in conversation.

She laughed probably more than she ever had, and Polly watched over her with fondness. Nancy knew that if these boys were anything to be worried about, Polly would have something to say.

‘Oh, did you know, that the notorious Polly Gray once threw a drink over our mate Darren here,’ he said, nodding his drink to Darren who sat at the table, laughing drunkenly. Nancy had got up to let him have her seat, as he was starting to tip over. Georgie put his arm around her shoulders, gesturing to Polly. ‘Look, she looks like butter wouldn’t melt, but she’s a feisty one. Polly Gray’ll look after you.’

‘She’s like a mum to me,’ Nancy said, and he didn’t hear, leaning closer. ‘Pol – she’s like my ma!’

Polly was grinning, rolling her eyes to the boys awing, and Georgie pressed a big wet kiss to Nancy’s cheek.

‘She’s a sweetheart, Pol, a bloody sweetheart! Where’d you find her?’

‘In a tower,’ John said, coming to stand at Georgie’s side, turned towards him though, instead of facing the table like everyone else.

‘Aye, alright, Johnny. How’s tricks?’ Georgie asked, still all smiles.

John looked at Nancy, licking his lips, trying to keep himself cool. ‘Good, yeah. Ere, the girls are moving on, Georgie.’

Polly scoffed. ‘We’re quite comfortable here, thank you.’

‘Well she’s either going home or coming back, yeah?’ John snapped, looking at Polly.

‘Is that Tom’s orders or yours, John?’ she challenged flatly brow raised to a sharp point, reminding him that his glare didn't carry half as much weight as his brother's.

Georgie still had his arm around her, still smiling, but less so. ‘We were just having a laugh, John. No funny business.’

John glared, biting at his lip while he waited.

‘It’s alright, Pol, I don’t mind,’ Nancy said, slipping out from Georgie’s arm and to John. She’d never seen him look like Tommy before, not like that. ‘Will you fetch our glasses?’

‘Course I will, sweetheart.’ He gave Georgie another look, clutching the glasses in one hand, letting Polly go ahead, staring blankly when she raised a brow to him. Then he was behind Nancy, crowding her, a hand at her waist, guiding her though. ‘He’s a charmer, that George.’

‘He was pretty charming,’ she agreed with a smirk, turning to see his face scrunch up. But he saw the tease in her eyes, and his own eyes twinkled, squeezing her waist as they slipped through the door after Polly.

‘Welcome! Welcome!’ Arthur called, beckoning them in. He got up, letting Polly slide in, then sat again, Nancy beside him, John beside her, and Tommy by Pol. ‘Have a bloody drink!’

John set out their glasses, and Polly poured, saying, ‘Bloody lot of you drive me nuts.’

‘Order was for her, Pol, not for you,’ Tommy said with a bored look, but there was an amused twinkle in his eye.

‘Well I wasn’t going to leave her alone to be leered at.’

‘She was already being leered at,’ John said, looking to Tom’s risen brow. ‘George Tinnon.’

Tommy rolled his eyes. ‘Georgie likes a laugh, he’s harmless.’

‘We don’t want no one touching our Nance,’ Arthur said, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her into his side, jumbling her. ‘Isn’t that right, Nancy-girl? Not if he isn’t Blinder approved.’

Tommy looked away. Arthur made him cringe sometimes. He lit up a cigarette, sliding his pack across to Nancy, but she shook her own at him, smirking when he looked impressed. Polly watched his smile, smiling to herself too.

‘Well we were having a bloody good night until security rocked up,’ Polly said, clinking her glass to Nancy’s. ‘Maybe next time we’ll go further afield.’

Nancy shook her head. ‘Cant, I’ve entered into a contract with Shelby Company Limited, promising I wont drink anywhere but the Garrison.’

Their laughter echoed through to the main room, carrying over to Grace at the bar who eyed the hatch, biting her lip.

‘Leave off her, Arthur,’ Polly warned, slapping his arm lightly.

‘Sorry, there, Nance,’ he said letting her go. ‘Nice to have a pretty girl to hold onto, ey, Tom?’

Tommy blinked, shaking his head at the statement and looked to Nancy. ‘Arthur is hammered.’

She chuckled, shifting away a little, her thigh touching John’s. ‘You’re alright by me, Arthur.’

‘She’s a darling!’ he declared, arms in the air. Arthur was almost unreachable to Nancy. He always seemed a world away, like his mind was somewhere just outside of the room. She could never tell if he loved Tommy or if he hated him. But he liked her, and was never unkind. Just far away. Troubles of his own, that he kept to himself, troubles it wasn't her business to go searching for.

The room chuckled, Polly muttering a quiet question to Tommy. Nancy shifted a little in her seat to get comfortable, brushing up against John again. ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t you say sorry for being close to me, love,’ he said, putting a hand on her thigh when she made to move away. ‘I like you where you are.’

She looked up into his bright eyes, and he didn’t take his hand away, not when he turned to speak to Tommy and Poll, nor to tease Arthur further. He lifted his hand to light a cigarette, handing it to her, and she thought with relief and with upset that he might be done with her, then he lit his own smoke, and settled his free hand back on her, heavy and hot.

Polly met Nancy’s eye, raising her brow minutely, sipping her drink with a look of suspicion.

‘God, I need to piss,’ Arthur grumbled, rising. ‘Sorry, beautiful.’

Nancy chuckled, brushing out out the booth passed John, who put a hand to her waist, holding her back against him where he squashed to the wall. He nudged her back to the booth, fingers seemingly linked to her in some way, swapping hands to follow her, the tips of his fingers just dancing at her spine.

The sounds of the pub flooded the room for a second as Arthur opened the door and it closed again.

‘Bet he doesn’t come back,’ Tommy said, smirking as he smoked.

‘He’s a bloody migraine,’ Polly added, looking to John. ‘You better not get that pissed.’

‘Oi, what about Tommy?’

‘Tommy never gets that way, he’s too serious,’ Polly said with a laugh, slapping Tom’s arm, who rolled his eyes but nodded.

‘I’m not carrying you home, either,’ he said to Nancy, brows risen in firmness but his lips in a smirk.

‘That’s alright, Tommy, I’ve got our Nancy,’ John said, arm linking around her waist, squeezing her. Tommy watched the action, understanding washing over him.

‘Watch those hands, John,’ Polly warned lightly.

‘You don’t mind, do you, princess?’ he said, but stretched his arm back along the top of the seat behind her instead, giving Tommy a look of defiance.

‘I’m going to the ladies,’ she said instead of answering, rising, waiting for him to move out for her. But he gazed up at her, sat with his legs spread, raising his brow.

‘John,’ Tommy warned, but Nancy wasn’t to be beaten. She moved around him, facing away from his smirk, letting him get a good look, then went to the door. ‘You’ll be right?’

She waved him off, moving through to the bar and found the place a little emptier. Busy still, but quieter. She moved to the ladies room, smiling at Georgie and his friends on the way past to let them know there wasn’t any hard feelings.

She was reapplying her lipstick, when the door opened and Grace came in, smiling when she saw her in her timid way. ‘Hello, Nancy.’

‘Hello – I don’t think we’ve been introduced properly?’

‘Grace Burgess. I’ve worked here a little while,’ she said with a nod, moving to wash her hands and look in the mirror. She took a breath in, sighing. ‘I always look a mess by the end of the night on the bar. You look so pretty.’

‘You look just fine,’ Nancy said, giving a kind look through their reflections. Nancy hadn't had much to do with other girls. She'd had friends, of course, through school. But she'd finished earlier than them. A lot of them got married, while she was helping at home. Even more moved away. It hadn't bothered her much, which proved how close they hadn't been. She didn't know how to talk to girls. She always felt intimidated or superior - not in a snotty way, mind. Either that they wouldn't want to be friends with her, or that she wouldn't want to be friends with them. Girls were always more complicated than boys - harder and easier to trust all at once and in different ways.

One thing she did know, was that Grace didn't intimidate her, and she definitely didn't want to be her friend.

Grace licked her lips, fiddling with her fingers a second, then said, ‘Listen, Nancy. I know what the word around town is, that you’ve been having a bit of a hard time of it. I just wanted to let you know that I don’t see it that way.’

‘It’s a small town, people have little else to talk about,’ she said with a shrug, repacking her little bag and turning to face Grace fully. ‘Thank you, though.’

‘You’re welcome. See, I think Tommy is a good man, and I don’t think he’d ever take you in just to – to do that.’

‘I know,’ she said, smiling and nodding. She wondered just how much this girl knew about him, which parts of him she knew. She wanted the conversation to end. But Grace was persistent.

‘His brothers too, they’re all good men. And well, you’re so young, aren’t you?’

Nancy nodded, tightening her smile. ‘Wow, I’m starting to sober up. I better get a drink.’

‘Sorry, I’ll come serve you in a minute,’ Grace said with a chuckle, watching Nancy leave.

A voice yelled behind Nancy, almost in a growl, making her leap and turn to fin John’s goofy grin. ‘Idiot!’

He laughed, loudly, putting hands on her waist, leading her through the bar back towards the room. ‘You were gone for ages.’

She waited until they were inside, the door closed, until she said, ‘Sorry, the barmaid had a whole lot to say to me.’

Tommy sat up a little in his seat. ‘Like what?’

Polly was frowning, deeply, watching his desperate eyes.

‘Well,’ Nancy sighed, taking back to her seat, though it wasn’t her seat, because John had pulled her down onto one knee, holding her with one hand and his drink with the other. Nancy was too drunk by then to even really care and the others in the room were too interested in what she had to say. ‘It was strange, it was like she was saying one thing but meant something else. Like she was trying to get me to admit something, you know?’

‘What did she say?’ Polly asked, and Nancy relayed the conversation. ‘She’s fishing, Tommy.’

‘I know, Pol,’ he sighed, leaning back in his seat, twisting his head to gaze at the hatch. ‘But what for?’

‘Well, she either fancies you a lot, or she’s a sneak – or both,’ Nancy blurted, all eyes looking to her in thought. ‘Oh, not that I know anything though.’

John squeezed her, chuckling, giving her half of his cigarette. That seemed to give them away.

‘Put her down, John,’ Polly ordered with a sigh, then looked to Nancy. ‘What’s it like out there?’

‘Pretty quiet now,’ she said with a nod. ‘No sign of Arthur.’

‘Probably for the best, probably in a drain somewhere,’ Tommy said, rolling his eyes. ‘I’m calling it a night.’

‘Aw, Tommy, don’t,’ Polly moaned, skinny arms flailing around her. ‘Stay out, relax! There’s only a few hours to go. We’ll go sit out in the bar.’

‘Nah.’ He stood, picking up his coat and his hat, then looked over at John and Nancy, his hand stroking gently up and down her spine, watching her smoke as if she were performing a miracle. ‘Nancy-’

‘Aw, Tom,’ John moaned over the top of him, ‘Can’t let anyone else have any fucking fun can you?’

Tommy spread his hands out, gesturing to Polly in patient silence, then started again, more firmly, ‘Nancy – are you alright if John gets you and Pol home?’

‘Course, Tommy,’ she said with a smile, but she could feel the tug on her, that part of her that relied on him and him alone. But she could see his dark look. He wanted to be alone.

Tom gave John a glare. ‘You going to stay sober enough, John?’

‘Piss off.’

‘Right then,’ Tom said, looking to Polly. ‘If he’s a mess, wait for Harry to close. He’ll take you both back.’

‘Piss off, Tommy!’ John shouted again, his grip on Nancy tightening as he moved her to glare at his brother. That was a defining difference between the brothers. Tommy hid as much of himself as he could, whereas John's emotions played out on his face as they happened, even more so on the drink.

Tommy only gave a light smile, then leaned forward, kissing Nancy on the temple, firm and lingering like the last time. ‘Goodnight, Nance.’

‘Night, Tommy,’ she murmured, hoping to god that John wasn’t going to launch her off him and lunge for his brother. Tommy’s eyes flickered to John, his brow raising ever so slightly, then he was out.

‘He’s just trying to wind you up, John,’ Polly said to the frowning boy. ‘Reminding you he’s the reason she’s here. Not to mess with her.’

‘I’m not messing with you, am I, princess?’ he asked, sitting up more so he could look at her. He smiled when she did.

‘You’re drunk, and a flirt,’ she said, lightly pushing his face away, rolling her eyes at his smirk. She looked up to Polly, who started standing up, clutching her bottle in one hand, her glass in the other. ‘Pol?’

‘Now, listen – I’m going out there for two drinks. Then I’m going to knock on this door and you’re going to get your coats on and we’re going home, alright?’

Nancy frowned, watching at she made way to the door. ‘Polly!’

Polly sent her a dirty old smile. ‘You scream if he puts hands on you, I’ll shoot him in the crotch faster than he can put his cock back in his pants.’

John was howling, letting Nancy slip off his knee onto the bench beside him. He was still chuckling as the door shut and he began pouring them fresh glasses of whiskey. ‘You have some of this, lovely.’

‘I’m drunk,’ she said, shaking her head but picking up the drink and sipping it anyways, grimacing, making John laugh, holding onto her, one hand on her knee and the other on her back. ‘You know, before you all I never smoked, had barely drank at all. It’s fucking horrible, John.’

‘You get used to it,’ he said, shaking his head, his laughter petering out. The room was silent for a heavy beat. ‘I asked Pol before, if she could let me alone with you.’

‘Why?’

He shrugged, trying to stop his smile. ‘So maybe I could try kiss ya without the whole family wanting to rip my head off my shoulders.’

‘What if I didn’t want you to?’ she asked, smirking as he lifted his hands from her, tilting his head in question, hovering just close to her. His eyes flicked from her eyes to her lips and back again.

‘I really fucking want to though, princess,’ he murmured, the hand on her back running up and to the back of her neck, but not pulling her in, not yet.

‘Shelby boys always get what they want, don’t they?’ Nancy whispered back, eyes heavy, so close to him that she could barely focus.

‘Usually take it without asking, but for your sake I thought I’d be a good boy and get permission,’ he whispered back, so close to her mouth that she could feel his breath on her, their eyes still stuck to the others.

‘You haven’t said please.’

He smiled, tilting his head, pulling her in, just against his lips, then whispered, ‘Please?’

Her reply was a hum against his lips as he pulled her to him, kissing her, touching her, pulling her legs over his lap, his hand running up the outside of her thigh, squeezing the flesh there, moaning against her mouth.

‘Can’t get you out of my head,’ he rushed out in a breath, fingers against her scalp, nails digging in just enough for her to groan against him. ‘You’re always there.’

She could hardly think of anything to say. Since him, since that first time, she’d never been kissed by someone who really wanted her. Surely, the men that paid for her wanted her. But not like this. Not in the same way. She pulled back.

‘You’re the first man whose kissed me without paying for it,’ she gasped as they breathed on each other, John’s eyes and hands on her, ever moving, ever feeling.

‘Because you’re mine, I made you mine,’ he said, pulling her back in. ‘Did I – ey, princess? Not Tommy’s.’

She flinched back, scrunching her nose at him. His face slipped.

‘I didn’t mean owt by it, Nance,’ he started as she slipped off him. ‘Fucks sake, I didn’t mean nothing!’

‘It’s all just a competition to you lot, isn’t it?’ she barked. ‘Well I’m not a fucking prize John Shelby! I’m not a fucking doll you lot can just pull around!’

‘Well you let him do enough of it!’ he roared back, tension in the small room turning from lust to rage within seconds.

Nancy stepped to him, finger pointing at him. ‘I don’t have a choice any more than you do – even less, in fact!’

‘Fuck off, don’t have a choice,’ he barked, flinging his glass at the wall, frowning at it, clenching his jaw.

Nancy stood over him, breathing heavy, hands raised in defence, and Polly slammed the door open.

‘And just what the fuck are you playing at, John Shelby?’ she growled, gripping Nancy’s arm and pulling her out the room, standing in the open door way. ‘We’ll see ourselves home, thank you. Sober up!’

Nancy didn’t realise she was crying until they got outside and the cold air hit her face. ‘I don’t know what happened, Pol.’

‘I do,’ she said, lighting a cigarette rapidly and handing it to her, wrapping her coat around her and glaring back at the pub. ‘Tommy is a controlling idiot and John is a bloody drunk one. Come on. Home.’

‘Tommy’ll be angry if we walk back alone,’ she mumbled, but followed on like a stray, sucking harshly on her cigarette like it would calm her down - and it did. As vile as it all was, there was nothing more settling than a good drink and smoke.

‘Tommy’s arse!’ Polly yelled into the street, tumbling a little, laughing and rounding back on Nancy to pick up her hand. ‘Come on, my love. I’ve a blade in my pocket and a pistol in my bag. We’re well set for invasion.’

‘Polly!’ John called up the street, marching towards them.

‘For gods sake,’ she sighed, clutching Nancy closer.

‘He’ll kill me if you walk home alone!’ John called, skipping to catch up.

‘He’ll kill you either way, John. Ten paces behind us, thank you,’ she called over her shoulder, not bothering to look back.

Nancy stayed facing forwards, though she could feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of her head. She stumbled her way to Watery Lane, wondering if she’d ever been so drunk – which she hadn’t. It felt worse in the fresh air. ‘Polly, I might die.’

‘One day, Nancy – but not today, not on my watch,’ she said with determination, tugging her faster up the street and to the door. ‘Go home, John.’

He was walking up to them, a drunken swagger in his step, cigarette between his fingers. ‘I’ll see you inside, no arguments.’

‘It’s unlikely someone is going to leap out and rape us at the front door,’ Polly said boredly, shoving in her key and cracking the door open. She gave him a merry smile. ‘There, you can fuck off now!’

‘Nancy,’ John said flatly, and when she didn’t reply, he said firmer, ‘Nancy, I’m talking to you.’

‘She doesn’t want to talk to you while you’re drunk!’

‘You’re fucking drunk, she’s fucking drunk! We are all fucking drunk!’

‘I know, and god forbid this family finishes a night on the fucking drink without wanting to brawl!’ Polly whisper-shouted at him, marching to him, a finger in his chest. ‘Whatever you’ve done wrong tonight is your own fault, John Shelby. There was no one else in that room with you. All you. Go home and think about it, then come over in the morning and apologise if you’ve pulled your head far enough out your arse to do so!’

If Polly were a man, Nancy would have thought John was going to hit her. But instead he sneered, pointing at Nancy over Polly’s shoulder, but speaking low to his aunt, his voice cracking, ‘I didn’t mean to upset her, Pol. The only fucking thing in this city with any light in it. She’s an angel.’

Polly looked back to Nancy, rolling her eyes a little. ‘Why don’t you sleep on the sofa, John? Where are the kids, ey?’

‘There at the neighbours, that old bird is keeping an eye on them,’ he said, sounding like he was starting to cry. Nancy closed her eyes, shaking in the cold. ‘I’ve left em, Pol. And then I’ve fucked up.’

‘Go on inside, Nance. Get yourself to bed,’ Polly said softly, hands on John.

‘I’m sorry, Nancy,’ he said in a wobbling voice, putting his forehead to Polly’s chest.

‘She’ll talk to you another time,’ Polly soothed, then looked back, tossing her key. ‘Go on, lock the door behind you. I’ll stop at John’s. Don’t you look at him. Just because he’s crying doesn’t mean he deserves your pity yet. He's pissed and ridiculous and still a complete arse - yeah?’

Nancy nodded, giving Polly a small smile, avoiding John’s gaze. He’d been so angry, then so upset. They were all so drunk. She fell into the door as she tried to lock it, chuckling to herself.

Then she just needed to lie down, so she did. She didn’t know how long she did, until arms were under her, lifting her.

‘Why’ve you been crying, Nance?’ Tommy asked in a low murmur, not even knowing if she could hear him or not. He sighed, holding her tighter when she wrapped her arms lazily around him. ‘Ey? Why’ve you been crying, my girl?’

‘John’s a bastard,’ she mumbled, muffled by his neck that she nuzzled into, sniffing deeply. ‘You smell like Dan used to sometimes.’

‘And you smell like whiskey and cigarettes,’ he said, wobbling a little as he secured her in his arms. ‘You holding on tight?’

‘You’ve got me,’ she said, and they moved up the stairs.

‘Where’s Pol?’ he murmured.

‘John’s.’

‘He walk you home?’

‘Sort of,’ she said as the reached the landing. ‘I feel bad you know, for taking your room. We should swap back.’

‘First thing in the morning,’ he replied shortly, moving into her room, setting her on the bed. She lay back, covering her eyes, and he pulled the curtains over to block the light. ‘What do you mean he sort of walked you home?’

‘He’s a dick, Tommy. So are you, but in different ways,’ she mumbled, eyes dropping closed.

He chuckled, sighing, moving to take off her shoes. ‘You’re finally getting it, Nance. We’re all our own breed of arseholes in this house. The sooner you catch on, the better.’

‘By the time I understand any of you I’ll be gone,’ she said, smiling to herself as he worked her feet from her shoes. Then he took hold of her hand and tugged her roughly to sitting. She glared at him, but he rose a brow, not meeting her eye, taking off her jacket.

‘My brother made you cry?’ he asked, as if continuing a conversation.

Closing one eyes to see him better, even in the dark of the room, she grimaced and said, ‘Yeah. I made him cry too though. Or Polly did. It was hard to tell. He smashed a glass.’

Tommy looked at her then, frowning. ‘Why?’

‘Stop asking me, Tommy. I’m too drunk, I’ll tell you everything,’ she complained, standing briefly for him to pull her coat out from under her. Then she was unbuttoning her dress, lifting it off over her head, pulling down her stockings and her underwear, turning and lifting her hair. ‘Take my necklace off, wont you, Mr Shelby?’

‘Think you’re funny, don’t you, Miss Owen?’ he asked, but did as she said, taking off her necklace and carefully placing it on the bedside. ‘Come on, into bed.’

‘Was that an invitation, Mr Shelby, or an order?’ she slurred, but lay back, squirming to get the blanket from under her, feeling Tommy’s hands on her thighs, pulling her slip dress back down when it lifted. She chuckled, but even her drunken brain knew that was a moment better ignored than remembered.

He set the blanket around her, sighing tiredly, tucking her in, watching her snuggle down. He brushed her hair from her face with his palm. ‘Did your brother used to put you to bed?’

‘Not drunk,’ she answered, eyes still closed. ‘He forgot about me a bit, after the war. He was different. He cared more about you, I think. Than he did about me. He called you his brother.’

‘He is a brother to me, he saved my life,’ he stated, starkly remembering as he gazed upon her. ‘Now I’ve gone and let his little sister get drunk, and let my own brother make her cry.’

‘You didn’t do anything,’ she said, then frowned. ‘Apart from kissing me. That was what set him off. And you did it on purpose.’

‘John can’t have you, and I’ve told him that, so he needs to get it in his head pretty quick before he loses it,’ Tommy said, mater of fact, hands still on her, eyes still on her. ‘We’re all fucked, Nancy.’

‘Rather be fucked with you lot, than fucked on my own. Than fucked for money too.’

He stroked her cheek, hushing her. ‘Don’t talk about it.’

‘It’s in my head all the time, Tommy. Every time I see a man looking at me, I wonder how he’d do it. If he’d be nice or not. If he’d hold me down. You know. Not in a way like I fancy them, not in a wanting way. I can’t help it. I just see them doing it, in that room back in that horrible house.’

‘Not in this house, I hope?’ he said, fingers at her hairline, stroking still, gaze following the motion. If he had been more sober, he’d have realised sooner what he was doing and snapped out of it. But he couldn’t help it. She was for caring for, was Nancy.

‘Sometimes,’ she said, but it came out small, quieter, more sober than the rest or her words that night. He realised her eyes had opened, and she had a deep frown on her face. Then she looked at him, and time stopped a moment, and he felt sick at what she might say, and what he might. But then she said, ‘You won’t kill John, will you?’

Tommy smiled, half relief, half amusement. ‘Depends what he did.’

‘He kissed me, then said I was his, not yours. I don’t like being a competition, Tommy. I don’t like feeling like I’m not a person. It’s hard enough being one at all.’

‘You’re a person, Nancy,’ he soothed, voice low, in that honeyed tone. ‘We’re people. And you’re not mine, and you’re not John’s. Not in the way he thinks, alright?’

‘What about how you think?’

He’d pulled back, finally. ‘You’re mine, mine to watch over. Yeah?’

‘You can be mine too, then,’ she said, smiling like a girl. ‘My hero.’

He smiled, breathing out a little laugh. ‘Time for sleep.’

‘Do you want a goodnight kiss?’ she asked, pulling herself up, resting back on her hands, blinking to see him.

Tommy was grinning. ‘Alright, as you are in debt to me for two now, best give me one.’

‘Can I not give you two now?’ she asked, hands on his shoulders, chuckling. She felt the vague sensation of his hands on her hips, steadying her, as he chuckled back.

‘No can do, Miss Owen. Debt is to be paid as per your payment plan, no early write offs.’

‘That’s criminal,’ she reasoned, smirking, thinking maybe she’d joked too far. But he laughed. Then she leaned in, kissing him firmly on the cheek. Then she slipped further into his arms, wrapping hers tightly around his neck, hugging him, for the first time. Hugging Thomas fucking Shelby. ‘Thank you, Tommy. For being mine – in whatever way you are.’

He was quiet a while, breathing the moment in. Then he pressed a kiss to her hair, over her ear, murmuring, ‘Thank you too, my girl.’

She pulled back, smiling at him in her way, laying back in her bed, feeling him tucking her in again. Then he was up, and out, glancing back at her from the door, watching her close her eyes and slip to sleep soundly, not a second thought on the matter.

Not a thought that she’d just sat on his bed, stripped off, hugged him, kissed him, teased him. He forced his mind to clear and wandered back down to the spare room, clicking his door shut gently behind him.

Chapter Text

There was a gentle knock on her door, and Nancy’s eyes blinked open, making her wince, covering them with her hands. ‘Yeah?’

‘It’s Tommy, Nance,’ he said softly through the door. She heard him sniff. ‘Are you decent for a visitor, love?’

‘Depends who it is,’ she mumbled, John’s raging face from the night before flashing in her mind.

The door clicked open lightly and someone stepped into the room, but when she looked to the door and Tommy was in the doorway, smiling softly at her, she looked to the person by the bed.

‘Dan?’ she gasped, throwing off her blanket, standing, wrapping her arms and legs around him, sobbing into his shoulder. ‘Dan!’

‘Hello, my Nancy,’ he greeted, chuckling lightly. ‘I came to wake Tommy up and found you here instead. I was right confused.’

Tommy watched her, the excitement on her face even with her eyes squeezed shut. ‘Your brother isn’t here for long, Nance. Quick visit, alright?’

‘Yeah,’ she said, looking at him over Danny’s shoulder. ‘Thank you, Tommy.’

He gave her a smile, closing the door lightly behind them.

‘How are you here?’ she asked Danny, climbing off him to sit on the bed, her hangover shocked out of her, apart from her shaking hands.

‘I came to fetch Tommy some bad news, bless him. I go back today. Wanted to see you first. I heard Rosie left,’ he said, frowning. ‘Probably for the best, for now. Tom says a few more months and I’ll maybe be able to write her, fetch her down to London. I’ve been saving up. Why didn’t you go with her, Nance? Gave me a bloody shock, you did.’

Giving him a pitiful smile, she plucked up one of his hands, holding it tight. ‘She didn’t ask me to go, Dan. I kept up my work, found myself in a bit of trouble. Tommy came and gave me his room, he’s been looking after me. Real well.’

‘You’re alright here?’ he asked, frowning a little. Danny would never speak bad about Tommy, but he couldn’t imagine the house on Watery Lane being a peaceful place.

‘I’m great here, Dan. I help out with the cooking, with Tommy’s nieces and nephews. I’m still working and everything,’ she promised, painting rainbows on her life.

‘You’re hungover,’ he accused lightly, but smiled, picking up her shaky hand. He didn't seem unhappy with her, just regretful. They were getting parts of her life that he'd never had. He felt separate from her in a way he hadn't realised he was before.

She groaned in confession, rubbing her eyes. ‘I might die, Dan. For real. Not pretending like you.’

He chuckled at that, tugging her in and holding her again. ‘I’m sorry, Nance. Sorry it all came to this. Sorry for the way I was before. I’ve been getting better, you know.’

‘I was helping you wrong, Tommy taught me that,’ she said, stroking her hand on the back of his head. ‘I was loving you too hard, not thinking about myself.’

‘That’s your way, Nance. Always was,’ he said, kissing her cheek as he pulled away. ‘The Shelby’s been treating you well?’

‘Of course,’ she promised, the glass smashing against the wall flashing in her mind, Tommy’s glare, her shouting. ‘They’re like family, Dan.’

‘Tommy’s taken with you,’ he said with a small smile, unsaid words hidden behind it’s timidness. ‘You’ll be careful, wont you?’

‘He doesn’t let me near anything, Dan. Say’s he wants to keep my hands clean,’ she assured him, and assured him twice more before he went.

She stood in the middle of her room, wiping her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself. She couldn’t tell how long she stood there, or how long Tommy was at the door, watching her.

‘Nance.’

Looking up, sucking in her bottom lip to bite, she hummed in response.

‘You feeling alright?’

She nodded, frowning a little. ‘Glad to see him, sad he’s gone. Starving.’

He smirked at her, looking her over. ‘Get dressed, I’ll take you for breakfast.’

Not once, in her entire life, had Nancy been taken to breakfast. She put on a new dress, that she hadn’t worn yet, and fixed her hair as best she could, putting on barely any make up as her stomach rumbled so much she thought she might be sick if she didn’t eat soon.

She moved down the stairs, hearing Polly’s voice, and Arthur’s. She set a smile on her face, finding them in the living room, John walking through from the kitchen with a bacon sandwich in one hand, a cigarette in the other.

‘Oh, someone is spritely this morning,’ Polly said in a croak, wiping at her under eyes. ‘To be young again.’

Nancy chuckled, not daring to look at John. ‘Good morning!’

‘Where you off to looking so pretty?’ Arthur asked, giving her cheek a kiss and looking her over.

‘Tommy’s taking her to breakfast,’ Polly said, smiling at Nancy, letting her know it was okay. Her eyes flickered to John who chuckled without humour, shaking his head.

‘Course he is, you make sure you tell him all about how much of a prick I am, won’t you, princess?’

‘Leave it, John,’ his brother said, sighing and moving away from the girl, back to his cuppa.

‘See if he’ll buy you another nice dress too while you’re out,’ John said with a nasty glare.

‘We can stop by the dress shop while we’re out,’ Tommy agreed, standing in the open doorway to the street, leather gloves on his fingers, cigarette between them. ‘Anything to cheer up our Nancy.’

‘Don’t really feel like I need cheering up, to be honest,’ she said, giving John a disappointed look. ‘Maybe a strong drink and a good breakfast and I’ll be right.’

‘Good lass,’ Arthur said in a light cheer.

Polly looked between the brothers, who held each others gaze for a long stretch, Tommy blank, staring right through John, and John with a clenching jaw. ‘Right. Whatever needs to be said can be said when my head stops banging.’

John rose a defiant brow, but Tommy dragged his eyes away from him and to Nancy, looking her over.

‘Come on, sweetheart,’ he said lowly, nodding her out the door, waiting for her to step outside before lifting his head, looking back into the room. He set his gaze on John. ‘I don’t want to argue with you, I’m just gonna say that I told you to keep your fucking hands off her. You’re lucky I’d gone home when you had your tantrum in the pub.’

John scoffed. ‘You know fuck all about it.’

‘Harry said he heard every word you said, which must have meant you were shouting pretty fucking loud, John. At her. In the fucking snug,’ his finger pointed then, his eyes wide. ‘Sort yourself out. Or I’ll do it for you, yeah?’

‘She thinks you’re a fucking prick n’all, Tommy,’ John spat.

‘Yeah, I know. But I’m a prick for her sake, not my own, John,’ Tommy reasoned calmly, giving his brother a softer look of pity before he stepped out, closing the door behind him. He smiled at Nancy in the car, who was inspecting the inside with great interest. ‘You’ve not been in a car?’

‘Only when you brought me here first time,’ she admitted, looking around her still. ‘Didn’t have much chance to see it then.’

‘Well, this is new,’ he said with a proud smile, starting it up. ‘Ready?’

‘Yep!’

Tommy chuckled, setting off, and driving far down and away from Watery Lane. He only smiled as she looked out the window, observing everything around her in awe.

‘I’ve never really been away from our few streets,’ she said, looking at him. ‘How far are we driving?’

‘Not far,’ he said with a shrug, and twenty minutes later they were sat in a café, awaiting their food. He observed her again, the way she looked around, touching the things on the table. ‘Never been in a café, either?’

She frowned a little. ‘With Pol, but not like this.’

He smiled. He was pleased, to be the first to show her things. ‘Listen, I want to talk to you about something.’

Pressing her lips together, forcing herself to focus on him, she nodded for him to go on.

‘Business if getting more legitimate by the day, Nance. I know I always say I want your hands out of it, clean. But I want you earning a proper wage. I know it’s important for you to have your own money, and I want to give that to you. So you can be your own person.’

She took a steadying breath. ‘Okay.’

He smiled a little. ‘I want you to be assistant for us. I’ve told John the kids can get themselves to school now. You’ll still have time for Keith and Ken’s books, still be able to help out Pol.’

‘What would I be doing?’ she asked, smiling at him simply. Sweetly.

He smiled back, he couldn’t help it. ‘Anything, really. No dirty work. Just anything we need, that I think you’d be best at. You’re good at writing, counting. I know that. Organising. Talking to folk. People like you.’

‘Most people,’ she said with a tilt of her head, grinning. ‘How much will you pay me?’

He smirked at her, the way her eyes watched him over the top of her cup, and his fingers tapped on the chair beside him where he’d stretched his arm over it. ‘How much would you like?’

She rose a brow, setting down her drink with care. ‘I asked you first?’

‘How much do you think you’re worth?’ he countered, playing along.

She squinted at him. ‘How much do you think?’

His smile froze a little, but remained, and he looked down, licking his lips. Then he took out a pen, writing a number down on the side of a cigarette and holding it out to her.

‘A week?’ she said once she'd taken it, twisting it in her fingers, brows raised.

‘A day,’ he confirmed, quite serious now.

‘Tommy, that’s too much for anything I’m capable of,’ she said, shaking her head, slipping it back across the table to him.

He pushed it back. ‘Yours if you want it, Nance. I’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to.’

‘Nothing dirty?’ she asked, face all innocent, holding the cigarette between her fingers, looking up from the number to him.

He smirked, eyes holding hers. ‘Maybe a little – nothing chargeable.’

She tried to stop it, but she grinned. Tommy took that as his sign and slipped the matches over to her, watching her hands and her mouth as she lit it. She sent him a grin.

‘Congratulations,’ he said, lighting his own and nodding to her. ‘Your visitor was ready to knife me this morning.’

She laughed at that, tapping her ash away. ‘He said he’d been surprised.’

‘Surprised – I was almost a dead man,’ he said with a chuckle, shaking his head fondly. ‘I’d say I’m surprised you didn’t wake up to the sound of his death threats, but considering how drunk you were…’

‘Stop it,’ she growled, looking away, smirking still.

‘We had a nice conversation.’

‘Stop it, Tommy,’ she said with a glare, her cheeks burning. ‘I was ridiculous.’

‘You were lovely as always and you know it,’ he said, leaning on the table to grin at her embarrassment. ‘I was out of it too. Don’t worry. It’s all a blur. Especially the part where you took your dress off and lost control of your slip.’

Leaning across the table, she slapped his arm, making him laugh, loudly. A few eyes looked over, inspecting the couple, but Tommy barely noticed.

‘I’m joking, I’m joking,’ he said, a few last chuckles escaping him, unable to fight his smile as he watched her covering her blushing cheeks. ‘You were lovely, Nancy. Really.’

‘I was awful,’ she said, shaking her head, but grinning. ‘I shouted at John.’

‘John shouted at you too.’

‘He threw a glass,’ she said in surprise, as if she’d just properly remembered. ‘God. I’m not drinking with Polly ever again.’

‘You can drink with me and Arthur next time. You can use that smile of yours to keep him out of scraps,’ he said as the waitress approached, keeping his gaze on her, smirking like a boy.

‘Good morning, what can I get for you?’ she asked, smiling to Nancy first.

‘Oh – ah.’

‘More tea, eggs, sausages,’ he listed, looking to Nancy who nodded, ‘toast.’

‘Please,’ Nancy added, smiling softly, watching the woman walk away, then spotting the cakes on the counter. ‘Can I have an advance on my wages for cake?’

‘Hows about I buy you the cake and you forgive me for winding up my brother?’

‘Are you apologising?’ she asked, squinting at him.

Tommy mocked mulling it over, lip pushing out, head tilting side to side. ‘In a way.’

‘I think I’d like a proper one, if we’re weighing it’s worth against a good slice of cake,’ she reasoned.

‘Would you like me to get on my knees for it?’

She smirked. ‘I think seated will suffice. You’ve a reputation to uphold, after all.’

Tommy smiled in his small way at her - that most others wouldn't even recognise as a smile - for a good long while, then straightened in his seat, clearing his throat. ‘Nancy Owen, I apologise for using you to get at my brother last night. He irritated me and I was a drunken fool. Yeah?’

‘Yeah, that’ll do.'

He rose his brows. ‘I’m forgiven?’

‘We will see how good the cake is,’ she decided after a hum, looking back down at the menu, then glancing back up to him, finding his eyes still on her, smiling.

____________

Tommy drove them back to town, but to the Garrison. He held the door open, glancing up behind the bar to see Grace there, as she always was, haunting the place. When Nancy slipped in under his arm, she looked away.

‘Whiskey,’ he ordered once he got to the bar, looking down to Nancy expectantly.

‘Oh, yeah, go on, please,’ she stumbled over her words. Being in the very place she acted so ridiculous in was making her cringe.

‘Are you alright after last night, Nancy? You all left pretty quick after, I was going to check up with you,’ Grace said softly as she poured their glasses, glancing to Tommy to see his reaction, but he was blank faced, all knowing.

‘Oh yeah, just a silly tiff,’ she said, waving her off. Tommy was smiling softly at her, and she frowned at him in question.

‘Come on, I’ll show you the office.’

‘Office?’ she asked as he carried both drinks, walking past her and to the doors at the other end of the room. He leaned back on them, smirking a little, letting her walk in in front of him, then slipping inside, a final glance to the barmaid to see her looking the other way.

He handed her the glass, drinking his own in one mouthful, then showed her the stacks of papers and big thick book on the desk. ‘Now, Arthur, as we know and love him, is no good at anything like school. He’s best at drinking and fighting and making a tit of himself – and me.’

She giggled, looking at the book he was filing through.

‘I need this sorted, Nance. He needs it sorted, and for the love of god, I know you’re the girl to do it,’ he said. ‘Come in here, however many mornings a week you like, getting all this in order. I don’t want you working here after four, yeah? Even better, after one.’

She nodded, looking through the scribbled words. ‘It’s a mess, Tommy.’

He hummed. ‘Drink your whiskey. Hangover will be gone, and we can all move on from last night.’

‘I have a feeling John won’t have moved on yet,’ she said, glancing up at him and away just as fast.

Tommy’s brows were raised, his eyes set on something not in the room. ‘John isn’t allowed to try shag employees anyhow. So now you’re off limits twice over.’

‘He’s already done it, you know,’ she said, rolling her eyes.

‘I’d rather not think about that. Come on, we’re not working now,’ he said, opening the door and gesturing her out. He put both glasses on the bar.

‘Thank you,’ Nancy said with a smile, following him closely away from the woman and out the door. ‘I get a bad feeling, Tommy.’

‘So does Pol,’ he said, offering her back in the car. ‘Seamstress?’

‘Depends, are you going to make me happy, or to piss John off?’

‘Can’t I want both?’ he asked, smirking a little, but she frowned. ‘Listen. The night you came. I told John. A few nights later, I told him again. And once or twice more when I’ve caught him staring.’

‘Why did you leave me in the pub with him then?’

Tommy was looking forward, reminding himself of the night. ‘I wanted to go home, really wanted to go home. I knew you’d argue. You were smiling, having fun. I didn’t want to be the one to spoil it – for once.’

‘You’re plenty fun, you know. You just do it in secret. You laugh so much, Tommy. But when there is anyone else around you turn it off,’ she said, staring until he looked at her.

‘Maybe you get too shy to make me laugh when we’re around the others,’ he suggested, gazing at her, wide eyed. ‘No one else understands us, Nancy. The way it is. The way we laugh. Don’t you think?’

‘Yeah, I guess so,’ she said, touching his arm. ‘I like having this Tommy all to myself anyways. Let everyone else think you’re grumpy. More for me.’

He chuckled, shaking his head and starting up the car. ‘You’re bloody mental.’

‘I think we established a while ago that it’s you that’s mental, Tommy Shelby.’

‘Must be to put up with you, my girl,’ he said, smirking, stretching his arm across the back rest, putting his fingers gently to the back of her neck, his thumb gently moving along the soft skin there.

Nancy smiled at him, the sun skittering across the buildings behind her as they passed down the street, turning a corner and it lit up her face in gold, and she shone.

___________

Sometime, she supposed Tommy and John must have spoken, because they were brothers again, and John had gone back to avoiding her eye, stealing glances when he could. Though he was rarely in the same room as her, the kids showed up a few times just to visit, smirking when she asked if they’d been to school every day.

Teddy asked if she could start taking them again, but Joanna let slip that, ‘Uncle Tommy told us we have to go on our own.’

She just smiled, telling them she was working for Uncle Tommy now, and didn’t have time. But that she was always around for visits.

She was in the kitchen with Polly, singing while Pol chopped veg. Tommy, who would usually march into the room, paused at the doorway, smiling a little. ‘Family meeting, girls.’

Pol looked up, raising a brow, looking back to Nancy, who’d stopped singing and moved to start peeling potatoes. ‘He means you too.’

Nancy looked up, frowning a little, but wiped her hands on her apron and moving through to the living room, finding Arthur and John sat already. She lingered at the edge of the room, feeling out of place.

‘Right,’ Tommy started, then looked back to her, sighing, gripping her arm and pulling her into the arm chair beside him. ‘As we know, the Lee’s are a big fucking problem. I’ve been to see them.’

Polly straightened in her seat, listening close.

‘They’ve asked for a couple of things. One I’ve written off, another that could be considered.’

‘Tell us both,’ Polly demanded flatly.

Tommy shook his head. ‘No. They’ve got a girl, gone a little off the rails. Needs a husband.’

‘I hope that’s the one you’ve fucking written off,’ John grumbled, frowning at the way his brother looked at him.

‘No, John,’ Tommy said firmly. ‘That’s what we’re going with.’

John and Arthur looked at each other, expressions darkening.

‘Can we not pay them off, Tom?’ Polly asked, but he shook his head. ‘Well what else could they want?’

Tommy licked his lips, glancing down.

‘Go on, Tom, tell us,’ Arthur said darkly, ready to march to the Lee’s himself.

‘One of the Lee boys caught sights on Nancy while they were here planting the wire cutters. Wants a go with her,’ he said, looking to Nancy breifly. ‘I told them to fuck off.’

‘Nancy? One girl for one night – for a whole war?’

‘They think I’m Tommy’s whore, Pol. If they had me it would be like having one up on him,’ Nancy said softly, and John scoffed, pushing away from his seat, pacing the room a little.

‘I told them no, John,’ Tommy assured him calmly. ‘Now, you’ve got kids, Johnny. Kids that need looking after.’

‘Are you fucking joking, Tommy?’ Arthur asked, shaking his head. ‘Let’s go fucking get them! Talking bout Nance that way, doing what they did here – we shouldn’t be negotiating with the fuckers.’

Tommy sighed, hand to his forehead. Then he spoke low. ‘Right. Well if neither of you will agree, then we’ll have to fight. Saturday. Yeah?’

Polly was lighting up, nervously, looking to John, frowning at him. ‘John – wont you just think-’

‘I’m not fucking marrying one of them!’ he yelled, ‘My kids are doing fucking fine, and so am I!’

‘John-’

‘Don’t fucking talk to me, Tommy! Not – not till fucking later, alright?’ he said, sending a final glance to Nancy, shaking his head, leaving the house, lighting a cigarette on his way out.

‘Fucking hell, Tom.’

He sighed. ‘Was trying to avoid a fight, Arthur.’

Polly looked at Nancy, who gazed forward, remembering the day with the Lee’s, wondering which man it would be. ‘Stop thinking about it, love. You’re not going anywhere near them.’

Tommy looked to Nancy, eyes firm. ‘Don't you worry, Nancy. I just wanted to keep you in the loop. Get back to your cooking.’

‘You’ll be having dinner then, will you?’ Polly asked, raising a brow at him.

‘Promised Nancy I would,’ he said in defence, sighing when Polly gave him a meaningful look before she followed Nancy to the kitchen. He ran his hand over his hair. ‘Fucking hell, Arthur. What am I doing?’

‘Couldn’t bloody tell ya, Tommy. But I’m with ya. John too. He just needs to cool off.’

Tommy smiled at his brother, giving him a pat on the shoulder, hoping he was right.

___________

Nancy hummed to herself as she worked, looking up as Arthur entered the office, carrying a crate of cigarettes. ‘Here you go, Nance.’

Grace followed, bringing a pot of tea, apologising when she found them both in there.

‘No bother, Grace. You carry on, love,’ Arthur said, beckoning her in. ‘Here, Nancy-girl. You take these back to the house when you go.’

She picked up a couple of boxes. ‘Arthur, these are half eaten.’

‘Yeah, well you find somewhere on the docks that has no rats, Nance. Tommy’ll pay you double,’ he said with a wink, making her laugh.

‘Why keep them on the docks if there’s rats?’ Grace asked, holding her tray in front of her, eyes scanning the books as Nancy carried on working.

‘Keep the contraband at the docks, Grace, easy get away. Junctions – then there’s two ways to run them,’ he said, tapping the side of his nose. He looked down to Nancy’s work and kissed the top of her head. ‘You’re an angel, Nancy. An angel!’

She laughed, shaking her head as he left the room, but her mind was ticking over. ‘Thanks for the tea, Grace.’

‘Do you not find it a bit much, all the crime, all the secrets?’

‘I make it my business to know as little secrets as possible,’ Nancy said with meaning, looking up with a smile. ‘I don’t ask questions.’

Grace’s smile tightened, and she nodded, moving from the room.

And at one, Nancy went straight to Tommy. She knocked on his door, now back in his own room. He was buttoning his shirt, fresh out of the bath.

‘How’s it going, Nance? You were at the Garrison?’

‘Yeah,’ she said, stepping into the room, glancing at where the white shirt stuck to his skin at the middle of his back then back to his eyes in the mirror. ‘I wanted to tell you something.’

He turned, nodding for her to continue, unzipping his trousers to tuck his shirt in properly.

‘Just Grace…she was asking a lot of questions today. About contraband.’

‘Asking you?’

‘Arthur,’ she said, with a shake of her head. ‘I’m not trying to grass him in, he told her you keep things at junctions on the cannels. That’s all. But she was pushing. She’s always lingering around, eyes on the books whenever she’s bringing me tea or a drink – which I never ask for.’

He sighed as he zipped up, setting his hands on his hips. ‘Right.’

‘Sorry, I feel like I’m being a rat,’ she said, sitting on the bed, watching him going about his business. It was fascinating, seeing him in his own space, readying himself for the rest of the day. She wondered what he’d done that morning to make him wash and change in the middle of the day, but decided she’d rather not know.

‘You’re a sweetheart, Nancy, alright?’ He chucked her under the chin. ‘You tell me if you ever see something you don’t like. I’ve told you before.’

She smiled a little, looking him over. ‘You look smart.’

Tommy smiled too. ‘Thank you, love.’

‘I’m worried about Saturday,’ she admitted lightly, watching him, but he didn’t react. ‘Should I not be?’

‘Nah,’ he said with a shrug. ‘It’ll be right.’

‘Alright,’ she replied, picking herself up off the bed. He was being short. He was busy, but didn't want to be rude to her, she could tell. ‘Enjoying having your room back?’

‘Smells like you in here,’ he said, touching her back to lead her out. ‘Listen, let’s go for a drink later, yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ she agreed, letting him pass her, as he was clearly on the move out. She wanted to ask him where he was going sometimes, but she knew she was better not knowing.

Later, he’d arrive back, calling through the house, ‘Nancy?’

Polly watched her pulling on her coat, frowning a little. ‘Hope you know what you’re doing, Nance.’

‘I’m not doing anything, Pol,’ she replied with a simple smile.

She got back late, after laughing the night away with Tommy, who’d looked like he needed cheered up. She soon had him laughing though. They walked back to Watery with grins, and he lead her back into the house and at the bottom of the stairs asked, ‘Not needing carried tonight?’

‘I think I’ll manage,’ she said with a roll of her eyes, though slipped off her shoes as to not wake Polly or Finn. Tommy’s door came first, so she stopped to let him pass in front of her, but he stopped behind her, hands lightly on her waist.

‘Not wanting tucked in either?’

She smiled a little, turning her head to squint at his smirk. ‘Not ready for the night to end?’

Tommy glanced at his room, looking haunted for a moment, then to her. ‘Come on.’

She walked the distance to her room, setting down her bag, taking off her coat. Tommy shut the door behind him, leaning back against it, watching her ready herself, stepping out of her dress and hanging it over the back of the small wardrobe door. She sent him a timid little look, slipping out of her stockings and her underwear, throwing them into the wardrobe then reaching up, unclasping her necklace and setting it on the small shelf in the room.

‘You need a better room,’ he said, eyes on her as she removed her make up.

‘One day I’m gonna live in a great big house, with so many rooms I don’t know what to do with,’ she said, ‘I’ve dreamt it.’

He chuckled, low like a whisper. ‘Yeah? How you gonna do that?’

‘I don’t know yet. Either that, or a little cottage somewhere, out in the country,’ she decided, looking to him. ‘Where would you live, if you could live anywhere?’

He shook his head, lazily, but smiling at her. ‘Bed.’

She complied, laying back, laughing as he leaned over her, putting the blanket over her. She took a breath. ‘I’m going to go see Kenny in the morning, just for a chat. Then maybe the shops. Is that alright?’

‘Course,’ he said, smiling softly. ‘Home for lunch?’

‘I was going to go see if Ada wanted to spend some time,’ she said. ‘If she does, I’ll do her some dinner.’

Ada had been keeping herself strictly hidden away from her brothers, but Nancy could sometimes force her way in under the strict rule that Tommy wasn't allowed to ask her too much, or make her say anything, and Ada only liked her having girl's talk - nothing serious, nothing Shelby.

Tommy softened again, tucking her hair behind her ear. ‘You’re too good, Nancy.’

‘I’m just good, not too much for anything,’ she said, smirking when he lightly rolled his eyes. Then she sat up, leaning in fast to kiss his cheek, landing at the corner of his mouth by accident. She flushed as she pulled away. ‘My debts are paid, Thomas Shelby.’

He leaned over, pressing one to her forehead, then pulling back to whisper, ‘Not quite.’

She pushed him away, making him laugh like a boy, and he left the room, saying, ‘Night, sweetheart.’

‘Night, Tom,’ she called, unaware that on the other side of the door, he’d been met with Polly’s dark expression from where she stood, arms crossed in her own bedroom doorway.

‘Suppose I should be glad you’re not sleeping in there,’ she whispered with venom.

‘Leave it, Pol,’ he groaned. ‘Stop fucking watching every move I make.’

‘Why? You watch all of ours.’

He sent her a sharp look, moving into his own room and closing the door behind him.

Chapter Text

‘Are you sure, Nancy?’ Kenny asked, frowning a little, looking out to the field.

‘Yeah, they’re friends of Tommy’s,’ she said, waving him off through the car window. ‘I’ve been a thousand times before.’

Kenny eyed her, then the caravans in the distance. He swallowed. ‘Alright, Nance. Don’t give me your money, it’s alright. You just look after yourself. I’ll be back here in an hour, yeah? I’m just going to drive out to the lake, have a walk. That’s okay?’

She gave him her smile, which settled him a bit, but not enough. Then she set off through the field. The grass scratched at her bare legs, but she paid it no mind. She was too set on her goal.

‘Who are you?’

‘That’s Tommy Shelby’s girl,’ another voice came. Outside the camp, three men sat with guns, squinting at her in the sun.

‘He’s sent you, then?’

Nancy took a breath. ‘Yeah, he sent me. Who am I going to?’

The men laughed amongst themselves, gleeful, if anything. Then one walked out to her. ‘Come with me, love. What’s your name?’

‘Nancy,’ she said. Her legs were weak, her hands shaking a little, a fluttering in her chest. But she marched on.

‘Oi, Tommy Shelby’s sent you a gift!’

__________

Nancy had bought pies, carrying them gripped in her hand, readying herself. Her heart was hammering, hard in her chest. She’d been to Ada’s, not managed to get inside, but gave it a good long try. Then she’d wandered a little, bought the pies, bought a few more things, to look like she’d been busy.

But now she was on Watery Lane, eyes on the house, the door open. The door open was never good. It meant there were plenty of people in there for them to not be worried about anyone walking in.

She took breaths, heart squeezing. She would either be sick or faint, she thought. But she was brave. She knew they’d know eventually. But a day to recover, a few hours, at least, would do. Just a night’s sleep. Then she’d be ready to face them.

‘Nancy-girl,’ Arthur greeted with his usual swagger. ‘Seen Tom?’

‘No,’ she breathed, not looking him in the eye.

‘You alright there, love?’

She patted his chest, looking up to the room, eyes flitting around. Polly was frowning at her. ‘I’m going for a bath, Pol. I picked up some pies for dinner. I’m not feeling well.’

Polly nodded, frowning, but nodded, taking the packages.

Nancy shakily moved through the house, finding John in the kitchen. She hadn’t been alone with him since. It barely mattered to her, though. ‘Hello.’

‘You alright?’ he asked, concerned, looking at her properly for the first time since their argument. His nose was all scrunched up, his eyes all concerned. They knew her now, knew when she wasn't right - and she was always right, was Nancy.

Nancy waved him off, nodding. She took herself to the bath and scrubbed, scrubbed for all of England. And she cried, only a little. Then she took herself to bed.

She hoped to sleep, but she could only gaze at the ceiling, so she dressed in fresh clothes, brushing out her hair and pinning it back. She even put make up on. Anything to feel more herself, less nervous. Her hands trembled.

‘Need help?’ she asked, poking her head into the kitchen, but Polly wasn’t cooking. She was drinking.

‘Oh, yeah. Get your coat on, let’s go,’ she said, without room for argument.

They walked to the Garrison, not saying much, and before Polly could walk them to the back room, Nancy suggested a table. More witnesses, less likely for intense conversation.

But Polly was stressed herself. She wanted light hearted conversation. They were silent for most of it, talking about light things. She asked a few questions about Nancy’s life growing up, which Nancy asked in return. Simple, meaningless chatter. Neither of them wanted much else. When John and Arthur came in, they only tipped their hats, having their own conversation as they waited for their drinks.

‘Here we go,’ Polly sighed a whiles later, watching Tommy enter, his eyes blown wide and wild. He beelined for the brothers. ‘Whatever is going on, I want nothing of it. I’m sick of the chaos. Give me a day’s rest. Just a day. Bloody hell, you’ve gone white.’

Tommy was murmuring to John and Arthur, unable to stand still, hands clenching, feet pacing. Their faces were confused, concerned, then John pulled a look of utter disgust, glancing Nancy’s way, nodding in gesture.

Her heart stopped, it stopped, then thumped so harshly that it rocked her in her seat.

He was murderous.

‘Everybody out – now!’

‘Get the fuck out!’ Arthur yelled, but everyone had scattered when Tommy roared, chairs scraping, people pushing.

He paced, as John drank, glaring at the bar, and Arthur smoothed his hair back, over and over. Then, the moment the door was closed, Tommy lifted up a chair and launched it across the pub.

‘Tommy, what the bloody hell is going on?’ Polly asked as he marched to them.

‘Our little Nancy here took herself a visit to the Lee’s this morning. Playing peacemaker – playing Tommy Shelby’s fucking whore!’ He was bent to her, face right in hers. His voice was loud, trembling a little under the weight of his rage, breathy but firm. Terrifying, truly. Raw. ‘I told you no, Nancy. I said it wasn’t fucking happening. And you fucking took yourself down there and let him fuck you, didn’t you? Ey?’

‘Yes, Tommy,’ she said quietly, voice wavering as he glazed eyes flickered between his. ‘I just-’

He pushed away from the table, pacing in a round, then coming back to her, crouching next to her seat, face close to hers again. ‘Tell me, did they do it in a caravan, or out in the field while they all watched? Was he kind? Or did he hold you down?’

‘Stop it, Tommy,’ she sobbed, pushing him away, but he didn’t budge, only stared at her, daring her to do it again.

‘Did. He. Hold. You. Down?’ he asked, finger tapping firmly on the table with every word.

Polly made a noise of disgust, looking away. But Tommy wouldn’t. Wouldn’t take his eyes off her.

‘Did he?!’ he yelled, right in her face.

‘No!’ she yelled back, starting to cry. Her tears, for once, didn't soften him.

‘Why not? Why didn’t he, Nancy?’

Taking a few shaking breaths, she met his eyes, crumbling at the look of disgust and disappointment he gave her. Her confession was so close to silent it was almost unheard: ‘He didn’t have to.’

‘Leave off her, Tom,’ Arthur blurted uncomfortably, nerves in his voice. ‘Come away, let her catch her breath.’

‘It’s your fucking fault anyways,’ John said darkly when Tommy didn’t rise.

Nancy couldn’t look away from Tommy, they way his eyes watched her face, the way his murderous look turned sadistic at John’s words. He slowly rose, turning himself to look to where John stood by the bar.

‘What’s that, Johnny?’ he asked, quiet again, but that was scarier than him shouting.

‘You fucking made her do it,’ he said with a disgusted sneer. ‘You pulled her into that meeting, yeah, and said it in front of her because you knew she’d do it for you. She’s a fucking sweetheart, Tommy. You knew she’d do it. You just didn’t want to fucking ask her because you knew she’d say yes then it would be on your hands.’

Tommy was shaking his head. His voice was warning, ‘You’re twisting it, John.’

But Nancy was gazing at Tommy, wondering why, of all the family meetings, she had been brought into that one.

‘I’m fucking not!’ John roared, shoving Tommy, once, twice. ‘She’s a sweetheart, Tom and you knew she’d do it for you – for me, for all of us. Fucking sweetheart, Tommy. Too good for you and you know it.’

Tommy shoved John back, and before the first punch could be thrown, Arthur was stepping between them, but Tommy was roaring, ‘I’d never do anything – anything – to put her in harms way and you fucking know it, John!’

‘You say that, but you use all of us to save your own skin, Tommy. She’s no fucking different. You like to think she is, but she isn’t. You’ve whored her out to save your neck.’

‘If I did do this, which I didn’t, it would be your neck I’d have saved! It would be you I’d have chosen!’

‘Well I wish you fucking hadn’t!’

Silence fell. Polly had set a hand on Nancy’s arm, holding her tightly, making sure she didn’t do either stupid thing, like walking out, or walking between them.

‘Nancy,’ Polly mumbled, throat closed over, her own heart thrumming. ‘Let’s get you home.’

Tommy turned, pointing. ‘She’s not going fucking anywhere. You go home, Polly.’

‘I’m not going anywhere, Thomas Shelby. Not until you all calm down. Separate, now. Ten feet.’

John put hands up, glaring at the ground, but stepping back. He was glaring so hatefully at Tommy that Nancy wasn’t sure he wouldn’t lunge for him.

Tommy lowered his hand, straightening his coat. He looked down to the ground, grinding his teeth a moment, closing his eyes. ‘Come on, Nancy.’

Nancy looked to Polly, desperately.

‘Don’t fucking look at her – come ere,’ Tommy ordered quietly, looking at her now expectantly. His eyes were still blown wide, his lips lightly parted, waiting for her to deny him.

John sneered when she rose, moving on timid legs towards him.

Polly stood, saying soft and serious, ‘Tommy.’

He didn’t look away from Nancy, waiting until she was in front of him. He was breathing heavy. He didn’t know what to do now he had her. ‘All of you go home.’

‘You’re fucked if you think I’m leaving you alone with her now,’ John warned.

Tommy clenched his jaw. ‘Right then. Am I gonna drag you out or are you going to walk?’

Nancy shook her head. ‘I’ll walk.’

‘Nancy, don’t take a fucking step,’ John yelled desperately, but she was already walking ahead of Tommy. ‘Nancy!’

Tommy span, shoving his brother back. ‘Back off, John. Back the fuck off now or I’ll give you the beating I’d be giving her if she were a man.’

‘Tommy,’ Polly gasped, frowning at him. Her usual bravado was gone, she was whittled down to a whimper. Nervous, and showing it.

He closed his mouth, looking a little disappointed with himself, but not enough to shadow the warning glare he sent his brother before turning and leaving the pub. ‘Get in the car.’

John and Arthur followed out, John rushing as Tommy got in the other side.

Nancy shook her head at him. ‘I’m okay,’ she called out. ‘I’m okay.’

‘Don’t fucking do anything, Tommy,’ John begged, reaching them as car started to rumble. He was like a savage dog, barking at the door, just too far to open it. ‘Don’t you dare fucking touch her!’

Tommy barely glanced over, setting off down the road, the eyes of the people in the street not phasing him at all.

Nancy sat in silence, closing her eyes with every bump in the road. She took soothing breaths, wiping the tears from her eyes, wishing she wasn’t such a coward and could stop crying all the time. but there was something exhausting about living with the Shelby's, even for her, who saw the light in everything. She was tired.

When they started coming out of the city, she swallowed, the car starting to move faster. Her voice came out husky, quiet, ‘Where are we going, Tommy?’

He didn’t answer, so she looked at him. Tommy had his hands tight on the wheel, his eyes glazed over.

‘Tommy?’ she asked, chin trembling. ‘You’re scaring me.’

‘Maybe you need to be a little scared, Nancy.’ Tommy’s eyes had gone half hooded, his face relaxed to a grim expression. He looked at her, for too long while he was driving, then back at the road, driving faster still. ‘You’ve made me look a fucking fool.’

‘Better to be a fool alive than a fool dead.’

‘I’d rather be fucking dead, Nancy! Than having you whoring – FOR ME. For me! Lying in a fucking caravan with your legs open.’

She flinched. ‘Can you slow down, Tommy? I know you’re mad, I know you are. But please. I don’t like this.’

‘I don’t like this either,’ he said, looking at her, teeth clenched, eyes away from the road again.

Nancy scrambled in the seat towards him, hands reaching for the wheel, but he kept batting her away. ‘Please stop, Tommy. Please stop!’

‘Get fucking off me!’ he yelled, shoving her back against the seat, holding her there. He felt the wheels slip a little and looked up to the water in the road. ‘Fuck.’

The car skidded to a halt, Nancy clutching onto the seat, Tommy panicked, sobered. They heaved their breaths, the only sound. Tommy’s hand was still on her chest, and beneath her breathing, he could feel her heart rapidly pumping blood through her body.

‘We’re okay,’ he said in a breath, taking a deep one, unable to catch it. ‘Fucking hell.’

She looked at him when he released her, watching him put his knuckles to his eyes, squeezing his teeth together so tightly that he shook. ‘Tommy,’ she whispered, reaching for him.

His hands came down, and he was blinking. ‘Don’t, Nancy. Not yet.’

He took out a cigarette, lighting it, and leaned back against the seat, silent, calm, almost serene. And she trembled. She couldn’t cry any more, not with the shock in her system.

‘Where were we going, Tommy?’ she asked softly, frightened.

He shrugged, sniffing, looking at her. ‘You agree with John?’

‘No, Tommy,’ she whimpered. ‘I just thought I was doing what was best for everyone. You obviously didn’t want me to.’

‘What if I did?’ he asked her, lips turning down at the sides, his brow scrunching together. Then, for the first time she’d witness, he sounded like he might cry. ‘What if I did, without thinking it myself, and I made you do it without even planning it? Ey? What then?’

‘You didn’t,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘You know your mind, Tommy. I know you. You wouldn’t.’

He grimaced, looking out the window, away from her. Looking at anything that wasn’t her.

‘I knew as soon as the meeting was over that I would do it,’ she said gently, looking out the window too.

‘For John.’

Turning, meeting his eye, she shook her head. ‘Not like that.’

He didn’t react, not an inch. ‘Did you not think that I might have a problem with you whoring yourself out to the Lee’s?’

‘I thought you were protecting me, Tommy. But imagine all the men I’d have had if you hadn’t got me when you did. I’d still be at the brothel,’ she said, sitting on her feet, kneeling towards him. ‘What’s one man in return from saving me from the many?’

His face flashed in pain. ‘I didn’t fucking want you to, Nancy.’

‘I’m sorry I let them think they’ve got the one up,’ she said, genuinely, ‘I’m sorry. They haven’t. Because I went willing. And I’m not your whore.’

‘They think you are though.’

‘Who cares? I won’t be in Birmingham forever. You’ll have peace with them, I’ll move along, have a new life. While I’m here I’ll do what I can for you. Let them have this tiny thing, Tom.’

‘It’s not tiny, Nance,’ he sighed, shaking his head, tapping his foot against the floor rapidly. ‘It’s not tiny. It’s you. It’s you fucking yourself over for me and thinking I might have made you do it.’

‘No one makes me do anything,’ she said then, firmly and he looked at her. ‘I chose to do that, Tommy. Chose to get in the car too.’

‘Because you were scared of me, another mistake I’ve made.’

She sat back against the car door, her bottom lip sucked in. She couldn’t say anything to that. She couldn’t lie to him. Tommy gave her a sad smile, admiring her face, as if for the last time. Shaking her head, she whispered sadly, ‘Don’t do that, Tommy. Don’t look at me like that.’

‘Like what, my girl?’

‘Like when I get out of this car I won’t be your girl any more. Like you’re not going to let yourself near me,’ she begged, moving to him, still afraid to touch him. ‘I fixed it for you, Tommy. Because I love you. You’re a nightmare. But I do. I’ve never felt safe like I do with you, never laughed as hard. You’ve looked after me all this time, even when I was shouting at you, telling you to fuck off. And I should have listened to you with the Lee’s, maybe I should have, but I did what I did because I couldn’t bare the thought of you being the one coming in with bruises or worse. That’s me. Not you. Arthur and John too. You’ve all kept me from harm, so I’ll keep you from it. And I was the only one with the means to end this peacefully.’

‘John could have married the Lee girl,’ he said, but his voice was gentle, low, honey, eyes roaming her face.

She shook her head, feeling braver again. ‘He’d have been miserable, Tommy. A moment of misery for me over a lifetime for him, and him hating you for making you do it.’

‘He hates me anyways.’

‘No he doesn’t, Tommy.’

They gazed at each other, all the rage, all the fear, trickling out the car like water down a drain.

‘Come here,’ he ordered, low and soft. ‘Nancy.’

She let him slip her across his lap, curling into his chest, closing her eyes, enjoying his smell, his warmth, him holding her tight, finger tips moving against her in gentle embraces.

Tommy stared forward a while, but as her scent, her warmth, sank into him, he felt himself melting back into the chair, his eyes slipping closed. He could hear gentle rain starting, tapping against the roof of the car, but it soothed him, hearing her gentle breaths. ‘Nancy?’ he mumbled, kissing the top of her head.

She made a move to lift her head, but he held her to his chest.

‘I love you too, you know.’

Her arms wrapped around his waist, head tilting, lips brushing ever so softly against his neck. ‘Can we go home?’

He blew out a long breath, opening his eyes. ‘Yeah. Yeah, let’s go home.’

Nancy slipped off onto the seat, but Tommy kept her beneath his arm, secured against his side, blinking, far too much.

He needed out. Needed out of the fucking car.

But he drove, all the way to Small Heath, to Watery Lane. And there was John, out the door as soon as they pulled up. He yanked open the passenger side door as Nancy sat up and Tommy removed his arm.

‘I’m alright,’ she murmured tiredly, sliding across the seat and letting him help her down as he looked her over, frowning.

Tommy stayed in the car, looking forward, swallowing, grinding his teeth. ‘I’m going for a drive,’ he clipped. He couldn’t help it, so he looked to her. ‘Be home later.’

Nancy gave a nod, a small smile, reassuring him it was okay, that he wasn’t abandoning her. But he looked to the hand on her shoulder, to John’s frown. He felt sick, actually. Like if he let go of the car wheel he'd be trembling. A bit like shell shock.

‘Tommy,’ John spoke, before he could set off. ‘Dad’s here.’

If Nancy had thought he was murderous before, this was an entirely new beast.

She was locked up in Tommy’s room, because it was the one closest for him to push her into, and stayed there, listening to the mumbled voices below her. She lay on his bed, gazing at the wall, squeezing her eyes to make them forget the day, and fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Tommy was in her doorway again, haunting it. His eyes were all intense, all Thomas Shelby.

‘Tommy?’ she whispered, but it came out more like a whimper.

Something in his eyes changed minutely, and he took a breath that seemed to be his first full fill of his lungs in a while. He blinked, shaking his head. ‘Go back to sleep.’

She moved to sit, but he slunk away from the door, into the darkness. She was frightened, and she didn’t know if it was of him, for him, or if he was the one that could make her feel safe, like he had since she’d joined the Shelby’s.

She slipped again into slumber, eventually, and awoke.

The morning light brought little warmth to her. She felt like she’d drank the night before, head banging, face swollen, covered in a crust of dried tears. But she couldn’t get up, didn’t want to either.

Visions of the ceiling of the travellers carriage were chased by visions of Tommy’s hands on the wheel, then his face when he walked in the pub, then the carriage again, then a replay of his shouting face, inches from hers, fingers pointing, John barking, Polly’s look of complete fear.

She didn’t cry. It was like some kind of intense mental torture, someone in her mind pulling up the worst parts of the day, showing her how it had all been exactly her fault.

She wasn’t for the planning, she’d said it herself. She wasn’t for any of it. She was for the upkeep – the smiles, the dinners, the comfort of a clean shirt on a hard morning, the easy giggle and soft expressions.

There were flashes of John in there, of that first night she’d known him in a way she hadn’t known him or anyone since. It had been a fluke, that she’d half wished had never happened, because it had given her false hope of how living in the brothel was going to be. But now she was glad of it.

If it wasn’t for it she wouldn’t know that sharing a bed with a man could be anything other than traumatising. Memories of that night were some of her most precious possessions, not because of John, as lovely as he was, and the tension still shared. But because it kept a small part of her hoping.

This part of her life was a temporary thing. Just like the brothel had been. Tommy was making the business legitimate – clean. She’d either be a part of it or she could move on from it.

Could she, though? Move on from it? From them?

Dan would have her. He said a few more months and he could maybe write to Rosie, maybe even sooner than that. She could go then too, to London.

But as she thought of Dan, and her, she imagined them in her imaginary London but younger. Dan, fresh faced, chubbier, just married. And her how she was years before, straight up and down, not a womanly notion in sight.

Things hadn’t been the same since then. She felt more kinship to Polly, to Tommy, even Finn, than she had to her brother in a long time. Dan didn’t know her. Even before he was sent away. He was just trying to survive whatever injury the war did him and keep level for his family. And serve Tommy, of course.

‘Nancy, sweetheart,’ Polly said softly through the door. ‘I told them to stay away this morning, but they’ve been asking after you.’

Licking her dry lips, she cleared her throat, barely a part of the world. ‘Yeah. I’m alright. I’m tired.’

‘I can do you a bath and a tea?’

But Nancy was gazing at the window again, shaking her head.

She couldn’t even remember talking to Kenny on the way back to Small Heath, but she must have. She’d told him she needed to take a message for Tommy to one of the Lee’s, that she was desperate for a lift. He’d said yes straight away. Of course he had.

She’d never been able to lie to save her life, and now, to Kenny, of all people.

The ceiling of the carriage was painted red, with white flowers on the edging.

The door clicked open and closed, and Tommy was sat on the side of her bed, it all happened at once and in a blur. He was looking at her, tired himself, but at least dressed. At least Thomas Shelby could get himself out of bed in the morning.

‘It’s four o’clock, Nancy,’ he said in a low murmur. His face wasn’t giving anything away, not even to her.

She didn’t know Tommy half as well as she thought that she did. They were all crammed together in a tiny place, in a tiny house. It made emotions, relationships, amplified by a thousand. She felt like she would live and die for Thomas Shelby, and clearly, the things that she did affected him on an earth-shattering level. The others too. Even John, who didn’t live in the tiny house.

‘I’ll run you a bath,’ he said, rubbing his hands over his eyes, leaning forward with his elbows digging into his knees.

‘I’m not clean, am I,’ she said in a small way, giving him a frowning smile. His face was tortured. ‘You wanted to keep me clean – but I wasn’t when I got here. Couldn’t be helped, Tommy.’

He sighed, looking forward to the wall. ‘You’re pure under all the grime. A diamond covered in shit is still a diamond.’

‘What do you even know about me to know I’m so good, Thomas Shelby? I was nothing to you not so long ago.’

He chuckled, short and without humour. Sighing again. ‘I don’t know, Nancy. Does it matter?’

She stared at him until he turned around, raising his brow a little. He looked stern, but it was actually exhaustion, worry, fear, pity, regret.

‘You were wearing a pale blue dress, that first day I saw you in the barbers,’ he said, eyes blinking away from her as he remembered. ‘Your hair long and loose, flicking around behind you when you came out, offering to take my coat.’ He breathed a chuckle, shaking his head. ‘Then you looked up, and those eyes stood out over the bruises.’

He looked at her, then to her lips. He always looked at her like he didn’t care that she was another person. Stare her in the eye for longer than was normal, inspect tiny aspects of her features. She had a few freckles dotted around that he’d fix on sometimes. It used to make her itchy, but now it was just Tommy.

‘I knew you had something about you when you shoved me outside the Garrison. Didn’t care who I was. Loved your brother. Then you showed up here, calling Polly Mrs,’ he said, laughing again, eyes on hers. ‘You were in my head then, Nance. Amongst all the shit. Reminded me there was nice things in the world, softness. That wasn't shying away. When I thought you’d left Birmingham I was fucking relieved, I had one less thing to worry about – one less burden to bear – less guilt too. Could imagine you in a big house somewhere, cooking, teaching Danny’s kids, you know. Nothing to be said that Tommy Shelby wasn’t taking care of the family he left without a man.’

She didn’t want to hear the next part, not really. But she let him talk, because he had never said so much. It was selfish too. She liked the sound of his voice.

‘Jesus, when I took you from the whore house. I did it because it was my responsibility. I was supposed to look after you for Danny. Rosie made her choices. But what happened really was that I couldn’t let the world swallow you, chew you up. There has to be some goodness in the world, Nancy. I couldn’t let it be taken from you, not when you were mine to keep from it.’

‘You’re good too, Tommy,’ Nancy whispered, but he shook his head.

‘I can’t keep you from it all. You’re – no one is untouchable, not here, not near me. But your heart is still pure. Especially if you can look at me with that beautiful smile in spite of me doing it all to you. It’s all my fault, see? You were right that night in the car. I wanted you to stop shouting because I knew you were right. But if you can still shine a little light on me, Nance, bloody hell. I’ll soak up what I can. I’d be a fool not to.’

She stayed quiet, hoping he’d carry on, and he did.

‘There is so much shit, Nance. I can handle it all, I can. But truth is, it’s a lot fucking easier having my own little light waiting for me when I come in from the dark night – knowing it’s a light I’ve kept glowing,’ he finished, looking back to her.

Tommy’s voice hadn’t been desperate. He wasn’t a man who begged. He’d said it all soft and low, steady, but as fact.

‘Truth is, Nance,’ he murmured then, looking over her face, touching the tips of her fingers with his. ‘When Danny sends word to Rosie, and she goes to him, I’m hoping you stay here. I’d say it’s selfish, but at least I’d know. I’d know you’re fine, even if we were in the shit. If you’re still shining, the world still has some good in it.’

He hadn’t had to say it all. She’d known when he came in the room that she’d be leaving the conversation on his side, because her world, tiny as it was, revolved around Tommy Shelby, and she had a feeling that wasn’t going to change today.

‘I don’t feel very shiny, Tommy,’ she admitted, voice scratchy.

He started to smile. ‘You are, love.’

She pulled herself up to sit, landing close to him. He smelled like outside, but in a nice way. Not smog, but grass. ‘Have you heard from the Lee’s?’

He looked over her, sliding the strap of her slip back up her arm as he’d done before, fingers sliding across the jut of her collar bone before his hand dropped again. ‘Aye. It’s all settled.’

He looked up to her, tilting his head.

‘I won’t thank you for it though.’

She smiled a little. ‘Didn’t do it for the thanks.’

Tommy had gone serious though, frowning, putting hands on her cheeks. ‘You won’t do it again, will you? Won’t go behind my back, especially not like that. Promise.’

‘I promise, Tommy,’ she agreed, and he held her for a moment before releasing her face with a nod. He was reaching in his pocket for his cigarettes when she lightly said, ‘Can’t promise celibacy though. Not even for you. Have to get married one day.’

He smirked, chuckling under his breath, then shook his head as he inhaled. ‘As long as it’s your choice, and you’re only doing it for your own enjoyment, love, that’s absolutely fine.’

She fell back again, arms above her head, stretching out, moaning at her clicking bones.

Tommy watched her with a soft smile. ‘I’ve made you a bath up. Come on.’

Nancy moved to stand as he did, moving to grab her dressing gown.

‘There’s no one home. Shop doors are shut,’ he told her from the door way, giving her a once over from the corner of his eye. ‘Come on.’

She grabbed some clothes to put on after and followed him through the house, finding it quiet, but in a nice way. There was the soft sounds of people in the shop, but nothing hectic. He had a few things out on the kitchen sides, the windows all steamed up from the heat of the bath.

He turned his back to her, squashing out his cigarette and putting some dirty cups in the sink. Nancy moved through to the bathroom, setting out her clothes and getting a towel, pausing when she looked to the chair by the bath she usually would set it out on.

Glass bottles of various lotions and oils, a new set of brush, comb and mirror, all white with a matching floral pattern. Beautiful things, too beautiful for Small Heath. On the back of the chair there was silk, the same pearly white of the hair set. A new night dress with lace trims, finer than anything she already owned even with Polly’s shopping trips.

Tommy stiffened a little when her arms wrapped tightly around him from behind where he stood at the counter, fixing himself a drink. He smiled, touching a hand over hers.

Nancy whispered a thanks, then pulled away, and he turned, watching her go. She had her hand on the door handle, ready to close it. But she paused, then looked back at him. ‘I’m leaving it open so I can talk to you – is that okay?’

Tommy held her gaze, picking up his drink, moving around the table with a pointed look. Then he pulled out the chair in front of the open bathroom door and sat down, his back to her. He took out his cigarettes, tapping one against the table, turning and raising a brow at her as she still hadn’t moved. ‘Bath’ll get cold.’

She smirked, though he’d turned back around to face away, and moved to the bath, stripping and stepping into the water.

Tommy smoked, and he drank, listening to the light splashes, the clinking of the glasses as she looked at her new things. He was used to the smells of women, perfumes, stale smoke, cooking. But this was something fresher, sweeter.

It filled the house, the steaming sweet scent, as did the sounds of her content moans and sighs.

He swallowed, closing his eyes and taking a breath in. ‘You feel better?’

Nancy looked through to the next room. Tommy had his head turned sideways, not far enough to see her, his eyes directed down.

He could see in his side vision though, the blur of white of the bath, the pink body sitting up in it.

‘Cleaner,’ she said, catching the edge of his smile before he turned back. She stared at the back of Tommy’s head, the clean cut, a small scar on the back leaving a silver line where there were no hairs. She’d not noticed it before. She was always too busy analysing his face to have noticed.

She wondered if he had any others. Then she realised that she was lying, naked, where he could easily turn and see her. And she was thinking of him, of his skin, the parts she had seen and the parts that she hadn’t.

Tommy seemed above it all. Sex, love. Primitive things. How many nights he’d not come home had he been out, being human, being a man, with women? And which women?

Grace flashed in her mind and she grimaced so hard she sat up in the bath, deciding immediately to wash her blushing face.

‘The girls in the shop said you could put that oil in your hair as well as on your skin,’ he said. His voice was low and heavy, carried in on the steam swirling between the two rooms.

He listened as she picked up the bottle and unstopped it, smelling it.

‘I should really cut it,’ she said, running her fingers through her hair, the oil strong smelling of lavender.

‘No,’ Tommy all but grunted, shaking his head. ‘It’s good as it is.’

‘Smells nice now too.’

He smiled softly, listening to her finish up. He stood when he heard her climb out and moved to put the kettle on the stove. ‘Tea, love?’

‘Tea would be great,’ she replied as she sat on the chair, wrapped in her towel, squeezing her hair in another one, watching him move around the room in a terribly domestic way for a man who hand a gun strapped to him. She popped open the oil, smelling it again with a smile.

Tommy turned with the filled mugs, glancing up to her. Her bare feet were pale pink and soft from the bath, hear hair long over one shoulder, combed away from her face. Her bare legs shone with the oil she was rubbing into them, bare to the top of her thighs, her crossed legs covering where they joined.

He set the cups down on the table and leaned back against the cabinets, sleeves shoved up to the elbows, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes were that hazy half lidded, his expression blank as he watched her hands smoothing in circles over her skin.

Nancy swapped her legs over, filling her palm with oil, then glanced up again, freezing when she saw Tommy, saw the way he watched. She took a shaky breath and carried on. ‘It’s nice.’

He flickered his eyes up to hers, back down to her legs as she uncrossed them, keeping them together and stood. She sent him a smile, closing the door over half way to where she didn’t think he could see her, and pulled the towel off, putting on her new night dress and turning to the mirror.

Fixing it on her shoulders, fluffing her drying hair a little, her heart lurched. The gap in the door, reflected in the mirror, showed Tommy, still stood, but his hands over his eyes, shaking his head softly to himself.

She didn’t know if he’d been able to see her, but her cheeks burned anyways.

Chapter Text

When Polly arrived home, she did so quietly, assessing the atmosphere before she properly came in. She thought from the gentle humming that it was only Nancy at home, but Tommy sat at the kitchen table reading the newspaper as she cooked around him. ‘Evening.’

‘Hiya, Pol,’ Nancy greeted, as if it were any other day.

Polly glanced to Tommy, who didn’t look up, but minutely shook his head. She sighed, slipping off her coat and coming properly into the room. Ignoring Tommy’s silent order, she said, ‘So we are all happy families again?’

Nancy didn’t turn around, defiantly making Tommy answer, ‘As long as John has his head straight.’

Polly made a gesture of great exhaustion and moved to Nancy, leaning her hip against the counter, raising a brow at her. ‘You alright?’

‘Course I am,’ she said with a grin, a little shaky. ‘Have you seen John?’

‘He’s on his way round from the pub. So either make yourself scarce or be ready for a deep and meaningful,’ she said with a sigh, moving away and lighting up.

‘There’ll be no deep and meaningful – we’ve done enough of that,’ Tommy said shortly. ‘He just needs to show me he’s got his head twisted on, and knows what’s what, and all will be well.’

‘Good-bloody-luck,’ Polly muttered, gripping the neck of the gin bottle and tugging it from the cupboard like it was unwilling. ‘And Arthur –‘

‘Pol,’ Nancy said softly, turning to her with a smile. She didn’t need to say anything else. Polly’s shoulders dropped a little, nodding in submission.

Tommy flicked the paper a little to straighten it, as if he hadn’t been paying attention at all.

The front door opened, and hammering feet echoed through to them and John’s voice carried, ‘You little shit, nearly knocked me over, Finn!’

‘Polly!’ Finn yelled as he came to the room and Tommy lurched, making the boy flinch. But he panted, looking to Polly with wide eyes and gasping out, ‘Ada’s having the baby! She shouted out the window to the kids outside asking them to fetch you! Just saw em now running here!’

Polly was already half in her coat, Nancy too, John having come in behind Finn was wide eyed, looking to Tommy for some kind of direction.

‘Come on,’ Polly urged, tugging her out before she could even look at either of them. They rushed up the street and round to Ada’s, Polly moving straight through the front door and up to her flat. ‘Ada?’

A yell came from the bedroom, and Polly was listing things for Nancy to get, but then turned, and Nancy was already in the kitchen, filling up with hot water, grabbing blankets from the back of the sofas.

‘Where is the bathroom?’ she asked, breathless, and Polly smiled, pointing her in the right direction.

Thank bloody god for Nancy Owen, she thought – not for the first time.

Ada wailed, grunted, whined and begged, gripping Nancy’s hand, panting hard, Polly by her other side, holding onto her.

‘Come on, Ada,’ she muttered, rubbing her back. ‘You can do bloody anything – anything!’

‘Shut up! Shut up!’ she barked, followed by another wail. After that, Nancy knew that she wouldn’t have any luck sharing supportive words if Polly didn’t, so she stayed quiet.

As easy and as natural as breathing, Ada ended her night with her baby boy on her chest, finally crying, after all that pain. Nancy hadn’t seen anything in the world as defiant and strong as Ada Shelby, and didn’t think she ever would again.

She and Polly washed up, weary, silent. There had been so much noise, so much stress.

Polly nudged her with her elbow. ‘Well done.’

Nancy smiled softly. ‘I was with Rosie when her littlest was born. It wasn’t like that though.’

‘Third born – likely just slipped out,’ Polly said with a chuckle, shaking her head. ‘Ada did well.’

Nancy smiled, looking back, to the open bedroom door, hoping Ada could hear them. But when she moved back into the room she was half asleep, the baby on her chest, curled in. She stepped back out. ‘She’s sleeping.’

Polly hummed, frowning. ‘Tommy better let Freddie come.’

Her heart twanged a little. ‘Tommy wouldn’t be that cruel, would he?’

She got only a tight look in return. ‘You’re all sorted then, you and Tom?’

Nancy nodded, suddenly speechless.

‘You need to be careful,’ Polly started to warn, but the door was flung open.

‘Where is she?’ Freddie begged, but marched through to the bedroom, gasping, covering his mouth.

Nancy grinned, hearing the soft sounds of their reunion, his joy, her coy thrill. She’d never seen Ada soft. Polly looked relieved, moving through to see them.

Nancy stayed back, letting them have their moment. She carried on scrubbing at the towels, wringing them out as best she could. She moved to the window, pegging the wet cloth above it, looking down when she saw the street busy.

Only it wasn’t busy, it was policemen, filing into the building. She scrambled away, running to lock the door, calling, ‘Pol – police!’

She had her hands on it when it swung open, and they marched in. Her head hit the wall, her bruising hands covering her mouth as they pulled Freddie from the bedroom, Ada and the baby’s cries mixing into one horrible sound.

Nancy stepped to the side, Freddie meeting her eye with a haunted look before he was dragged down the stairs.

Then Polly was marching, raging. ‘That fucking man! That fucking man!’

She was shoving her coat on, Ada following out to the main room, shushing the baby with her trembling breath, begging, ‘Don’t leave me, Nancy – please don’t leave me.’

There was so much happening at once, she could barely catch up. She touched Ada’s arm, putting her in a chair. ‘I won’t leave, Ada, I promise. Polly?’

Polly turned from the open door, pointing her finger and growling, ‘Thomas Shelby did this – I know he bloody did this and I’m going to kill him for it!’

Nancy opened her mouth, but the door slammed, and Ada was sobbing, the baby was crying. ‘Ada, Ada, it’s okay, it’s okay.’

‘It’s not fucking okay! They’ve took him, Nancy,’ she cried, looking so unlike her self and so so young it broke her heart.

She wrapped her arms around her shoulders, letting her lean in. ‘Put him on you, he’ll settle.’

Ada slipped down her night dress, putting the baby to her breast, taking calming breaths, glancing up at Nancy once all the noise had stopped.

Nancy was panicking, she knew. The noise, the shouting. The violence of it all, one thing after another. She slid open the window, sticking her head out and breathing in the cold air.

Then a gentle hand touched her back. Ada, who’d just given birth, who’d just had the father of her baby arrested, who still used her other arm to hold her baby to her, suckling away, stood by her, defying the world.

They were both crying. They were both just girls.

They sat together on Ada’s bed after that, quiet for a long time, while Ada fed the baby, he slept, then fed him again. There were cold cups of tea on the side, the second Nancy had made.

Finally, eventually, Ada asked in a broken voice, ‘Do you think Tommy did it?’

Nancy’s eyes would have filled, had she had any more energy in her.

‘Of course you don’t,’ Ada said with a scoff, but without cruelty. ‘I don’t want to see any of them – ever again.’

‘They love you, Ada,’ Nancy whispered, looking to the baby. ‘They’ll love him too.’

‘Until he’s old enough to become like them – look at Finn,’ she said, shaking her head. It was the quietest she’d ever been. She swallowed, looking to her. ‘I don’t want to see them, but if I saw you, you’d tell them I was alright, wouldn’t you, and they wouldn’t bother me?’

A smile tugged at her lips. Ada looked so young. So tired. Vulnerable. ‘I will tell them whatever you want them to know. You’re not a Shelby anymore anyways, you’re a Thorne. My friend, Ada Thorne. If they ask, I don’t even need to lie. I was at my friend’s house.’

Ada matched her smile, glancing away, shaking her head. ‘Who’d have thought we’d be friends. You’re basically my replacement, apart from my brothers never wanted to fuck me – at least I hope not.’

Somehow, amongst it all, they both managed a laugh.

__________

Nancy stepped out of Ada’s flat, onto the dark street. Across the road she could see the outline of a cap, the orange glow. She knew who it was, even in the dark.

‘How is she?’ Tommy asked quietly, timidly, in his own way.

Nancy sucked in her bottom lip, falling into step beside him. ‘She thinks you told the police where Freddie was. Doesn’t want to see any Shelby’s – or Polly, for that matter.’

‘What about you?’ he asked low, watching the darkness around her with keen eyes. He was on edge.

‘Well she let me stay to finishing tidying up, but not much else,’ she said lightly, but looked at him and frowned. ‘Polly said she was going to kill you.’

He cleared his throat. ‘Very nearly did, I’d say.’

‘I’m sorry, Tommy.’

She wanted to ask him, so desperately. But he looked like he never had - like he was close to breaking.

‘I didn’t do it,’ he said, looking at her finally, looking a bit more normal, edged though his voice was. ‘I can see you thinking.’

Nancy shook her head, but sighed. ‘It has been a very long night – for everyone. Ada especially.’

‘She’s a strong girl, she’ll be fine,’ Tommy said, as if he’d just decided it, and by speaking it, made it true. He looked up, licking his lips, then set his hand on her arm, pulling her into his side and under his arm, walking as they did.

She glanced up, seeing a group of men making their way home from the pub. She barely even flinched. Why would she? She was with Tommy, after all.

He was scanning them, trying to catch sight of who they were in the dark, holding her close as they walked. Nancy had her head tilted right up, watching his expression as he shifted his gaze, calculating and cautious. Then his jaw relaxed, his brow softened.

‘Alright, Mike,’ he called, giving a nod. There were a few calls and murmurs of his name as they passed him, Nancy keeping her face turned away, Tommy holding her that way too.

He looked down at her, finding her looking up at him from the space under his arm, eyes flitting over her face. ‘You alright?’

‘No one is going to steal me right in front of you, you know?’ she said with a light laugh, squeezing the wrist of the arm around her where she’d been holding it without much realising. ‘Especially not here.’

He smiled a little at that, rolling his eyes and loosening his hold, but kept his arm over her shoulder, in his warmth. ‘Can’t be to careful, my girl.’

She smiled, pleased she’d gotten him to at least change his expression. ‘Are we going home?’

He nodded, swallowing. ‘Can you stand guard, making sure Polly doesn’t shank me?’

Laughing a little, she shook her head. ‘You think I could stop her?’

‘By will alone,’ he murmured, kissing the side of her hair. He dipped to her ear. ‘Thank you for Ada.’

‘You don’t have to thank me,’ she said, leaning into his side again, touching a hand to his waist and keeping it there as they walked the final stretch home.

Luckily, the house was silent, all closed up. They slipped their shoes off at the door and Tommy took them, carrying them up the stairs as he went in front of her.

She tried her best to match his steps so the stairs would creak at the same time. They didn’t have to be careful though, Polly’s door was open, and she wasn’t in her room.

‘She’ll be at John’s,’ Tommy murmured to her, low even though the house was empty besides them. He moved back and checked Finn’s room, sighing. ‘Yeah. At John’s.’

She knew that likely, at some point, they must have been alone in the house together during the evening time. But this was early morning, around two or three. It felt different. She moved through to her room, and he followed, setting down her shoes for her and moving back out. But he’d left the door open, and he hadn’t said good night, so it was as if he’d be coming back.

So she changed, swiftly. She could hear him moving around the house, but she wasn’t sure where, or doing what. But as she plaited her hair, he showed up at the door, having taken off his shirt. He was in an under-shirt vest that clung to him, his arms out bare. He looked like a different person.

‘Okay?’ she asked, looking firmly back at the mirror.

‘Brought you a drink,’ he said, waiting for her to finish then lifting it to her as she rose.

She drank it back, and he watched her do it.

‘Hard to fall asleep when your brains still trying to catch up with the day,’ he explained, clinking the two glasses together in one hand. He looked her over then, leaning against the door frame. ‘I hope that’s alright for you.’

She looked down at the night dress, touching a hand over her stomach, feeling a little exposed. ‘Yeah, it’s beautiful, Tommy. I love it.’

He smiled, his eyes on her hand, then trailing back up to her face. ‘Come here.’

‘You come here,’ she said with a little tug at the corner of her lips.

He rose a brow, that could have been a threat, but she grinned still. Tommy kissed her forehead after taking two broad steps into the room. ‘Goodnight, Nancy.’

‘Night, Tommy,’ she whispered, fiddling with her own fingertips, not knowing what to do with her hands. He was walking away though, into the night. So she quickly said, ‘I don’t think you did it, you know. And not just because I’m loyal – because I really don’t think you would.’

Tommy did a smile sometimes she thought was just for her. His eyes were half lidded, brighter blue somehow beneath the shadow of his lashes. His lips would pull just ever so slightly at both sides, and his eyes would flit between hers, his brows twitching as if he was surprised at a genuine feeling of joy.

‘You’re a sweetheart, Nancy. Me and you against the world right now. Are you with me?’

‘Army of two,’ she agreed with a nod and a grin. ‘You let me know when the fight is.’

His brow scrunched and he breathed a laugh, shaking his head. ‘Barmy, you are.’

‘Have to be, living in this house.’

Tommy gave her a final tilted smile and pattered down to his room, closing the door with a light click.

___________

Tommy wasn’t home when Nancy woke up, but Polly was. She was in the kitchen, in her robe, about to open her mouth, but Nancy put both hands up.

‘I’m already in between Ada and the entire world – now Tommy too. I don’t want to be, Polly. I like the peace, I like the quiet. Don’t involve me even more. I’m here for all of you, yeah?’

Polly closed her mouth. She looked livid, but she gave a nod, somewhere in her eyes there was a glimmer of admiration.

Home, after that, wasn’t as shaky as she had imagined. Polly was for the mornings, and the meals. Tommy for the nights, after he got home.

Some mornings he’d call through from the shop, and she’d go sit by him while he figured things out – this could be writing, chatting, or mulling over a drink or a smoke. She helped him think, he said. Then he’d give her a slip of paper, or a few words, and send her on messages to places. Often times she’d end up delivering to the Peaky boys who were at home, their wives answering the door, glaring harshly at her.

Sometimes she’d be off to pick things up, suits, supplies, smokes, booze.

The mornings she wasn’t at Tommy’s beck and call, she’d go to the Garrison, shutting herself up in the office, trying to straighten out the books.

Tommy had asked Grace to help out, while Nancy did more work directly with him. So above her writing was Grace’s delicate scratching. She’d stare at it sometimes, nibbling at her lip, unsure of it all, but knowing it didn’t feel good.

But she supposed she’d gotten used to being the favourite, thinking she was the only girl Tommy doted on because it made her stomach flip to think anything otherwise.

She’d walk around to Keith and Kenny’s on a Friday morning, picking up their books and their notes and take them back to the shop, setting herself up for the day. Admittedly, she spent a lot of time making tea and chatting with the lads, but Tommy smiled at her most when she was moving around the place, so she knew he didn’t mind.

The inspector lingered but did not approach.

John had barely looked at her the few times they’d crossed paths, but not in a natural way. He’d made himself somewhat scarce from the shop, but was showing up more and more.

He arrived that Friday to find her stood over Scudboat, telling him and another one of the lads a story. She laughed, and so did they, shaking their heads at her. He felt a tug at the corner of his mouth and squashed it as he approached.

‘Johnny,’ Scudboat greeted and the fella behind him tipped his cap.

‘Seen Tom?’ John asked, looking down at the pack of cigarettes in his hands instead of at them.

‘He’s gone over to the yard,’ she replied simply, making it quite clear she wasn’t up for any funny business. ‘You hungry? I’ll knock up some sandwiches.’

‘Aw, love, I’ll not go home at this rate!’

She rolled her eyes at the man with a grin, catching eyes on John as she made for the kitchen. Not being able to help himself, he followed.

Nancy pretended she hadn’t noticed, working away, but then finger tips brushed against the back of her arm. She looked to John, double taking when she saw he’d taken his cap off. ‘You okay?’

‘Just – feels like I haven’t seen you since, well,’ he said, jerking his head in gesture. ‘Polly says things are peaceful enough, but are you alright?’

‘Course I am,’ she breathed with a laugh as she filled the sandwiches, building them carefully. ‘I just go along, you know.’

‘I do know,’ he urged. ‘I don’t want you to get hurt, Nancy.’

Her hands stopped and she looked at him, frowning. ‘I’m not going to get hurt, John.’

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head, so she smiled.

‘John, can we just forget about everything? All the bad stuff? Between us, anyways. I’m over the Lee’s, I’m over the shouting. I just – I just want to be on good terms with everyone.’

‘We wasn’t on bad terms,’ he said shaking his head, touching her arm again. ‘I was just thinking I don’t like how things are.’

‘I don’t know if anyone likes how things are right now, John. I’m just biding my time until things get better.’

He licked his lips and rubbed them together. His eyes had barely left hers. He didn't know how to do this. He could do flirting. He could do angry. But this?

She’d turned back to her sandwiches, finishing off, holding one out to him, wiggling it when he didn’t take it. She was giving him a lopsided, jesting smile, that he couldn’t resist grinning to, rolling his eyes again.

‘Thank you, princess.’

‘You’re very welcome,’ she said, eyes twinkling at the name, about to let go of the plate when the back door opened.

Tommy’s eyes scanned the room, the situation, and he nodded at John. ‘Nance, got a job for you.’

She lifted the plates. ‘I’ll just give these to the boys.’

Then the brothers were alone, looking at each other. Tommy murmured, ‘She can’t help caring, can she?’

‘I said she’s a sweetheart,’ John said, looking over his shoulder, watching her touching Scud’s shoulder as she gave him his plate. ‘Bloody beautiful, isn’t she,’ he said like he regretted it.

Tommy’s eyes flicked from her to John, his body still frozen, half in the door half out, leaning against the frame with one hand above his head. ‘Yeah, John. She is.’

John’s expression flickered with knowing, as if to say, ‘I told you so,’ but then she was back, wiping her hands clean and slipping on her coat.

‘Where we going?’ she asked Tom, who looked down at her, mouth twitching.

‘Come on.’

It turned out, that every now and then, doing jobs for Tommy just meant going for a drive. They’d drive out to the country, or just around town, looking at the sights – sometimes Tommy was looking for something in particular, but he’d never really say what. He loved his cars, did Tommy.

They were driving up the road when they spotted a man, scars on his face, grey hair, smartly dressed, but not quite as smart as Tommy.

The air had gotten all hot, his face firm, hardening further when the man nodded with a smirk to them.

‘If you ever see that man, Nancy, and he tries to talk to you, I want you to move away, as fast as you can. And don't stop moving till you find me.’

She quietly agreed. Tensions had been even higher with his father milling around.

She heard Arthur barging into the bar one day in his noisy way, his muffled conversation, then he left. He usually popped in to say hello.

Nancy pushed out of the office and walked to the bar. ‘Can I have a water, please, Grace?’

She nodded, frowning.

‘Something wrong?’

‘Just… I’ve been helping, haven’t I – with the books?’

She gave a tight smile.

‘He’s just told me they send money to a man named Danny Whizz-Bang. Who I thought was dead?’

Nancy hummed, raising her brows. ‘I hadn’t noticed.’

‘He took money too,’ she said, frowning in a false little way. ‘Told me not to write it anywhere.’

‘How much?’ she asked, feeling a light headache coming on.

Grace went to the till, looking through it. ‘A fair amount, Nancy. Do you think we should tell Tommy?’

Nancy was shaking her head. ‘You keep yourself out of it all. Can’t tell you what it’s like being in an argument between the Shelby brothers.’

Grace gave a laugh, watching Nancy take back to the office.

She finished up, putting the books into the drawer of the desk and locking it, taking the key with her. She didn’t usually have to bother, in fact, Arthur had told her not to. But she slipped it into her pocket on the way out the door, giving Grace a tight smile.

She’d made peace in her head with the girl, but she didn’t trust her, not an ounce.

She walked fast paced back to Watery Lane, into the betting shop, seeing Tommy there, sleeves rolled up, muttering to one of the lads. She caught his eye, and he beckoned her over, moving towards the wall, away from anyone.

‘Alright, love?’ he murmured, leaning his ear down to her, hand gently on her waist as she rose to put her lips to it.

‘Arthur has just been in the pub, took a lot of money from the till. Told us not to write it down. He’s just told Grace about Dan too. That he’s alive.’

Closing his eyes, letting out a sigh, he pulled her to his chest, patting the back of her hair lightly. ‘Thank you, Nancy.’

She pulled back. ‘I’m gonna go see if Pol needs a hand.’

Tommy licked his lips, nodding, then called to her. ‘I’ll be out this evening. Late. Alright? But I’ll be home come morning.’

‘You don’t have to tell me, it’s alright,’ she said, shaking her head with a chuckle. He gave her a small smile, the something on his mind smile, and she left him to it. She knew that there was plenty that went on that she didn’t know about.

But it was one in the morning when he arrived home, she heard him coming in. If it weren’t for the doors and the creaky floorboards she’d have never have heard. He could move like a ghost when he wanted to.

He stepped lightly down to her door way, opening in, looking in, a haunting look on his face, lit by the moon.

She shot up in bed. ‘Tommy - what the fuck?’

‘I’m alright,’ he said, moving into the room, shushing her. ‘I thought you’d be asleep.’

‘I don’t sleep much when you aren’t in the house,’ she whispered, but it was still a shout, looking at the blood on his hands, on his face. ‘Police?’

He shook his head, pulling the strap of her slip back up that had fell down her arm. He shrugged off his jacket and his shoes, laying back on the bed, pulling her with him, grunting a little, settling her on his chest. ‘I always check on you when I get home. Funny that.’

‘I’m always where I’m supposed to be,’ she promised in a whisper, gazing at the blood on his shirt that looked black. ‘Tommy?’

‘I just want to be quiet with you, Nance,’ he said tiredly.

She took a steadying breath, relaxing into him, bloodied fingers trailing through her hair.

It was quiet, for a long time, and he gave a tired murmur, twisting to face her, keeping her tight against him. ‘I killed someone.’

‘It’s okay.’

His hands wound around her, sliding across her stomach, face in the curve of her neck. ‘You’re okay, aren’t you?’

‘Yeah, Tommy. I’m okay.’ She could hardly breathe. Of all the ways they’d been close, this was entirely new. He sounded all hazy. He felt all hot.

‘With me?’

‘Always,’ she said, feeling him kiss her neck and settle back down behind her, clutching her still.

‘My best girl.’

Though she felt her stomach churning, her heart tightening, and another thousand things, she slept.

___________

Nancy glanced at Tommy sleeping in the reflection of the mirror as she did her make up. He was still covered in blood, but it was dry, crumbling off onto the sheets. He’d stirred a couple of times since she’d gotten up. His fingers were flickering, flexing.

He took a sharp breath in, half sitting, then looking at his hands, looking at her, and laying back, sighing.

‘Morning, Mr Shelby.’

He swallowed. ‘I’m sorry, Nancy. I shouldn’t have-’

‘There are a lot of things we’ve both done that we shouldn’t have. I don’t think sharing a bed is the end of the world,’ she said simply, but her voice was wavering a bit. ‘I fetched a cloth and a wash bowl to your room for you to clean up before anyone else thought to say anything.’

‘You’re kicking me out?’ he asked, smirking a little. She did a smile, but it was half there. ‘You’re racking up debts, sweetheart.’

‘You’re buying me new bed sheets,’ she said, finishing off her face and brushing her hair through a few times before turning in her chair, raising brows to him.

He squinted from where he slumped against the headboard, putting a fag between his lips. ‘You’re not so sweet in the mornings are ya? Only love me by moonlight?’

‘I love you all the time and you know it.’ She rolled her eyes, rising, taking the cigarette from between his lips and holding it out towards the door.

Tommy squashed his smile, rising from the bed, standing close, her nose nearly against his chest. His hand reached for her wrist, holding it out, and his lips moved to kiss her forehead.

There wasn’t enough space in the small room for her to step away, so she let him, giving him a look of defiance. ‘If I weren’t mistaken, I’d think there was something you wanted from me, Thomas Shelby.’

He breathed a laugh out his nose, taking the cigarette from her hand, slipping it between his lips and taking a drag. ‘I’m going to see your brothers grave today. If it’s empty, I’ve been done over, and I’ll know by who.’

She nodded, alert now after their teasing.

‘I’ll need somewhere to hide.’

Nancy took in a big settling breath. She’d thought of it the night they’d walked back from Ada’s, somewhere to stay in case Polly really was going to kill him in his sleep. ‘Kenny has an empty flat above the barbers. He hates the police, he’d let you use it, I’m sure.’

Tommy’s eyes flittered across her face, obvious surprise on his face, and admiration. ‘Haven’t got a key, have you?’

Shaking her head, she apologised.

Tommy kissed her head again. ‘You’re a sweetheart.’

‘And you’re soft, Thomas Shelby.’

‘Only with you,’ he said, touching her cheek a moment. ‘Fingers crossed for me that Danny’s grave is as it should be.’

She held up her crossed fingers, kissed his cheek, and let him leave, a soft smile on his face.

She looked at the blood on the bed, a few places where whatever was still wet on him had wiped off, and she grimaced.

Chapter Text

Nancy bombarded down to Tommy’s room the next morning, finding it empty, then heard voices from downstairs. She rushed on bare feet down the steps, two at a time, seeing him at the bottom, and him seeing her just in time to catch her.

Even John laughed, Arthur from the corner, looking shaken but well, grinning at her delight. He looked different to her, somehow, shiny.

‘Don’t say you doubted me, my girl?’ Tommy murmured low against her ear. He grinned, closing his eyes when she shook her head. ‘My haircut took longer than usual, is all.’

She pulled back, kissing his cheek, firm and long. ‘Let me make you breakfast.’

Tommy chuckled, gripping her hand as she tried to pull away. ‘I’ve got news, Nancy. For the whole family.’

Polly came to the doorway, clutching a cup of tea, holding another out for Nance. Her mouth was in a firm line, but her eyes were lighter than they had been in recent days. ‘Go on then.’

Tommy licked his lips, grinning to his brothers. ‘The Inspector is leaving town. Another thorn in our sides, gone.’

Polly actually smiled. In the truth of it all, Nancy hadn't known exactly why the inspector was after Tommy anyways.

She had no idea what was in her brothers grave, what it meant for it to have been empty. She didn't ask. And that, she thought, was probably why Tommy was always so relaxed to her. All the shit didn't matter to her, none of it. She didn't gaze at him in wonder, or give any opinions or ideas. She didn't ask a thousand fucking questions like Pol, or even Grace. But the night he came home, the blood on his hands, splattered up his shirt and his face. It had triggered something in her.

He wasn't just fiddling books and slipping under police noses doing dodgy deals and smuggling cigarettes. He was her Tommy, but he was Thomas Shelby too. He was all the stories about him.

But he was grinning at her, her Tommy, happy, peaceful - and not just for her this time, but for them all.

‘Next thing on our list – black star day,’ he said, looking to his brothers with a genuine grin. ‘Billy Kimber will be no more and Shelby Brothers Limited will be the third largest legal racetrack operation in the country.’

Nancy gave Tom a forced smile, then caught eyes on Polly, who read her like a book.

__________

That night, all the boys came round, and the kids.

Tommy and Polly sat at the two ends of the table, Finn and Nancy at Tommy’s sides, the kids lining the bench side of the table from Finn to Polly. Arthur took the middle seat between Nancy and Pol, leaving one either side of him.

Polly watched on as John chose the seat beside Nancy, knowing he would. Though he looked up to her, and she gave him a soft smile, and he sent one straight back, asking, ‘What’s on tonight then, Pol?’

‘This was Nancy’s work, I only chopped and stirred,’ she said, sending the girl a wink.

‘Oh yeah?’ John asked, turning to Nancy with his brows raised.

Nancy looked a little sheepish, then rose, eyes following her as she went to the counters, taking the coverings of various dishes and trays and pans. Then she was delivering them to the table, the children gasping in excitement with each new thing that was fetched out. Then she turned, bending to the oven, and pulled out a huge cut of roast beef, juices bubbling in the bottom of the pan.

‘Bloody good show, Nancy-girl,’ Arthur nodded approvingly. ‘I think Tom should cut the meat.’

‘Go on, Tommy,’ Finn cheered, and his uncle smirked, rolling his eyes, but standing. Nancy appeared at his side with a carving knife and a fork, grinning to him.

The family cheered and whistled as he did it, sharing laughs and jokes as he served the kids first, then Pol, then Nancy and the lads.

‘Spare plate here,’ Arthur said, lifting the last plate. The kids were getting veg and potatoes and all sorts to pile on their plates.

Nancy smiled at him, raising her brows.

‘Well, it wouldn’t be a family bloody birthday party without me, would it?’ Ada announced, coming through from the next room.

‘Whey!’

‘Ada!’

They took turns embracing her, holding her, checking her over, and she tried her best not to smile, sending Nancy a little look of bashfulness as she made her way round. ‘Happy Birthday,’ she said when she reached her, rolling her eyes but smiling warmly.

‘It better bloody hadn’t be!’ Polly gasped, slapping down her napkin. ‘Nancy Owen you sly little witch!’

‘She’s not a witch, she’s a princess!’ Katie yelled and Teddy echoed, ‘Yeah!’

Arthur stepped out, opening his arms. ‘Come ere, Nance. Happy Birthday, my love.’

She thanked him, moving on to Polly, then making her way up the kids, watching over their shoulders as Ada and Tommy shared a quiet reunion. Then baby Karl was crying from the next room, and she went through to collect him, swearing as she went.

‘We’re not supposed to have secrets,’ Tommy said low, looking down at Nancy with hooded eyes.

‘You’ve got loads,’ she mumbled, shaking her head.

‘I’d tell you anything, anything you asked.’

‘Yeah, well you never asked me,’ she quipped, and held his gaze until he gave in, wrapping arms around her, kissing the top of her head.

‘Happy Birthday, my love.’

‘Come on then, don’t leave me out,’ John spoke up. He seemed cocky, the way he stood, but his eyes gave him away, softening to her, asking for mercy, which she gave, wrapping her arms around his middle. ‘Happy Birthday, princess.’

He kissed her cheek, giving her a squeeze, then they sat, and they ate, and they drank.

Tommy was louder and louder still, but not at play like he was when they were alone. But he was happy. His family all smiled at him, and he smiled back.

Ada took Karl home eventually, and the rest of them moved through to the living room. The girls snuggled up on Arthur’s knee, and the boys went out into the lane to play, the door left open for them.

Polly put music on and swayed, hands dancing around her. ‘There’s nothing better than a dance.’

‘I’ll bet our Nancy can dance,’ Arthur said with a smirk.

‘Never have, actually. Not properly,’ she admitted, necking her drink and filling her cup up, standing to fill the other cups around the room. The girls asleep when she got to Arthur, she said, ‘Shall we put them up in my bed? I can kip down here.’

Polly snorted, but it went unnoticed, Nancy lifting Katie and Arthur keeping Joanna, leading the way up the stairs, waving John off when he offered help or to just take them home.

Nancy tripped a little on the stairs, giggling, and Arthur shushed her, chuckling in a low rumble. ‘She’s falling for me.’

Nancy slapped his chest as he barked laughter, coming back to find the room in gentle chatter, friendly, abuzz, better than she’d hoped for. Whatever had happened with Arthur, whatever was making him glow, had rubbed off on everyone. The Shelby’s were their own version of a family again.

‘We’ve got out the good stuff,’ Polly said, standing, getting her a fresh drink. Her grin was easy, her eyes heavy, drunk and happy.

‘Oh, I’ll be rotten in the morning, Pol!’

‘I’m sure you’ll find a good strong man to carry you down the stairs and make you a cup of tea.’

Nancy scrunched her nose, looking at the men in evaluation. ‘Don’t know if any of them are up to scratch to be honest.’

Polly smirked, Arthur barked, and John chuckled.

‘I’ve carried you up them plenty of times, sure I’d manage on the way back down,’ Tommy spoke, half into his glass, eyeing her, enjoying the way her brows rose in first shock, then challenge.

John glanced sideways to Polly in a silent question, but she was busy watching them, so he looked to Arthur, who gave a firm shake of his head.

‘Ere, Nancy,’ John said, standing, turning the music up a bit. ‘Let’s have a dance.’

‘John, I can’t,’ she rushed out, but he was gripping her, pulling her into him, starting to sway.

Oh how she laughed, Tommy thought. Head back, throat bared, mouth wide, hair dancing with her as John pulled her this way at that. He bumped her into one of the end tables and Polly yelled, swearing.

‘That’s enough, John,’ Nancy breathed, laughing as he moved her. ‘I’ll be sick!’

‘Not a party till someone is,’ he declared, but stopped her, holding her waist as they caught their breaths.

‘Bloody fools,’ Arthur grumbled, picking up the things knocked off the table. It wasn’t at all like him to be the sensible one.

‘Come on, Johnny, I’ll dance with ya, love,’ Polly said, standing up and joining him.

Nancy sat down onto the arm rest of Tommy’s chair, giving them plenty of room for dancing, and she felt his hand against the outside of her thigh, resting, but touching. Nothing Tommy did was by accident.

Arthur slapped his knee to the rhythm, and Tommy’s fingers began to tap against her, so Nancy turned to give him a smile.

Tommy’s smirk was playful – mischievous even. He gripped the long ends of her hair and gave them a tug, laughing at her feeble slap to his chest, then gripped her waist and tugged her roughly onto his knee, her drink sloshing over the sides of her glass and onto the both of them.

‘You fucking idiot!’ she said through her laughter, trying to stand but he held her down, almost giggling.

Giggling. Thomas Shelby.

His fingers squeezed at her sides, making her squirm and laugh against him.

‘Get off me you bloody terrorist,’ Nancy said, pushing at his hands, laughing, breathless.

He lifted his hands, elbows on the arms of the chair, palms facing her when she leapt up, looking at the damage to her dress. ‘Come on, forgive me.’

She squinted at him. ‘Have to apologise to be forgiven, Tommy.’

They were both squashing smiles, ignoring the entirely separate party happening behind her, though eyes were glancing their way. He grinned up at her, eyes heavy with the drink, the joy. ‘Alright, alright. I’m sorry, my girl, I love ya, come back. I’ll behave.’

‘Don’t start,’ Polly said firmly somewhere behind Nancy, but she knew she wasn’t speaking to her.

Tommy’s eyes briefly flickered behind Nancy, but then went back to her, his grin relaxing, but his eyes still asking. His murmur was so low, but so firm: ‘Come here.’

She moved towards him, smiling with a twist at the corner, placing herself side ways on the arm of the chair, but he pulled her down to his knee, hand on her waist, unmoving, keeping her where he wanted her. Close. Warm. With him.

Arthur sniffed a little as John moved to pour another drink and Polly settled herself deep into her chair, clearly past conversation. ‘Pub, John?’

‘Aye,’ John agreed, voice heavy, back still turned. ‘Aye. Pub.’ He paused, holding his glass, his head down. ‘You coming, princess?’

Nancy, her head propped on her hand, her elbow on Tommy’s broad shoulder, frowned a little. ‘I think I’m too drunk. I should probably go to bed.’

‘Kids are in your bed,’ John said, turning, unsmiling, but not angry. ‘You forget?’

‘Yeah,’ she said, laughing despite the building tension in the room. ‘Told you I’m too far gone.’

‘Fresh air on the walk’ll pull you back out of it,’ John said with meaning, eyes dead set on her, his lips lifting at the sides in a simple smile.

Tommy’s free hand touched her thigh, his lips near her ear. ‘He might be right, you know. Fresh air in your lungs. Might pull you out.’

She looked down at him. He wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t look angry, or sad. He just looked like Tommy. Thoughtful, and calm. ‘You coming?’

He moved her off him to stand, rising himself, blowing out a steadying breath. ‘Would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it, Johnny,’ he murmured, then righted himself. ‘Come on, Pol, bed. You aren’t fit for the pub.’

‘Look at us, well in agreement, Thomas,’ Polly slurred, holding out her hand for him to help her up. She welcomed his arm around her waist, mumbling as they moved to the stairs.

Tommy didn’t look at her, so Nancy turned to the brothers. ‘Two minutes for me to change?’

John’s smile was blinding, eyes twinkling, nodding. ‘Aye, we’ll wait.’

When she headed up the stairs, he looked to Arthur with a bit of hope, then a cheeky grin when his eldest brother punched his arm, ruffling his hair. They were wrestling in no time.

Nancy left the door open, not wanting to creak it a second time as the girls slept soundly on the bed. She lifted her dress over her head, putting it over the chair and looking up with a gasp, finding Tommy in the door way, hands in his pockets, gazing at the girls.

She opened the wardrobe, picked a dress and held it up to her, gesturing to Tommy in question. He gave her a straight faced nod, watching her slip herself into it, looking at her face in the mirror, only the moon to light her.

Nancy crept back out of the room, sliding across his warm chest, letting him close the door, that he did without making it creek, like an expert. ‘Is Pol okay?’

‘She’ll be cross and sore in the morning, but it will have been worth it, having us all together – and happy together,’ he said, looking her over with a gentle smile. ‘You better get going, service is only another few hours.’

‘The Garrison never closes on the Shelby’s,’ she whispered back with a roll of her eyes. ‘You really aren’t coming? It’s my birthday.’

He shook his head. ‘We’ve all stayed amicable this long. More drink and outside influences would crack that. You have a good time.’

She bit her bottom lip in. There was an overwhelming sense of rejection. ‘You used to never let me go anywhere.’

He tilted his head, his lips twitching a little. But he didn’t speak. He just looked.

Ridiculously, she was going to cry. So she said, ‘Alright, night, Tommy.’

‘Night, love,’ he murmured, examining the way her eyes were reddening, her cheeks too, the shine starting over those brown eyes. But he couldn’t speak. For once, he couldn’t speak. So, just as she turned to leave, he gripped her elbow and turned her to him.

Her heart and her lungs seized, and she had no idea why.

Then, Tommy pressed his lips firmly to her cheek, lingering there, holding her, his own eyes closed, his warmth sinking into her.

Then she was released, and cold.

‘Off you go to John now.’

She forced a smile and turned, walking to meet the others down the stairs, John just gathering the kids coats off them, telling them to share Finn’s bed tonight.

‘Looking smashing, Nance. Come on, my love,’ Arthur said, offering his arm. ‘You get the other side, Johnny boy. We’ve a woman to escort.’

John skipped to her other side, grinning, linking his arm through hers. The boys were laughing at the foot of the stairs.

‘Don’t let anyone kiss her!’ Jamie called and Teddy wholeheartedly agreed.

‘I’ll do me best to keep him off her,’ Arthur told them on his way out, while John turned and pointed at the boys, saying, ‘Get your arses to bed, now. And don’t wake Polly or the girls, will ya - Shut the fuck up, Arthur.’

But then he looked to Nancy, her eyes still a little glazed over, but her mouth pulled wide in a laughing grin. She met his eyes and rolled her own.

The fresh air was cold, and it sobered her up.

But she wasn’t sure if she could be pulled out of it – out of the smog of Tommy Shelby, no matter how clear her head, no matter what he was to her.

John, Nancy and Arthur walked like paper dolls up the street, arms wound together, stepping in tandem, laughing too. But once she let them go the bond would be broken. Tommy and her though, in her mind, in his too, were walking the stars of their subconscious in tandem.

Their souls stuck together at the sides, not all touching, but the bits that were, fused together like they came from one thing. Cut from the same piece.

There wasn’t a thought she had that didn’t lead to Tommy, what he’d think, what he’d say. Not a thing Tommy said or did that didn’t lead his mind to her, to keeping her safe, keeping her his. If Nancy was safe, so was he, in a small way. The small part of him that she held. The best part.

She couldn’t breathe him out now, not now she’d breathed him all the way in. No amount of cold air could sober her up from that.

But that night, she suspected that attempting to drink him out couldn’t do much harm. He’d encouraged it, really. Made it clear that she was to try. To go and try clear her head of him. The way she'd felt when he hadn't looked at her on the way up the stairs made her heart ache - truly ache in her chest, like she was sick.

But she'd be okay. She could see now, how in the fog she'd been.

‘And what for the lady, Nance?’

‘Three whiskeys please.’

‘It’s her birthday, Harry!’

Harry smirked, giving her a wink. ‘Take the bottle, love.’

Chapter Text

‘You’re young – you’ll recover quick.’

She must have groaned, she guessed. Her hands were over her eyes and she could feel the sun shining on her. Warm and musky. Muffled by her headache, she heard movement in the room and the sound of curtains being firmly shut. The world was dark around her again, and she removed her hands, seeing the shape of a man coming back to the bed and feeling the pressure change as he lay beside her with a sigh.

‘Fucking hell, like.’

Only the bed wasn’t small, and the room had just enough space around the bed to walk around. And it didn’t smell like dried flowers, or the funny smell Tommy’s room had sometimes.

Oh.

Arms wrapped around her hips, a face resting over her bare stomach. ‘How you feeling, Mary?’

Some wretched part of her felt guilty. Horribly guilty. Tearing down her throat, into her lungs, into her stomach, ripping her up from the inside. ‘Sick.’

‘Aw,’ John said with a light chuckle. ‘You sleep more – I’m gonna.’

Her hand landed on his hair, because the warmth of him against her was a nice contrast to her cold running blood.

‘Off you go to Johnny now.’

And she had. She’d moved around the pub with his hands plastered to her hips. They’d kissed in the snug. He’d got up, walked out of the room.

‘Oh, Arthur,’ she gasped and John pushed up, laying beside her, propped up on one elbow. She looked at him in the dark, just making out his face.

‘Yeah, he’s had a rough time of it,’ he said, brushing the hair behind her ears.

‘He came and told me when you were – where were you?’

John laughed, shaking his head. ‘Don’t say you can’t remember the night, Nancy. I’ll be gutted.’

She laughed tiredly, and it was a croaky thing. ‘I remember.’

And she could.

John had leaned in as she spoke to Harry at the bar, murmuring in her ear, finger tips brushing the pads of her fingers where her hand hung between them. And without it needing much thought, she’d linked their hands.

She’d blushed and laughed, the whole night. She’d loved it. Every moment of it. As long as she didn’t think about that moonlit look.

‘Off you go to Johnny now.’

She blinked hard, looking at John. ‘Oh god, what was I like?’

John smirked, eyes trailing her body, then flickering back to her. ‘Bloody perfect.’

She covered her eyes, shrinking back into the bed. She was still a bit drunk, she realised. It wouldn’t be the worst she felt today, she knew that.

John’s hot hands were pulling hers away from her face, his bare chest brushing up against hers, only a thin sheet between them. It felt a bit normal, really. She’d thought about their last meeting on a bed more times than she could count. Being in bed with him felt normal, more normal that it had with anyone else.

Because she was safe, and she knew him. But sometimes those things could be mistaken for others.

‘You’re beautiful, princess. You were funny too, a right charmer in the pub,’ he said, hovering over her, still holding her hands, shaking his head. His front was stuck to her side now, and she could feel the hardness of him against her.

It frightened her a little.

John was smiling at her so softly, so kind, eyes flittering over her face, thumbs caressing her hands where he held them bundled between them. ‘Can I kiss you?’ he whispered, eyes begging her for an answer.

‘Off you go to Johnny now.'

‘Yeah, of course you can,’ she said with a breath of laughter.

John grinned as he leant in, his hot firm chest pressing against her as his lips met hers. He was still grinning then too.

She vaguely heard the sound of the car pull up outside, but the sound of their breath, of the sheets pulling away, his soft groans of content drowned it all out. Until there was a thundering knock on the door downstairs.

‘Fucks sake,’ John muttered, pulling back. He kissed her once more. The room was lighter by then. She wondered vaguely how long they’d been kissing, and what kind of time in the day it could be. He’d pulled on trousers, not even doing them put fully as he opened the bedroom door and light shone into the room like he’d opened the gates to heaven.

‘Bloody hell,’ she mumbled, sitting up, feeling her head roll. Definitely in the mid point between drunk and hungover, definitely not enough sleep, and definitely not sober.

She could hear the muffled voices, and had a blurry flashback to Ada’s house. The police. Who else would bang on the door like that.

Oh.

She leapt from bed, holding the blanket up to her chest, pushing her hair out of her face as she moved to the window. Opening the curtains just a crack, her pupils shrank fast in the brightness, then when they focused, she met eyes with Thomas Shelby, stood outside his car, smoking, his leather gloves on, and his cap.

His face didn’t change when he saw her, in fact, it looked even more relaxed than normal. He was listening to John, who seemed irritated but not shouting, then replied, calmly, his expression still blank.

Nothing like their performance from earlier weeks in the pub. So they weren’t fighting.

He had wanted her to come here then, she realised. She knew she liked Tommy, but in that way she knew deep down it would never be like that between them. It was just a fancy. She liked his attention, and his doting. Imagined sometimes it came from a different place than it did.

But now he’d confirmed it, it stung a little. Left no room for fantasy.

John ran his hands through his hair, clasping them at the back of his neck, pacing a little, then looked to his brother, nodding and heading for the house.

Tommy leaned back against his car, looking both ways, waiting for something.

John was coming back up the stairs though, so she turned, laughing a little.

‘Was he angry?’

John gave her a small smile. He didn’t meet her eye, and he turned the lamp on at the bed side. ‘He’s gonna give you a lift home, Nance. We’ve business.’

Horrible. A horrible horrible feeling was creeping over her. ‘Is it something bad? You seem worried.’

John forced a breath out of his nose that she supposed was a laugh, and he shook his head as he pulled on pale grey trousers, saying low, ‘No, love. Just business, don’t you worry about us.’

She smiled a little to that, feeling overwhelmingly awkward now, scattering around the room trying to find her things. John lifted up her dress, passing it to her, and she watched him once she’d took it, the way his lips were dragging down from their usual grin to a straight line, how he wouldn’t meet her eye.

That same feeling came back, the same one from the night before when Tommy wouldn’t look at her on his way up the stairs. She nearly pressed him. But she didn’t. She didn’t know what the lads got up to. She didn’t want to know – had never wanted to know, even when ‘the lads’ was just Dan. She was ridiculous to think either of them thought her sex life meant more than their work - if they even called it that. What a silly little girl she was.

She dressed, smoothing her hair as best she could and licking her fingers to swipe under her eyes. John had stopped dressing when he’d got to his shirt and tucked it into his trousers, his shoes tied, shining at her when she looked at them. They were awfully nice shoes for the kind of day she could imagine him having.

‘You set?’ he mumbled, glancing around the room for any sign of her left.

‘Yeah, yeah, I think so.’ She was trying to be calm, a grown up. But, no she wasn’t. She could think of nothing worse that sitting beside Tommy in his car right now, right after rolling out of John’s bed.

John walked her down the stairs. His house was a mess, really. But lived in mess. She imagined him coming home from the pub, half cut, someone else having put his kids to bed, but him still having the mind to side up around the place ready for them waking up. That was in her head though. She knew he likely paid the neighbours to do it. He was a sweetheart in her head though.

He sucked in his bottom lip, stood at the open door, rubbing his forehead.

She could just see the nose end of the car out the door way. She swallowed, barely able to breath. ‘See you later?’

‘Yeah, Nance. I’ll see you later,’ he said, smiling in that little way again. He was speaking so softly, so not like John. He kissed her cheek, his hand on the small of her back, and even that felt strange to her. But she didn’t know why.

There were so many things she didn’t know though, about the Shelby’s, about Polly, about the world.

Tommy met John’s eye, staring straight past Nancy and to him where he leaned against the door frame, frowning to himself. Troubled, she would describe it.

Nancy glanced at him twice as she passed, but he didn’t even look at her. He must be furious, she thought. Another dangerous drive out to the country. Would he kill them this time?

Was he jealous? Or just controlling?

But he got in the car, starting the engine, and offered her a smoke. ‘Feel sick?’

Nancy looked to him, doe eyed. He watched the way her hand trembled as she reached for it. ‘Thank you, and yes.’

He let out a laugh, or a short grunt that was equal to one. It wasn’t because he found her funny, it was because he didn’t really care about her answer and didn’t want to talk about it. He knew giving Nancy two words meant getting ten back.

She smoked a little, but then leant her head out of the car window, breathing in the air of the day. There wasn’t too many people around. It was still early.

‘Polly’s making you a bath up,’ he said in a low rumble. ‘Then I want you to get dressed for a party.’

Her head snapped to him. ‘A party?’

‘Yes, love. A party,’ he confirmed flatly, but sending her half a smile.

She’d read him all wrong, after all. She sprang into the house on Watery Lane with new positivity, imaging a cake, music, dancing as she bathed.

Polly was in her room when Nancy went to hers to fix her hair and her face, and still was a good while later. The more she remembered John’s gentle touches, the better she felt.

She’d had sex, shared a bed with a man, herself with a man, and got nothing from it other than her own enjoyment. She wasn’t spoiled after all. All those hands that touched her were long gone. She'd been a little uncomfortable, but she hadn't broken. She was normal. She was a girl - a woman.

In her slip and her stockings, she was about to take two dresses to Polly when there was a knock at the door. ‘Yeah?’

‘Me, love,’ Polly mumbled in a fragile voice. She sighed out as she stepped into the room, dressed as nice as Nancy had ever seen her. ‘Package from his majesty.’

‘Are you the royal mail?’

‘Don’t bloody be clever – just because you’re the fountain of youth and bounce back from a night on the sauce faster than an old crone like me,’ Polly grumbled, but she had a twinkle in her eye. ‘Here.’

Nancy took the wrapped package, setting it on the bed and tearing it open to find a sparkling dress inside, tassels and stones and all. ‘Oh. Wow.’

Polly looked over her shoulder, brow raised, arms wrapped around herself like a hug. ‘Like his own little doll to dress up, aren’t you? It’s beautiful.’

Nancy lifted it out, agreeing. ‘Jesus, Polly. I thought he was gonna kill me this morning, and now this.’

‘He’s a complicated person,’ Polly said quietly, tucking a loose strand of hair away from Nancy’s face. ‘We’re leaving soon, alright?’

Nancy grinned. ‘Help me?’

Quiet moments like this were the ones that warmed Polly. She loved the glitz, and the sounds of a rowdy pub. But this, at home, with the girls or the kids. Helping them tie their hair or their dresses, stood in the kitchen together while one chopped and the other stirred. That’s what she lived for.

‘You’re gorgeous,’ Polly assured her, picking up one of the two coats she’d carried in with her. ‘Here, we’ll be outside.’

‘Where the bloody hell are we going, Pol?’

Polly shook her head, almost to herself, leading Nancy down the stairs. Tommy wasn’t there, but one of the boys.

He bundled them into the car and they set off out of the city.

Polly held Nancy’s hand on the way, but didn’t speak.

___________

Nancy had stopped smiling, by the time she saw the caravans. She’d went to speak, but Polly had only gripped her hand tighter, begging her not to.

‘Here you are,’ the Blinder said, opening the door on Polly’s side.

‘Come on, Nance,’ she said low, looking down as she flattened imaginary creases out of her dress. Nancy stayed sat sideways with her knees poking out the door, ready to climb out, but gazing at Polly until she looked at her.

‘Why are we here?’ she whispered to Polly’s frown.

Polly shook her head, holding out her hand. ‘I’ve got you, no matter what – alright?’ her eyes flitted to the fella still holding the car door open. ‘No matter what happens today, no matter what Thomas bloody Shelby says or does – alright? But you have to come. We’ve got to play into his hand sometimes, Nancy-girl.’

At the affection, Nancy took a breath and slipped out of the car, linking her arm through Polly’s and letting her lead her to the caravans.

They got closer, and closer. And they seemed to round a corner, and it wasn’t just caravans. There was an arch, and chairs. Peaky boys, travellers. Then Polly and Nancy, coming up to stand at the back.

She could see the back of Tommy’s head, somewhere near the front, but not anymore when Polly pulled her tightly down into a chair. She was still frowning, barely understanding, until she saw the pale grey suit.

‘Oh.’

Polly’s hand squeezed hers, her other wrapped around her arm above her elbow, squeezing her there too. ‘We’re alright.’

‘Yeah,’ Nancy muttered, because there wasn’t much else to say.

She wasn’t at a birthday party, and it was certain that Tommy and Polly both knew this was happening. John’s wedding, that is.

She couldn't even hear what was being said, all she could do was gaze straight forward, at all those caps.

Tommy stood up first to clap. She knew his hands, his wrists. They were above his head, in proper celebration. He even called out, but the words were drowned out by everyone else rising and cheering.

Polly dragged her up, clapping one hand against the back of Nancy's other that was still held tight in her own.

Jesus, she could be sick.

Chapter Text

Polly had kept hold of her, like she’d said. There were crates of bottles stacked up around the clearing, and Polly had grabbed them one each, tugging Nancy like a rag doll to stand at the edge of the festivities.

Polly was almost frantic, like she was a first responder and Nancy was a patient bleeding out. ‘You’re going to have three big swigs of that, a slow smoke, and then we will speak to who we have to, and I’ll take you home. Go on now.’

‘I’ll be sick, Pol, I swear,’ Nancy said with a grimace but poured back the liquor. ‘Fucking hell.’

‘Two more, come on,’ Polly mumbled through one side of her mouth, two cigarettes in the other side. She lit them both with one flame and gave one to her. She watched Nancy drink, frowning at her. ‘I know you slept at his – last night.’

Nancy squinted, watching the Lee’s building a big bonfire. They were all starting to stumble about already. Her face was all scrunched up. ‘I don’t think I’ve woke up yet, Pol.’

Polly, swallowing, looked passed her and to the approaching foot falls. ‘You’re about to.’

Nancy turned as Tommy approached with Arthur, who looked shiftier than ever, clearly uncomfortable. But his cheeks were flushed with the drink. He hadn’t held back the celebrating on her account. He’d been there the night before, telling her all his sorrows, how he’d tried to hurt himself. He’d cheered when John kissed her, waved them off when they headed back to his, blowing kisses and the lot.

‘Afternoon, girls,’ Tommy greeted smoothly, plucking up the bottle from Nancy’s hands and taking a drink. He gave a harsh breath outwards at the taste and smirked at her, ‘Bet this isn’t helping with the headache.’

They both knew, even Polly, who stopped for nothing, knew that an argument here was not the way to go about things. No whispering, no questioning. So instead of the thousand thoughts in her head, she said, ‘Nice day for a wedding.’

Tommy’s eyes were set on her, no longer ashamed and looking away. There was barely an ounce of worry on him. She could feel her eyes glazing over, so she looked away, and she hated herself for it. ‘If there are words to be had, we best have them now before we are all in the drink.’

‘Seems to me you’re all well in it already,’ Polly said darkly, her face smooth as a stone.

Tommy’s jaw clicked minutely, then he sighed, looking up and scanning the crowds. ‘You go say hello to Esme, Pol. She’s family now too. Best be letting her join in on your hen house.’

Polly stood, because she knew it had been an order. Her fingers grazed Nancy’s shoulder, just so, as she stepped to Tommy and gritted out, ‘You’re a shit.’

But then she was walking away, marching really, Arthur following after her. Tommy sniffed a little, coming to stand beside Nancy, hands in his pockets, watching the fire get built up too. She didn’t look at him on purpose, but also because she was still putting together in her head everything that had happened.

What had happened?

‘You need to stick by me tonight.’

Nancy scoffed and it was a nasty thing. ‘You’re fucked if you think I will.’

Tommy’s head tilted towards her. He took a calculated step in and leant down to her ear to murmur, ‘Well, you’re supposed to be my whore, aren’t you? Wouldn’t want the Lee’s thinking they’d been messed around.’

‘No, god forbid anyone feel like that around you, ey?’ she replied, turning her head to face his, coming within inches of him, his body still tilted down to hers.

Their eyes flittered back and forth, reading each other. She felt her expression begin to crease.

‘Why?’

His lips squirmed a little, but neither a frown nor a smile appeared. His eyes left hers and he stood straight again. He cleared his throat. ‘I needed them as allies. What you did just made them stop wanting to put a bullet in me.’

‘So now what I did for you was for nothing?’

If he was bothered by the way her voice came as a whimper, he didn’t show it. His face only firmed, his throat leaping as he swallowed, voice low and tone final: ‘And now you’ll never do it again. Won’t put yourself in harm’s way for me.’

Had that been what this was? A lesson for her? With the added bonus of gaining men?

‘So, this is my punishment then? Finally rolled around,’ she guessed, shaking her head, appalled. Then she looked at him, the way his expression hadn’t shifted, the way he looked so fucking calm. ‘I would do it again. You know I would, Tommy. Even now.’

His top lip curled for the fastest beat, and he seemed to cool his features again. ‘I need to know that if a man ever points a gun at me and he’s going to pull the trigger, you’ll step aside - not in front. If I have to build walls around you to stop you from doing it, I will, my girl.’

Nancy took a sharp breath in, holding it in, because she was afraid that if she blew it out the tears would start rolling down her face. The crackling fire was starting to grow. ‘You’ve made me feel so…’

‘Used? Well, you haven’t been. All that from before, it’s been undone now. I’ve fixed it. Made it the way it should have been. It’s like it never happened.’

‘It did happen though, Tommy,’ she said almost desperately, the lump in her throat staying right where it was, making her feel like she might be sick. But she was not going to cry. ‘It happened and I remember it because I was there. And it wasn’t just doing it, it was the thinking you were gonna kill me for it. The car, the caravan, it was all the same fucking thing.’

Someone who didn’t know him would have said his expression hadn’t changed. It was the tightening around his eyes, just the edges of his jaw lifting, his bottom lip just ever so pulling in, nostrils flaring. She’d reached him, at least.

She scoffed. ‘And poor John. I feel sorry for him.’

‘He knew as much as I did that it was going to happen,’ Tommy said, looking at her, finally, raising his brow.

‘What – when you knocked him up out of bed this morning with me still in it?’ she said with a laugh of disbelief.

Tommy’s face went flat again, blocking out all of his emotions so that he could better read all of hers. ‘Didn’t seem too shocked to you, did he?’

She looked over to where John was, dipping his new wife, laughing with her, holding her hands, his blue eyes sparkling. Clapping, all around them. No one would clap for anything Nancy had ever done with a man, she knew that much.

‘If I’d have sprang it on him this morning completely unexpected that he was getting married to the girl, do you really think that he wouldn’t have pulled a gun on me?’

‘Stop it, Tommy,’ she sighed with anger. It was all too much, all to much to think about, all too much to believe.

Nancy could feel herself paling. Her heart having beat so fast it was now barely there at all. She put a hand over it.

‘Why is it so hard to think that my brother would fuck you over but not me?’ Tommy asked, still calm, so calm.

She frowned at him, her whole face dragged upside down. It was so unnatural to see her that way that he nearly flinched. ‘Because every single person in that fucking house has told me that you will and I didn’t realise until now, but I’ve been waiting for it, and I’m actually fucking relieved it’s happened. The pedestal I put you on was getting a little high for me to polish.’

He’d ground his teeth while she spoke, wincing a little, but then he gave a firm nod, struggling to hide the pain to his heart. ‘Good,’ he said, strong and honest, ‘That’s good.’

Nancy scoffed, taking another swig from the bottle and swallowing harshly. She turned to walk away, but a hand gripped her wrist. She looked back to Tommy, and for the briefest moment he looked panicked. But he was smooth again now, firm.

‘I meant what I said. You’re with me tonight.’

Suddenly, he was her Tommy again. He looked like him aways. His face was straight, but it wasn’t cruel or sharp. He was softer somehow, and his grip loosened as she stepped closer.

There was a heavy silence that followed, and they both simply drank, watching the bonfire build up, Tommy greeting anyone that walked past tipping their hats to him. Nancy found herself actually stepping closer to him, keeping her head down.

She was ashamed.

‘Is he here?’ Tommy’s voice came, low and level, but edged.

She swallowed, eyes scanning the crowds. ‘I barely looked at him.’

His eyes raised the sky and he took a heavy breath in, letting it out slowly as he looked back down to the grass. ‘Come on, I’m sinking in here.’

Nancy looked at his muddy shoes and her sick mind imagined her cleaning them for him in the morning.

She stuck to his side, just behind his arm, reaching out and gripping it when they passed a group of younger drunk boys who were laughing loudly, shoving at each other. Tommy lifted his arm and wrapped it over her shoulders, bringing her into his side. She couldn’t tell if it was for her benefit or theirs now, but she welcomed the protection all the same.

Tommy was leading them past a circle of chairs and benches when a voice called his name. Tommy made a noise in the back of his throat, pulling her around with him. ‘Alright, Johnny.’

Only it wasn’t John. ‘Alright there, Tom – this’ll be the girl then will it?’

The man was grinning, and not in a sarcastic way. Curious, not cruel. ‘Nancy, this is Johnny Dogs. Johnny, Nancy.’

‘Ey, she’s a beauty Tom, a right beauty,’ Johnny said, holding out his hand to her. ‘Welcome, love.’

‘Thank you,’ Nancy forced with a smile, scanning the group behind him.

‘Ey, come sit with us,’ he said, gesturing backwards. ‘We’ve the best liquor – had it buried for two weeks so me bastard cousins couldn’t nick it before the big day.’

Tommy was already turning her away. ‘We’re gonna find Pol and Arthur, Johnny. You behave yourself now.’

‘Course not, this is a celebration. You enjoy yourself fella, and you bonny lass!’

He was already behind them, calling and waving. Tommy found them somewhere to sit, and he pulled her chair beside his, watching the crowds carefully. His eyes did the rounds, landing on Polly, Arthur, John, then the floor by Nancy’s feet. He did it over and over, slow, so no one else would notice, but she was watching him. She couldn’t help it.

She couldn’t figure in her head if he’d done something awful or if she was being over sensitive. Had her really pushed her to John the night before? It was all a blur now. Maybe that had been another one of her confusions. Why would he let her do that? Sleep with John knowing he’d be getting married today? Why did it feel like he’d made her?

Was she being tested? Did he want to see if she would do it? Or did he even care at all about it? Probably not.

It was probably all in her head, making things be there that weren’t.

She took a drink, grimacing at the taste, squeezing her eyes shut. But her bottle was empty. She scanned the scene, seeing a crate of bottles on the other side of the small camp fire in the centre of the ring where they sat. ‘I’m going for a drink.’

Tommy looked down at her, surprised she’d spoken, then looked forward to the boxes. He nodded once and watched her go, swaying slightly in her step. He had to stop making her get so drunk, he knew. But today called for it.

John appeared at his side, laughing about something, loudly, clutching one of the boys, telling him a story, blocking his view.

Tommy smiled at his brother, eyes flickering from him to the spaces between them, catching glimpses of her sparkling dress, her long hair. ‘Move, John.’

John stopped his laughing, frowning, but stepping to the side, revealing her returning with a bottle clutched in each hand, her face flushed from the fire. John licked his lips, slicking his hair back, but she didn’t even look at him.

Tommy watched the way she glanced over her shoulder, keeping her eyes on the crowds as she turned to sit down. But his hands reached for her hips, pulling her to stand right beside him.

‘What is it?’ he asked quiet and Nancy swallowed a little, eyes a little red rimmed.

‘Saw someone I knew,’ she said with meaning.

Tommy held her gaze for a few beats. ‘Come on,’ he said lightly, gripping his finger tips around her own and moving her around to sit on his knee. He sat her sideways on one leg, her legs between his own, arm around her back, keeping her there, her hair brushing over his arm. His other hand touched one knee, cold through her stockings.

Nancy had only really just realised who stood with them and focused on opening the bottles, handing one to Tommy and keeping the other close to her chest. She would not lean against him. She would not.

‘Congratulations, John,’ she said, pushing a smile, finally looking at him. ‘She’s beautiful.’

‘Yeah,’ he said, the word chased out by a breath. He was smiling a little, likely pleased she hadn’t screamed at him in the middle of his vows. But it struggled, his smile, watching her on Tommy’s knee, after everything. ‘You over the headache?’

‘I’m still here, aren’t I?’ she said, smiling as if it were a joke, and the Peaky boy laughed. Tommy smirked, looking at her face from his close view of the side of it, watching her trying to school her expression.

John breathed a laugh out his nose, but his eyes weren’t in it, looking her over lightly, then nodded to them. ‘I’ll catch you both later, yeah?’

‘You enjoy yourself, John,’ Tommy called, his fingers on her knee again, hand tightening on her as they walked away. She thought that it was him rubbing it in John’s face, but then he asked low, in her ear, almost urgent, ‘Where is he?’

‘He was over by the bottles, gone now.’

Tommy’s lips were still to her ear, but his eyes scanned the darkened field. ‘Did he speak?’

‘Asked if I was having a good night, his friends laughed at me, then I walked away,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Couldn’t talk.’

Tommy hummed in response, putting his forehead to her shoulder a second then lifting back up. He moved her closer, twisting her to face forward, but setting his hand spread across her stomach, pulling her back into him. ‘No one will laugh at you while you’re sat here.’

‘Laughing at myself,’ she grumbled, but didn’t move. The warmth of his hand was horrible and intense and lovely all at once. She didn’t know who to hate: Tommy, John, herself?

Tommy didn’t answer. He was too anxious. For everyone else the tension had ended as soon as the vows were said, but it would last for him. He didn’t trust, wouldn’t trust. Not yet. Not till he’d slept on it and woken up with all the pieces where they should be.

It was quiet, for a long time. His fingers had started to gently touch the beads of her dress, softly caressing her stomach. It was absent minded.

‘Thank you for my dress.’

His hand stopped, but then moved further around her. ‘The seamstress has your measurements. Got it made to fit.’

‘You went?’

He licked his lips. ‘Sent one of the lads.’

She nodded. It didn’t make a difference, really.

‘I’m sorry if you’re upset about John,’ he said softly, thumb rubbing against her again.

Her eyes welled up. ‘I’m tired, Tommy.’

‘Yeah,’ he said, swallowing and sitting up a bit straight from where he’d bent to speak to her ear. ‘A little longer, then we can leave.’

‘You don’t want to be here either?’ she asked and he shook his head.

‘Too much noise,’ he said as if he were admitting something, then looked at her, ‘I’ve got a headache too, see.’

‘Yeah?’

Tommy nodded. They were facing each other again, so close her breath fanned across his face. ‘I’ve upset you, and I can see you holding it all in. You’re a good girl, behaving here, yeah? I don’t mind you being mad at me, I know I can fix that. But I can’t fix a broken heart, Nance. So when we get home you can shout at me, yeah?’

‘I don’t want to shout at you, Tommy.’

In truth, she didn’t know what she’d shout. She didn’t know if any of it had been about her at all. He’d said he wanted to take away what she’d done, but she assumed it was a punishment, he said he needed the Lee’s properly on side, which made sense, but John had known? John who Tommy had pushed her to? Or just John who had kissed her in the pub? Who would have slept with her again this morning, given the time and chance?

Tommy kissed her cheek. ‘Well, when you’re ready let me know.’

Nancy twisted forward again, but leaned back heavily, putting a hand over his. However much of a mistake it was, she’d decide it in the morning. For now, she was hurting, and Tommy was the only one who could fix her when she was.

Chapter Text

Tommy had put her in the car then left to find Polly. Nancy leaned her head back, closing her eyes, even still while they got in. She knew he was looking at her because the car didn’t start, and she could hear his breath above all the noise of outside.

‘Don’t be sick in the car, Nance,’ he said finally, starting the engine.

Nancy glanced at him through squinting eyes and caught his troubled expression though, despite his uncaring words. She rolled her head backwards to meet eyes with Polly, who rose her brows ever so slightly. Nancy nodded. She was fine. Just fine. She just needed to sleep all this away, for it to be the next day so that whatever the last 24 hours had been would be over.

None of them spoke on the way home, and when they got there, Nancy opened her own door, despite Tommy usually doing it for her. He paused for a moment by the front of the car, watching her climb out and shut the door. She met his eyes, expression blank, moving on, hearing him sigh.

‘Alright, Ada?’ Polly asked, frowning. Ada was sat in the arm chair, reading, rocking the pram back and forth beside her.

‘Yeah, kids wouldn’t settle at mine, so I fetched them here. Hope that’s okay?’ she whispered back, sitting herself up and making ready to leave. She looked tired, bless her. ‘I just put the boys in with Finn and the girls in your bed, Nance – they said that’s how they stopped last night.’

Nancy blinked away her welling eyes.

‘Nance?’ Ada asked with concern.

Eyes turned to her and she turned her face from Tommy, looking at Polly instead. ‘I just want to go to sleep,’ she said in a small voice.

Polly gathered her to her chest, holding her and looking to Ada. But Ada wasn’t watching the women, she was glaring at Tommy, who started openly back. She rolled her tongue around the inside of her mouth, looking down, taking a breath.

‘You can come back and share with me,’ Ada said, but it wasn’t much an offer. More of an order, and not only just for Nancy. She gave Tommy a firm glance. ‘Been a while since I had a sleep over.’

‘I’ll drop you round,’ he said quietly, distracted, gazing at the ground. His head tilted lightly towards Nancy, though she was still turned away from him. ‘Go get your things.’

Nancy wiped her eyes, sniffing a little, but went. Her spine was straight, shoulders square, moving passed him in a breeze. She tiptoed up to her room, collecting up a night gown and spare clothes for the next day. She heard the creak on the stairs. She’d been expecting it really. Or was it hoping?

But when she came out to the corridor it was Polly, on her way to bed. She gave her a tired frown. ‘You’ll be alright at Ada’s?’

Nancy nodded, not daring to open her mouth. There were so many things in her head she was afraid to speak in case they all came tumbling out.

Polly pressed her lips together. ‘Good night, love.’

‘Thanks, Pol,’ she whispered, kissing her cheek and slipping away.

Tommy and Ada were getting Karl’s basket in the back seats, and Ada slipped in next to him, so Nancy was forced again into the front.

When they pulled up outside, Tommy audibly swallowed, then said, ‘I’ll just have a word with our Nance. You go in Ada. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?’

Ada’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t see Nancy protest, so she nodded, taking herself and Karl into the flat with a final glance back before shutting the door.

Nancy had been fiddling with the strap of her bag, sitting in her lap, and continued to while Tommy kept his hands on the wheel, staring out to the street.

‘You could have had my bed,’ he said, low, barely understandable is was so deep.

Nancy shook her head softly, and he blinked a little, looking to her.

‘Why not?’

‘Because I can’t figure out if I’m supposed to be angry with you or not.’

‘Feeling’s aren’t a choice, Nance. They’re either there or they’re not,’ he reasoned, watching her fingers picking at the threads.

‘Yeah, well my feelings haven’t figured out where they are. It’s all happened so fast that I haven’t caught up yet.’

Tommy lifted his eyes from her, staring passed her instead, because the cold, emotionless way she spoke to him, the way she looked, was haunting. He could feel his heart thumping faster, starting to panic. ‘What if I told you everything that had happened – would that help you decide?’

‘What if I don’t like it?’ she asked, finally looking at him.

His eyes flickered back to hers. ‘Then at least you’ll be angry, and I can calm you down, or upset, and I’ll cheer you up.’

‘Will you apologise?’

Tommy nodded lightly, but his expression was grave. She nodded him to continue and he faced forward with a long sigh. ‘We had dinner last night and all got very drunk. You went to John’s and stayed over. He got married today to one of the Lee’s.’

Nancy waited patiently for the explaining part to come. Tommy shifted in his seat, wiping his palms on his trousers. Uncomfortable under her gaze. Nancy was like John usually, heart on his sleeve, feeling everything to the fullest. But this void was terrible.

He cleared his throat. ‘I sorted the wedding with the Lee’s two weeks ago. John didn’t know when it was going to happen. But he’d agreed to marrying her.’

‘When?’ She hated that it came out a whisper.

Tommy started, wide eyed, unmoving. ‘After we found out you’d been to them yourself. Same day.’

Her eyes rolled up to the sky, welling again, nodding.

‘I needed those lads, Nancy. Still do.’ He closed his eyes, shaking his head a little, then looked back to her.

‘Last night – last night you told me to go with them, to the pub. To go to him. You weren’t even surprised of angry or anything this morning when you picked me up,’ Nancy rushed out, wiping her cheeks. Tears were falling rapidly, but she was keeping herself otherwise controlled – on the outside at least.

‘You can do what you like,’ Tommy said in a breath, looking down, exhaling slowly. He was shaking his head a little again.

Nancy gazed at him. ‘You and I both know that isn’t true.’

Tommy’s eyes squeezed shut. He was silent for a beat, then he looked ahead. ‘I didn’t know you’d do it, but then you did, and I wasn’t surprised. So, there’s that.’

‘I thought that you wanted me to,’ she gasped out in whimpers. She was so tired. There was no raging fire in her tonight, just a small fragile flame flickering in the great cavern inside her.

‘I wanted you to come back – to go and come back,’ he finally admitted, then leaned his head back and sighed, eyes wide to the roof of the car. ‘Fucking hell, Nancy.’

She was freezing, all of a sudden trembling in her seat. ‘I’ve got to go, Tommy.’

‘No, no, we’re not finished,’ he said, gripping her wrist, finally looking at her again, his expression wild. ‘I’m sorry for John, alright?’

‘Which part? Marrying him to her, or for pushing me onto him the night before he did?’

‘He wasn’t for you!’ he raised his voice. ‘I told him you weren’t for him. He didn’t fucking know he was going to get married today either.’

‘He knew he was going to though, didn’t he. So what difference does that make? You knew, Tommy. You did. Because you planned this all out. Get me out the whore house, get me out of work, give me to John then get me away from him too. Now what? What else can you take from me?’

‘I don’t want to take, Nancy,’ he promised, shaking his head, eyes desperate. ‘You know I needed those boys for Kimber.’

‘I know nothing, Tommy! Nothing! I don't have a fucking clue about any business, any deals. I keep out of it because you want me to! And you knew last night that I might go back with him, knowing fine well he’d be getting married today! The first time I shared a bed with a man without it being for fucking money and you’ve made it ugly.’

He grimaced, and it was a terrible thing. He still had hold of her, and Nancy was barking now, tears streaming.

‘What was the payment this time? Was I to sweeten the deal? You let him have a chance to bed me a final time before he married for your benefit?’

‘The benefit of the family – of all of us,’ he said without hesitation, his stomach turning when he saw the horror in her eyes.

They gazed at each other, panting, tearful, honest, finally.

‘You made me feel like I should do it, Tommy,’ she whispered. ‘Made me feel like I should, so I did, and you knew I would if you asked me to – just like he said.’

‘It’s not the same,’ he murmured, shaking his head. ‘It’s not the same, Nancy.’

She sniffed, pulling out of his grip gently, wiping her face which relaxed into a sad smile. ‘One of the girls said I’d never escape the whorehouse, you know. That people would be able to smell it on me.’

‘You are not a whore,’ he ground out.

‘No, I am, Tommy,’ she said, smiling at him with both pain and acceptance at all that had happened. ‘I just do it for you now instead of me. I’m yours.’

‘No, Nancy,’ Tommy begged, shaking his head, watching with horror as she readied herself for getting out of the car.

‘Tommy Shelby’s whore,’ she muttered, breathing a hollow laugh. ‘I’m going to bed. I’ll be home tomorrow.’

‘Nancy, fucking stop!’ he barked as the door opened, then begged, leaning across, ‘Get back in the car, Nancy. I’ll take us back now. We can talk, please. Come on.’

‘I don’t want to talk to you right now,’ she said plainly, though a shooting pain ran from her chest right to the back of her throat. ‘Night, Tom.’

Tommy yanked open the car door, running around the other side and towards the door, but as Nancy slipped inside, Ada appeared, blocking the way.

‘You go up and get changed, Nance.’

‘Ada – let me in this fucking door - now.’

‘She doesn’t want to talk to you, Tom,’ she said, crossing her arms over her chest. ‘And I’ve a baby upstairs, so you wont be forcing your way up. She needs to sleep off whatever it is you’ve done to her – which I’m assuming is something pretty fucking awful considering she’s coming to me over the chance of staying at home with you. Go home.’

Ada’s heart twanged a little for her brother. She’d not seen that look in his eye before. ‘Please, Ada?’

She looked him over, frowning at him, softly saying, ‘Go home, Tom. She’ll speak to you tomorrow.’

Before she could crumble and give in, Ada shut the door, covering her eyes with her hands and sighing against her palms. She waited until his car started up, afraid he’d burst in any moment. But when she heard the engine rumbling, she went up the stairs and into her flat.

Nancy was curled up at the edge of the sofa, a blanket flung over her, sending her a soft smile. Her face was all blotchy, eyes tired and swollen.

‘Come on, it’s a double bed,’ Ada said, moving to the kitchen first a filling a cup of water. She righted herself as she did, perking her voice up. ‘Karl might wake up, I’m sorry. I’ll sort him as quiet as I can. Let’s hide out here tomorrow, then Monday breakfast and a bit of shopping? I'll teach you my best tricks for avoiding the Blinders.’

Nancy nodded a little, taking the water and sipping from it as she walked. ‘Thanks, Ada. For letting me stay.’

‘I meant what I said,’ she said, looking to her with raised brows, a no-nonsense expression. ‘I haven’t had a sleep over for ages. Come on, I’m bloody knackered from looking after them kids.’

‘When did they ask you to watch them?’ Nancy asked softly, only half wanting to know.

Ada fluffed the pillows, and spoke with a hint of regret in her voice, ‘Before I went home after your birthday festivities. Arthur asked, but it was Tommy.’

Nancy nodded knowingly, climbing into bed.

‘I didn’t know it was happening until today, cause Pol told me.’ Ada lay down beside her, on her side, resting her cheek in her hand, looking at Nancy’s expression, trying to figure her out. She looked like Tommy really. Haunted, thinking so much it was just a hum. ‘She only found out this morning too.’

‘I’m not mad at either of you. Tommy’s your real family, and you’ve got to protect yourselves too,’ Nancy said, turning to Ada with a soft smile. ‘You’re a good friend, Ada.’

‘And you’re a good person,’ she stressed, ‘Who doesn’t deserve being messed around with by my shithead brother.’

Nancy managed a huff of laughter, and Ada took that as a strong sign she’d be alright, so she told her so.

‘Sleep, Nancy-girl. We’ve men to fight off in the morning.’

And she did.

Chapter Text

‘What do you think?’

‘I think that he is a shit, Nancy,’ Ada said with confidence, shaking her head. ‘Come on.’

Nancy slipped back into her coat and they left the café, Karl being pushed along as he moaned and wailed. ‘You take him home if you want, Ada. I’ll go get some supplies for dinner?’

Ada frowned. ‘Don’t be looking like that, all questioning whether it’s alright for you to stay another night. I’ve already had you for two, you might as well stay another.’

Nancy chuckled and they parted ways. The day before, Ada had let her sleep most the day. None of them got dressed, and they both cooked a meal fit for kings and ate at the table, Ada with her night gown pulled down, feeding Karl, dropping crumbs on him.

Nancy held him too, letting Ada eat while her food was still a little hot. Then Ada and Karl, who’d both been up multiple times in the night, went to sleep for a good few hours in the afternoon. Nancy had read, one she’d not read before, and it was too smart for her really. Too much to think about. Ada was just as smart as she seemed and far more caring.

They’d pottered the morning away, even speaking to a few people Ada knew in the street, people Nancy had ever even seen. There was a whole world she knew nothing about out there.

Gladly, or not, she hadn’t heard anything from the Shelby’s, or even Polly.

‘Hey there, Nancy, isn’t it?’

She looked up and around, seeing a familiar face and smiling. ‘Oh, hey Georgie. How is your day?’

‘Better for seeing you, Miss Owen, on a Monday of all things!’ he said with a grin. ‘I hear John-boy’s got married, ey?’

‘Oh yeah, she’s pretty,’ she said, feeling the air blow out of her a bit, but she had her polite head on, all smiles and nods. ‘Are you at work?’

‘Aye, lunch break,’ he said, looking both ways up the street then tipping his head in gesture. ‘Where you off to?’

‘Picking up dinner,’ she said with a scrunch of her nose, knowing she was so uninteresting and so awkward it was painful. She imagined what she must have seemed like to him when she was drunk and how utterly disappointed he must be.

But Georgie was a professional socialiser, a charmer as they’d said, and simply tipped his hat, wished her well, and went along his way. But then she heard, ‘Oh, Nancy?’

She turned, raising her brows to him.

‘You’ve got a hole in your stockings, love,’ he said apologetically, but smiling still. He turned then and left, and she looked down at the ladder in her tights.

‘Fucking –‘ she let out a sigh and looked around, swapping her handbag into the other hand and holding it down over her leg as she walked towards the seamstresses.

The bell dinged and the girl looked up from folding fabric. ‘Good afternoon. Can I help?’

Nancy cringed, revealing her holy stockings. ‘I need a couple of new pairs, I think.’

The woman giggled, but gestured her back. ‘Come with me, I’ll grab you some and you can change here before you go back out on the streets.’

‘Thank you,’ Nancy laughed a little embarrassedly, shuffling through to the dressing room.

‘Black and nude?’

Nancy counted in her head how much money she had with her. ‘One of each, please.’

The woman moved back through, handing her both, giving her a big grin. For some reason, it made Nancy want to cry.

When Ada had left her on the street, she’d felt a bit of a panic set in, a need to get home again. Then Georgie had been so nice, but then the hole. And now this girl, who she hadn’t seen ever, was being so kind. It was her job, she knew. Yet still, she welled up, slipping out of her shoes and stockings and into new ones.

She looked at herself in the mirror, in all her new clothes, shining shoes. A changed person.

‘Have you got a bin?’ she asked as she moved out of the back.

The girl gestured to it and moved to the till. ‘Do you have an account?’

‘Oh, no,’ Nancy said, embarrassed again. She’d never bought enough to warrant an account needing made.

‘Can I take your name, lovely?’

‘Nancy Owen,’ she said, looking up to check the price on the wall then counting out her coins.

‘Oh – Miss Owen, you have an account with us.’

Nancy looked at the girl, hearing the hesitation in her voice. ‘I do?’

‘Mr Shelby settled the last payment on it, but when he was here to pick up the dress he said to keep it open in case you needed anything else – and here you are,’ she said, pushing her smile a little at the end.

Nancy knew it wasn’t dislike, it was discomfort. She now saw Nancy differently. Before they were just two young girls talking, now they were something different. But Nancy, after all, was only human, and instead of making the girl more comfortable by acting completely airy and normal, she asked, ‘Mr Shelby comes in himself?’

‘Just for you,’ she assured her quickly. She looked through the books. ‘We had your measurements from you visiting with Mrs Grey? He asked us to use those and to charge to a separate account.’

Nancy closed her eyes, feeling that tired feeling again. ‘But he came in – himself – and chose fabrics? Looked at dresses?’

She giggled a little, shaking her head. ‘He comes in and picks the fabric. He let’s us choose the dresses. It’s fun for the girls, see. Because they get to make what they like without being bossed about too much. He’s – he’s kind, Miss Owen.’

‘He can be,’ Nancy said softly, then sighed. ‘So I don’t have to pay?’

The shop girl shook her head, lips pressed together. ‘Do you need anything else while you’re here?’

Nancy looked at all the beautiful things, the fabrics and the stones and the stockings and the hats. ‘No, thank you. You’ve been wonderful.’

‘Thank you, Miss Owen. You’re mighty lucky to have a man like that – most wouldn’t set foot in here. If you don’t mind me saying.’

‘Oh, he’s not my man – he’s like family.’ She forcefully swallowed the lump in her throat that made her voice crackle.

The girl nodded, unsure, but smiled and wished her a good day as she left.

Nancy walked half way back to Ada’s before realising she hadn’t gotten anything to eat, then had to turn around again, heart hammering all the way.

Fucking dresses. Fucking stockings. Fucking Thomas Shelby.

All she really wanted in the world was a hug from Dan. He wasn’t always wise with words, but when he wrapped his great big arms around her, she could pretend for a minute that she was small again, with no worries, no fears.

But what was she really worrying about? Yes, awful things had happened, but they were done now. Tommy actually wanted to reconcile with her if she’d let him, the strange relationship with John was finished. If anything, there was at least that silver lining.

‘Alright, love.’

‘Hi Simon,’ she greeted the grocer. They were on close terms now, her and Simon. ‘Just carrots, onions and potatoes please.’

‘Stew, is it?’ he asked as he moved around. ‘For four – or eight?’

‘Oh, two,’ she said, forcing her smile again. ‘Thanks, Simon.’

‘Ere, I’ll double it up, you cook double and hot the rest up tomorrow,’ he said, handing her the bags with a wink, ‘Same price though.’

She smirked, taking out her coins and handing them over. Then she was outside again in the open air, closer to Watery Lane than she had wanted to be. She was headed on her way back, when out of the corner of her eye she could see someone looking at her.

She hardly recognised him at first. Ethan, with a nose that had been clearly broken, and a healing cut from the corner of his jaw and up and across his nose. She gasped, but he came no closer.

It haunted her though, even as she cooked with Ada, and ate, and cleaned up. She was talking herself into feeling sorry for him, but then remembered what he was.

A slime, who tried to coax a vulnerable young girl into his care after paying her for sex and forcibly walking her around the city.

She needed to stop thinking everything was her fault. She wasn’t an imposter. She was Nancy. She was Nancy Owen. A person, no matter how other people treat her. She knew what she was.

That night, there was a knock on the door.

Ada looked at Nancy, frowning, picking up her bowl and carrying it over to the window. ‘It’s Tom.’

Nancy watched her send her brother a flat smile, lips pulling at the sides, but not upwards. ‘I suppose it’ll be time for me to go.’

‘You stay as long as you like,’ Ada said firmly, then softened a little, ‘Will you talk to him though? At least to see what he wants? I cant have him breaking the door down.’

‘For you, I will,’ Nancy said with a smile. She moved downstairs, actually able to feel that he was outside the door before she clicked it open. ‘Hello, Tommy.’

‘Hello, my girl,’ he breathed out with relief, hands opening and closing at his sides, lifting his heels lightly. He swallowed, watching her with apprehension. ‘You ready to come home?’

She nodded gently, watching him stop his own face from lighting up. ‘I’ll fetch my bag.’

‘I’ll get it, you get in the car,’ he said, clearing his throat, all professional. He slipped passed her and up the stairs. ‘Ada.’

‘Thomas,’ Ada greeted back, furrowing her brow at Nancy who had followed him back up.

‘Just this bag?’ he called from the bedroom, bent down in his three piece suit and over coat, closing the clasps on her suitcase.

‘Yeah, then just my coat,’ she said, but looked at Ada with as much confusion. But Ada smirked as she chewed, shaking her head as Tommy came back into the room.

‘He didn’t want you to come back up for your own bag in case you changed your mind and stayed up here.’

Nancy rose her brows, looking to Tommy and who took in a big breath, his own brows half way up his forehead.

‘Thank you for having her, Ada,’ He said, peaking in at Karl who slept in his basket. Then he turned back, nodding at Nancy to follow. ‘See ya.’

‘Bye!’ Ada called sarcastically, rolling her eyes and coming to hug Nancy close. ‘He pisses you off, you come straight back here. Yeah?’

‘Thanks, Ada.’ Nancy gaze her a real genuine smile, tilting her head. ‘You’re going to do great, you know, no matter what happens with Freddie. I know you want him home. But you’re alive without him too. You’re a wonderful mother.’

Ada’s eyes were glassing over, so she rolled them. ‘Go on, before he comes back up and drags you down.’

Nancy smirked, kissing her cheek. ‘Bye, Ada,’ she said, then whispered, ‘Bye, Karl.’

Tommy was revealed to her as she came down the stairs, a bit at a time. First his shining shoes, his crossed ankles, his trousers, then his hands, a cigarette in one, and his pack in the other, ready to hand her. Then his mouth, straight, waiting, slightly parted, a stream of smoke trailing out of it. His eyes next, one the outside looking calm, but she knew he was worried.

He handed her the pack, opening the door and taking her bag before she climbed inside, then he put that in the back, walking around to his own side of the car with the fag between his lips.

They drove a little way in silence. ‘I thought I’d come get you before Ada devised a plan to escape you both to New York or London. Would have took a lot more effort getting you back then.’

‘If I’d have gone all the way to New York to get away from you I hope you’d leave me well alone,’ she said, trying not to chuckle.

But Tommy was smirking, shaking his head. ‘Of course, I wouldn’t. I’d steal a boat and sail over.’

‘My hero,’ she said, rolling her eyes.

Tommy settled a little, clearing his throat. ‘Did you get the sleep you needed, Nancy?’

She nodded, rolling her head to look at him. He looked back, slowing the car to a stop. He was smiling at her, in his most gentle way.

‘I’m sorry for upsetting you, for making you angry.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, eyes flitting between his. ‘But I’m not okay with what’s happened, but there is no point in talking about it, because you’re smart enough to know how shit you’ve treat me.’

‘Remind myself every hour,’ he said in a low mumble. ‘Won’t forget any time soon.’

Nancy’s lips tugged lightly up at the sides. ‘Good. That’s good.’

See, even as Tommy smiled at her, in his soft, loving way, Nancy took it in differently than she had before. She knew now that Tommy never wanted her to go to the Lee’s, or if he did, he regretted it as soon as it happened. She’d likely never know if he did knowingly push her onto John the night before the wedding. Why he didn’t prewarn her. If it was all in her head.

John himself was a whole separate issue.

‘Tommy,’ she spoke as they reached Watery Lane. He looked at her, once, then again, seeing her expression, hearing the tone of her voice. ‘Why didn’t you tell me John would be getting married? I’ve been made to look a fool. I know I did that to you – I know I did. But I didn’t think you’d do it back. It's all I really want to know.’

Tommy pulled the car over. Keeping his hands on the wheel as he sighed, dropping his head and closing his eyes a moment.

Nancy watched him closely, eyes as big as a doe, frowning hard. ‘It’s all I want to know. Why'd you let me do it?’

His eyes were still closed, and he licked his lips, taking a final breath before lifting his head and staring out of the front window, squeezing his hands on the wheel. ‘I said the other night – that I wanted you to go and come back, didn’t I?’

She nodded when he looked at her briefly, shocked by how tired he looked all of a sudden. He smelled like that funny smell again – how Dan sometimes smelt.

‘You wouldn’t have gone if you knew – then I’d have never known if you’d come back to me.’

Tommy’s eyes settled on hers, fear and relief skittering across them as he read her face for reaction.

Her heart was sinking, feeling like it was spinning as it did. Her meaning of what he was saying had to be wrong – it had to be. But the longer they stared at each other, the more real it seemed. Her voice came out in a raspy whisper, ‘Why, Tommy?’

He sniffed, looking forward again. ‘Wanted to know how you felt about him.’

She scrunched her face up. ‘You couldn’t have just asked me?’

She was wrong, she was wrong, she was wrong and she was so stupid.

Tommy let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. ‘You’re never going to forgive me, are you?’

When he looked up, after a longer stretch of silence, she was frowning at him with a look of pity which he hated.

‘Probably not, Tommy,’ she admitted, and she knew it was a lie as soon as it left her lips. She’d thought it was the truth, until she said it. She wished it was true. She wished she didn’t get some satisfaction from the hurt look on his face, the same she wished it didn’t make her heart twinge.

He was scratching his head, closing his eyes, then the front door was opening and Polly was stepping out into the street.

‘Your majesty, welcome home,’ she greeted, tugging the door open.

Nancy gazed at Tommy, who nodded for her to get out of the car and mumbled, ‘I’ll fetch your bag.’

Nancy whispered a thanks back, but he was looking out of the window, waiting for them to go in the house before he moved.

He didn’t come inside for a good twenty minutes, and he only set her bag in her room and left again out the front.

Polly rubbed her lips together, watching Nancy listening to the front door closing.

‘I’m going to go put my stuff away before it creases,’ Nancy said and moved from the room without much a glance or an ounce of effort to make Polly think she was alright. There was something cold about the girl, like she’d grown up and gotten harder. The softness was gone.

A while later, Nancy was in her room, hanging up her clothes, folding other clean things for the drawers, humming to herself, the window open, letting fresh air in. She knew Polly was in the doorway, but she pretended she didn’t, waiting for her to speak.

‘Nancy.’

‘You okay, Pol?’

Polly stepped into the room, sighing, looking around. ‘Room’s too small for you.’

Nancy smiled, tightly, but warm. ‘It’s been a fine room, Polly.’

‘Has been, has it? Either you’re moving over to Tommy’s or you’re setting to leave. I can see the heat on your feet like a rash,’ Polly accused her, but she wasn’t bitter. She looked out the window, down at the street. ‘You can’t go anywhere until after this Kimber stuff is done. After the Inspector is gone for sure and we know he is. Tommy’s only sane with you. I’ve heard the way he plays. He's not perfect but we'll all be damned if he loses it before this is all tied up.’

Nancy met her eye, jaw set, blinking to make sure she wasn’t going to cry. ‘He’s desperate to hold onto that part of himself, so he holds onto me. But all this talk, all his desperation for the next best thing – it’s not going to happen, is it? There is always going to be shit, Polly. Always something else.’

She nodded in agreement, expression dark. ‘He’ll go mental.’

‘You’re not going to stop me?’

Polly closed her eyes. ‘As a part of this family, I should be chaining you up here and getting a fulltime guard on you. But as a woman – I’m keeping quiet. You’re worth more than being John’s live-in-fuckable-nanny, and you haven’t seen enough of the world to get pulled so deeply into Tommy’s if you aren’t ready for it being forever, for it being all of it, not just the sweet bits.’

‘He is sweet,’ Nancy said sadly, then she wrapped her arms around Polly. ‘You’re like a mum to me, Pol. I know it’s been – well – strange. But I love you.’

Blinking away the wetness in her eyes, Polly asked, ‘Have you told Tommy you love him?’

‘Course I have,’ Nancy said, as if it were an easy thing, leaning away and smiling at her. ‘Let’s go make dinner, ey?’

Polly watched her walk out, easy as a breeze. Nothing stuck to Nancy. Not a bad thought or a bad memory. She’d already soaked up all the good stuff to keep hold of the bad. So, she followed her down to the kitchen and they cooked dinner, and Tommy didn't come home until Nancy was well asleep.

He leaned against the door frame, watching her, frowning, the moonlight casting shadows below his cutting cheekbones and tired eyes.

'Welcome home, my girl,' he murmured.

Chapter Text

Nancy woke the next morning, with a feeling of peace – peace! Of all things. The thought of John did nothing but infuriate her, which was helpful, because it meant it didn’t hurt – that he didn’t hurt. She was ashamed, embarrassed, but mostly real fucking angry.

She couldn’t think straight when she imagined Tommy and how she felt about him, so she simply didn’t. Or, more correctly, she spent the time it took her to get ready thinking about how much she couldn’t think about him, which, in itself, was a great tiring effort.

‘You alright, love?’ Polly asked from behind the newspaper, frowning a little at her.

‘Headache,’ Nancy said, waving her hand in dismissal as she moved to make a cuppa. She didn’t feel much like eating, in fact, she’d barely felt human since she opened her eyes. The faster this Kimber stuff was dealt with, the faster Dan was ready, the better. It was her only plan. Dan was the plan, and if he wasn’t ready or willing to have her, her idea of staying here was one she’d written off days ago. She couldn’t possibly.

‘Seems like a severe case of T. Shelbyitus to me,’ Polly quipped with a chuckle which grew into a bark.

Nancy breathed a laugh, shaking her head as she stirred her cup. She lifted it to her lips, just as the back door swung open.

Jamie and Katie marched in, all in an uproar. Katie was shouting, ‘Aunt Polly! We don’t want that lady in our house!’

‘She said Teddy and Katie are too little to play out, so Teddy cried and stayed home,’ Jamie explained, as if Esme had threatened to send them all down the pits.

‘So why are you here?’ Polly asked, pointing two fingers with a cigarette between them at little Katie, raising her brows.

‘I told her to piss off! She’s NOT my ma and she’s NOT telling me what to do!’ Katie looked to Nancy, with an expression that was scarily similar to looks she’d seen Ada give in the past. ‘You were supposed to marry him! Why didn’t you?!’

‘Oh, Katie,’ Nancy sighed out, taking to her knees in front of her as the little girl began to well up. ‘Hey, listen, your da wouldn’t marry someone awful, would he?’

‘She’s a wicked witch, not letting me play out,’ Katie grumbled, but the tears began to fall.

‘She was a right bitch this morning,’ Jamie sighed, as if he were a man grown, a hand on his hip, the other on the back of a chair.

Polly whipped the paper across his arm and growled out, ‘You don’t speak about her like that. You don’t have to call her ma, you don’t even have to like her. But you’ll do as your told. She’s in charge of your house now, and you know better than calling a woman names.’

‘Sorry, Pol,’ he murmured, looking truly ashamed. ‘She said she was going to belt Katie when she came home. Am not taking her back there.’

‘She wont, I’m sure,’ Nancy said softly, holding Katie in her arms. ‘But Polly is right. You have to do as you’re told. Esme is going to be cooking all your dinners, washing all your clothes, making sure you’ve got everything you need. Isn’t that going to be nice?’

‘I want you to,’ Katie wailed. ‘I want you to take us to school again and do my hair in the mornings!’

‘I – I can’t, Katie,’ Nancy said, choking up a little. She looked to Polly for help, who frowned.

‘The two of you need to go home and apologise, now,’ she ordered, but gave Jamie a look of sympathy. ‘She won’t know yet that your da lets you all go out. You just ask him to tell her it’s okay, right? She’ll do what he says.’

Polly pulled a secret wince at Nancy. Neither of them actually knew a single thing about Esme, apart from who she came from, that she was bonnie, and she’d gone off the rails and needed to get married to sort herself out.

‘Is da in the shop? He’s not at home,’ Jamie asked, sounding a little choked himself. He was looking at Nancy, and she felt like she might cry.

Katie clung to her as she rose, sighing, swallowing. ‘Let’s go see, shall we?’

Polly watched her walk them through, thinking she’d be a damn good mother one day.

Nancy had Katie on her hip, and Jamie pressed tight into her other side as she walked through to the shop, willing herself to be strong. But the minute she was over the threshold, she felt her confidence take hold. She was the only person not in the wrong, in this entire situation. And this was a room where she was well known and well liked, and if John wanted to be a prick to her in it, she could easily be twice a prick back.

He was stood by Scudboat, clearly not been there long, chatting away when Scud nodded in gesture to them. Nancy didn’t wait for him to approach though, didn’t let his frown stop her in her tracks, and marched his children right to him.

‘What’s happened?’ he asked Jamie, who likely, in his eyes, took rank over Nancy.

‘Esme said we weren’t allowed to play out – well, that Katie and Ted couldn’t,’ he said tightly, glaring at his father. ‘She says she’s going to belt Katie when she gets home for leaving without permission.’

John looked to Nancy, as if asking why she was there at all, but she could see his defensive stature was through embarrassment and fear, hopefully a bit of shame too.

‘I said I’d come with them into the shop to look for you, is all,’ she said. She did not want him to think she was poking her nose in, or having any say how he raised his kids, and especially not how Esme was going to raise them. But looking at him, oh she could scream.

John’s mouth twitched, but he said nothing, instead looking to Jamie. ‘Get home, now. Tell Esme if she puts a hand on her I’ll belt her myself when I get in.’

Katie grinned at that. ‘Can you tell her me and Teddy are allowed out?’

‘Anything, darling,’ he replied with a small smile. Katie scurried down, after kissing Nancy’s cheek, and she and Jamie made it almost to the door before she rushed back, wrapping arms around her dad, pulling him down to her and whispering loudly in his ear, ‘I wish you married Nancy.’

John nodded, clearing his throat. ‘Get home, go on. Be nice – or I’ll belt ya, yeah?’

‘Love you!’ Katie called as she made it to the door, ‘Bye Nancy!’

‘Bye Princess!’ Jamie called, then, ‘Bye, dad!’

Nancy waved, chuckling, acting as unaffected as she could as John looked to her with a frown.

‘Supposing you hate me now then?’

She shrugged, smiling simply. ‘If I started listing all the things I thought about you, John, neither of us would get anything done today, and you’ve obviously got your hands full, so I’ll leave you to it.’

She didn’t let him answer, turning instead and making way for the door.

‘You’re obviously going to have a go at some point!’ he called, voice raised, but it was all strain and stress. ‘Might as well do it now!’

Turning, she stopped her sneer and replaced it with a look she hoped was uncaring, but it came across firm. ‘Don’t for a minute think I’m going to go out of my way to make you more comfortable, John Shelby. You can think on it a while longer, suffer a bit for it. Then, when I see you’re just about a quarter of the way to realising how shit you are, I’ll let you know the full story! Now, kindly, fuck off!’

Well, she was going for calm, cool, and collected, and ended on a bit of a shout. But hey ho, she hadn’t ripped his face off like she’d imagined. She span on her heel, coming face to face with Thomas bloody Shelby, who bloody smirked at her, in the tiny way he did.

Sighing in complete frustration, she muttered, ‘You can fuck off as well.’

He smiled, raising his brows as she brushed passed him, then looked up to the lads in the room, nodding to them and addressing them somewhat formally, ‘So, Nancy is home. Expect her company on Friday as is usual. Minimal swearing and men’s talk, please.’

‘Aye, Tommy,’ Scudboat assured him with a chuckle, shaking his head, looking at John who was just about ready to scream. The men all gave a laugh, and Tommy couldn’t help but shrug at John who sneered at him.

‘Fuck you, Tommy,’ he grumbled, picking up his coat and marching for the front door.

‘Think you’ve done enough fucking, John,’ Tommy called back, just before the door slammed, cigarette between his lips. He lit it, giving Scudboat a wink, who only shook his head and looked back to the books.

__________

On the day before Black Star Day, Tommy knocked on Nancy’s door while she was getting dressed. ‘Yeah?’

He opened the door, raising his brows a little to her open dress, but blinking at her. They’d barely spoken really. He’d been ran riot, she’d been straitening up at the Garrison, and spending a whole lot of time with Polly, who refused to mention the Shelby men or anything as such.

Nancy had asked her though, about Tommy going the seamstresses. Polly had barked laughter and asked her if she thought Polly had the time and money to be swanning about buying her new clothes all the time, and just what had Nancy thought she meant when Polly said she was Tommy’s little doll to dress up?

It had made her stomach flip flop, but in her head, she knew where she was, what her plan was. She just needed to ask him.

‘I need you to do a job today,’ he sighed out, holding out a stack of notes to her, flickering his eyes to her fingers, working to button up her dress. ‘Get these to all the lads. I’ve got addresses. Just put them through their doors. They’ll know what they mean. Do not lose the paper with their house numbers on. I want that back.’

Nancy looked at the pages, a single black star on each. ‘These their invites?’

He nodded once, the heaviness of the moment hanging around them. ‘Aye.’

‘You trust me to get them out to everyone?’ she asked, though she was slipping them into her bag already.

‘You might not trust me, Nancy, but I still trust you.’

She looked at him then, the way he stood, stiffer than usual, like he was nervous of her.

‘You’ve been avoiding me.’

‘I’ve been going about my business,’ he said, lips twitching a little in amusement of her forward accusation.

‘I know your business, Tommy. I know I usually see you a lot more than I have been.’

‘Then you’re paying attention at least,’ he said, sniffing and looking to the ground, at her shiny clean shoes. He hummed. ‘Wanted to give you space.’

Nancy nodded slowly. ‘Alright.’

Tommy looked up, eyes falling on her like a hot iron. ‘Alright. Come find me when you’ve finished, yeah?’

She nodded again, because stupidly, she felt like she might cry. The ease had gone from them, or it was still there, but there was a layer over it. Something murky.

Tommy’s mouth lifted ever so slightly at the sides, and he nodded to her chest, ‘You’ve done your buttons wonky.’

She looked down, and realised she had, leaving a big gaping hole showing her slip dress underneath. Sighing, hands raising to fix it, she looked up, but he’d already gone. She was like some mad woman who couldn't dress herself. Stupid men, stupid clothes, stupid little girl.

__________

Nancy could slip around the streets much easier than the Blinders could, which is why she was good for the communications. Anyone would notice a capped lad walking door to door dropping off strange notes. But Nancy was just a woman running errands.

Despite her reigning title of ‘Thomas Shelby’s Whore’, not that many people had actually laid eyes on her. So there wasn’t so many to recognise her, and the ones that did were mostly loyal to Tommy, or at least enough afraid of him to not mind what she was up to.

Besides, anyone trying to grass her in would only find scribbled black stars on scraps of paper, not exactly proof of terrorist correspondence.

Safe to say, she went about her day pretty easily, and balled the list of addresses up in her hand and carried it tightly home, squeezing it as she walked to make sure it was safe. Tommy trusted her far more than she’d ever guessed, and this seemed like a purposeful way of showing her that.

The shop was fairly busy, and she greeted people on her way through, smiling and dipping around bodies. Arthur’s voice called to her, and she searched for him, beelining for him like she had her first day there.

‘Hi, Arthur. I need Tommy.’

‘Pub,’ he said, kissing her temple. ‘I’ll walk you over, my love.’

She breathed a thanks and squeezed the paper while he slipped on his coat. Like a perfect gentleman, he lead her out the front and down the lane towards the Garrison. Inside was fairly busy, and she waved to Georgie who sent her a grin.

Arthur raised a hand in greeting too, and said ‘Hiya’ to Harry on his way past too, but he was all business, guarding Nancy on her way to the snug. ‘Alright, Tom, got a little lady here for you.’

Tommy and John sat either side of the table, looking at Nancy with two entirely different expressions. One of dread, the other of warmth, both though with an air of apprehension.

Nancy held out the crumpled piece of paper to him, and Tommy smiled when he opened it. ‘You got them all?’

‘She’s a good girl, Tom,’ Arthur said from where he stood guard at the door.

Tommy’s smiled stayed. ‘She’s our best girl, Arthur.’

‘Too right,’ came his gruff response, warning anyone against disagreement.

‘I got them all,’ she confirmed, swallowing a little. ‘Tommy, can I talk to you?’

She’d said it so abruptly that he could tell she’d been building up to it. He nodded John and Arthur out the room and they complied, John trying to catch her eye, but she wouldn’t look. She wouldn’t even look up until they’d left.

‘Come on,’ Tommy ordered lightly, moving over on the bench and sliding John’s glass in front of her, topping it up.

She took a sip, desperate for the courage she was trying to force herself to feel to be real.

‘What’s up, Nance? You’re killing me,’ he said with a light chuckle. But he shifted in his seat a little, and his throat felt tight.

‘Danny’s coming up tomorrow isn’t he?’ she asked and he nodded, his face quickly blanking over when she looked at him. She looked back down though, to the glass, spinning it round on the table. ‘I want to go back with him when he goes.’

Tommy audibly swallowed, and his toes began to tap in his shoe, his leg jostling a little at the movement. ‘Right.’

‘I think it’s time I moved on, you know. Found my own place in the world,’ she said with a little laugh, as if it was funny. But she was breathy, nervous.

Tommy’s eyes weren’t their usual dead set, they were flickering around the room and he was fixing his jacket, over and over, hand reaching for his cup, then back to his sleeves, back to the lapels. Fidgeting. Unsettled.

‘I belong with Daniel, he’s my brother,’ Nancy said, swallowing, pulling her hands into her lap so that he wouldn’t see them shaking, but he caught it, of course.

His hawk eyes landed on her hands, then up to her face. He was stiff again, solid. ‘You were afraid of this conversation.’

‘I don’t want to hurt you, Tommy,’ she rushed out, putting her hands on him. She’d done it so many times, but this time it looked like it burnt him. His face scrunched a little, and he raised a hand to stop her.

He closed his eyes for a few harsh beats, then began to nod. ‘Right,’ he said, and it was a croak. ‘I’ll send you away with some cash, add a little more onto Danny’s monthly payments. He’ll still be employed, you know.’

She nodded, smiling. ‘I’ll get work somewhere, you don’t have to send me with anything. You’ve done enough.’

‘Ain’t that so,’ he said with a crinkly sad smile, shaking his head. He tipped his head back, leaning against the back of the bench and looking up to the ceiling.

She admired his face, and the stretch of his throat. ‘I’ll miss you, Tommy.’

‘Don’t say goodbye yet, Nance,’ he said, rolling his head to face her, eyes flitting over her face. ‘Say it later. Not now. I can’t do it now.’

The last words had been in a rasp, and they scratched against her. ‘Alright, Tommy. I won’t.’

His jaw clenched, and he stayed watching her, getting a good look.

Chapter Text

Nancy was staring out of the window from her bed, watching the morning birds flittering across the blue sky. It was a nice day for a funeral or two, she supposed.

She’d heard Polly get up and go downstairs, could hear Tommy shuffling around next door. She heard each footstep leading to her door, then the gentle knock. It was almost as if he was hoping she’d still be asleep and he wouldn’t wake her up.

If she were any better a liar, she’d have closed her eyes there and then and faked it. But instead, she watched the door open, meeting his eyes straight away. He was just in a vest and his trousers, half dressed. ‘Morning, Tommy.’

‘Morning, love,’ he spoke, stepping into the room and closing the door. He sat down on the side of her bed and she sat up, of all things worrying that she looked awful all curled up like she was. He smiled at her, being Tommy again, warm and open, straightening a crease on her sheets. ‘Today is the day.’

‘You nervous?’ she asked, getting more comfortable, pulling the straps of her night gown up.

He watched the motion, shaking his head. ‘I’ve got it all in order – and your brother’s gone this morning to get Freddie.’

Without wanting to know the details, she smiled softly. ‘Ada’ll be happy.’

‘Aye, she will,’ he agreed, tilting his head, looking her over. His voice was delicate, like he was letting his words out with care for her, handing them over, asking her to be gentle with them. ‘You’re pretty in the mornings, Nancy. All gentle and quiet. Soft.’

She stayed as still as she could as he reached out, his knuckles touching her cheek and trailing down her jaw, her throat, finger tips across her collar. He hadn’t touched her since the night of her birthday, she quickly realised. She felt herself heating up, even when he pulled his hand away and smiled.

‘Then there’s that.’

‘What?’ she asked, feeling the need to squirm as a tickling feeling rushed up her spine.

Tommy put a thumb to her cheek and wiped across it, eyes flittering up and down her face. ‘You go all red,’ he murmured, then his finger tips were on the centre of her chest, just below her neck. ‘Even here.’

‘I can’t help it,’ Nancy breathed out, wrapping both hands around his and pulling it off her and into her lap, holding it there. ‘You’re making fun of me, Tommy, and it’s not very kind.’

He seemed amused, at the idea of him being kind at all, but tilted his head the other way as he spoke, ‘I’m not making fun, sweetheart. I’m just looking. Is that unkind?’

She wished she had something smart to say, or something funny, but she didn’t. She flushed, she sucked in her bottom lip, and shook her head.

Tommy’s eyes were heavy, as they usually were in the mornings, and they fell to her mouth, watching that lip reappear like it had done something wrong, popping out, dampened and pink. His own lips twisted as he bit the inside of his cheek, eyes lingering a moment longer, before they lifted and seemed to come back to life. ‘Can you pour a pint?’

‘I’m a quick learner,’ she said with renewed confidence. This felt more like normal ground.

Tommy smirked a little. ‘Come on then.’

He stood then, opening up her wardrobe, beginning to file through her dresses, picking out the pale blue one and holding it out. She leapt from the bed and took it.

‘I’m going to be working in the pub?’

‘The lads are allowed two drinks each, alright?’ he said, putting hands on her shoulders and sliding across her to get to the door. ‘You’ve got twenty minutes.’

She started saying his name, but he was all excitable, so she let him leave and dressed quickly, shoving a hair comb in each side of her hair to keep it out of her face and applying as much make up as she could manage in the short time.

She lingered in the doorway breaking the house from the shop, never having seen so many of them in one room before. Tommy did his speech, speaking about the future, about the races, about money. She couldn’t see him, so she leaned instead, wishing that her last day with the Shelby’s was a more normal one.

Breakfast with Poll, maybe a final walk to the school yard. Tommy nipping into the kitchen for nothing. John and Arthur coming to scrounge food or more drink. Finn in and out, hugging her when no one else was around. Ada visiting, complaining about something, telling one of the boys to piss off of shut up. Tommy showing up for dinner. Tommy walking her to her room, saying goodnight.

It had all gone a bit to shit though. She imagined most things did in this house, but they were so used to it they barely noticed, the next best thing coming along as swift as the last one left.

Maybe Tommy would find another beacon of light. Maybe they’d stay in her room – or his.

She bit her lip, hard, as the lads cheered and started to head out. She could vaguely see Tommy standing up tall to try and spot her, and she didn’t make her way to him. She just waited, seeing if he’d leave without her. But he didn’t. He waited until she was revealed to him and grinned, beckoning her over and wrapping his arm around behind her to put his hand in the small of her back.

He kissed her temple just before they got out onto the street, saying, ‘Come on, my girl. One last trip to the pub.’

She was glad he’d acknowledged it, but tortured too. Even worse when he joined her behind the bar, teaching her things, talking right against her ear, breathing his scent all over her.

He was happy, happier than she’d ever seen him, and it was hard not to laugh and giggle with him, especially with his hands on her. He’d grip her waist on his way past, put a hand on her if he stood beside her, press his front against her back to reach above her, passing her bottles down from the higher shelves with a half smile.

It was easy to imagine Tommy Shelby, the barman. Serving girls on the weekend, a notorious flirt. Having crack with the old fellas. Always grinning, always happy. She almost wished it for him.

His hand fell to the back of her neck, beneath her hair, as he raised a cup in the air, signalling for silence. ‘To Black Star Day!’

The men all cheered, and downed their drinks. Tommy handed her his, and watched her drink from it with glee before turning her, bending down to her eye level. He was all wild and wide eyed, giddy with all the noise.

‘You’re the best thing that could ever happen to a man like me, Nancy Owen. If today all pans out, I’m going to make sure I make it all up to you, all the shit. It will all be finished, yeah? I don’t care if I have to buy a boat and sail to fucking Brazil to see you, I’ll make it. I’ve got to have you, Nancy. No matter where you are in the world, I’ve got to know you’re still my Nancy.’

She was frightened, because his words barely made sense. But she was flushed, all the same. ‘Part of me will always be yours, Tommy. No matter what, alright? Today is going to be fine. It’s going to be fine.’

He smiled, leaning in and pressing his lips to her cheek, then her forehead, holding the sides of her face, his nose touching hers as he tilted his head down. His breath fanned against her mouth as he spoke heavily, saying, ‘I love you, Nancy. Yeah?’

‘Yeah, Tommy,’ she murmured back, barely able to breathe at all. ‘I love you too.’

He nodded, his eyes closed, just the very edge of his lip brushing against hers, but he put their foreheads together for two beats, then kissed her other cheek, rising as the doors of the pub opened.

‘Kimber and his men are on the way, Tom – we’ve been ratted out!’

Murmurs and mutterings flooded the pub, but Tommy barely hesitated. ‘Right lads, change of plans. Get your fucking guns and get out to the lane!’

He turned to Nancy, bending to her again.

‘You stay here. Stay away from the windows, right? Promise me?’

‘I promise, Tommy,’ she said shakily, nodding.

He looked her over with a frown. ‘Wasn’t meant to get this close to you,’ he said, looking up as the lads were still filtering out to the street. ‘Wish me luck, okay?’

Nancy lurched forward, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing his jaw. ‘Be safe, Tommy,’ she gasped out. ‘Come back and I’ll make you a drink.’

His hands squeezed her tightly, almost bruising, and he set her down, gripping the back of her neck and pulling her in to kiss her forehead so hard it hurt.

‘Good luck, Tommy.’

‘Don’t come out from behind that bar,’ he ordered as he moved around it, taking a final long look at her, eyes threatening her to do anything stupid.

Then he was gone, and the pub was empty, all except Polly Grey who was grinning like a minx.

‘Well, that was quite the farewell.’

Nancy gripped a bottle of gin and two glasses, waggling them at Polly before she sank down behind the bar and onto the floor, finding a dry patch to sit on.

Polly’s heels clacked to her, and she tossed a cushion at her, then dropped her own next to her, and the two set up camp. Nancy poured the drinks while Pol lit the fags and grabbed the ash tray off the bar. ‘I thought he was going to kiss you.’

‘He didn’t though,’ Nancy said with a smile, one that said she wouldn’t be dragged into school girl talk, not today.

They were quite a while, then Polly said, ‘It was that Irish bitch that sold him out.’

‘Yeah,’ Nancy breathed. She’d been glad when Grace disappeared after the incident with the guns. She’d barely thought of her since, to be honest. There had been so much else happening. ‘He shouldn’t have trusted her.’

‘He’s a man, and she was a tall thin blonde chasing after him,’ Polly grumbled, tapping her ash off and slurping at her drink. ‘You know, this is almost peaceful if you forget about the carnage outside.’

‘I’d rather forget about it, actually,’ Nancy admitted with a nervous chuckle. Then, quieter, she asked, ‘Did Tommy love her, that Grace?’

‘Do you think me and Tommy stay up late discussing his love interests?’ Polly quipped, then gave a look. ‘He was too busy tucking you up in bed to be sat gabbing in the kitchen with me, Nancy – not that he would anyways.’

Rolling her eyes, Nancy sighed. ‘I’m going wherever Dan goes after today, Pol.’

‘I know, love,’ she replied gently. ‘He told me that much, at least.’

Nancy looked to Polly’s sad smile and felt a horrible twist in her heart. ‘He might want to stay here, you know. If the business with the Italian’s is forgotten – or they are all belly up shot in the street in the next half hour.’

There was a shot fired, and both women flinched, Polly gripping Nancy’s arm and wrapping it around her own. They were sat, locked tightly together, listening. But then two more shots came, soon after the first. They listened another moment, then glanced at each other.

‘Is it over, Pol? Just like that?’

‘We can only hope, Nancy. They’re fighting for men, not for a cause. They’ll all stop if they’ve any sense, should Kimber or Tommy be downed.’

So they sat, listening, hearing cheers, hoping they were right in thinking it was the Peaky boys. Nancy downed her drink as the sounds grew closer to the pub, and Polly gripped her arm tightly.

‘If it’s Kimber and the Italians, we’ve got to get out this pub the fastest we can, the quietest we can, right?’

Nancy took a trembling breath, nodding once. ‘Right.’

Their worry was for nothing though, because Arthur burst through the doors, yelling and shouting in his rasping voice, calling of their victory.

Nancy leapt up, giving Polly a hand and watching as the boys filed in, Tommy at the front, a hand over his shoulder. Jeremiah was leading him to a chair, but Tommy called out to the room, ‘Everyone get a fucking drink!’

‘Sit down you fool,’ Jeremiah ordered, pushing Tommy into a chair at the end of the bar, at the back of the room, and Nancy and Polly moved for him.

His eyes fell on Nancy, heavy, but he was smiling, because she was, and he couldn’t help it.

Polly grimaced as his shirt was pulled off and the bullet hole was shown. Tommy kept his eyes on Nancy though, even as he ordered one of the boys to fetch him a clean shirt from home.

‘What happened?’ Polly asked, topping up the two glasses and forcing one into Nancy’s hand.

‘Get me a whiskey, Pol,’ he said faintly, glancing down at Jeremiah dug in his shoulder for the bullet. ‘Kimber’s dead, his men left with his body. It’s over. We now run the third largest legal race track in Britain.’

Arthur cheered somewhere near them, but Nancy couldn’t look away.

‘Does it hurt?’ she asked, kneeling at the side Jeremiah wasn’t working on, a hand on Tommy’s thigh and the other on the back of his chair.

The pub quietened a little, and Tommy’s eyes flickered behind her to the rest of the room, following someone for a moment before moving back to her. ‘I’ve got to tell you something, Nancy.’

All of a sudden, she realised she’d been missing something. Daniel. ‘Where’s Dan?’

Tommy looked physically pained, but he swallowed it down, keeping his eyes on her. He was no coward. ‘He took a bullet for me, Nancy. He’s dead. They’re laying him out in the snug now, so we can toast him, and say our final farewells. You give me two minutes to get this bullet out of me, and I’ll come with you to see him.’

Nancy was hardly listening. Her hand had slipped off his thigh, and the back of his chair, and she’d sat onto her feet, hands limp in her lap, gazing at the bullet wound in him, the way the flesh was turned in, dark red, blood trailing from it.

Jeremiah pulled the bullet out and she barely flinched.

Polly stood beside them, her hand over her mouth, eyes welled over, looking to the ceiling. Looking to heaven. ‘God bless him, he’s in a better place.’

Nancy’s eyes slipped closed. ‘He’s not, Pol. He’s in the snug. I’m going to see him.’

‘Wait, Nancy,’ Tommy called, gripping her wrist, but she tugged away from him, pushing through the men. Tommy moved away from Jeremiah, pushing his shirt against the wound to stop the bleeding. ‘Nancy – wait.’

He caught up to her, just in the door way, where she’d stopped, watching lads bowing their heads to a body on the table, their caps over their hearts.

Polly murmured to the others waiting to say their goodbyes, ‘Let Nancy see him alone, lads.’

She followed them in, closing the door, leaning against it, watching on as Tommy kept his arm around Nancy’s shoulders as she began to shake. She wanted to speak, to reach out to her, to comfort her. But she pulled away even from Tommy, laying her head on Danny’s chest, sobbing loud and open.

‘Sit down, Tommy,’ Polly murmured, but he shook his head, lifting the shirt and glancing at the bleeding, then back to Nancy.

He didn’t try to speak to her, or touch her, and neither did Polly.

Nancy remembered again, the way she always remembered her and Dan. She was young, young enough to hold hands with in the street, and he was older. They walked along together in her mind, him with his new cap on, grinning down at her. They hadn’t been like that for a long time, but they always would be in her mind. There was no room for new memories together now.

‘I’m so sorry, Daniel – I’m so sorry.’

Polly wiped her tears, glancing to Tommy, and seeing his own eyes glazed. A single tear trailed down his cheek, and he caught, meeting Polly’s eye ever so briefly.

She touched his back, rubbing it, as if he were a little boy again. ‘You’re alright, Tommy.’

Nancy had quietened, laying on him still, her chest crossed across his, not caring she was soaking up his blood through her pretty pale blue dress.

Tommy blew out a breath and sat down, murmuring, ‘Get Miah to come sew me up, Pol. I’m bleeding out here.’

Polly slipped out the door, and could be heard lightly ordering, ‘No one in that room till Tommy says so.’

Nancy lifted her head and kissed her brother, whimpering as she did.

‘Come here, Nancy,’ Tommy offered lightly, haunted by the look on her face when she turned and rushed to him. Despite the way it strained on his sore shoulder, he curled her legs across his own, and held her against his chest with his good arm as she cried against him. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’

Nancy only sniffled, stilling a little when the door opened again.

‘It’s just Jeremiah here to sew up my arm,’ Tommy whispered, nodding to him to carry on. He was stroking her hair, soothing her softly. ‘He’ll not say a word, it’ll be like he’s not here. You do what you need to do, Nancy.’

‘Do you think he’ll go to heaven?’ she suddenly burst out, looking to Jeremiah desperately, who gave her a gentle look.

‘Danny Owen saved the life of this man twice – God may not agree with it, but he has to see the honour in it,’ he said with a knowing smile as he worked.

She closed her eyes. She’d barely been to church in weeks, months even. She only wanted peace for her brother, peace finally from whatever haunted him, the things that she couldn’t imagine. She was afraid he’d be stuck the way he was forever, but it wasn’t true.

He’d have peace. He’d be with their mother, their father. Maybe even the baby Rosie didn’t want because he was too sick. He’d be a father fit for purpose now. Heavenly and clean, washed of all his troubles.

He’d be watching her now too, from wherever he was. That gave a small comfort, that he’d be closer than he was before. In a way.

But oh she’d never hold him again. His big arms would never wrap around her. She’d never feel small or young or innocent. Not now.

‘Did he die straight away?’ she asked softly, and felt Tommy kiss the top of her head.

‘Yeah, love. No pain in it.’

She nodded. At least his last thoughts weren’t of her, of guilt and worry. He’d died protecting someone he loved, someone who meant everything to him. He’d died a brave man, braver than most.

But he’d still died. And at that moment, it felt a bit like part of her had too. That small part. The little girl holding hands with her big brother in the street. The bigger girl who could feel little again, and not at all tarnished by the world when he held her tightly in his arms.

She just wanted it one more time. To soak it up a final time, all the warmth in him.

When they buried him again, in his grave, she didn’t want to leave him. It felt like he was all alone, out in the cold. Like she was abandoning him.

Polly said softly, ‘He’s not there anymore, love.’

‘It feels like he is,’ Nancy whimpered, lifting her eyes from the grave for the first time. They flickered to where Tommy and Arthur stood in the distance, near the car. Just shadows to her. ‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now, Polly.’

She was crying herself, wiping her eyes. ‘You’ll come home and have a bath, and I’ll fix you a tea, or a gin, whichever the mood requires.’

Nancy chuckled, remembering it wasn’t the first time Polly had said those words to her, though her eyes were still pouring, and her chin dimpled. Polly wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and they walked stuck together back to the car.

Much like Polly had said those words before on Nancy’s first night with them, the Shelby's sat downstairs together, listening to her sob while Polly helped her get ready for bed.

Polly crept down the stairs after a long while of silence, looking to Tommy with meaning. Her eyes flittered to Arthur, then John, who’d arrived from the pub, looking sheepish and troubled, Ada in the corner with Karl asleep on her chest, then back to Tommy. ‘Alone’ll do her no good tonight, Tom.’

Tommy nodded, finishing his drink and taking the stairs without a look back at his brothers, or Ada, who he knew looked to Polly sharply in question.

He could hear the rain getting louder as he got to the landing, and could hear her heavy breaths above it all.

But instead of sitting beneath the window, she was in her bed, gazing at the wall. She watched him slip off his shirt, and his shoes and trousers. Then he slipped into the bed behind her, half expecting her to keep ignoring him, but she flipped, burying her face into his chest, feeling his arms wrap around her.

Tommy kissed the top of her head, but said nothing else, barely moving. She didn’t cry anymore, but she held onto him, feeling small. Too small.

The rain beat against the window, and she wasn't afraid of it.

The bad memories were overshadowed by the good. The few that she had, she held onto.

Chapter Text

Nancy slept and didn’t sleep in bed for most of the first day, then some time in the night decided to give herself one more day. Tommy haunted her doorway, and Polly brought her tea. She was reserved, thankful, polite. That second night, she heard the familiar creak on the corridor and glanced in the direction of the door.

Tommy was just home. He gazed at her, jaw tight.

‘You okay?’ she croaked out in a whisper, receiving a short nod.

‘You?’

‘Yeah, I’m okay. I’m going to get up tomorrow,’ Nancy whispered, swallowing harshly, her throat so dry it hurt.

Tommy looked at her still, then nodded again, clearing his throat and finally glancing away. ‘Alright, Nancy. That’s alright.’

She gave him a small smile, which made his chest hurt, because it wasn’t her, and she wasn’t looking at him the same, and he knew he’d done too much.

But she got up in the morning, sneaking down the stairs before anyone else, and made a bath. The silence was almost crippling, but she did it. In all honesty, as cruel and as wicked as it was, she’d lived so many days without Dan already.

It still felt like he was just up the street, or down in London. Really, she could pretend it never happened. She wouldn’t be able to forget though, not after seeing him lying there.

She squeezed her eyes closed as tightly as she could while she buttoned her dress to get rid of the image of him, and glanced outside. The world as still turning, Birmingham was still full of smog.

She wondered ever so briefly if Rosie knew, but then realised that Rosie had never known that he wasn’t really dead in the first place. How mad it all seemed.

Polly was up and drinking tea, and smiled softly at her from the kitchen table. ‘Good morning, our Nancy,’ she said in a husky voice. ‘Nice dress today.’

She looked down at the red and smiled – well, not really, but because her body remembered that was what she was supposed to do when someone was pretending everything was normal when it most definitely wasn’t.

Polly looked over her and her smiled changed to one of small acceptance. As Nancy moved to make a cup of tea, she said softly, ‘Do you have any plans today?’

‘I’m going to go see Kenny I think. I want to get out. Maybe go for a walk – I’ve stopped going for walks.’

They fell into comfortable silence, and Nancy took her seat, and even ate a slice of toast. Then she smoked. Three cigarettes in a row. It made her feel sick but better all at once. Every moment felt like a lifetime, every sound at full volume but muffled to her, like she was too much in the room but not enough.

Steps thundered down the stairs, and both girls looked up to Tommy with concern. He was fully dressed, besides his buttons only done half way up, and he was carrying his jacket instead of wearing it. He paused in the doorway, assessing the room before stepping in. Clearing his throat, he mumbled, ‘Morning, girls.’

‘Morning,’ Nancy mouthed, but the word caught in her throat when his hand brushed her shoulder on the way past. She licked her lips. ‘I’m going to head out to see Ken.’

‘Want company?’ Tommy offered without turning to face her, his shoulders all stiff and square.

Nancy glanced to Polly, who gave her a pitying look and said, ‘You’ll be alright wont you, Nance? Ken will want you all to himself, bless him.’

Tommy breathed out a sigh through his nose, but nodded. He turned around to say goodbye, but Nancy was slipping out the back door. Hands over his face, he clenched his teeth and hummed into a groan.

‘I had a dream, Tommy.’

‘Don’t.’

Polly rose a brow, flicking out her paper and taking a drag from her cigarette. ‘She’ll be okay,’ she said lightly, as if telling him the headlines.

Tommy rubbed his eyes and straightened himself up, taking a clearing breath and saying nothing more.

__________

Nancy felt lighter as she strolled by the river, actually remembering things from recent years. But nothing to do with Dan, or Thomas Shelby. Just her.

She’d dreamt about saving up and moving somewhere, meeting someone. Marrying, like she thought you should. A baby, baby two or three. Living a little life, doing her dishes and her cooking. She didn’t mind if she was doing it in a big house or a small one, as long as it was somewhere she could be happy. And she always was happy back then, in her visions of the future.

Then all this had happened, and there had still been the dream – the life that might happen after the Shelby’s. She’d imagined being in bars and pubs in London, finding a job in a shop or an office.

But Dan was gone, so there was no reason to go to London. There was no ‘after the Shelby’s’. She was with them now, she had no where else to go to after them. There was no one, no one at all. Nothing from before was going to be next.

She knew Tommy was further along the way, she’d half spotted him as she wandered. He was just stood there, watching her, waiting for her.

‘How long have you been here?’ she asked when she got near enough. There was still a few paces between them, and she kept walking until they were two feet apart, tilting her head and squinting at him.

He looked out to the water, wringing his hands for a split second, then sighing. ‘What you doing, ey?’

‘Walking, Tommy.’ Nancy was trying to be light, but she could see him stressing. Even though he stood still he seemed to be moving.

‘What are you doing, Nancy?’ he begged, shaking his head.

Nancy glanced down, then back up. ‘I’m going to move into the flat above the barbers, Tommy.’

She watched his face crease, but he quickly lowered it, shaking his head at himself and squeezing his eyes shut.

‘Alright.’

‘I’d like to keep working for you, if you’d want me to? And I’ll come round for tea with Polly, dinner with the others,’ she said, smiling again, hoping he’d look up and see it, but he was only nodding at the ground. She squeezed and released her hands a few times, then sighed. ‘I can’t stay in that house, Tommy. I can’t stay with you.’

‘Because I killed your brother,’ he said, swallowing and looking up at her with a jaw so tight it ached, and his eyes blown wide.

‘Because for all the love, all the smiles, Tommy, you’ve done some awful things to me,’ she said, and was proud that she’d gotten it out, even if her voice did hitch a little in the middle and her face was starting to burn. ‘I let you do it though, I even did some of the hurting myself. But I got too swept up in it – in the whirlwind. All of us in that house – me and you – us – in that house.’

His eyes lifted to the sky, but he was shaking his head. ‘I don’t want you to go, Nancy.’

‘You can’t keep me there, Tommy. Not after everything – not now there is no one to do it for.’

Tommy’s eyes met hers, and there was a little flame flickering in them. ‘No one to do it for? What about you, Nancy? What about me, ey?’

Her eyes had filled, but her fury had been awoken. ‘You don’t get a fucking say, Tommy – you’ve gotten a say over everything that has happened to me since that first time in the barbers – because you got your hair cut on the wrong damned day.’

Tommy flinched ever so slightly, gazing at her as her little shoulders shook and her chin trembled.

‘And everything is shit – its shitter than it’s ever been. You made me fuck John – you made me even though you knew. It was some sick game to you – and I know you’ll have your reasons, you always do, but you let me suffer for them. For you. Like I suffered with the Lee’s, and in the whore house, with that fucking inspector following me around Birmingham! I did it all for you and I cannot stay in that house – I can’t – because I’d do it all again. I know I would. I’d do anything and I don’t want to be like that. Not for anyone. Not even you.’

‘Nancy,’ he said, reaching for her, but she pulled back and pain flashed in his eyes. He got firmer, ‘Nancy, I know you’re upset – I know I’m a shit. I know things haven’t been perfect but I’ve done it all because-’

‘Don’t you dare say you love me, because the way you love isn’t the way I want to be loved. I don’t want it at all if that’s the only way you can give it,’ she bit quickly, desperately, as if he’d handed her a pulled grenade.

‘You can’t do it alone,’ Tommy said, shaking his head. ‘I need you with me, Nancy. You’re my girl, aren’t you?’

She bubbled, a flutter of whimpers escaping her. ‘No, Tommy. Not anymore. I need things to be different.’

‘Then stay and I’ll make them different.’

He’d stepped closer, so she closed her eyes. ‘You can’t keep someone who doesn’t want to be kept, Tommy.’

‘You want to be, Nancy,’ he said, much closer, standing over her, watching her face crease in pain. ‘You’re staying.’

There had been the lightest shake in his voice, but his expression was firm when she looked at him. Her own expression darkened, emotions reeling as she looked into his eyes. She thought for a flicker of a second that she might slap him, but Nancy wasn’t a hitter, not after everything.

Her face morphed in front of him, into a thousand different things, until a crying sneer stuck to her, but then the sneer dropped, and she was just a girl again.

‘Your suffering made you cruel, Tommy. Mine made me kind, that’s why I still can’t hate you.’

It worse than a slap, for Thomas Shelby to be seen for what he was. He flinched away from her, stalking a few paces away and then turning to return, but finding her already walking away. He sped up for a few paces, then stopped.

Nancy walked back to Watery Lane and Tommy stayed on the river bank.

__________

Tommy came home as they were setting the table. His face was drawn, his expression haunted.

Polly frowned at him in confusion when he looked at her from the door way, but then he caught the flicker of movement, and saw Nancy plating up the dinner. Polly watched as he practically collapsed onto the door frame, closing his eyes a moment, breathing in relief.

‘Shut that door,’ Arthur nagged as he waltzed through. ‘Nearly ready, Nance? Smells bloody beautiful.’

She giggled, like she always had, turning and setting a plate down where Arthur was about to sit, hanging his jacket over the back of the chair.

Tommy moved into the house, closing the door and taking off his hat, unable to look away from her, the relief like someone had dumped ice cold water over him. His fingers were tingling.

He swallowed and moved to take a seat, Polly delivering his plate with a gentle squeeze to the shoulder.

‘Bloody good show, girls,’ Arthur muttered, telling a few tidbits from his day, laughing and chatting away.

Everyone nodded along, and laughed, and smiled. But no one was really listening.

Nancy glanced up and found Tommy gazing at her, a soft smile on his face, open and light.

What once would have given her a fluttering in her chest made her feel vulnerable. She didn’t know what was real with him anymore. She’d thought she knew, that she could read him better than anyone, but that’s what the house did. Everything was everything times a hundred. If you were mad you were murderous, if you were laughing you were on the floor with belly ache, and if you liked someone, respected them, admired them, it felt like love. Like whole hearted love.

She helped Polly clean up, then read for a while by the fire, curled up in the armchair while the boys went out and Polly took a long soak in the bath. Then she went upstairs and readied herself.

Tommy came home, and came to the door. ‘Can I come in?’

‘You’ve never asked before,’ she whispered with a light smirk that slipped into a smile as he moved into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Nancy sat up, tucking her hair behind her ears.

Tommy watched her, then looked at his hands, gently smiling. ‘I thought you’d marched back here, packed a bag and would be on the next train out of Birmingham.’

She laughed a little, shaking her head. ‘You’re still my boss, I’d have to give you a little notice.’

He rolled his eyes, breathing out a chuckle. ‘I was happy to see you home, is all.’

‘Good, I want you to be happy, Tommy.’

Licking his lips, he nodded. ‘I know I’m awful, Nancy. I know it’s been my fault, a lot of the things that have happened to you. I’m sorry about John, I’m sorry about Danny. It all. Alright?’

‘I know you are,’ she said, because – what else was there to say? It was all done then. ‘I just – I wouldn’t have gone with him, you know – if, well.’

Tommy gazed intently, waiting for her to finish, urging her to answer.

‘If I hadn’t have felt like you were pushing me to do it. I thought – I thought you wanted me to.’

His brows creased. ‘I wanted you to if you wanted to.’

‘But you knew, Tommy,’ she stressed, and he set a hand on her knee through the blanket and it made her freeze.

‘I did know, yes. But if you hadn’t have gone with him then, I’d have never known if it was the marriage keeping you away or if you really didn’t want to.’

Nancy licked her lips, closed her eyes, and sighed. ‘Did you ever think that wasn’t anything to do with you?’ she whispered, not unkindly, but just asking.

His eyes flittered over her face, her hair, her bare shoulders. ‘It’s all to do with me, Nance. I told you that you were mine.’

‘You can’t just say things and make them real, Tommy. If you could I’d make a thousand wishes,’ she said tiredly, laying back, looking to the wall.

‘Name something – I’ll make it so.’

Nancy was quiet for a while, then murmured, ‘I have my big house – with so many rooms I don’t know what to do with. I have a dog. I can drive a car. I am going to London, to drink in a fancy bar.’

‘Is that all, sweetheart?’ he whispered, stroking the hair away from her face, watching her face as she frowned, her eyes closed and lips turned down at the sides. ‘I can do that for you.’

Nancy opened her eyes, turning and looking at him with an almost bored look. ‘I’m tired, Tommy.’

He smiled a little, looking at her lips, then her eyes, shining in the moonlight. He leaned forward and put his mouth on hers, lingering there for only the same amount of time he’d kiss her forehead of her cheek, but feeling his soft lips against hers was entirely different.

He sat straight, touching he cheek a little, then rising. ‘Goodnight, love.’

‘Night, Tom,’ she whispered back.

Tommy noticed everything, he always did. The whimper in her voice, the blush on her cheeks, the way she’d stiffened. But he didn’t noticed how flat Polly had been during dinner.

Or the packed bags beneath Nancy’s bed.

Chapter Text

‘Right, here we are,’ Kenny grunted as he opened the door. He had a bad knee, and climbing up the steep stairs to the entrance to the flat had took it out of him.

Nancy peered into the room. There was a few kitchen counters, a small table, then space for a sitting room. There was only one sofa that looked like it might crumple into nothing if she dared to sit on it.

‘Had a rat problem – gone now, but might need to clean up a bit,’ he said with a bit of embarrassment. ‘You know how it is.’

‘Don’t worry, Ken, it’s perfect,’ Nancy said with a smile. She was thinking of Ada, alone in her flat, how stylish and grown up she seemed. She knew Ada probably didn’t feel like that, not really. But it was fun to imagine herself here, making it her own. She walked through and glanced in the bathroom. She’d make do with it, after a good scrub and a fresh lick of paint around the place. She turned and looked at him over her shoulder. ‘More than I’ve ever had to myself!’

He chuckled, leaning back on the kitchen counter and watched her look into the bedroom. ‘Bed frame should be alright, you’ll need a new mattress though. I’ll get you that – moving in present.’

‘You don’t have to do that, Kenny,’ she said, coming back into the room and looking down at the street, seeing a few capped heads walking past and getting a strange squirming feeling in her stomach. But she smiled, looking to him. ‘I’m so excited.’

She’d expected him to smile, but Kenny had a grim look on his face, all fatherly and serious. ‘You’ve had a time of it, Nance,’ he said, looking to the ground and rubbing the stubble on his chin. He was awkward, for the first time ever. ‘Breaks my heart to think of it.’

He suddenly stood straight, righting himself, clapping his hands together.

‘Right. You ever need anything, you let me know. I’m supposing you know someone who can help you get rid of that old thing?’ he asked, nodding to the sofa then gesturing around, ‘Needs a good scrub and it’ll be right.’

‘It’s going to be wonderful – and if you ever need anything, I’m only upstairs,’ she said with a chuckle, and he smiled in return.

Kenny left her to it, and after making a mental list of the things she’d need, she took herself out to the shops.

She walked around the city like she used to, trying to blend in, to go unnoticed. She glanced around her a few times, meeting eyes with strangers and giving them light smiles. She imagined Tommy grabbing her arm and dragging her back to Watery Lane, or, perhaps worse, running into John and Esme. But neither happened.

She bought all of her cleaning supplies and two tins of paint, and the shop keepers, knowing who she was, gave her a discount that she took advantage of. The man in the paint shop even gave one of the kids playing outside some money to carry them back for her, and he shared it with his friend and they walked side by side with her up the road, chatting away, asking her a thousand questions.

It was a strange sense of independence, and she relished in it.

The boys had set the paints down at the bottom of the stairs inside the shop and took themselves away with another few coins from Kenny.

She swept, and got the windows clean, and had started scrubbing the kitchen counters and the oven when she remembered the paint abandoned in the shop. She wiped her filthy soapy hands on her apron and left her door open as she went to fetch them up.

‘Sorry Kenny!’ she called, but he waved her off, watching her pick up a tin and rush up the stairs with it.

She heard the bell tingle just before she got to the bottom of the stairs for the second tin and glanced up. The sun that had been shining through the glass of the door and the windows was blocked out by the four Peaky boys who’d arrived and were speaking to Ken.

Nancy glowered at the way Ken looked so all and frail with them towering over him and marched into the shop, saying firmly, ‘Good morning, gentlemen.’

They looked up, the lad closest to her smiling and taking off his cap. ‘Morning, Miss Owen.’

‘Can we help you?’ she asked, heart thundering in her chest but face firm.

‘Well, Arthur sent us round, saying we were to help you,’ he said then smirked a little. ‘He said you’d be needing furniture moved and a hand painting.’

She looked to Kenny, who shrugged a little, but pulled a face that said, ‘Well, here’s your strong lads.’

‘May I?’ the man said, gesturing to the paint, about to take it.

Nancy pulled it back. ‘No. You may take the sofa away. That’s all. I’ll paint myself.’

He nodded the boys forward, and they went on their way, slinking passed Nancy with polite smiles and nods of greeting. The man turned to Kenny. ‘We’ve a delivery coming-’

‘Delivery of what?’ Nancy asked, finally putting the paint down and crossing her arms.

‘Not sure on the details, Miss Owen, apologies.’

She had half a mind to march down to Watery Lane herself and tell Thomas fucking Shelby to mind his own business, but she felt guilty. She hadn’t even said goodbye. She’d told Pol, of course. Then she’d had breakfast with them like everything was normal, then left. And Tommy, for all the awful things she could think about him, hadn’t come and demanded she return.

He worked quickly though. A mattress was delivered that afternoon, and a new bedding set. But he stayed away, at least until dark.

She was half way through the first coat in the living room when she looked down out of the window and saw him approaching the shop. She was far too exhausted for an argument, truly. But she couldn’t read his expression in the darkness, and realised he’d probably already seen her too, considering there were no curtains as the old ones were so dusty and moth eaten that she’d put them straight into the bin.

She tiptoed down the stairs and into the darkness of the shop, eyes on the door as if he might kick it in at any moment with impatience. But he didn’t. And when she opened it, he barely flickered his gaze over her.

Much like the first time he’d come to her home, her old home, she stepped aside and let him straight in without asking questions. He walked passed her and straight upstairs whilst she relocked the shop door.

Nancy hesitated for a moment at the bottom of the steps then followed him up, finding him stood in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets, looking around.

Nancy let out a light chuckle. ‘Not exactly my big house in the country, but it’ll do for now.’

Tommy frowned at the paint tin, then looked at her, the paint on her clothes and covering her hands. ‘The lads could have done the whole place in an afternoon.’

‘I wanted to do it on my own, Tommy,’ Nancy said gratefully, but firm in her words. ‘I appreciate the mattress, I really do. Thank you.’

He nodded, but his face was blank.

Nancy rubbed her lips together, breathing a laugh. ‘I’d offer you a cuppa but I haven’t got a kettle yet. I’ve been using the one downstairs.’

He smiled a little, then started taking off his coat, his gloves, his jacket, his cap. He put them all folded in half on the small table and sniffed as he rolled up his sleeves. Lighting a cigarette, he kept it in between his lips as he bent and picked up a brush.

‘Tommy, you don’t-’

‘We’re friends, aren’t we?’ he asked, back to her, painting where she hadn’t been able to reach. He grunted a little as he stretched, then plucked the fag from between his lips as he turned, raising a brow at her, mouth pulled into a straight line. ‘Close as family?’

‘You’re my boss too. Bosses don’t come round and help their secretaries paint.’

His lips pulled up gently at the sides and he turned back, carrying on with his smoking and his painting. It was somewhat curious to see Tommy performing manual labour. It hadn’t occurred to her before that she’d never seen him do it. She knew he was strong, but he wasn’t like a factory worker or a farm hand.

His broad shoulders worked and his torso twisted, showing the expanse of his ribcage, the slenderness of his hips. He started talking and it took her a while to hear him. ‘I can take you shopping tomorrow for curtains and a sofa, some towels and things.’

‘You don’t want to walk about the shops, Tommy,’ she said with a breath of laughter, picking up the thinner brush and moving to go along the line of the skirting boards. She could tell he was smiling without even looking. ‘Although I hear you enjoy visits to the seamstress.’

He cleared his throat, a hum of laughter escaping him. ‘I’ve a story you’ll like.’

‘Go on then,’ she murmured as she concentrated on her work.

‘John came round earlier and called me a few colourful names,’ he told her with a smirk. ‘Still very protective of you, Princess.’

‘I don’t like that,’ she sighed.

‘Why not?’

‘Well, I think you’ve had enough telling off from me without him calling you too,’ Nancy spoke, spinning a little on the floor to look at him. ‘And I don’t want him to be protective of me, he should be looking after his wife.’

Tommy nodded in agreement, and was about to speak when she added:

‘I don’t like you calling me princess, either.’

He chuckled, shocking himself that he had. ‘What would you like to be called then?’

‘Nancy does just fine,’ she replied with a pointed look before turning back to her work.

He was smiling again and murmured in his low rumble, ‘Alright, my love. Nancy it is.’

Nancy’s lips twisted in a smile that she attempted to squash. They worked in content silence for a while, but she could feel Tommy’s vibe shifting even without being able to see him.

‘How are you feeling about Danny?’ he asked heavily, his chest tight as he did.

‘Okay right now, probably not so well later. It comes in waves. You?’

‘Aye, comes in waves.’

Nancy didn’t want to talk about him, not right then, so she said nothing. They worked in silence, on their separate sides of the room, working towards one another and eventually meeting near the window, Tommy standing and Nancy on the floor.

She looked up at him with a grin.

Tommy smirked, rolling his eyes. ‘You need a bath.’

‘So do you,’ she said, wiping a drop of paint on his black trousers. ‘You didn’t come dressed for painting.’

He offered her a hand up, which she took, and when she was up he nodded to the bathroom. ‘You take a bath and I’ll finish off. I’ll come round tomorrow and help with the bedroom if you don’t want the lads to.’

‘It’s alright, honestly,’ she sighed, but went to the bathroom anyways and set the bath off. ‘I’m so tired.’

‘Well you had a perfectly good room already,’ he said, but when she looked at him he was smiling softly, glancing away from her like he didn’t want his eyes to linger too long.

She rolled her eyes and took a night dress and her towel from her bags, as well as her bath set, and shut the door behind her, scrubbing all the paint from under her nails and what had gotten stuck in her hair.

There was a part of her that wished he’d stayed away, but then the biggest part of her that was pleased. He’d understood her, he’d respected her wishes, he’d listened. And he’d came anyways, despite her leaving. Tommy still wanted her, in his own strange way. He was still going to look after her, share that part of himself with her that he didn’t share with anyone else – she hoped, anyways.

Tommy was scrubbing his hands at the kitchen sink when she came out, hair wet but combed, only in her short silk nightie. It felt more scandalous to her then, being half dressed around him. Madness, really, considering he’d seen her half dressed almost every day for months. But it was different now. They didn’t live together. It wasn’t normal.

It hadn’t been normal anyways really. They both knew their relationship was anything but. Anyone else would have been appalled.

‘Thanks for your help,’ she said softly, looking at the drying paint. ‘Maybe one more coat and it’ll be done.’

Tommy’s eyes flickered to her and away as he moved to put his coat back on. ‘I’ll let you get some sleep. You’ll be working from the house on Friday?’

‘Can’t leave Scudboat without his tea service, can I?’ she joked, opening the door and letting him go out past her and down the stairs. The street lights lit the shop, just enough to make out each others faces as they stood in front of the closed door, a shiver going up Nancy’s spine at the cold.

He watched her intently as she bent to fit the key in the lock, eyes brushing over her curving shoulders, her tight waist, and the section of her thigh revealed as she bent further to find the keyhole. Tommy’s eyes flickered back to her face as the lock clicked and she opened the door, frowning down at her bare feet.

She mentally added a house coat and slippers to the list.

‘How have you paid for this, Nancy?’ he asked low, taking hold of the handle and closing the door over again, but not enough that it would click shut.

She blinked up at him. ‘I gave Ken all my savings, enough for a year of rent with friendly discount. I’m doing two afternoon’s in here a week to pay for my utilities.’

‘So anything you earn is yours,’ he said and she nodded with him. ‘I wish you’d asked.’

‘You’ve more money than me, but not enough to pay for every lost young girl you find,’ Nancy joked, smiling purposefully as his flattened expression.

He hummed a little, looking up to the ceiling. ‘Not going to be able to carry you up to bed anymore.’

‘I’ll have to not get so drunk.’

He laughed, shaking his head.

‘I think it’s good,’ she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. ‘I think it’s good that we try to remain a little professional.’

‘A little?’ Tommy murmured, trying to hide his smile and tilting his head in that way he did when she was being simply delightful.

Burning cheeks, she nodded. ‘Somewhat.’

‘Somewhat,’ Tommy agreed, finally grinning, a full grin he reserved for her, and for special occasions. ‘Alright, Miss Owen. Professional it is – somewhat, a little.’

Nancy pressed her lips together, smiling as he opened the door, but then frowning when he closed it over again.

‘I can still kiss you goodnight though, can’t I?’

Nancy could barely speak though, because the memory of the kiss from the night before shot into her mind like a bullet. He didn’t do it though, not until she answered. Tightly, she said, ‘I don’t think it’s unheard of for people to greet and say goodbye with a kiss on the cheek.’

Tommy was clearly amused, and the way he looked at her made Nancy feel like he either thought she was a silly little girl, or that she was way out of her depths. But, keeping his hand on the handle, he reached the other out and gripped her waist, tugging her into him and kissing her roughly on the cheek.

Nancy’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, and she pressed her own lips to the side of his face, breathing out a sigh against him. She’d needed to be held. She hadn’t realised how badly. ‘Thank you for listening to me.’

‘I am capable of it sometimes.’

She chuckled, feeling the firmness of his hand rubbing up and down her spine, caressing her and gripping her. ‘Goodnight, Mr Shelby.’

‘Goodnight, sweetheart.’

__________

Nancy woke up in the morning feeling like she’d been hit by a train, but at the same time, with a sense of peacefulness she hadn’t felt – well, ever.

She dressed, making herself presentable, then took herself downstairs into the shop where Kenny was chatting with James. ‘Morning gentlemen.’

‘Nance! How’d you sleep? Kenny’s been filling me in,’ James said with glee, but Kenny was frowning.

‘There’s been a lad outside all night, Nance. Only left when I opened the shop. You know which,’ he said, tapping his temple.

‘I’ll ask about it,’ she said with a tight smile. He couldn’t bloody help himself.

Nancy only lasted until the afternoon, painting and cleaning, sending a note to Ada asking if she’d want to go shopping the next day, that she’d knock for her on her way to the shops. But when she put on her coat to go buy something for dinner, putting her hand in her pocket and pulling out a wage slip including a generous bonus, and then when she stepped outside of the shop and into the dimming night and saw a Peaky boy across the street just settling in for his babysitting shift, she could handle it no longer.

‘Tommy in?’ she asked Scudboat, obviously looking harassed because he simply shook his head and said:

‘Pub, love.’

She rushed out and thank you and got walking. It was getting darker, and she didn’t fancy walking home alone in it.

The Garrison wasn’t too busy, just enough that she had to elbow her way through a few conversations on the way in. Tommy was at the bar, stood straight with an invisible barrier around him. But she crossed it immediately, standing so close that her chest brushed against his arm.

‘Evening, Nancy, not fancy painting tonight?’ he asked, immediately sensing he was in for a classic Nancy Owen telling off.

‘No, not really. It’s a bit uncomfortable doing anything when there’s someone stood outside your house looking through your windows.’

‘The bottle, Harry. A glass for Nancy,’ he called, gesturing to her, completely unphased.

‘Evening, Nancy, love.’

‘Hi Harry,’ she snapped, then sent him an apologetic smile. He only chuckled, moving on.

Tommy clutched the glasses and the bottle in one hand and slipped his other hand into hers, leading her through to the office.

‘Why not the snug?’

‘John’s in there – Esme too. Would you rather have this conversation with their input?’ he asked as he poured drinks, holding one out to her which she took with a glare.

‘Why is there a man outside the flat? Kenny said there was one there this morning too.’

Tommy actually looked a little sheepish, glancing away from her as he finished his drink. ‘I didn’t want to leave you,’ he mumbled.

‘What?’

He met her eye, tilting his head back a little. ‘I didn’t want to leave you there last night. Alone. Didn’t feel safe enough. It’s not good enough.’

She scoffed, sighed, squinted her eyes at him, but her heart twisted - ached. ‘I’ve got to live my life, Tommy.’

‘Neither of them did anything to interfere with that, did they?’ he reasoned, raising one brow into a point.

‘Not directly, but – and what is this?’ she asked, all flustered and harassed.

He smirked at the envelope. ‘A wage slip.’

‘That you snuck into my coat.’

‘That I hand delivered to my employee, yes.’

Nancy looked at him flatly. ‘Tommy.’

‘Miss Owen.’

Jaw dropping, she glared at his amused smirk and turned to leave. He chuckled.

‘Nancy, everyone got one. Success from the races, I promise. I just used it as an excuse to see you, alright?’

‘I’m going home now,’ she sighed and left the room, glancing around, seeing a few of the Peaky Boys opening their envelopes together with a cheer. She sighed, rolling her eyes and marched from the pub. ‘I can walk home on my own.’

‘Alright,’ Tommy called from behind her, stepping casually as she trotted up the stony street.

‘Goodnight, Mr Shelby!’ she half yelled, turning to call it to him, seeing him strolling and smirking.

Tommy breathed out a laugh into the night. ‘Goodnight, my love.’

Nancy growled, but slowed, letting him catch up to her. She sent him a side ways glare, and he grinned like a tom cat.

'Come on, let's finish off the painting and have a bloody drink.'

Nancy glanced down to where the top of the whiskey bottle stuck out of his pocket and clenched her jaw to stop from giving away her amusement.

Chapter Text

Nancy looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, wiping the smudged make up from under her eyes with a drunken chuckle and straightening the straps of her slip, padding on bare feet back through to the kitchen, eyes passing over their folded clothes on the counter and where his coat hung on the handle of one of the high cabinets.

Swaying back through to the bedroom, she smirked at the sight of Tommy stood on the bed in his vest and boxers, painting the ceiling, a fag between his lips, squinting at the smoke in his eyes as he went carefully around the light fitting with the brush.

She hadn’t a clue what time it was, but they’d opened Kenny’s bottle of whiskey he kept in the backroom of the shop after they’d finished the other and Tommy had promised to replace it.

‘Do I look the part?’ she asked, trying to keep her expression serious when he turned to look at her. There, in her satin nightie, hair all escaping her French plait, chest all pink from the whiskey, his cap on her head and her eyes like a doe.

He took the fag from between his lips, nodding. ‘Welcome to the Peaky Blinders, Miss Owen. Get paint on my cap and I’ll have to fire you.’

Giggling, she pulled it down further, moving back through to the bathroom to have another look at herself. ‘I think I suit it,’ she called, fixing the whisps of hair around her face. She caught the glint of the razor as she moved her head and stiffened slightly, lifting it off her head.

It was easy for Nancy to forget, when they were playing as they do.

Tommy heard her gasp and swear under her breath, dropping the brush on the floor and dumping his cigarette in the ash tray once he’d stepped off the bed and marched through. ‘Nance?’

‘There’s none on the cap,’ she promised, glancing at it on the floor with a grimace.

He was more focused on her hands though, the way one cradled a towel around the other. Frowning, he stepped forward. ‘Let’s see.’

She let him pull the towel away, showing the cut on her finger, scrunching her face as blood pooled and began dripping. She tipped her finger upwards, letting the blood run down over her knuckle and up her wrist.

Tommy did something marvellous, confusing, shocking, and sweet. He put the throbbing tip of her finger between his lips, pressing his tongue against the cut, tasting the iron of her blood as he looked her in the eyes with disappointment.

‘Sorry. I didn’t think it would be so sharp.’

She could feel every bump of his tongue against her, the warmth of his hands, the wetness of his mouth.

Then he pulled away, and the stinging of her finger took over, but he was inspecting it closely, squinting and frowning in concentration. The blood was running again. ‘Jesus.’

The towel was pressed tightly around her finger, and he instructed her to keep it squeezed on.

‘It’s because of the drink. Your blood is thin,’ he told her, rubbing his eyes, sobering up and picking up his cap, moving back to the kitchen. ‘We’ll go to Jeremiah.’

‘It’s not that bad, it’s the middle of the night, Tommy,’ Nancy rushed, shaking her head. ‘I don’t want to go out.’

He was pulling his trousers on though, sighing at her. ‘Come on, what do you want to wear, ey?’

‘This,’ she moaned, peeling back the towel. ‘It’s not that bad, Tommy. It’ll stop.’

Tommy walked to her with a dress. ‘Cover it up – squeeze, yeah? Get this on.’

He helped her manoeuvre her arm into the dress then started on the buttons at the front. Nancy watched him, his long lashes shadowing focused drunken eyes, his mouth open just ever so slightly. She could hear her heart beating, and his soft breaths.

It was that kind of drunk where everything is a haze, and every moment lasted all of two seconds but also almost a lifetime.

His hands at the front of her dress, half done, he glanced up and met her eyes, lingering there a moment, held still in time. Then he looked back down, shaking his head ever so gently and finishing up. ‘Come on, coat.’

________

Of all the people to see, the milk man was out, leaving bottles on doorsteps, nodding to Tommy as they walked past, Nancy tucked tightly into his side. She was highly disorientated. They’d been laughing, playing, drinking, painting. Like the big break they both needed. Then this.

Everything would always go to shit, even that.

‘I don’t want stitched up, Tommy.’

‘I’ll hold your hand,’ he murmured, then pulled her towards a side ally. He knocked on a door firmly, and after a little wait, Jeremiah appeared, frowning, looking Tommy over with apprehension. ‘Nancy’s had an accident.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she rushed out, sounding ridiculously drunk now that she was out in the fresh air and looking at Miah, who was stone cold sober and wearing only a vest and some tugged on trousers.

He smirked a little at Tommy, who shook his head and rolled his eyes, but pushed her forwards and into the house, keeping his hand firmly in the small of her back.

Nancy glanced at a clock they passed. Almost four.

What had then been doing all that time?

Talking, really, she supposed. About nothing. Being children, horses, travellers, how Arthur was, anything but Danny, anything but the war. Like normal people that nothing had ever happened to.

She was put onto a kitchen chair and Jeremiah gave Tommy some alcohol and a cloth, telling him to clean her up while he got his kit.

‘Unless you’re too drunk to.’

Tommy didn’t reply, only did as he was told, frowning at her still.

‘I knew the smile wouldn’t last long,’ she said flatly and Tommy looked up in shock, flinching a little when she winced at the sting.

Jeremiah came back into the room, taking the seat Tommy lifted himself from and taking hold of Nancy’s hand. He tutted a little as he worked, sterilising the needle, wiping off the fresh blood. ‘Ready?’

Nancy closed her eyes, turning her face away too in case she was tempted to look. When the needle went in, all she could see was Tommy’s arm after to bullet. Then Dan. Dan lying there, with a hole not worth sewing up.

A hot hand landed on the back of her neck, thumb rubbing soothing lengths up the side and fingers rolling in the gap of her collar bones.

‘One more,’ Miah spoke quietly, holding her hand a bit tighter as she’d started to tremble. He glanced at Tommy and away again, noting the dark look on his face.

It was a small cut to anyone really, but to the both of them, it was like a bad omen. No joy without pain, no good without the bloody, and no break for Nancy. Not really.

When he snipped the bandage he’d wrapped around her finger, Nancy tore her hand away and pushed to stand, holding it to her chest. ‘Thank you.’

‘Nancy,’ Tommy called, giving Miah and apologetic look and following her as she rushed towards the door. ‘Nancy, wait-’ he was almost chuckling, he was so surprised. ‘Nancy, come on, love.’

Finally back into the fresh air, she leaned against the wall of the alley, pressing a hand over her heart and taking deep breaths, eyes closed, head tilted up to the lightening sky.

Tommy came out, closing the door, looking the other way first then back at her, sighing. ‘What’s happening, ey, Nancy?’

‘Can you take me home?’ she asked without look at him, focusing on her breathing.

‘Of course,’ he sighed and waited until she was ready, then fell into step beside her. ‘What was that?’

‘I couldn’t get the picture of Dan out of my head,’ she said, grimacing, shaking her head. ‘Will you tell Jeremiah I’m sorry.’

‘He wont mind, he was too busy sending me looks about bringing a bleeding women to his house in the middle of the night,’ Tommy said, attempting a soft smile, but she was still sneering a little. ‘It’s fine, Nancy.’

They got back to the barbers, went up to the flat. It felt like a crime scene somehow. Their joy being the crime.

Nancy swallowed and moved through to the bathroom, turning the bath on to fill and moving back into the kitchen, glancing through the open bedroom door to see him packing up the paint and brushes. Slipping off her shoes, she one handed dug for a clean night dress, the one he’d gotten her.

Tommy had darkened, she could feel it. His mind had gone somewhere else too, so she didn’t speak, only let him carry on the simple task he’d chosen to focus on.

In the bath, she mulled over the evening, how she’d howled laughter when he’d said he was stripping off for painting. Then they had, and it hadn’t even meant anything, because it felt like they were at home.

When they were alone, it was like they were different people. Tom and Nance. Like how she and John had once been Mary and Joseph, but instead of it being sexual, it was a different kind of intimate. She hadn’t really known where it had all come from, and couldn’t define a single point where these new people had stepped into the world.

Tommy had been silent the whole time, until he creaked up to the cracked door and spoke with a tight voice, ‘Listen, Nance, I’m going to go home.’

‘Oh, I’m getting out now, hang on.’

Tommy listened to her step out, gazing at the droplets of blood on the floor, unable to look away from them. She rubbed herself down with a towel swiftly and threw the slip over her head. It stuck to her where she hadn’t dried herself properly, and Tommy’s eyes stuck to those places as he took in her fresh and clean appearance.

‘Kept the bandage out,’ she said, showing him her finger, then frowned. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘You were right, you know. About needing to be somewhat professional. We got carried away with the drink.’

He had smiled at the end, but it was a wince, putting his hands in his pockets after noticeably not knowing what to do with them.

‘Oh, alright,’ Nancy whispered back, nodding, then forcing her voice to be clearer. ‘That’s alright.’

Tommy started nodding too, rubbing a hand across his forehead, eyes falling on the blood on the floor again. ‘See you later – take the morning off, ey?’

‘Alright, Tommy. I’ll see you after lunch,’ she said, but he wasn’t moving. ‘Tommy?’

He finally met her eye, giving her a tight smile and nod, then slipped past her and down the stairs. She followed him, key in hand, and unlocked the door a bit easier this time, heart floating around inside of her, trying to beat. Her stomach rolled when she stood straight again.

‘Bye, Tom,’ she tried, dipping her head a little to catch his eye, but he only flickered a glance at her.

‘Bye, Nancy.’

__________

‘Ey up Nancy-girl!’ Arthur called as he entered the shop. Not a single Shelby had been in sight all afternoon. ‘Come for a drink?’

‘Absolutely not,’ she said with a chuckle, waggling her finger at him. ‘Drink has done enough for me recently. I think it’s about time we all had some days off it.’

‘Good bloody luck with that, my darling,’ Arthur said, kissing her temple, rough and firm. ‘You coming back to the pub though to do my books or are you wanting to do them here from now on? I’m happy to fetch ‘em over like.’

She mulled it over, thinking about how her heart had been hammering every time the door opened, waiting to see if it was Tommy, waiting to see how he was going to be. ‘Actually, do you think I could do it all from the pub?’

‘The office is yours, my love!’ he announced, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze. ‘Ere, I’m going now. I’ll give you a hand ferrying your goods.’

Perhaps the extra bit of distance would do her good. She’d have to make special effort to visit Polly, but that would be alright. They’d already agreed to meet at church on Sunday.

She was also less likely to run into John in the back office of the pub, and if he were in for a drink, she’d only know about it on her way out or in and there would be other people to act as buffers.

In the days that followed, Nancy didn’t see a single breath nor a whisper of Thomas Shelby. Polly met her at church and they watched the service together, then carried on to meet up with Ada and the three of them took Karl for a push around in the fresh air. They talked about wanting to see the flat, and she said they could when she had somewhere they could actually sit down. It was easy, comfortable.

Monday came and she took her bonus and bought a sofa and an armchair, then curtains and some kitchen essentials. She spent the rest of the day setting up, making the flat a home. It didn’t feel like it that night, but in the morning when she woke up to darkness instead of the light shining through the windows, and curled up on the armchair with a cup of tea, she felt something akin to content if she willed all the other things away for long enough.

She spent the morning in Kenny’s, chatting as she used to, and for just a minute, when she was stirring a cup of tea, she realised she hadn’t thought a single thought about the Shelby’s for the most part of the morning. It was almost as if the whole thing hadn’t happened.

She stepped through, carrying the tea, and the vivid memory of the boys having their hair cut, and her, washed over her. She set Ken’s tea down beside where he sat in her usual spot at the desk and took herself to one of the barber chairs, turning it to face him.

‘Think I should cut mine?’

Ken looked up, chuckling. ‘You once told me you’d never be caught with short hair, because all them girls would regret it when it wasn’t the style any more.’

‘Not short short!’ she stressed, turning back to the mirror and testing her hair at different lengths, settling just below her shoulder. ‘What do you think?’

Ken grunted as he stood, and waddled over to her, hand on his hip and the other touching her hair. He looked at her in the mirror, squinting and making a big performance of his inspection. Kenny's eyes were twinkling. It was the first he'd seen of his old Nancy since she started all the Shelby business. ‘Aye, I think it’s about time. Don’t you?’

Pressing her lips together, she nodded and grinned when he waggled the scissors at her. ‘It’s time.’

Chapter Text

It had been five days without a word from Tommy. The lads had become regulars at the barbers, and she couldn’t go anywhere without hearing, ‘Morning, Miss Owen,’ or, ‘Afternoon, Miss Owen.’

It was like he was around, but he wasn’t. Caps and coats everywhere she looked, but no Tommy. It was both freeing and unsettling.

She had a note in her diary that some of his shoes she’d took for mending would need picking up, and wondered if that was still her responsibility. But nothing about her job had changed, she just didn’t live in the office anymore.

So she readied herself, walked through the shop, greeting Kenny and the two Blinders in waiting for their turns in the chair. They didn’t have their caps on, but she knew who they were now, at least by face.

‘I’ve a note for you, Miss Owen,’ one of them said, stopping her. He was called Matthew, and she’d seen him around before, lingering outside the barbers on the evening shift. Even those seemed to have dropped off though.

‘Thanks, Matthew,’ she said with a smile, wondering how any of them could possibly be as violent and threatening as she’d always thought that they were. She unfolded the note, knowing Polly’s writing. Family meeting. Breathing in a sharp breath, she smiled again at Matthew and wished Kenny a goodbye.

It would have been easy to convince herself that Tommy was avoiding her on purpose. But really, they’d lived in the same house before. All those times they ran into each other was mostly coincidence. There was no reason for him to show up at the barbers every night.

It still felt like rejection, like he was building a wall she couldn’t even see to break it down. There was an airy feeling of relief, but it was clouded over by desperation. Claws gripping onto their strange relationship, to her place in the house, in his life, feeling like without it she might get swept up by the world and spat out somewhere unfamiliar.

The independence was wonderful, but terribly lonely. In truth, anywhere she ended up would be unfamiliar to her.

She’d gotten too comfortable, too familiar with someone else’s life. She needed to figure out her own.

Trotting down the street, Nancy wrapped her coat tightly around her. It would be Christmas soon, and she had realised with a small horror that she’d have no children to buy for, except for maybe Finn.

She couldn’t possibly get John’s children anything, though she wanted to. Wanted to for them though, not for him. It killed her to think of Dan’s boys, and the Shelby brood, thinking that she didn’t love them enough to send them anything.

Stepping into the cobblers, the smell of leather hit her, and it was luxurious. The man behind the counter was different to the young apprentice who she’d dealt with last time. ‘Good morning.’

‘Morning, love,’ the man greeted, raising a brow, pencil hovering over his page. ‘Picking up?’

‘For Thomas Shelby,’ Nancy murmured, glancing down, not wanting to watch the man’s reaction.

‘I’ll be right with you,’ he grunted, easing from his stool and into the back workshop.

Nancy turned, looking at all the shoes on show in the shop, then caught eyes on someone out of the window. Ada was there, talking to Karl in his pram. Nancy grinned, knocking on the glass and gesturing two minutes when Ada waved.

The man fetched the shoes in a box, writing a note in the book, watching her in a way he thought wasn’t obvious. ‘Will that be all?’

Nancy nodded. ‘Does he have anything to pay?’

‘Depends, will I get a brick through my window for charging?’ he grumbled with a raised brow, and Nancy felt instantly defensive.

She squared her shoulders, looking at him with a pointed brow, waiting.

Keeping her gaze, he held out a page and gave her a slightly challenging look. ‘You’re that whore then, are you?’

Snatching the note, and the shoe box, Nancy marched from the shop with a face turned sour.

‘What’s got you in a knot?’ Ada asked with a chuckle, looking back at the cobblers and meeting eyes with the man through the window. ‘He give you trouble?’

‘No, just generally being unpleasant,’ Nancy huffed, then looked at Karl with a soft smile. ‘Hello, little man. He’s so big.’

‘He’s a chunk, all he does is eat. I’m a feeding machine, Nance. It’s like your body isn’t your own,’ she moaned, but then softened. ‘Lovely though. Totally lovely.’

‘How’s Freddie?’

‘Enjoying his freedom,’ Ada said with a chuckle, then looked at her properly, and stopped. ‘Nancy!’

‘What?’ she laughed, flushing as Ada looked over her with an excited grin.

‘You’ve cut your bloody hair!’

‘Oh, well, I’d forgotten you hadn’t seen it really,’ she said bashfully as Ada inspected her.

‘Not a princess anymore,’ she said, but it was with pride as she started pushing the pram anymore, smirking a little in a way that was awfully like her brother. ‘A queen.’

‘Of my very own castle above the barbers.’

The girls laughed, and Ada said, ‘Well, it’s better than a spare bedroom. Isn’t it?’

Nancy thought about it a moment, and nodded. ‘It’s strange being so alone, but I think I’ve always been alone really. Just, there was always other people around.’

‘It’ll do you the world of good – are you going later?’

Nancy nodded again. ‘Are you?’

Ada sneered and spoke low but firm, ‘No. I’m not having anything to do with it, Nance. Don’t tell me anything either. I don’t want to know.’

Nancy pressed her lips shut and the pair walked up the street together. ‘Where are you heading?’

Ada gave her a grim sideways glance. ‘John’s asked me to make nice with Esme. Says no one else has put any effort in and she doesn’t feel wanted.’

‘They’ve only been married five minutes,’ Nancy sighed, and Ada grinned.

‘Never known you, Nancy Owen, to have a negative comment on anyone,’ she teased with an impressed squint.

Nancy rolled her eyes but could feel her cheeks burning. ‘It’s not because-’

‘I know exactly why it is,’ Ada spoke over her, then met her eye. ‘Coming?’

Nancy firmly shook her head, which made Ada bark laughter. ‘You have fun though.’

‘Oh, you too,’ she replied sarcastically, but then grinned. ‘It suits you, the hair.’

‘Thanks, Ada – bye Karl!’

Ada pulled a final wide-eyed look as she turned towards John’s house and Nancy sped up a little on the street, not wanting to get caught anywhere near. She felt like a scandal, somehow. Even though surely Esme wouldn’t know. She couldn’t, not unless John was a mad man or a complete idiot.

She pushed on towards the Shelby home and by passed the door to the house and went into the shop instead. Scudboat greeted her, then looked up and across the room to where Arthur was stood with a few lads, chatting away.

She felt nervous somehow, for seeing Tommy. Since she’d been brought to Watery Lane from the brothel, this was the longest she’d gone without seeing him. And John. Well, that was a whole other matter. She didn’t know if she’d feel nothing at all, everything at once, or simply pure rage. Either way there was the risk of crying and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

‘Alright, our Nance,’ Arthur greeted, kissing her cheek then leaning back as he held her shoulders. He was always so hot, and smelt like cigar smoke and whiskey – not in a dirty way, but in a way that always warmed and comforted her. Arthur was mental, he really was, but there was something so pure about him. ‘You’ve had the bloody chop!

Touching her hair, grinning, she asked, ‘Do you like it?’

‘Do I – boys, doesn’t our Nance look smashing, ey? As beautiful as ever!’

The lads around them chuckled as Nancy widened her eyes, flushing. ‘I’ve got a package for Tommy.’

‘Ere, come on. Pol’s int kitchen, John too. We’re just waiting on Tom.’

She said, ‘Okay,’ but it came out in a whisper.

Arthur kept hands on her shoulders, marching behind her, as if he could read her mind and knew she was thinking of running and never looking back. He murmured something, so low she only just caught it. ‘You’ll be alright, our Nance.’

Taking a deep breath, she stepped through to the kitchen.

‘Look who I found!’

John and Polly looked up, Polly with a soft but tense smile, and John with a blank look of shock that began to twist into something worse.

‘She’s here but Esme isn’t allowed?’

‘John,’ Polly warned, shaking her head with fingertips on her temple. ‘I don’t fucking decide, alright. I just wrote the notes.’

But John’s sneer was set. ‘Bloody ridiculous.’

Arthur squeezed her shoulders then stepped around Nancy, keeping one hand on her as he reached for a glass from the shelf. ‘Drink, Nance?’

Swallowing, making sure she wasn’t going to croak, she glanced at Polly who widened her eyes lightly and said, ‘Yes, please.’

She was almost afraid to go to near to John. If anyone should be angry out of the two of them, it really should have been her. But he wasn’t glaring at her. His eyes flickered over her, his face still grim, but she could see the shame in him. He wasn’t as good at hiding as Tommy, never was.

Nancy took a seat next to Polly, and the room fell into silence, Arthur’s bumbling movements around the room feeling loud and jarring. She gulped half of the drink down as soon as it was in front of her, glancing at John who was now looking anywhere but her.

‘What’s in the box?’ Arthur asked, tapping it where Nancy had set it on the table next to her. He sent her a soft look, showing her that he was trying to break the tension.

‘Shoes, nothing exciting – saw Ada on my way back,’ she said and cleared her throat a little, looking in John’s general direction, ‘Said she was on her way to yours – to see Esme.’

John did not smile as she’d hoped at the offered branch of conversation, in fact, he glared so harshly at Polly that Nancy wondered how she didn’t flinch. ‘Oh, caught wind did you, Pol? That I’d asked her to drop round? Wonder who suggested she go now, while we’re all here?’

‘Leave it, John.’

He ignored Arthur and pressed again, ‘Ey, Pol? Sent Ada round there as a distraction? She’s my fucking wife – she’s family. She should be here.’

Nancy didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered to her ever so briefly, and neither did Arthur, who leaned across the table, one hand firmly on the back of Nancy’s chair and the other pointing a finger at John. ‘Don’t you say anything you’ll regret, John-boy.’

John scoffed. ‘Can’t regret telling the truth, Arthur. Tommy fucking made me marry her but won’t have her as part of the family – part of the business. Last I checked Nancy was Owen, not Shelby. Unless he’s got plans for that too.’

‘Don’t you dare bring me into this. I’ve been at these meetings for months,’ Nancy snapped, shocking Polly and Arthur. The former smirking, the latter grimacing. ‘I’m sorry your beloved wife of one week hasn’t been invited, but that has nothing to do with me.’

‘Don’t talk about my fucking wife, Nancy,’ John warned low, shaking his head, his eyes burning. ‘Don’t fucking talk about her.’

‘Don’t talk about me then,’ she quipped back, face calm, shrugging her shoulders. Her hands trembled though where she’d tucked them under her arms. Rage, pure rage. She knew later it would be hurt and upset, but in that moment, it was only anger. ‘You’ve never had a problem with me being here before, what’s changed?’

‘I’m married!’

‘What, you’re afraid me being here is going to affect that? Me being here has nothing to do with you, John. Or your marriage.’

John grit his teeth, all red in the face. Nancy’s fake calm was infuriating him. ‘Of course it fucking does, how naïve can you be, ey? He’s twisted you in that many fucking circles you don’t even know what you’re looking at.’

‘You-’ she started, voice straining, the anger finally breaking out, ‘- know fuck all about me and about him.’

‘Know he’s been at Lizzie Stark’s house almost every night this week. All’s not so well in paradise, is it, princess?’

‘John!’ Polly barked, but Nancy had already flung the contents of her glass across the table and over him. John shot up in his chair.

‘That’s right, Nancy – you’re not special, and you’re no more a part of this family than that fucking whore up the road! She’s had us both as well!’

Everything went silent at the click of the back door, eyes lifting and heads turning to see Tommy stood with eyes dead set on his younger brother. His jaw was tight, hands stiff in his pockets, dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping, and he was furious.

His eyes flicked to Nancy, looking her over swiftly, then flickered to Polly and Arthur. Polly gave him a knowing look, that aired on the side of disappointed. He knew whatever had occurred, she likely though it was his fault.

He stepped into the room, removing his gloves calmly and with a sniff. ‘What was that, John?’

‘Why isn’t my wife here?’ he ground out, not bothering, or unable to, hide his anger.

Nancy looked down, ashamed, and afraid. The tension in the room was so heavy she felt like she might not be able to lift her head again and didn’t think she’d want to.

Tommy’s brow quirked as he slipped off his coat and hung it up, scratching his nose. It was an act of normalcy. He was trying to stay calm, unlike John who looked ready to kill.

‘You made her a part of this family but won’t treat her like it.’

‘I don’t know her yet,’ he said simply, eyes on the table as he set a fag between his lips and lit it, inhaling sharply then looking at him with a gesture to his shirt. ‘You spill your drink?’

John’s eyes flickered to Nancy. ‘No.’

Tommy looked to her too then, dipping his tilted head, trying to catch her gaze. ‘You alright, Nancy?’

‘I’m fine,’ she said firmly, then lifted her head, heart hammering. She glared at John. ‘Brought you your shoes.’

‘Thank you, Nancy. Shall we start the meeting then, if we’re all fine?’

‘I’m not fucking fine!’ John yelled. ‘Esme should be here!’

Polly brushed a hand lightly down Nancy’s arm, who smiled softly at her in thanks.

‘Esme is a stranger to us yet, John,’ Tommy said smoothly, flicking his ash and taking his seat. He gestured to them. ‘Shall we sit?’

‘She was a fucking stranger n’all and you had her in all our business fast enough,’ John argued, gesturing to Nancy who sent a firm glare. John’s face flickered a little with guilt. It wasn’t about Nancy, not really. But there were few things else he could say that would phase Tommy.

Polly finally snapped. ‘The problem isn’t Nancy, John. And if it is, it isn’t because you think she doesn’t belong here, it’s because it’s too bloody messy for you to have her here now you’ve got another woman on the go.’

‘I’m married.’

‘So you’ve said,’ Polly said firmly, daring him to start with her.

Tommy had been watching the conversation happen, looking to Nancy too, watching her reactions. She was getting redder and redder with rage. He’d seen her angry before, but not like this.

It was embarrassment too, that feeling of being unwanted, and John, of all people, being the one that didn’t want her. The only thing she could be really sure of was that John wanted her until now. He wasn’t allowed to now, and maybe that was the problem.

But still, she’d stood here and declared herself a part of this family, argued that she had every right to be there. It was mortifying.

And Tommy. Lizzie Stark.

It was too much.

Nancy muttered, ‘Sorry, Pol,’ moving around the table in a hurry and passing behind Tommy to get her coat off the hook.

‘Where are you going?’

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t bare too. What would she even say?

Tommy sighed. ‘Well done, John.’

‘She’s got nothing to do with me.’

Sneering, Nancy gave John the nastiest look she could muster, feeling her stupid eyes well up. But he had the decency to look surprised, that didn’t cover up his anger though. ‘Fuck you, John.’

‘Already did, love,’ he mumbled, out of pure cruelty.

Nancy looked firmly at Tommy. ‘Don’t ask me back here again.’

He rose a brow at her, looking over her upset, her anger, and gave a slow shake of his head, but Nancy could feel her eyes beginning to fill over, so she turned and she left, and no one tried to stop her.

The cold bit at her lips and her cheeks, making the cut on her finger throb as she balled her hands to fists and marched up the road. The conversation played over in her mind, and she could feel her expression shifting and changing with each nasty thing John said, and every devastating realisation she had.

She must had looked a mad women, but even worse when she tripped over a loose brick in the road and landed on her hands and knees.

It shocked her into pausing, realising how fast she’d been going. Looking around, she saw no one else in the street, which was a small victory. The shops were shut and everyone had gone home. Looking forwards, she was reminded of another terrible thing from her day.

Picking up the brick she’d tripped on, Nancy rushed to stand in front of the cobblers, and threw it through the window with a growl.

Then she carried on walking, panting, flushed and beginning to feel rain on her skin.

__________

She’d locked herself in the flat like a fugitive, glancing out of the windows, waiting for police, or possibly worse, Thomas Shelby to arrive. But after an hour no one had come, so she finally got changed and took herself to bed.

She lay there for a while, trying to distract herself, but it didn’t work. She, like some kind of mad woman, she dressed again and took herself out.

Polly opened the door of Watery Lane with an apprehensive look. ‘Hello, Nancy Owen. Are you aware it’s pouring down?’

Nancy nodded, breathless from how fast she’d rushed over. ‘Pub?’

Polly grinned and got her coat on. ‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ she called over the rain. ‘Fucking weather!’

‘I’m not sitting at home feeling like shit because of John Shelby, Pol – can’t do it!’ Nancy called back, looking behind her to where Polly was laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

When they got through the doors of the pub, they fell into each other, laughing and stripping out of their wet coats, Darren, who they’d met with Georgie, called, ‘Forget your brolly, Pol?’

Polly looked up and smirked. ‘Shut up, Darren. Get me and Nance a round in and I promise not to throw it on you.’

Nancy looked, finding Darren and Georgie with a couple of other men she vaguely knew. Polly walked on passed her to them and started greeting them, and Nancy followed.

‘The princess is here, boys!’ Georgie called, coming to Nancy with a cheeky grin. ‘Hello, love.’

What followed was all merry making. Polly was a marvel again, telling stories, cracking jokes. The centre of the universe. But this time, Nancy found herself doing it too. She held the group in the palm of her hands, showing off her new hair, playing and sharing herself with the world with stories and dancing and loud open laughter, more honest than any promise or vow.

She didn’t really realise how drunk she was until she stood up and swayed herself to the toilets, remembering Grace and all of everything. If it wasn't for her then Dan might still be alive. She might be in London with him instead of here with John shouting at her and Tommy being as strange as ever. ‘Fucking Grace.’

‘You talking to yourself?’ Georgie asked from where he’d been waiting for her outside, smirking at her surprise.

Putting her hands on her cheeks, mortified, then stepping to him and smacking his chest. ‘Shut up.’

‘Hey, hey, don’t you be cruel with me, sweetheart. I’ll be broken,’ he said, hand over his heart, still that cocky look on his face. He watched her smile form and grinned, touching the tops of her arms and pulling her a little closer, watching over the top of her head. ‘Listen,’ he said, speaking low. 'I asked Polly after you.’

‘You asked after me?’

‘A few times, aye. She always said she wasn’t sure what was going on, but tonight she says you’re free. I didn’t dare ask Tommy, didn’t want to loose me legs for asking after his girl – pretty as you are.’

‘Georgie,’ she scolded lightly, shaking her head and looking away from his intense gaze.

‘Well, I didn’t want to offend anyone, you see. Especially not you. I just was thinking you might want to go for a drink sometime, you know, me and you?’ he offered, looking a little nervous suddenly.

‘I don’t think you want to go anywhere with me,’ Nancy said and took a step back, leaning against the wall. At his grin, she tried to squash a smirk. ‘Stop looking at me like that.’

‘I’m smiling at you, love. You not used to lads smiling at you?’ he teased, stepping closer, tilting his head with a slanting smile. ‘You should be, Nancy. You’re bloody beautiful.’

Head back against the wall, eyes lazy and lidded, she shook her head. No. She actually wasn’t used to them smiling at her, not like this. ‘I’ll go for a drink with you, Georgie.’

‘Yeah?’ he half-whispered, finger reaching out and tracing the buttons of her dress. ‘What will you have?’

Nancy’s chest was tightening, her breathing shallow as he leaned closer. She had to tip her head back further to look up at him, his eyes roving her face. ‘Gin,’ she whispered, ‘Maybe rum.’

‘Rum,’ he mused, his gaze focused only on her mouth. ‘I like rum.’

As Nancy’s lips pulled to a smile, he grinned too, flicking his eyes to hers, asking permission, which she granted.

Pressed against the wall in the Garrison, lingering in a dark corner, was not where she thought she’d have her first decent kiss with a decent man. Whatever had happened with John had all been sullied now. It was grouped in with all the rest. And Tommy’s kiss – well, Tommy’s kiss wasn’t really a kiss. It was nothing.

Georgie kissed her with a little bit of nerves, but there was a confidence too. He wanted her, but he wasn’t pushing her. It wasn’t a kiss that would turn into more. It was a kiss for now. A kiss that was because he really wanted to kiss her, but not because he needed it to be anything else, not yet. It wasn’t a stepping stone to bigger things.

His hands were on her waist, gentle but gripping, and he smiled into the kiss, which turned into a chuckle, making her giggle. He pulled away, keeping hold of her as he licked his lips. ‘Come on, Polly’ll have my neck if she thinks I’m feeling you up in dark corners.’

But when Nancy looked over, Polly was draped over Darren, speaking low in his ear, smirking and sultry. She started to feel a bit overwhelmed. ‘I’m going to sneak off now, before it’s too dark.’

‘Need me to walk you back?’ he asked, following her to the doors and helping her with her coat on. She declined, so he said, ‘I haven’t scared you off, have I?’

Nancy kissed his cheek, shaking her head. ‘Come pick me up on Friday night – seven?’

Georgie grinned, wildly, touching her cheek and glancing at her lips but not leaning in to meet them. ‘Aye, love. I’ll be seeing you then.’

Nancy slipped from the doors and into the street. The rain had thinned out, just a light dusting of it in the air. She was only just starting to think about everything when a hand grabbed her and tugged her harshly into an ally way.

‘Told him then, did ya? My fucking shop has been rained in because of you – a whole window I’ve got to replace, you silly bitch!’

It was the cobbler, growling at her, gripping her, shaking her. It was so opposite to the exchange she’d just come from that she could barely react. And she’d been so angry, so so angry, when she’d thrown the brick, she’d almost blocked it out of her memory.

Nancy’s mouth opened and closed a few times, but he was rageful and red, right in her face.

And then he wasn’t.

Matthew had grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him off her, shoving him to the ground and kicking the man twice, three times, in the stomach. He lifted him by his lapels and said firmly, ‘You’ll be hearing from us, Mr Barker. Now fuck off.’

He scrambled away, doing as he was told, and Matthew, panting, looked at Nancy.

‘You alright? Bloody hell. When Tom said to watch you I didn’t think anything would actually ever happen. Said he had to have eyes everywhere,’ Matthew said, breathing a laugh of relief and shaking his head. ‘Bloody good job, too. You okay, Miss Owen?’

‘I’m fine,’ she mumbled, unpinning herself from the wall, taking a few trembling breaths. ‘Will you walk me home, please, Matthew?’

He nodded with concern, and lead her back onto the lane, walking beside her like her own personal escort.

The knock would come later, when it was dark, and she’d look down out of the window to see Tommy there, gazing up at her with his all seeing eyes.

Yes, Tommy Shelby saw everything in Birmingham. He owned it. And he owned her too.

Chapter Text

Nancy leaned back on the kitchen counter, holding Tommy’s gaze. They’d been silent the entire time, as she let him in, as they made their way upstairs, as he slipped out of his coat. He’d been staring, observing – waiting.

Finally, he tilted his head and asked in a low low rumble, ‘Are you alright?’

Licking her lips, Nancy nodded and swallowed. She was half-way sobered up and slightly tired, mostly terrified. ‘Are you?’

Tommy’s brows flicked up in the middle as he slowly nodded. ‘I’m alright, Nancy. If you are.’

She hadn’t yet decided why he was here. John, the window, Georgie, walking home alone, getting attacked? He could be furious about any of them. ‘I’m fine.’

Tommy nodded, but mock confusion crossed his features as he gestured over her. ‘Are you going to be making habit of potting windows?’

Nancy shook her head and Tommy nodded again.

‘Good. Then we aren’t going to have any problems,’ he decided, seeming to relax as he breathed out a long sigh. ‘John is going to apologise to you.’

‘I really would rather that he didn’t,’ she replied with a grimace, holding her arms around herself, rubbing the tender spots where she’d been grabbed before. Tommy looked even more worn, so she added, ‘Not yet, at least.’

‘He’s angry he couldn’t have what he wanted. Angry at me, not you,’ he said calmly. Tommy was looking around the room then, at how much brighter it seemed. More like home. ‘How’s your finger?’

She looked at it as if she’d forgotten all about it. ‘Jeremiah came to see me yesterday, he’s taking the stitches out tomorrow.’

Tommy hummed in response, looking her over. ‘Polly’s making dinner on Sunday, after church. Wanted me to invite you. Whole family. But you have to promise not to throw any drinks.’

Nancy covered her eyes, laughing into her hands. ‘Oh god.’

Tommy’s lips were twitching. ‘Better than fists, Nancy. Don’t worry about it. I’m handling him.’

‘I don’t really want to talk about him, Tommy.’

‘So, tell me about Mr Baker then, at the cobblers. Because I’ve got a good idea of what happened.’ He saw her eyes lift to the skies and carried on. ‘I think he must have done something pretty fucking awful for a sweetheart like you to go mad enough to throw a brick through his window.’

‘He’s already been punished – I’ve sorted it.’

‘No,’ Tommy said firmly, chuckling a little but without any joy. ‘No, I’ve sorted it, by paying for the new window. Now I’d like to know why.’

‘Can Matthew not tell you, or Hank, or Frankie? They’ve all been following me around, haven’t they?’ she challenged, but Tommy’s face was flat.

‘Tell me what happened.’

Sighing, Nancy complied. ‘He asked if you’d put a brick through the window for asking for payment, then asked if I was ‘that whore.’ He’s a real nice man.’

‘A dead man,’ he threatened lightly, jaw tight again, looking at the bruises coming up on her arms then to her face when she covered them with her hands. His head tilted. ‘I’ll find a new shoemaker.’

‘And leave Mr Baker well alone, please.’

‘Only because you asked so sweet,’ Tommy said and finally – finally – broke out into a soft smile. He stood, looking back at the new sofa and arm chair. ‘You’re happy here?’

‘It’s quiet – sometimes that’s good, other times bad. I like it though,’ she said, then hesitated as he walked closer. ‘I do miss Watery Lane.’

‘You do?’

Nancy nodded as he came to a halt right in front of her, his thumb rubbing over the sore skin on her arms, then moving to touch her hair. ‘Do you like it?’

He was so soft, so gentle and relaxed, but then his brow quirked again. ‘George Tinnan does, doesn’t he.’

‘But do you?’ she asked with a heavy breath as he tucked a piece behind her ear, inspecting her.

‘I like everything about you, my girl. Almost.’

‘Almost?’ she asked with a laugh. ‘That’s cruel, Thomas Shelby.’

Tommy’s lips twitched in a smile, and he finally let it smooth over his face. ‘You’ll forgive me.’

‘How are you so sure?’ she asked, tilting her own head at him.

He smiled then, a most rare smile for Tommy, with calm content. ‘I’ve a few ideas of how things are going to be, Nancy Owen. I’m just waiting till all the pieces fall into place.’

‘What things?’

His eyes danced between hers, still smiling that softest smile. ‘You’ll see.’

Scoffing as he stepped back and moved to put his cap and his coat back on, Nancy crossed her arms again. ‘Tommy.’

‘Nancy,’ he teased, then said, ‘Right, come on and see me out. I need you to do a couple of bits tomorrow, if that’s alright?’

‘So, you’re done avoiding me?’ she asked over her shoulder as she set off down the stairs.

‘You spend far too much time worrying about my whereabouts, Nancy Owen.’

‘Says the man who has good decent workers wasting their time following me around all day and night.’

‘Wasn’t a waste today though, was it?’ he challenged, raising a brow. He looked out once she’d opened the door, nodding to Frankie who was across the street smoking. Tommy looked back to her, smirking a little as she waved sarcastically to Frankie. ‘You’ll make him blush, coming down like that.’

‘You make them stand out in the cold half the night, might as well warm them up a bit,’ she said with a cheeky glint, Tommy’s eyes squinting to the challenge.

‘Georgie wouldn’t be too pleased about that now, would he?’

Taking in a big breath and blowing it out through her nose, she simply said, ‘Goodnight, Mr Shelby. I’ll see you for work tomorrow.’

‘Goodnight, Miss Owen. You stay warm, now, won’t you?’

She gave him a bored look, but knew he could see the blush on her cheeks. To make matters all the worse, in full view of Frankie across the street, he pressed his lips to her forehead, gripping the back of her neck while he did.

‘Going to have to start paying these debts one day, love,’ he murmured as he stepped away and outside, thinking he was getting the last word.

‘You’re welcome to take it out of my wages, Mr Shelby. Goodnight!’

She closed the door before he could answer, but she did catch the sound of his chuckle through the wood, a proper chuckle too. One that must have opened up his chest, made him throw his head back.

__________

On Friday morning, Nancy stepped out of the barber’s and greeted, ‘Morning, Matty.’

‘Morning, Nance. How’s it going?’ he asked, falling into step beside her. ‘Here, I’ll carry that. You going somewhere nice?’

She sent him a glance, rolling her eyes because he was teasing her. ‘As a matter of fact, I am going for a drink this evening and didn’t want to have to go home to get changed.’

She’d sent a note to Georgie, with Finn who she’d caught in the betting shop, to say she’d just meet him at the Garrison. It felt more normal that way. More relaxed. She also couldn’t bare the thought of him clocking on to the guards outside her home.

‘Where’s he taking you?’

Nancy rose a brow but didn’t answer.

‘Come on, I’m just making chat.’

‘You’re being a sneak, Matty. And while I appreciate that’s your job, I’m not going to help you do it.’

Matty chuckled at that, skipping forward when they got to the pub and opening the door up for her. Inside, Harry greeted the pair of them. She took her dress bag back and took it to the office to hang up, moving back through to the pub.

‘Tea, Harry – Matthew?’

‘Yes please, Nancy, love,’ Harry said, and Matty agreed so she got to work.

All day on Friday’s she’d be locked in the office, doing paperwork for the pub, the barbers, the tailors, and Tommy too. Harry would be kept in decent cups of tea, and she’d go out and fetch him some lunch.

He liked hearing her humming away in the office, and if she got too stuffy she’d prop the door open and let the air circulate. He’d glance up and she’d be there, barefoot and scribbling, sometimes standing up to stretch.

Arthur would waltz in around eleven, hailing the good morning and giving Nancy a big sloppy kiss on the cheek or the temple. He’d bumble around her, chatting around how he was, what he’d been up to, never really giving a straight answer.

‘Arthur?’

He span from where he stood at the bar, looking up and seeing her there in the doorway, frowning. There were a few fellas in, glancing up at the barefoot beauty, watching the eldest Shelby waltz over to her.

She closed the office door behind him, and he looked at the dress hanging up on the coat peg. ‘You out tonight, our Nance?’

‘Oh yes, surprised you hadn’t heard.’

‘You know me, I like to stick to my own, not like fucking Tommy with his nose in everyone’s business.’

Nancy smiled at that, then showed him the folded note she’d found in the books. ‘Do you know what this is?’

Arthur looked, scrunching his nose up at the page. ‘Tom likely up to something shifty. He’s at the house, I’d go ask him.’

Frowning, she agreed and slipped into her shoes. ‘Need anything while I go over?’

Arthur’s hot hand fell on her back, patting her heavily. ‘No, on you go. Take my coat. It’s bloody freezing.’

She slipped into his thick woollen coat and took the scrap of paper with her. Then she was on her way, the cold stinging her as she went.

‘Hello,’ she sang as she moved passed Scudboat’s desk, tapping on the wood as she did.

‘Morning, love. Tom’s in the house.’

‘Thanks,’ she said, smiling at the men that she passed, eyes focused on her destination. She’d noticed the vague shape of John in the room and was acting as if he simply wasn’t there. Tommy came into view in the doorway, speaking to someone behind him, and she started with, ‘Oh, I was just looking for you, Mr Shelby.’

Georgie stepped in behind him and Nancy stiffened a little, but her natural reaction was to smile, even with how sheepish both men looked. In two entirely different ways. Georgie looked like a naughty little boy, looking at her with fear in his eyes, grimacing. Tommy looked away, down, rubbing his lips together and touching his hair. It was tell-tale guilty Tom.

‘Hello, Georgie.’

‘Hello, Nancy – got your note. Garrison, ey?’ he said, grinning again, over his initial shock.

‘Oh, yes, if that’s alright?’ she asked, looking to Tommy with a frown and back to Georgie who nodded.

‘I’ll see you then,’ he said, giving her cheek a swift kiss and bidding Tommy goodbye. ‘See you John-boy.’

‘Aye, see you.’

Even the sound of his voice was infuriating to her, but she was too busy glaring at Tommy to think too much about John. Turning to make sure Georgie had gone, the shining golden sun he was in the dodgy darkness of the betting shop, she turned back to Tommy with her brows raised.

‘Whose coat is that?’

Blinking, looking down with a deep frown, Nancy shook her head. ‘It’s Arthur’s – but why was George here?’

Tommy’s eyes flickered over the coat, as if making sure, then around the room before he gripped her elbow and pulled her through to the kitchen. ‘What’s up?’

She was almost in complete disbelief that he was acting so relaxed. Shocked enough though, that she just took the note from her pocket and said, ‘You had a fair amount of money taken out of last weeks earnings from the shop. There’s no name or anything with it – I just wanted to know what to put it as.’

Tommy nodded, thinking a moment as he looked at the number on the paper. ‘Just put B-O-E.’

‘Bank of England?’ she guessed with a confused frown, and he smiled.

‘You’re lovely.’ He lit a cigarette and handed it to her, then lit his own. ‘That all?’

‘Yeah, I guess,’ she said, a little spaced out. Tommy didn’t really do banks, as far as she knew. Then there was John. Georgie. Georgie here, of all places. She felt a little sick. ‘Do you need anything?’

Tommy shook his head with a simple smile, waiting for her to ask. But she didn’t.

‘I’m going to head back.’

‘You should go buy a new coat,’ he suggested when she got to the back door, not wanting to walk through the shop again.

She gave him a gentle glare, because he was being as odd as ever, and because she felt like she needed out.

The one thing she’d liked about George in the first place was that he had nothing at all to do with Thomas Shelby of the Peaky bloody Blinders. She could have raged, kicked off at Tommy and demanded to know why he was sinking his claws into him now, but she’d been too surprised. If this was how he was going to play, she’d march herself round to Lizzie Stark’s and ask if she wanted to go for a jolly bloody cup of tea.

She readied herself for her evening out all the same, painting her lips red, twisting and looking at herself in the toilet mirrors of the Garrison as best she could, vowing to have a nice time. That’s all she wanted. Something nice. Something to scare away those dark thoughts, the sad thoughts. Something to warm the chills.

At the bar, Harry gave her a light wink but said nothing, other than moving off to pour her a drink for while she waited. There were a couple of fellas milling around, a couple of eyes scanning her, a few lopsided smiles.

The pub was slowly filling, and she was starting to worry a little, until a hand lightly touched her waist. She turned, looking up, expecting to find George but meeting Tommy’s eyes instead. He drank in the expression on her face, the way it flickered from a wide grin to a light grimace.

‘Not pleased to see me?’ he asked, somewhat amused.

‘I’m always pleased to see you,’ she said, and he grinned, waiting for her to regret it. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the bar. His finger tips tapped at her bare spine.

‘You’ll freeze.’

‘I’ve got my coat. And Arthur’s.’

Tommy grunted in response, lifting two fingers from the bar in gesture to Harry. ‘Don’t think your gentleman friend would be too pleased with you wearing my big brother’s coat.’

‘Thanks, Harry.’ She finished off her first drink and gripped the second, watching Tommy drop a few coins on the bar, trailing her gaze from his hands, over his arms, up to his face. His lips were extra pink, his eyes glinting that clear blue. ‘What’s in the B-O-E then?’

‘Nosey,’ he said, glancing side ways at her, lips twitching when she rolled her eyes. ‘I’m saving up. Thought it was about time we started keeping hold of some of the cash we make.’

Pleasantly surprised, she smiled, which made him smile.

‘You’re beautiful, Georgie will be pleased,’ he told her, looking over her – a thing that made her squirm. His gaze landed on her face and held there.

‘Why was he there today, Tommy?’ Nancy asked, voice dipping low.

Tommy sniffed, leaning on the bar, frowning at his drink. ‘Offered him work – he didn’t want it.’

‘Why did you offer him work?’ she asked, standing facing him, leaning her elbow on the bar, so close she was almost brushing against him. She was being firm with him, untrusting and irritated. But Tommy was all calm.

‘Because last winter, he clocked John for dropping a cigarette on his coat he’d left on one of the bar stools. Burnt a hole in the left shoulder, only small like.’

‘What does that have to do with anything?’ she asked, scrunching her nose up.

‘A man burns a hole in his coat and buys a new one, Nancy. Georgie’s got the same one on this winter.’ He drank a sip of his drink and reached into his pockets for a cigarette, looking to her when he’d lit it and she was still silent. ‘Wanted to help him out.’

Boisterous greetings sounded by the door way, and Tommy watched over Nancy’s shoulder as George entered, chatting cheerily to some blokes near the door.

‘Lover boy is here.’

‘You can leave now – you’ve been nosey enough,’ she insisted, and Tommy met her eyes, then looked over her face, settling on her red lips for a long while, for so long that the only thing that broke his gaze was when she turned to greet George.

‘Blimey, you’re a beauty, Nance. A princess like if I ever saw one, ain’t she, Tommy?’

Nancy could feel Tom’s eyes on her, even though her back was firmly to him as he agreed flatly, ‘She’s perfect.’

George grinned, looking a bit hesitant. Nancy realised she was making things awkward and stepped back a little so that she wasn’t blocking Tommy out of the group, even though he had absolutely no business being there at all anyways.

‘We off then?’ she said, keeping her eyes fixed on George, stepping closer to him in a gesture of leaving.

‘Why go elsewhere when Harry gives you all your drinks half off here?’ Tommy asked with cheer and social confidence that was so outside his usual performance that she almost sneered at him.

‘Half off is it?’ George asked, nodding at her with a chuckle. ‘All those drinks I’ve bought you n’all!’

Tommy chuckled. ‘She’s been having you on, Georgie.’

George only laughed, so it was obviously Nancy’s turn to speak. ‘Alright,’ she said, pushing a smile, ‘One or two here.’

‘Perfect, I’ll hang up me coat,’ George said and turned, and her eyes fell to the burn on the left shoulder.

Tommy gave her a knowing smirk and she smacked her hand across his chest.

‘Are you having some kind of episode?’ she questioned, and he attempted to hide his smile. ‘Stop it, Tommy. Haven’t you caused enough trouble? Just let me have one nice thing.’

She hadn’t expected the way that he flinched at her words, but he recovered so fast that it wasn’t worth apologising.

‘What we having then?’

__________

Tommy had long slunk off to the snug when Nancy and George finally left the Garrison. They only went a few roads over, to a little place she’d nipped in for one drink with Polly before. George made her laugh, like he always had done. He was an expert charmer, an expert joy maker.

There wasn’t even a moment to hesitate about it.

‘Miss Owen,’ a rough voice greeted as a warm drunk body passed them where they sat and Nancy looked up to see the butcher and another man leaving from where they’d been sat in the back corner.

She bid him a goodnight and looked at Georgie with a bashful smile. She’d felt unknown really until then, laughing and enjoying herself like she was someone else somewhere else.

George smiled at her, then leaned back as the butcher returned to the table, setting a gin down in front of her, saying as he patted her shoulder, ‘Give my best to Thomas, wont you?’

‘Always do,’ she replied, closing her eyes lightly once he’d gone, waiting for the moment to be over. She heard the door open and close again and looked at Georgie. ‘Sorry, can’t escape them no matter where I go.’

‘I thought I’d be a dead man honestly,’ he admitted, the words bursting out of him like he’d been holding them in all night. ‘I know you said it isn’t that way, but when he invited me round today. Jesus, Nancy, I was sweating bullets.’

Laughing at him, but completely understanding, she asked, ‘What did he want anyways?’

George shrugged a little, glancing away. ‘Wanted me to work for him. Not my scene, really. I’ve got a decent enough job without, well…’

Nancy smiled softly, shaking her head. He didn’t need to tell her, she knew. He looked relieved, and honestly, she felt it. Tommy had been telling the truth. He’d actually wanted to help him, not scare him off. She relaxed further into the evening.

‘He’s not going to break me knee caps if I keep you out too late is he?’

‘Can we please speak about anything other than Thomas Shelby?’ she quipped back, making him laugh fairly loudly.

‘Alright, alright. What’s your favourite colour?’

‘My favourite colour?’ she replied flatly, raising her brows. ‘You can ask me anything and that is what you’re going with?’

Grinning, he waved her off. ‘Alright, tell me how many times it will take me asking for you to be my girl?’

Horror struck her, but she laughed. ‘We’ve spent one evening together?’

‘Not true I’m afraid. I’ve shared many a drink with you now.’ George was still smiling at her, he’d never stopped. He still felt like a bit of a stranger to her, which was odd considering that he was right. She didn’t get hot around George like she did with the likes of Tommy and John. But she supposed that’s because he didn’t have the wild element, that twist to them that made them not quite like everyone else didn’t exist in Georgie.

It felt like it should have been a good thing.

And he was handsome, with dark curls and big brown eyes, gazing at her over the table, drinking her in.

‘A few more times, I suppose,’ she said with a soft smirk. She wanted to kiss him again actually. To be kissed just for kissing sake. ‘Shall we go?’ she asked abruptly and he frowned. ‘Together, I mean.’

‘Where to?’ he asked, and she flushed.

Suddenly it’s all she really cared about, that feeling she’d gotten last time. Being wanted, and wanting too. Horribly, John flashed into her mind. She needed new memories. Something real, with someone real, someone human.

George stood obediently as she rose and moved to get her coat for her, the pair slipping onto the dark streets and into the cold. ‘Where we off to then?’

‘If you could go anywhere, where would you go?’ Nancy asked him wistfully, breath visible in the winter air.

George seemed to hesitate a moment. ‘Probably London,’ he said unsurely, then repeated it more firmly, ‘Yeah, London.’

‘London? I meant right now, you nutter!’

They laughed, and he slung his arm around her shoulder. ‘Wherever you’re going, pet. I’m going to wherever you’re going.’

Nancy smirked at his bashful little smile and kissed his cheek, leading him into the night.

Chapter Text

George was easy, George was kind. He’d kiss her in the mornings, and when he walked her home. She knew he always wanted to, and that he wouldn’t push for more unless she let him know it was alright. He’d call her beautiful every day, or at least every time he saw her.

There was no guessing with George.

‘Georgie!’ Nancy heard Arthur call. She’d gotten used to it. He’d pick her up every Friday from the pub and walk her home after a drink or two. They’d eat together, sleep together, sometimes spend Saturday morning together.

Pushing out of the office, Nancy smiled tiredly.

‘There she is,’ Arthur said with a wink, patting George on the back and stepping around the bar. ‘What you drinking, Nancy-girl?’

‘I’m alright, Arthur,’ she said softly, shaking her head, but then saw Polly coming in. ‘Go on then, one gin.’

They’d been going to church together, but that was about it. And some weeks Polly didn’t show.

Things had reached a new normal, but it wasn’t a normal that felt comfortable. It felt like things weren’t how they were supposed to be. That they’d change soon. They’d have to. Dan haunted her around Birmingham, and she fought to pretend he really was just round the corner, or off on some errand for Tommy. It was easy some days, horrible others.

‘Well, well, if it isn’t Nancy Owen!’

Nancy grinned and wrapped her arms around Polly. It was ridiculous really, they lived so close. But she’d stopped going around to the shop so often, after what was perhaps the most awkward family dinner she’d ever experienced.

She’d tried, she really had. Esme was not keen on her and made it especially clear. John pretended she didn’t exist. Arthur was pissed, Tommy was late and then annoyed and then smirking at her. Karl kept crying, Polly shouted at the kids for treading in mud. At the end of the night, Tommy had walked her home.

‘Wasn’t as fun as I promised, was it?’ he asked with a cigarette between his lips, squinting at her in the dark of the street.

Nancy couldn’t really bring herself to answer. It was miserable.

‘Sorry.’

‘It’s not-’ she was going to say it wasn’t his fault, but really, in the grand scheme of things, it could have been far nicer without all of Tommy’s fiddling and controlling. ‘I’m just tired.’

‘Heard your evening out ended well,’ he said, clearing his throat at the end as if saying the words had made it tight. Whether it was the subject at hand or him admitting he had her followed even then, she didn’t know and didn’t ask.

‘He’s nice.’

‘I’d hope so.’

‘He wants me to be his girl.’

‘I’d think that’s about right,’ Tommy said, glancing at her side ways. ‘What do you want?’

‘I don’t know, Tommy,’ she sighed. ‘Just someone to be nice to me?’

‘Everyone’s nice to you,’ he replied flatly, rolling his eyes a little.

Frowning, Nancy shook her head. ‘John was my first everything, you know. Then the others after that.’

Tommy made a noise in the back of his throat.

‘Then John. But that wasn’t real – none of it. George is. He actually wants me for keeps, you know?’

Nodding, he touched her back lightly to lead her around the corner and onto her road.

‘It just feels nice.’

Tommy had hummed, and that had been the end of it.

Now that he was walking in the pub as she pulled away from Polly, she felt a desperate tug in her stomach. There hadn’t been any late night visits. Only brief meetings – business related. He’d still played, still teased. But it was a far cry from what they’d had before. She wondered if she’d imagined all those nights he’d creep into her room, him carrying her up the stairs. The kisses.

‘Afternoon, Tom,’ George greeted, shaking his hand, familiar but formal.

‘Thought we’d try catch Nance on her way out of work,’ Polly said, kissing George’s cheek. ‘Let’s all have a drink, ey?’

‘Aw, Pol, I’ve work tonight you know, night shift!’ George said, then gave Nancy a smirk. ‘S’pose two or three wont count, will it, pet?’

Nancy smiled, shaking her head as he grinned and turned to the bar to order. She glanced to Tommy, who was already looking. ‘Hey, Tom.’

‘Hey, love,’ he greeted with a soft smile, appraising her.

They took to the snug, and the drinks began to flow, Arthur joining them. George had gotten more comfortable around the brothers, or Arthur at least. Just as Nancy had gotten more comfortable around his friends too. She was a comfortable kind of person though, and so was Georgie. But George did it in a confident way, where as Nancy always felt like everyone was accommodating her, that she was a new branded adult who didn’t fully understand the conversations and dynamics around her.

She wondered sometimes if that was because she’d been fooled so many times. She felt so naïve to the world – like everyone knew something about it that she didn’t. That she was a merry fool.

‘Where’s Johnny then, busy with the missus?’ George asked and Arthur bellowed laughter.

‘Oh aye, they keep busy,’ he said with a wink and Polly rolled her eyes. Polly was, most certainly, not a fan of Esme. Though she was pleased the kids were clean and going to school.

‘Come on, Nance. Let’s powder our noses.’

With a chuckle, she joined Polly in making way to the toilets, where she immediately turned on her.

‘Have you fucked him yet?’

‘Polly!’ Nancy blushed, moving to the mirrors and checking her make up and her hair, a few whisps out of place.

‘I’ve seen you act more a couple with Arthur than with him, and Georgie is a flirt!’

‘He’s not – well, not the touchy type,’ Nancy stuttered out with a scrunch of her nose. ‘I mean, he is sometimes. He’s not all hot and heavy like – you know what I mean.’

‘Like John you mean,’ Polly said with a quirked brow, meeting her eye in the reflection.

‘Oh, please I’m not bothered about bloody John. He’s all I have to compare to.’

Polly looked at her heavily but said nothing, which made Nancy go practically purple. Pol rolled her eyes. ‘Come on, lippy on.’

She let Polly paint her lips red, and give her a lecture of how she was going to march in and sit on that mans knee and get him going. ‘He get’s going Polly. Honestly, he’s not always like this.’

‘You put your hand on him before and he practically flinched.’

Nancy returned her flat look and span back to the mirror for a final check before making her way back through the bar, only to find George coming out of the snug. ‘Where are you off to?’

‘I’m going to call it, Nance. You stay though, have a good drink with Polly. I know it’s been a while,’ he said with a smile, cheeks a little rosy from the drink. Nancy tried to grip his hand, but he only squeezed hers then let go with a grin. ‘Honestly, I don’t mind. Don’t you pout those lips at me.’

‘I can do other things with them,’ she murmured, smirking at him as he chuckled. His heart wasn’t in it though. ‘Have I done something?’

‘Of course not!’ George insisted, looking around them and pulling her off towards the door and onto a small table. ‘Just doesn’t feel right being all over you sometimes.’

‘Like when?’ she laughed. ‘I’m your girl, George. Aren’t I?’

His usual glow faded a little, but his eyes were kind even as he softly said, ‘Sometimes doesn’t feel like it, Nance. Feels like I’m over-stepping.’

‘Over-stepping who?’ she asked with a sneer, shaking her head.

George looked around them, leaning in and whispering, ‘You know you two stand close? He’s always watching ya. Makes me feel like I’ve got hands on another man’s property. Like there is a husband or a da near by breathing down me neck.’

Nancy was shaking her head still. ‘George, that’s not fair.’

‘I’m not angry at you, love. He’s a-’ he paused, looking around, that soft smile on his face. ‘He’s a powerful man. Obviously very protective of you. Just makes me take a step of two back while we’re around him, or the family. You know?’

Nancy was frowning, but George only smiled and stood. ‘Come on, kiss me goodbye or I will start to worry.’

She stepped around the table and kissed him square on the mouth, hands on his stomach, hoping he’d grip her and pull her in, but he only touched her lightly, stroked her cheek, and wished her a good evening.

Chewing her lip, arms wrapped around herself, she turned and headed for the bar, pausing when she met eyes with Tommy who stood in the doorway of the snug.

‘What’ll it be, Nance?’

‘Whiskey, Harry,’ Tommy’s low voice spoke from behind her. She could feel the heat of him and span to face him, their bodies brushing ever so lightly against one another. Tommy bent his neck to look down at her, eyes dropping to her lips. Ever so slowly, he swiped his tongue across the side of his thumb, then brushed it just below her lip, keeping his gaze on hers. ‘Lipstick.’

Nancy exhaled, leaning back on the bar, taking a deep breath in to try and gain back her courage from seconds before. He’d sucked it all out in a single motion. ‘Do you think we stand too close?’

His lips twitched, looking down between them and back up with an oh so soft smirk. ‘There’s room.’

She looked down too, at the couple of inches between their shoes, then flashed her eyes back to his. She heard vaguely the sound of Harry setting glasses and a bottle behind her, then Tommy leaned in. She took in a sharp breath, his arm reaching behind her, eyes fixed on hers.

Then he leaned back, drink in hand, smiling at her, all amused. ‘Come on.’

Polly had been caught on her way back by Darren, and Arthur had disappeared altogether as was his habit when left unattended too long. Finding themselves alone, Nancy hovered in the open space between the door and the table.

Tommy took his time sitting on the bench, then pouring their drinks, then lighting a cigarette, before he looked up at her. ‘Are you going to sit?’

‘Can I talk to you?’

‘Is it a conversation you want to have half cut?’ he asked genuinely, sighing a little.

‘Most definitely,’ she said and slipped onto the bench beside him, getting too close at first and slipping back a bit. ‘Do you not like George?’

Tommy actually chuckled, the sound bursting out of him in surprise. ‘What?’

‘You don’t act normal around him.’

‘Nancy,’ he said with a laugh, shaking his head. ‘I’ve known him most of my life. He’s just fine.’

She read him a moment, turned sideways in her seat, watching him closely. ‘You’re lying.’

Tommy gave a bored look. ‘Whatever you and your lover boy are arguing about isn’t my fault.’

‘It is though, because he said when he touches me around you, he feels like he’s got his hands on another mans property.’

His face smoothed, brows flickering slightly in admiration of the man. But he gave a light, teasing look. ‘He’s not wrong.’

Nancy would have usually slapped his chest, or sent him a glare. But she only watched him, watched his face drop to a serious expression. Her chest was burning with it all.

‘I don’t do anything around him. I’m respectful. He’s talking shit, Nance. His own insecurity.’

‘I don’t want you to be respectful,’ she sighed harshly. ‘I want you to be how you want to be.’

His head involuntarily shook, twisting his neck away from her. ‘How I want, ey?’

She’d barely heard him. She felt sick. What the bloody hell was she doing? She wasn’t even that drunk and here she was, saying, ‘Sometimes I think you’re looking at me a certain way, Tommy. And George thinks it too.’

‘I’ll stop looking then, shall I?’ he offered, facing her again, brows raised, eyes flittering over her face. ‘Keep Georgie boy happy?’

‘It’s not about him, Tommy. I just-’ Nancy cut herself off, sighing, putting her head back against the bench and looking at the wall. Then she laughed, covering her eyes. ‘Oh god.’

Tommy waited patiently, wanting her to carry on and to stop.

‘Sorry. I’m being mental – it’s everything.’

He scrunched his face, uncomfortable with her own discomfort. ‘You spent a lot of time waiting about for things to be fixed – Dan, London, Rosie and the kids - now you know they can’t be, you’re trying to find your way. Questioning everything. Trying for figure it all out.’

Sighing, Nancy nodded, meeting his gaze again. ‘I feel like I’m just floating around, trying to keep going, but I don’t know where. I feel like I could ask a hundred questions but I don’t know what they’d be.’

Tommy smiled, tilting his head at her. ‘Well, I’m here to help. Polly too, Arthur – might want to double check any answers and advice he’s giving you though.’

She chuckled and he smiled fondly at the sound.

‘Ada is probably smarter than all us put together, but her temper gets the best of her – though you’d probably be better letting yours out more often,’ he finished, lips twitching as he tried to lesson his smile, his eyes fixed on her grin. ‘When you think of those questions, my girl, you just ask. You’ve all the world to learn.’

Just like that, Tommy had made her feel better. But it was in that way he had where he made her forget what she’d originally started worrying about. She was getting better at seeing it though. Every argument they’d had had started about one thing and ended up with her feeling like she’d been silly to even be mad in the first place.

Not that this was an argument. But it was a curiosity to her.

Someone had actually spoken about them – them in the way that she forced herself not to think about. Every opportunity Tommy had had to act on any feelings or desires other than their haphazard friendship he’d denied. She’d thought that she was stupid, but Georgie wasn’t stupid. Georgie was older, wiser, and a fellow man. And he’d seen something, so much that it made him uncomfortable.

She finished her drink, and Polly re-joined them, asking, ‘Where’s Georgie gotten to?’

‘Work,’ Tommy answered, because Nancy was lighting a cigarette.

Polly did a performative sigh and shook her head at Nancy who glared, telling her with her eyes to shut-the-bloody-hell-up. Unfortunately, the attentions of Darren had wound Polly into her over-comfortable over-confident behaviour and she lit her own cigarette, saying through the smoke, ‘Insanity to have a girl like you and not be all over – especially after a few drinks!’

Tommy’s mouth was tightly pressed closed, fighting a grin. This time Nancy did slap his chest.

‘I’m not having this conversation,’ Nancy said and tried to stand but Tommy had set a hand firmly on her thigh.

Polly chuckled. ‘There you go, Tom. Should have shown Georgie how to do it.’

Nancy was a deep maroon colour, even though Tommy removed his hand once she’d sat firmly in her seat. She needed to leave, really, truly.

‘Has he spoken about marriage?’ Polly asked, squinting through one eye.

‘It’s been two weeks, Polly.’

But pretty soon, it had been two months, then three. Their routine had continued as normal, even more so than before in actuality. Because Nancy had been as careful as she possibly could be around Tommy when Georgie was around. Made sure there was a couple of feet between them, and that no matter how much he watched her, she kept her eyes on George.

She couldn’t bare the thought she’d made him feel inferior for something that was never going to happen – for something she hadn’t really realised she’d been doing at all. Sometimes though, when Tommy came into the office to see her or the likes, she’d forget for a moment.

He’d lean over her, pointing at something in the books, or writing something on the calendar, and she’d feel herself leaning in. Tommy’s hand would brush down her spine as they waited at the bar and she’d arch to it, receiving a low rough hum from him.

There was the drives too. The drives out that they’d always taken, off on errands, or just for the sake of it. If Georgie didn’t like it, he didn’t say. But he didn’t know how Tommy’s hand rested on the back of her neck as he drove, or how they’d laugh and play over breakfast out, how Tommy would sling an arm over her shoulders and she’d lean into his side without a word on it or a second thought.

Neither of them said anything about it – about any of it. Because it didn’t feel wrong or dirty. She knew not to do it around George though, lest he feel put out. Which she knew, deep down, was because it was wrong.

But she couldn’t give it up. Tommy, the relationship they had, their easy comfort with each other, was like a drug. She’d picked it up faster than she had the smoking, and needed it just as much.

Instead of coming into her room to check on her at night, he’d show up on Friday’s at the pub. He changed the day he got his hair cut too, to be one of the days she helped in the shop. And to the tailors? She went with him, as his assistant. He’d never needed one before, but there she was.

Matty, Frankie and Hank had become permanent fixtures too. They weren’t around when she was at the pub, or the shop. But after dark, they were there. Until morning. Georgie hadn’t noticed, or if he had, hadn’t mentioned it.

He was good like that. He was good in every way, really.

He made her laugh more than anyone had, and he started joining her in church, got her to visit Dan’s grave every week too. He’d say an affectionate, ‘Alright there, Danny,’ pat the grave, then take a walk around the graveyard until she was ready to leave.

He stayed over the nights he wasn’t working, almost all of them anyways. She’d cook for him, run his clothes to the laundry with Tommy’s too. Sometimes Arthur’s.

It was normal – almost. She’d found a new normal, something akin to a life. But it still didn’t feel right. There was something missing, something building too.

She had built up a sense to that kind of thing.

___________

‘I’ve got a job in London.’

Nancy looked across the table, still just in her slip, hair uncombed, make up free. ‘What?’

Georgie looked nervous, looked a little heartbroken too. ‘Got a job down in London. Been writing to a friend down there.’

It felt expected and so out of the blue. ‘What job?’

‘Oh, just labour. But it pays more down there. Says it will be a six month fix,’ he said as if he were telling her he’d been sleeping around behind her back. He swallowed, and she heard it. ‘I’m sorry, love. I can’t pass it up.’

Nancy opened her mouth, then closed it. ‘Okay.’

‘Okay? Like you’re gonna wait for me? Or okay then Georgie, we’re finished, fuck off?’ he asked with a sad chuckle.

Nancy smirked. ‘Not sure yet.’

Georgie covered a hand over his heart. ‘You’re not mad though? Not angry with me?’

Smiling softly, she shook her head. ‘You’ve got to do what you think is best, haven’t you?’

He smiled a little, looking nervous all over again. ‘See, I know the Shelby’s and Pol’ll kill me for even asking, but, you wouldn’t want to come with me would you?’

‘To London?’

Something, some hidden part of her lit up. London, after all this time. She’d only dreamt of London because of Dan. But even still it made her soul squirm with yearning.

Georgie nodded, looking gently hopeful.

‘I – well-’

A flash of Tommy turning to her from the driver’s side of the car, admiring her in that gentle way he did. His arm around her at the bar. His kiss atop her head on his way out the pub.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

‘I’ll have to see about work.’

George nodded. He knew what that meant. ‘Only six months, and if you aren’t happy I won’t keep you. I just want you to know that the offer is there.’

The offer hung over her all day, all that night, and all the way into Friday. She was so distracted by it that when Tommy came in she felt like she’d been doing something she absolutely shouldn’t have by even thinking about leaving. He only asked her a couple of questions, dropped of a few notes needing written up, then left again.

But it was enough for him to realise how she was acting, because that night, for the first time in months, there was a sinister knock on the shop door downstairs.

She had almost known it would be him. Georgie was on the night shift, and the boys never knocked, not once.

‘Evening,’ he said, taking his hat off as he moved passed her and through the shop, leaving Nancy to give a brief wave to Frankie over the road before locking up and following him up the stairs.

‘Everything okay?’

Tommy was looking around the flat. It looked different to the last he’d seen it. More lived in, more trinkets and decorations around. He looked at her, brow risen. ‘You were upset today.’

‘I wasn’t upset,’ Nancy insisted, sighing. She felt suddenly naked to him, realising it had been a long while since he’d been there, and since she’d stood in front of him in only her nightgown. He’d noticed too, because his eyes slowly pulled over her, by passing just a glance, becoming a physical thing that she could almost feel despite him being on the other side of the room to her.

He’d taken off his coat and slung it over the back of the armchair, leaning there then and waiting for her to give a different answer, one that he’d accept. She’d wrapped her arms around herself though, covering. He looked away. ‘Sorry. Would you like to…?’

She side stepped to the bathroom and plucked up her dressing gown, throwing it over her arms and loosely closing it around her. She’d never felt like that around him. But she was someone else’s now. It felt like a wrong thing even having him there. Or like something that should be wrong, but the real wrongness was the guilt that it didn’t feel wrong at all.

She stepped back into the room and Tommy was where she’d left him, waiting. He looked all knowing even then. She felt a little breathless. ‘Funny having you here, it’s been a long time.’

‘Doesn’t feel funny to me, Nance.’

Her lips tugged at the sides. ‘It’s just been a while.’

‘I’m not the man of this house,’ he said, looking around. ‘Hasn’t moved in yet though, has he?’

Nancy shook her head, biting her lip, and his eyes dropped to it. Her heart thundered.

‘Come here,’ he murmured, and she did, stepping into his arms and letting him hold her. ‘You tell me what’s wrong, ey, and I’ll fix it.’

‘Can’t fix everything, Tommy,’ Nancy told him, pulling back.

He was all serious. ‘Can break anything that’s upset you though.’

‘You upset me sometimes, you know,’ she said. She didn’t like the implication that Georgie would hurt her. She didn’t think he ever could even if he wanted to. Not like Tommy. Her chest tightened, and the next words tumbled out without much planning other than a vague idea of the need to see – to finally see if what was there was actually there or in her imagination. ‘Look like you’re going to kiss me too sometimes.’

Tommy’s expression was completely blank. ‘When’s that then?’

‘Even now,’ she said, stuttering over the truth of her words a little. ‘Most times.’

He looked away from her, jaw clenching, throat jumping.

She’d made a mistake. She’d cracked the glass box that existed around them. Thrown stones at it – and for what? To feel unwanted, rejection? To make him uncomfortable. For the earth shattering feeling of finally breaking the illusion, finally knowing just how stupid and naïve she was?

‘Nancy-’

‘Forget I said it. It’s just something Georgie said once. I’m a mess,’ she rushed out, rubbing her forehead. ‘He’s going to London, for work.’

‘London,’ Tommy repeated. ‘That’s what’s upset you?’

Nancy nodded, unable to look at him. ‘Not upset, just thrown me off.’

He was nodding. The air was so thick she felt like she couldn’t even breathe it in. ‘He’ll come back for you – be a fool not to.’

Nancy nodded, licking her lips. It was silent for a very long time, and she knew that he was staring but she couldn't look up. It was agony. He was letting her stew in the atmosphere she'd created, letting her really think about what she'd said. She inhaled sharply when he pushed to stand.

‘Sometimes,’ he sighed out, slipping into his coat, squinting as if in great thought, stepping over. He came to a stop in front of her, putting his hat on and looking down to meet her eye. ‘Sometimes I can barely stand being in the same room as you. Because of just how much I want to kiss you.’

She wanted to ask him why he didn’t then. He took everything else in the world that he wanted. Why not her? Why not?

‘But,’ he murmured low, gazing dropping heavily to her mouth, fingers at her chin. ‘It wouldn’t do you any good. Not now.’

‘Why not?’ she asked at it came out as a pathetic whisper.

‘You don’t have a clue about me. Not really.’

‘I know everything there is to know about you, Tommy.’

He released her chin, sighing a slow sigh. ‘Yet you don’t see the parts everyone else does.’

She opened her mouth to speak, but he took a side step, kissing her temple, and moved out of the room.

‘See you tomorrow, coming in around ten for my haircut.’

Nancy could have screamed down the stairs after him. She didn’t give a fuck about his hair cut. About tomorrow. About the barbers. About anything.

It was as if everything had built up to that moment, the moment she finally spoke it into being, that he did too - the moment she thought everything would change. But it hadn't.

He'd admitted it. He'd admitted it and everything should have been different. But she felt sick, and wrong, and rejected as if he'd sneered at her and told her the thought of kissing her was so ridiculous it had never even crossed his mind.

But it had - it had.

Chapter Text

There had only been two times that Nancy had sat Kenny down, pinned him down to a real serious talk. The first time was when she confessed about Dan, about his struggles, and in turn, her own. Then when she needed away from Watery Lane and asked to use the flat above the barber shop.

This time, they sat in the quiet before opening, hot cups swirling steam around them where she’d set them on the stool between the barber chairs. She’d told him everything – well, almost. She’d told him that Georgie was going to London the following Monday, and that he was the sweetest boy she’d ever known, but she didn’t know if that’s because all the others were so awful she had nothing decent to compare to.

Then she’d said how much she loved her work, and Birmingham of all things.

Then the Shelby’s, Polly, Kenny and Keith. Ada too – Ada especially. She’d become a staple part of her week, they all had.

‘You are a creature of habits, of routines,’ Kenny had agreed with a nod, then gestured with his biscuit for her to continue before he dipped it again, eyes glancing to the clock.

‘It’s only – there is someone. Someone I feel for,’ she explained, watching his grey haired hand on the cup, not caring about the heat of it, gripping it whole handed. ‘He’d be angry with me, I think, should I go. Or he’d not care at all? I can’t really tell. Sometimes I think that he thinks he cares more than he does. When I'm gone I might not matter so much?’

Kenny scrunched up his nose and gave her a darkened look of disapproval. ‘Now, Nancy. There’s not a decision in the world that you should make on the anger of a man. You do what is best for you.’

She licked her lips and stuttered her words a little, asking, ‘What if he could be what is best for me? I – I really like George. I think things could be swell with him, I really do. We get along so well. I just – this other person – it feels like something should have happened that hasn’t, that he won’t let happen, and if I go with George and take that path, it might never happen at all.’

Kenny rose a brow. ‘Just how long have you been waiting around for something to happen with this other fellow?’

She wasn’t sure really. It felt like there was a living thing between them – something real and breathing. And she couldn’t feed and fuel it from so far as London, so it would be left to starve. She said as much to Kenny.

He grunted. ‘Well sounds to me like this fella has took the animal out back and shot it, Nance. Nothing left for you to starve. If he hasn’t acted – has said too that he isn’t going to, then he’s the one with blood on his hands. Not you.’

Her heart panged a little and it must have shown on her face because Kenny softened.

‘George Tinnen didn’t hesitate did he – to make you his sweetheart? Why should you second guess that for someone who might never do it? No matter the fire in your belly for him, pet. If he’s burning for you, but not with you, then that's just hurting you both for nothing, love.’

Nancy opened her mouth and closed it again.

‘Take it from an old man alone, Nancy,’ he said, all low and rough. ‘I wasted myself, burning away for women that lit up rooms and kept me on my toes, but I missed a life time of love for it. I could have been married a few times over, married and settled. Now I’m lonely – burnt to a crisp. You know?’

Trying not to cry, because she knew that he was right really, she nodded, not daring to speak – barely daring to breathe.

Kenny smiled softly, tilting his head at her. He looked younger for a flash, warmer. ‘If you want that other fellow – really want him – you’ve got to make clear he’s got the one chance or you’re going.’

Nancy released a shaky breath, trembling really as she chuckled. ‘I think he knew that, Ken. I think he’s had enough chances.’

He’d had every chance. Every chance. He’d been in her bed, he’d held her, drove her, sat her on his knee. There had been a thousand chances every day.

Kenny gave her a soft smile, patting her knee and finishing off his tea while she wiped her cheeks, rolling her eyes at herself because she felt completely stupid.

‘Will you keep the flat for me?’ she asked softly.

He smirked, shaking his head. ‘You’re actually going to come back, you think?’

She was going to say of course, brush his ridiculous idea away. But she wasn’t sure. ‘Well – I’ve paid my rent in advance. So it’s mine until that runs out.’

‘Too right, Nancy my girl,’ he said with a wink, chucking her chin and moving to the door to lift the sign out. When he came back in, he put hands on his hips and nodded like it was all a job well done. ‘You write me, when you’ve made up your mind if you’re coming back or not, alright?’

She smiled, nodding, climbing out of the chair and moving to take the cups through to wash.

‘And don’t be telling that Thomas Shelby while he’s here – can’t be upsetting the customers.’

She forced a laugh but her chest tightened so sharply it was like there was a rope around her, tightening with every minute the clock ticked closer to ten.

She heard the bell ring but didn’t look up. She knew it was ten on the dot, and even more she knew that he was never late, not for her.

‘Morning, Kenny.’

‘Morning to you, Mr Shelby. How’s the day treating you?’

Nancy could feel his eyes on her, only her, looking her over, watching her face, waiting for her to look up. She took a breath and lifted her gaze.

‘Just fine, Ken. Yours?’

Kenny started on, moaning about his knees, shuffling things around, getting out his kit. But Nancy had moved around the desk, taking Tommy’s coat and his cap. He had folded it and put it in the pocket, safe away from curious gentle fingers.

‘Good morning,’ he said in a way that was soft but deep, coming straight from his chest. He said it like a worry, like a question of her mood with him.

‘Morning, Tom. Nice suit.’

His eyes minutely squinted, but she’d already span away and made for hanging up his coat. Tommy took to the chair and let Kenny carry on his chatter, watching in the mirror as Nancy moved around the desk and took her seat again.

She was doing that thing, where she could barely look at him, and it tortured him until it was time to leave again.

He set the money on the desk and took his coat from her, slipping into it and fixing the collar as he said, ‘I’m taking your assistant for a drive, Ken. You don’t mind do you?’

‘Not at all, Mr Shelby!’ Kenny called through as he came with the brush. ‘Fetch her back when you’re finished with her.’

Tommy chuckled and looked at Nancy with smug expectance.

‘Actually I only have time for a walk,’ she countered and Tommy thinned his eyes at her. ‘That alright, Mr Shelby?’

‘Of course, Miss Owen. I’ll wait for you outside while you get your coat.’

Filling her lungs, Nancy did as she’d been subtly ordered, squeezing her hands tightly as she did and releasing them again, getting blood pumping to anywhere other than her head and her heart - where she felt like there was too much all at once and it might burst from over working.

As soon as she was beside him on the street, Tommy set off walking, looking ahead. ‘River?’

Nancy nodded. She was too busy thinking about what she was going to say to be able to make any kind of small talk, and Tommy accepted that and allowed her the silence.

With the river in sight, he parted his lips, making the most minute sound, almost nothing at all, but enough to signal the start of their conversation.

‘I’m going to go to London with George. If there is any work there I can do for you, I can. But I understand that is a bit of a stretch. I can find work while I’m there,’ Nancy said, more calmly than she’d expected herself to be able to.

Tommy had taken in a breath, slow but big, filling his whole chest. Then he let it out in the sound of a large groan, as if he were absolutely exhausted with her. Stopping and turning, he asked, ‘Did that little shit ask you to go? I’ll fucking-’

‘No,’ she lied quickly, firmly. Not to defend George, but because she hated that he’d never just blame her for something. It was always that someone else was influencing her in some way. She could never just have made a decision on her own. ‘No, I asked him if I could. He tried to put me off, in fact.’

Tommy’s jaw clenched and he looked down. ‘Right.’

‘You could look at me, Tommy.’

His eyes sharply snapped to her, but his voice was as calm as he could keep it, rougher around the edges but still his. He was still in control. ‘Why, because you’re leaving? Should soak up as much as you as I can before you go?’

She grimaced. ‘Don’t be cruel, please. I’ve given you every opportunity to be everything else but.’

Her words made him squirm a little, wringing his hands a little at his sides, his lips twitching.

‘It’s six months, Tommy.’

‘What do you want to go to London for anyways? There is nothing for you there,’ he said, struggling to keep his face composed.

But Nancy frowned. ‘Well… there is George?’

He scoffed, rolling his eyes before he could stop himself.

‘Well, if he’s not a good enough reason to leave, then you give me a good enough one to stay, Tommy.’

He looked like he might grab her then, and she thought that he would. That all moments had lead to this one. It felt like that moment – that magic moment it would all be fixed. She’d stay, George would go, fondly, understanding. She’d stay and Tommy would be the reason. The real reason too – a real, living, breathing reason. The thing between them would grow and live and flourish - it would breathe and bleed and feel the warmth of the sun and the cold of the winter and be held by them all the way.

But Tommy always carried a gun.

He shook his head, looking to the water. ‘You want to go, you should.’

Two beats of silence. Two shots echoing in her imagination, her heart thumping twice hard, jolting her.

‘I will – I’ll go and I'll come back,’ she said, trying to promise but it sounded empty. She felt empty.

He forced a little smile, but his nose wrinkled in distaste at the same time, spoiling the illusion. ‘You go and do what you need to do.’

Nancy froze when he looked back to her, slow blinking, as if he couldn’t bare to look at her. All the time she’d ever known him he’d stared, but right then it was as if it burned him to. ‘You’re not going to do anything, are you?’

‘Like what? To Georgie?’ he asked with insult, but her eyes were starting to glaze. ‘I won’t touch him. Not yet.’

‘What about to me? You’re not going to do anything, are you?’ she asked – begged – prayed. She wanted a clean cut. ‘You’re not going to make me stay?’

If he could tell that she wanted him to, that she wanted nothing more than for him to give in and grab her and kiss her and tell her that she was staying – that he’d drag her back to Watery Lane and lock her up if she tried to leave, he didn’t show it.

‘No, Nancy. I’m not going to make you stay,’ he sighed, rubbing his forehead. ‘I’m going to let you go – and wait for you to come back.’

‘You’ll keep my job for me?’ she asked. But it came out all high pitched.

Who knows what London would hold for her? What life ahead she had? After Dan left, she thought she’d never find life again, then after he died, then after Watery Lane, after John, after every small chapter, she’d found it. It kept going. The pages were never ending, ever hidden to her until she fell onto one, tumbling across the words and learning to walk along them. Then the page would be pulled from under her and she’d fall again, only to find her feet. London could be the next major part of her story.

‘Course,’ he confirmed. He was locking up. She’d not get many words out of him now. He was done. He needed to go off and think – or, more likely, plot.

__________

Tommy came along, with Polly and Arthur to wish her farewell. Finn too, who clung on so tight it made her well up.

Ada had a farewell drink with her the night before round her and Freddie’s, and said their dream was London, that they’d probably meet her there. Freddie was good company, warm, joyous really. She’d cried when she left them, and Ada had cried too. But she had Freddie to hold her, and Nancy found, when she got back to the barbers and saw the silhouette awaiting her by the door, that she had Georgie too.

He’d held up a hand out of the car, waving to the Shelby’s, but not getting out. Arthur had loaded her bags, then clung onto her, kissing her forehead.

‘I love you, Nancy-girl. My sister, yeah? In all but blood.’

‘I love you too, Arthur. Take care, okay?’ she said between kisses to his cheeks, holding his face, looking into his eyes. ‘I’ll be back to make sure you’ve been good.’

Arthur winked, kissing the tip of her nose, in an act so ludicrous it made them both laugh. ‘Guarantee I’ll be good – and when I’m not, I’ll think of your sweet face giving me that disappointed frown and I’ll feel bad for it.’

Nancy chuckled and moved to Pol. Less needed said between them really. They knew each other, their souls. Polly only tutted at their tears and held her in, breathing out a sigh of love.

‘You look after yourself, darling.’

‘You too, Pol. I’ll see you soon – I promise. Six months, not a day more.’

‘Not a day less either, I hope,’ she said in light warning. She’d told Nancy privately to make the most of it. That if this was the only chance she had to get out of Birmingham, even if she had to come back again, that she had to make the most of it.

Nancy whispered a ‘love you’ and pulled away, taking a deep breath in and looking to Tommy with a soft smile. ‘Mr Shelby.’

‘Miss Owen,’ he said, looking at the shoulder of her coat rather than her.

But she waited. She could wait.

Tommy looked to her after a stretch of time and seemed to melt, his expression loosening, as if his chest had opened and his soul had filled the space around them. It was warm, and loving, and yearning.

‘Come ere,’ he sighed, and took her in his arms. Holding tighter and tighter. At the point when she’d usually pull away, he held tighter still, her arms around his neck and his arms around her waist. Her feet lifted off the ground, his breath heavy in her ear.

‘I love you, Thomas Shelby,’ she whispered, and it killed her. ‘I will come back.’

‘My girl,’ he murmured, breathing her in a final time before setting her down. ‘I love you,’ he said firmly, squeezing her waist as he pulled her away. ‘You stay safe. No silly mistakes.’

‘No potting any windows,’ Polly said with a light smirk, but at the same time she touched Tommy’s arm in comfort, the same way she had when Danny had died. ‘She’ll be alright.’

‘I’ll be alright,’ Nancy repeated, giving Arthur a final smile, and Polly, and Tommy. The redness had started to rim his eyes a little, the blue looking stark against the white of his eyes. His hands flexed at his sides.

But Nancy, in her most strong, most resilient move yet, only pressed her lips together and turned to the car, making her way for the door.

But Tommy’s hand slipped around her wrist, tugging her back, twisting her into his chest. He leant down and pressed his lips so firmly to her forehead that she thought it might bruise, then released her just as fast, opening the car door and taking a breath as she relied on sheer muscle memory and climbed inside.

The kiss had been from the side of him that was panicking for her – the Tommy that had her followed because he worried for her, that glared at the scar on her finger every time he remembered it, the Tommy that first saw her bruises and was appalled by them.

She’d been under his protection, all this time. He’d barely survived giving up checking on her each night, a vice he’d grown too used to. At least whilst she was still in Birmingham he had the boys, he could ask them every morning if all was well – and he did.

It was too far fetched to send someone to London to watch over her, and ask them to report back. Especially now she’d gone with another man.

It wouldn’t stop him having word on her though. But less so than he was used to – less so than he wanted.

Tommy’s chest hurt like he’d been shot, and Polly’s hand on his arm, Arthur’s on the back of his neck, squeezing, kept him anchored to the ground.

‘She’ll be right, Tom,’ Arthur mumbled. Arthur, who barely noticed anything or was ever able to read a room. He could read the look on his brother's face though. ‘She’ll be back – has to be. She’s ours. She’s a Shelby.’

Polly watched Tommy twinge in agony and stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his and finding his hand to grip.

Nancy sighed out as the car began to rumble, pretending that they weren’t still standing there, fiddling with her skirt, her hair.

‘Ready?’ Georgie asked, softly but with excitement, disbelief really that she’d actually gotten in the car.

Nancy looked up to him, grinning, in disbelief herself.

She swiftly frowned at the sight of him, the blackened bruises under one eye, all the way down his jaw, his lip spilt too. Her head snapped to the window, looking out to meet Tommy’s eye just as the car began to move away.

She’d have shouted something at him, if she wasn’t so shaken by the harrowing, haunted look on his face that she could barely speak.

‘Tommy?’ she managed to mumble, turning back to George once she'd found her voice someone far in the back of her throat.

‘Wasn’t pleased I was taking you, I should think,’ Georgie said, but smirked as she looked over him in horror. ‘Didn’t do it himself, mind. Did warn me if you weren’t back in Birmingham in six months from today that I’d be without me legs – maybe a few fingers too.’

‘Oh, George I am so sorry,’ Nancy gasped, all the trauma of the farewell blown out of her. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Risk of the business,’ he said with a chuckle, shaking his head at her astonishment.

Her stomach clenched at the word. Business, as she knew it, was a vile and violent thing - something that meant trouble. Something that meant Shelby. ‘What business?’

‘Stealing pretty girls from their families?’

Nancy rolled her eyes at him, her brow still lifted in worry, but settled. It didn’t seem to matter really, maybe because Georgie didn’t seem to mind.

They were leaving. None of it mattered now, at least not for now.

And when they rolled into London, finding their little rented flat on the outskirts of Camden Town, Birmingham felt so small to them it was hard to compare it.

All the world was around her, she was standing right in the middle of it. She just had to learn it, find her place in it.

If that meant going back, she would. But just for a little while, she'd stay. It felt right to stay.

Chapter Text

Nancy had found the markets, the grocer, the butcher. It was very quick that she fell into domestic life. It was, after all, what she was used to. The cooking, the cleaning. She’d always done it. For Dan and her dad, then just Da, then a helping hand for Rosie. Then Polly.

She was like a regular housewife, with Georgie leaving early and coming home late, sometimes having to go back out again but always with a smile and a kiss. Only she wasn’t a wife, and people were calling her ‘Mrs Owen’, and she let them.

By people, it was only the people she bought goods from. She hadn’t met anyone else, but it had only been two weeks, almost three.

They’d been to the pub one night, had a laugh. But it wasn’t like home. Wasn’t like knowing everyone there, and Georgie seemed nervous. In Birmingham he always seemed comfortable and content, but London was something all new to both of them.

There was something a little fun about figuring it out together, without her being the one at a loss because of her age or her innocence.

When she wasn’t busy in the flat, she explored. She imagined Dan walking the same streets, noticing the things that he might take interest in that she never would, trying to see it through his eyes. It wasn’t much use, but it gave her something to do, and made her feel a little less lonely.

Nancy, by nature, was a positive creature. She saw the big scary city as a world to explore, and every dark corner just a place she hadn’t seen yet. There were plenty of dark corners in Birmingham, and most were a lot lighter when you got close enough.

She wasn’t totally naïve though. She never went out after dark, and when George left she locked the door. It wouldn’t do much good if anyone really wanted to get in, but it made her feel better.

She was wary of people. She hadn’t realised how comfortable she was at home, even when she saw a new face, she was on home turf. She felt like every woman scorned her, every man wanted to hurt her. It was silly, really, and she knew as much and tried to fight it off. Walking down the busy unfamiliar streets frightened her, but she did it anyways, because she knew that she had to, and that she’d never know London if she hid from it.

It was around lunch time, and she was taking herself home with her shopping, missing the days when Finn and his friends would be desperate to carry her bags for her. She dropped them on the small table in the kitchen and sighed in relief, tucking her hair behind her ears and plucking up the advert she’d pulled off a notice board.

‘HELP WANTED – Seamstress’

She scrunched her nose up at the address, having never heard of it before and moved through to the living room. There was an odd smell, that she only half registered before her eyes fell on the man stood by the window.

Nancy sucked in a breath, a small yelp of a sound coming from the back of her throat.

He turned, taking off his hat, face scrunched a little but calm, casual, as if he’d stopped round for tea. ‘Ello, love. Now now, no need to panic.’

Nancy could only gaze, wide eyed and terrified. There were knives on the counter, somewhere just behind her, back in the kitchen. But this man was stocky, strong. Like a worker. But not dressed like one.

‘Mrs Owen, is it? Sit down, love, sit down, go on,’ he insisted, ushering towards a chair, but Nancy didn’t move. He sniffed and sighed, hands raised to show that they were empty. ‘Not gonna hurt you, love. Not yet. I’ve just a few things I need to know. See, I’d not usually partake to a home visit, but on this occasion I was told there would only be a woman home – only be you at home, you see.’

She felt her stomach tensing and turning, despite the familiar and comfortable way that the man was speaking. If she was in Birmingham, she’d scream. Someone would come. Someone would be listening for her. But here? This was his turf.

‘Sometimes the boys, they don’t know how to treat a woman, don’t know how to behave,’ he explained, tutting and scrunching his nose like it was a great pity, and at the same time taking slow swaggering steps towards her, his hands still out, palms facing the ceiling. ‘So I thought – best come see you me'self. As well, you see, my lovely, that I’m just so bloody sick of seeing your fella, your husband, slinking around my business. Sick of his face, love. You know?’

Nancy was shaking her head, taking a step back into the kitchen. He glanced at her feet but just as fast his eyes were back on her face, reading her reactions to him. In a voice she wished was stronger, she said, ‘I don’t know what he does – I’m always here. Always – everyday. George is-’

‘George then, is it? George Owen. Where from then, ey?’ he asked, voice lower as he neared her. Then those palms were on her, on the sides of her face, on her neck, holding her still as he leaned in and inspected her. She could see the anger in him then, the madness. He growled out, ‘Because you sound an awful lot like a Brummy to me. Awful lot.’

Nancy’s back was against the counter, and her hands were free, one braced behind her to stop her spine bashing against the wood when he rammed her against it and the other still stupidly gripping the notice about the seamstress job.

The hand behind her made way for the knives as she gasped out in distraction, ‘He told me he was working with his cousin – that’s all I know. Labouring.’

‘Well he’s a liar as well as a sneak then, isn’t he,’ he told her, his hot rum-scented breath on her cheek. He pulled back a little, turning her head in his hands, about to speak, but then he saw her finger tips just brush against the handle of a knife in the block behind her. Before she knew it, before she could catch her breath, the blade was against her cheek and he was looking at the shine. ‘See, I wasn't going to hurt you, was I. I've been calm, calmer than a man would be considering the circumstances. Rude of you, Mrs Owen. This knife new?’

‘We just got here – everything is new,’ she gasped, trying to tug back but he had her in a tight hold.

His eyes were on her face though. ‘My eye sight isn’t too sharp, but sharp enough to see the markings of a few beatings on you. Split lips, once or twice, a little scar in the brow. Can’t imagine they came from that grinning fool – that George, was it?’

‘My brother used to hit me when we were kids.’ Half a truth, that was the best way to lie. Even if it made her feel sick. Dan would understand. He would.

‘Nah – fresher than that,’ he said, leaning in closer. ‘Who are you hiding from?’

'No – no one. I swear, I don’t know anything.’

‘What about my name, ey? What’s my name?’ he asked, setting the blade at the corner of her mouth, the tip just touching against her tooth.

‘I don’t know,’ Nancy gasped, and he watched the tears trail her cheeks.

‘I’m Alfie. Alfie Solomons. I’m going to cut you now – no, no, don’t struggle. I’m going to cut you as a warning to that silly little git of a husband of yours. Give you a grin like his. Just one side though – just one side. No, stay still, or it will cut all jagged, see, and they’ll never stitch it up clean. The less you move, the better it’ll heal, yeah? If I see him again, I’ll cut the other side, right to your ear, right open, yeah? And then I’ll shoot your fella’s cock off, stop him breeding any more grinning idiots that think it’s alright to follow me around my town, yeah?’

The pain was blinding, deafening.

___________

‘Hospital, yeah? Here, Mrs Owen, I’m putting some money for a lift home in your hand bag here, money for the stitches too. See, not all bad, not all bad. You tell George hello from me, will you?’

Alfie was chattering away still, his hands on her, guiding her to sit inside a car, almost caring. If was all muffled to her.

‘You keep that towel squeezed, don’t pass out, that’s the trick. They’ll fix you right up. Don’t mention my name though, will you?’

Nancy had it in her, from her crumpled up form in the back seat of the car, to meet his eye. His voice had been gentle, but his expression was of stark anger, even through her blurred vision.

‘Because I’ll kill you, and your husband. Yeah? See you later, love, off you go now.’

The car pulled out and Nancy closed her eyes. She wondered if she’d blacked out. Every time she tried to recall what had happened her mind turned her around, as if willing her not to think about it.

It was a blur, all of it.

She spent the night in the hospital, drugged and sleeping, still half gone on the pain killers that they’d send her home with. Well, she’d demanded to leave. She couldn’t really remember. They’d said something about the police. She knew Birmingham police, but she didn’t know London.

All she knew was that her face was cut open, from the corner of her mouth, a few inches to the centre of her cheek, and she’d do anything to avoid the man who had done it to her.

She could remember him saying something, something terrible and true. She knew violence. She’d always know it.

George rushed through the flat to see her arrive. ‘Bloody hell, Nancy. Gave me the fright of my life, where-’

Nancy felt herself welling up, though her eyes and her heart were angered. She stepped through to the living room, taking a seat and waiting for Georgie. He sat on the arm chair, looking at the bandage with worry.

He whispered, ‘What’s happened, Nancy?’

She wanted to scream at him, she really did. But she couldn’t. She could barely open her mouth to speak. Her words were half sounded, but she spoke them, ‘Why have you been following Solomons?’

George froze. ‘What?’

Her face was beginning to twitch and tremble at the warning of tears, so she closed her eyes and reached up to gently remove the bandage. She couldn’t look at him. ‘He did this to me – to warn you off him. Why.’

He came onto his knees beside her, looking at it with pain in his eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you here – I shouldn’t have asked. He told me not to and I did anyways.’

‘Who did?’ she asked, but in the hollow of her chest the name was already echoing – always was, really. Tommy, Tommy, Tommy.

‘Tommy, Nance. Oh god. I was supposed to shadow Solomons, learn about him, you know. Not get too close. I fucked it, didn’t I. I knew he’d started to clock on. I’m not made for this kind of thing.’

He was crying, and looked ashamed, but Nancy couldn’t see passed the anger. She was still in shock, terrible, horrible, trembling, shock.

‘Tell me everything. Right now.’

George wiped his eyes, but nodded. ‘Tommy offered me work, that first time I saw you round the shop. I said I’d think about it. Then I got to talking with him one night, one night in the pub. I wanted to buy you a ring. Didn’t have the money, so he offered again. Six months, clean cut. Half pay before, half pay after. Good money. All I had to do was follow him, report back. Oh God, Nancy. Then when he found out you were coming, well, he was livid. But the money, it was enough to set up here. I just thought, if you came with me, you wouldn’t have to go back. The other half of the money wouldn’t matter, not Tommy being pissed at me either. We’d just go set up somewhere else, you know? Oh God.’

Eyes closed, wishing he’d stop, but needing to know, Nancy listened. Because of the stiches, and the pain, she could barely move her face. Her usually open expression was gone, a blank mask in it's place.

‘He never meant you to come – I never meant you to get hurt neither. I should have listened to him.’

‘You shouldn’t have worked for him in the first place. You said you wouldn’t.’

‘I know – I know. It just got planted in my head, after that first time he invited me round. More money that I’d ever known, Nancy. I wanted it for us-’

She took in a sharp breath and blew it out again, squaring her shoulders, looking at his hands rather than his face because she couldn’t bare to see the look on it. ‘My things are ready. I’d like you to take me home. Then I’d like to not see you again.’

George opened his mouth to protest, but he looked at the bloodied bandage, then the stiches, sticking out of her face, deforming her soft beauty. ‘Alright, Nancy. I can do that,’ he agreed, low and promising. Clearing his throat, wiping his eyes again and rising, he said, ‘I’ll get your things in the car.’

She didn’t look at him again, not until she had to, just a final time. They still hadn’t said that they loved each other. It just hadn’t happened for them. Wouldn’t happen.

She knew deep down that George had been seduced the way that she was – that he’d made a wrong choice in lying, but she understood why. She didn’t even hold it against him. She just couldn’t be with him. Couldn’t be in London either, not with him or without him.

It was the middle of the night when they reached Birmingham, and Nancy had slept the whole way, and the parts she wasn’t sleeping for, she pretended to be so that she didn’t have to speak. Only as they rolled into town did she say, ‘Just drop me at the barbers and go again. Don’t let anyone see you or the car.’

Georgie did as he was asked, and didn’t try to stop her. He was quietly crying though, and whispered, ‘Am so sorry, Nancy.’

But she didn’t look back. Just unlocked the doors to the shop and closed the door behind her, making sure to leave no trace as she went up to the flat.

She managed two days, rotting in her bed, lying in the bath, topping it up when the water went cold, and only eating what food she’d taken from the flat in London. It was so hard to eat she barely did anyways.

Looking in the mirror was worse.

On the third day she grew restless and almost left the flat, but forced herself to stay. She wasn’t ready yet, not yet.

But that night it rained, hard, and the thing she hadn’t been afraid of in so long was haunting her again.

Panic threatened to end her really, her chest so tight that her thundering heart hurt to beat as she sat against the wall below the living room window, eyes on the door. She didn’t dare turn lights on either, once it got dark. She didn’t want anyone knowing she was here until she wanted them to know.

But that night, it all became too much. She’d festered, boiled, transformed, into a burning pit of rage and want and fear.

Throwing on her coat, slipping on her shoes, she left in the night, for once not running to Tommy - but marching.

She still had her key, and with wet and freezing fingers she opened the door to Watery Lane and stepped in, closing it, closing out the sound of the rushing rain. She heard Tommy though, his feet on the stairs, and looked up to see him at the top of them, gun in his shaking hands, pointing right at her.

He was panting, looking over her in both relief and shock. He grunted her name between breaths, not seeing her clearly besides that she was there – in Birmingham – in the house - and dripping wet.

She leaned back against the door. She was relieved herself. So relieved. Had she felt safe a single moment since she’d left? Was it Birmingham that made her feel it? Or was it him?

She knew the answer, and she loathed and loved it too.

‘What’s happened?’ he asked. He’s lowered the gun, and set it down on the arm of the sofa as he slowly bypassed it, moving to her with caution. ‘Love?’

‘Sometimes,’ she half whispered – half panted. ‘Sometimes or most times, Tommy?’

He was squinting at her, moving forward until he reached her, his eyes wide with worry. Her hair was sticking to her face, obscuring his view, but something looked wrong. She sounded wrong too. Muffled to him somehow. ‘What?’

‘Sometimes or most times you can’t stand to be in the same room as me?’ she asked, feeling his fingers touch at her temples and around her face, smoothing the wet hair away.

Frozen.

Tommy stiffened sharply and reached for the light switch, slamming his hand against it, keeping his other had free, cupping her jaw, keeping her there.

She couldn’t look away from his eyes though. She needed the truth. The full truth.

Tommy looked at the damage to her face, fingers dancing over it but not touching, as if he were looking at ink spilled on important papers or a work of art. Fire on a bookcase. Happening, unable to be stopped. Blackness soaking into white. ‘Nancy-’

‘Tommy,’ she demanded in a breath and his frightened gaze finally lifted back to hers.

Tommy swallowed, hands spreading up into her roots, thumbs at the sides of her jaw. ‘Every time. Every time.’

Her knees sank beneath her and she pressed herself firmly against the door, Tommy stepping into her further, scanning rapidly from her eyes to her stitches as if he could read the story of it from her skin.

‘Who has done this?’ he begged. ‘Who?’

‘You did, Tommy.’

His face crumbled, leaning his forehead to hers, letting out the breath of a sob. ‘You’re beautiful. Beautiful.’

Her own tears slipped down her face, over and onto his hands where he held her.

‘You’re not leaving again. You’re with me always. Always. That’s the last time you go.’

Her nod was barely more than her forehead rubbing against his, her nose brushing against his, but he felt it. A great breath left him, wobbling and head shaking.

Tommy hovered a moment, seeming to still, his breath coming heavier. Then, agonisingly, his face lowered to hers, the tip of his nose against the side of hers, guiding him to her mouth.

A few hot breaths met between them. His hands in her hair were hot, red hot, clinging to her and caressing her.

‘I – I can’t, Nancy.’

She shook her head against him, opening her eyes to his. ‘Almost always there, aren’t we, Tom? Almost an almost. Everything and nothing at the same time.’

‘No,’ he spoke, ‘No. You’re everything, always. Every time, my girl. Always mine.’

‘Then kiss me,’ she whispered and his eyes closed again.

‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘Then – be gentle.’

Tommy looked at her, all want, all fear, all love.

His kissed her, not in the way he wanted to, not in the way either of them imagined or needed it to be. But the best he could, on the side not marred.

It wasn’t enough, but nothing ever would be, so it didn’t matter. She drank down the pain, of both her stitches and of how swiftly he pulled back.

‘We’re going to go to bed,’ he murmured, only just a breath of space between them. ‘We’re going to get you changed and go to bed.’

‘Okay, Tommy.’

‘Then in the morning you are going to tell me what happened,’ he said, voice hitching a little with a softest touch to the very edge of her wound. ‘Okay?’

‘Okay, Tommy.’

He sighed, wrapping his arms around her shoulders despite the dampness of her hair and her coat. Her lips burned, her body like ice from the weather.

‘Come on,’ he said, finally leaning back, but he caught the look in her eye. Burning desire, desperation. ‘Does it hurt?’

‘Do you have whiskey?’

The tiniest hint of amusement flickered in his eyes, like a star shooting across the darkness, and he moved to pour her a glass, watching closely as she fitted it carefully against her lips to pour the liquid back.

‘You need out of those wet clothes,’ he said tightly. ‘When was the last you had those checked?’

A hand covered her cheek. ‘Only got them in five – six days ago?’

‘Straight after?’ he asked, jaw squaring when she nodded. ‘Good. That’s good.’

Lowering her hand, because he was still staring there despite her covering it, she asked softly, ‘You’re not going to kiss me again, are you?’

Tommy rose his brows, like a disapproving adult. ‘No, Nancy. I’m not. Not until you’re better.’

He gestured for her to go on up the stairs, and once she’d passed him his was behind her, following her up to the landing, gripping her wrist tightly when she made to move down to her old room. ‘Where are you going to?’

His voice was a low rumble, hot against her ear.

‘I said you’re with me – my girl.’ The hand hold her wrist slipped to her hip, squeezing. ‘Once you’re all healed, I’ll show you what that means, yeah?’

He pushed her lightly into the room, his body against hers, and inside, he kept hands on her as she undressed.

Slipping a clean cotton shirt over her head and laying her down beside him.

Holding her, not wanting to sleep in case the world took this from him too, in case his moments like this were limited as they had been before. Because he still didn’t know the story. Because she was his now, truly and honestly, and that was even worse than before.

All the restrictions he’d put on himself, not dragging her back from London, not demanding she stay at Watery Lane, not having her walked from place to place, not killing every man that looked at her or touched her. He’d told himself he couldn’t because she wasn’t his, not really, not in the way the world judged it.

But there was nothing stopping him now. No way to talk himself out of it.

He was terrified, and murderous. But she was soft, and in his hands.

His girl – his.

Chapter Text

‘Tommy.’

Nancy’s face ached. Her head ached. Her whole body, actually.

‘Tommy, come on,’ John’s voice came through the door, low but firm. ‘Polly’s having a mare downstairs. Arthur’s doing my fucking head in.’

Wincing, she cracked her eyes open a little, grimacing at how stiff she was, cramped in Tommy’s single bed, both having slept so solidly that neither had moved an inch. She touched her stitches, as she did every morning, making sure they haven’t snapped or opened in her sleep, which was silly really, because the flesh seemed to have fused back together in the centre in a way she never imagined possible.

The ache in her heart was turning into a hot thudding at the memory of the night before, of what the day ahead had to bring.

‘Tommy,’ John’s voice came again, softer. ‘I know you’ve been smoking the stuff, alright? I know it’s hard – bloody hard losing her. I know it better than anyone. I’m a dickhead, and I’ve had to learn to live with it. You need to get out of bed, Tom. We bloody need you. And if you don’t come down soon I’m gonna shoot Arthur, I swear it, Tom. Right in the middle of the shop.’

Nancy twisted her neck a little, looking up, seeing Tommy’s sunken eyes still closed, still peaceful.

Filling her lungs with air, she slipped from the bed and moved to the door, hand on the handle, the other against it, opening as carefully as she could. It cracked and creaked a little, but Tommy stayed sleeping.

Nancy kept her head down as she slipped out of the bedroom and into the hallway, ever so softly closing the door again. Then she looked up, and John took in a sharp breath through his teeth.

‘Nancy?’

She gestured to her old room, and he followed, squeezing his eyes closed a moment to attempt to crush his emotions. She was inside, sitting on the bed, looking small.

Closing the door, he turned and joined her, unable to look away. ‘When did you get back?’

‘Last night – this morning?’ she whispered, rubbing her eyes, and supressing a yawn. ‘I haven’t told Tommy everything yet, so I can’t tell you.’

He nodded, but frowned. He was doing well to hold back, squeezing his fists. There was a disconnect between them, but one that was so trampled over by time and distance, it felt like it had been dusted over. ‘That’s fair, yeah.’

Nancy took in a big breath and finally looked at him. ‘How are the kids, and Esme?’

John gave a half smile, grateful to her. ‘They’re little shits still. Esme is alright. Think she’s sick of me already.’

‘Can’t imagine that feeling,’ she teased lightly with a small smile tugging at her good side.

He chuckled, but winced, nodding to her face. ‘Can you feel it?’

‘They said it might not move properly again, but that it might too. Hard to tell. Just have to wait and see. I can feel it though – it bloody butches.’

John smiled again, in his lopsided way, the tension melting away every time she spoke. ‘You’re staying here now then? Birmingham?’

Nancy nodded, scrunching her nose a little. She was a bit out of it. It felt like she’d never left. Like the new scar was something she’d picked up from a nightmare she’d since woken from and half forgotten.

John licked his lips. ‘Was it his fault?’

She frowned as his head gestured back towards the wall, his voice so quiet she could barely hear him, let alone anyone listening in. ‘A little. Isn’t everything? The good and the bad?’

He held her gaze a moment, like he used to, and remembered how it used to warm him. ‘Always were clever weren’t you, princess.’

A breath of laughter blew out her nose, her lips half twisting in a smirk as she shook her head. ‘I’m glad you’re happy, John.’

‘Something like it,’ he admitted with a sigh and a smile, catching her eyes again and struggling to stop. ‘I’m sorry, for it all.’

‘Me too.’

‘You’ve nothing to be sorry for.’

‘Can be sorry how it all happened though, can’t I? We’re all just trying to survive. I can’t hold a grudge on anyone for that – not you, not even Tommy.’

John smiled, but it was in sad acceptance. His gaze flickered over the stitches as he said, ‘It’s about time we were all a happy family. Business is better than ever, Nance. Tom couldn’t be though, not with you so far away. Played on all of us. I felt like shit not saying goodbye, hated myself for it. Maybe I knew deep down you’d come back though – that it all wasn’t finished with. Arthur kept saying it wasn’t, that you were a Shelby. Doubted it, thought you’d run for the hills once you got the chance. But here you are.’

She shared his smile for a quiet moment.

The floorboards in the hallway creaked and the door was pushed open to reveal Tommy, a small sigh leaving him as he rubbed his eyes at the sight of her.

‘Thought I’d been bloody dreaming.’

John chuckled a little awkwardly, standing from the bed and moving to Tommy in the doorway. ‘Came to wake you, Polly is having a mare, Tom. Can imagine she’ll only get worse when she sees this one’s face,’ he said, nodding his head in motion to Nancy.

Tommy was nodding, hands braced on the frame, looking at Nancy properly in the light of the day. She should have been beautiful there, sat on the bed in only his shirt, her hair a mess from drying as she slept against him. But the stitches stood out on her face. The stark red line. It was a clean cut at least.

‘Family meeting,’ he decided, sighing again, glancing to John. ‘Not Ada though, not yet.’

___________

Polly cried, quietly cried and kissed her. Arthur had sworn, sworn and gone red with rage. John shoved him from the room, and then Polly had hugged her.

When all the brothers were back in the lounge, they sat in almost silence. Nancy had put herself in the arm chair, because she didn’t want anyone hugging on her while she spoke. She needed to get through it without crying.

So, staring at the floor, she told them. ‘Alfie Solomons found out that George had been sniffing around him. He thought he was George Owen though. Must have picked up my name from me in the shops. Thought that we were married.’

‘Where’s Georgie now?’ Polly asked, because nobody else could speak.

Nancy shrugged, voice wobbling a little with emotion, ‘I honestly don’t care. He lied to me.’

‘So did I,’ Tommy ground out through his tight jaw, fingers fidgeting, thumb digging into the spaces between them and leaving marks.

Nancy’s brow scrunched a bit. ‘I don’t think you did. You didn’t tell me. You should have. But you didn’t lie.’

‘Not much difference now,’ he said, voice straining and eyes closed.

John shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing to Arthur who glanced back.

‘You hired him then, to follow Solomons?’ Arthur asked in a way most steady for him.

‘No – I hired him to spend six months in London. To find out what he could. Not to get caught tailing him less than one month in,’ Tommy explained, sighing. ‘Nancy wasn’t part of the plan – in fact, I told him explicitly that she wasn’t to be. But you made your own choice, and I wasn’t going to be the man to stop you.’

‘Might not have gone though, if I’d have known.’ She’d said it softly, but it was as if she’d shot him, the way his eyes flashed to her with evident pain. She tried a little smile and carried on, ‘I got home to the flat in London and Solomons was there.’

There was an audible intake of breath.

‘I didn’t know anything, don’t know if I’d have told him if I did. But when he thought George was Owen, not Tinnen, I thought maybe he wouldn’t be able to track him down anyways. But he knew I was from Birmingham – knew the voice.’

‘Mention the Blinders?’

‘He’ll know it was us, Arthur,’ Tommy said darkly, watching Nancy, waiting for her to continue. But her eyes were filling, her hands beginning to fret on each other, clicking her knuckles and wringing her fingers over and over.

‘I don’t think he would have hurt me if I hadn’t have reached for a knife – he just got real angry real fast. I think he wanted to scare us off, thought scaring me would be enough to scare George off too. He was saying something,’ she whimpered, shaking her head, ‘Saying I obviously wasn’t taking him seriously, didn’t know who he was – it’s all a bit of a blur.’

‘You take your time,’ Polly said, looking to Tommy. But he could barely move, his eyes trained on his Nancy, unable to look away.

‘But he was saying sorry? He sent me straight to the hospital after,’ she shared, grimacing in confusion, looking up and meeting Tommy’s gaze. ‘He didn’t want to hurt me for me – it was for George, whoever hired George. Just to show that he would – that he didn’t mind hurting a woman. But he gave me money, sent me to the hospital. He’s a mad man, Tommy. It was like it was just part of the job for him? I don’t know.’

Tommy’s face was void of emotion, besides those eyes. Burning, burning, burning.

‘I left hospital when they started talking about police. Told George to drive me back. Snuck into the shop and stayed there a few nights,’ she stumbled over the next few words, ‘Then, well, it started raining and I – I just couldn’t stay there alone anymore.’

It was clear that was the end of her story, but no one dared speak. Not for a good long while as it sank in.

She was desperate for him to speak. The anger she’d felt for him had been replaced by the relief, then the comfort, the kiss – as gentle and chaste as it had been. Would he kiss her again today? OR was it a moment of overwhelming emotion? Was it all just a dream?

‘What we gonna do then, Tommy?’ Arthur asked in a low rumble, that red angry look back to him.

‘Go to London and cut his fucking face open,’ John spat, clapping his hands together and standing to pace up and down. Polly’s eyes followed him, and Arthur lit up a cigarette.

‘Do one for me, Arthur?’ Nancy asked softly. She hadn’t smoked in days.

He acted as if it were his born duty, rushing to light a second, leaving his own in the ash tray and moving to her, kissing the top of her head firmly. ‘Still the most beautiful girl I ever saw, Nancy-girl.’

‘Miah needs to look at her,’ Polly said, a bit absently. ‘Take those out.’

‘Few more days,’ Nancy said, as if confessing, giving her a regretful look. ‘They are inside too.’

‘Good god,’ Polly whispered, looking to Tommy. ‘What business do you have with this Solomons? He knows where we are, Tommy. He’ll know it’s you. He’ll come here.’

‘Not if I go to him first, Pol.’ Tommy gave her a flat firm look, but his toes were tapping in his shoe. Nancy could see the light movement.

‘You can’t march into London and-’

‘Leave us now,’ he mumbled, foot tapping faster but keeping the rest of himself in control. His glanced to Arthur, who looked back to John. ‘Go on.’

The family filed out, Nancy meeting John’s eye, returning his sad smile, then Arthur winked, and Polly gave a determined look – they’d be talking later.

The moment the door shut, silence surrounded them. But then Tommy sucked in a sharp breath and sprang up from his seat so abruptly that she flinched. He started marching back and forth, hands in his hair, then pressed at the heal of the palms against his temples.

‘Tommy?’

He raised a hand, a single finger, silently demanding he be given another moment. He’d come undone to her, right in front of her, trembling and reddening. And when he finally lifted his head, she saw his glassy eyes, his ruffled hair and a look so vulnerable, so not Tommy. Her soul lurched for his.

She’d been wrong, when she’d said that his suffering made him cruel. He wasn’t cruel. He could be, of course he could be. His suffering had made him weak, and he’d done all he could to never feel it. That’s why he was cold, and strong, and mean, and powerful.

But he was none of those things in that moment, and when she’d walked to him, intending to hold him, he’d took to his knees, his forehead against her stomach, submitting to her, submitting to the weakness.

He didn’t sob, as she ran her fingers through his hair, but he did cry, and when a gasp escaped him, trying to take in breath, she sank with him, wrapping them together.

Tommy kept hands on her, pulling her into him with desperation to sit across his lap, leaning back against the back of the sofa, Nancy curling into him with her face against his throat. ‘I’ll not do it again. Not let you come to harm for me, for money, for this family. I was supposed to keep you clean. Keep you safe.’

‘Why do you think I came to you?’ Nancy asked, pulling back to look at him.

Tommy frowned, half wishing she never had.

‘Because I only feel safe with you, Tommy. I don’t know if I’m stupid – or if I’m wrong, but I don’t feel real if I’m not with you. I was frightened with Solomons, but I don’t know, its almost like it didn’t happen to me. Because I wasn’t me.’

‘Your mind is trying to help you forget it,’ he murmured, gently tucking hair back out of her face, looking over her as he always did. ‘Because you are strong, Nancy Owen. Stronger than anyone I know. And I am a shit.’

Her face crumbled a little. ‘Why did you hire Georgie, Tom? Why him, out of everyone?’

Eyes slipping closed, he exhaled a heavy breath. ‘Because I wanted him away from Birmingham.’

He must have felt her pause, her breathing, her heart, because he looked at her, head tilted back against the sofa, eyes half hooded, lashes casting shadows.

‘Away from you.’

Whispering, Nancy asked, because she had to, ‘Was it worth it? This, to get him away from me?’

Tommy’s head slowly shook, his eyes barely blinking as he watched her, mask back but terror in his eyes.

‘I’d have stayed if you’d asked. That’s the worst part of all of it. It was for nothing, because I’d have stayed.’

‘I didn’t want you to stay for me, love. I wanted to keep you here but far enough away that I couldn’t touch you – that’s why I didn’t stop you living at the barbers. I thought it was best that way. But it’s not working, because you keep getting hurt.’

She didn’t need to say it, because his lips twitched downwards and his brow flickered, and then he said it himself.

‘Keep getting hurt because of me.’ He sighed, leaning his forehead against hers and closing his eyes, speaking in that smooth velvet voice, so deep it sounded like it came straight from the chest – the heart. ‘But I can’t let you go, my girl. Not now. I am going to need to keep you closer – that’s the plan. If you’ll let me.’

‘Always the man with a plan, aren’t you?’

His lips pulled a little at the sides. ‘Better to act than react, Nancy. Or I’d have killed George Tinnien the first time he looked at you and I’d be locked up. I’d have had you a thousand times over, and ruined it a thousand times too. I’m not good without my planning.’

‘You’re good though,’ she promised, she wished, she begged. ‘You are good, Tommy.’

His eyes opened and he smiled, touching her face, a finger ghosting over her lips. ‘Don’t tell anyone.’

Her lips quirked in light amusement, which seemed to remind him, and he looked to her stitches again.

‘I can’t take you to a doctor – only Jeremiah. How many days?’

‘We’ll go tomorrow,’ she said, then stiffened a little. ‘Can he come see me here?’

‘Course, love,’ Tommy murmured with a tremble, pulling her in, kissing her temple, ‘Course he can. You don’t go anywhere until you’re ready for it. Might have to send Pol round to Kenneth for some of your clothes though. My shirts and smalls won’t do around Finn – or John and Arthur for that matter.’

They shared a chuckle as he rubbed the cotton of the boxer briefs she had on between his fingers, his other hand splayed warm against her back, keeping her his.

He didn't kiss her, even though it felt like a moment he might. But they'd had plenty of those times, and there would be plenty more.

She almost asked him, almost. But he was tired, despite the sleep. His room, his sheets, had smelt like Dan used to smell sometimes. Like he used to smell sometimes too.

So she didn't - and didn't mind that she didn't either.

There was a peace in her she hadn't felt for months, a warmth, and she'd relish in it. Even if the heat came from the flames that were eating the world, licking at her feet. She'd be warm at least a while.

She'd burn a while, with him.

Chapter Text

Finn had barely left her side for days, and sat beside her at the kitchen table while Jeremiah inspected her cheek, inside and out. Nancy grimaced a little and Finn squeezed the hold he had on her hand.

‘Good lad, Finn,’ Arthur mumbled under his breath, watching on from where he leaned against the counters, a grave look on his face. ‘How we looking, Miah? Tommy's thinking they need out. Can't be sure exactly how long they've been in. Our Nance is dusty on the details, you know.’

Clicking his tongue and leaning back, the man smiled softly at Nancy. ‘We’ll take them out today, love. Clean cut – clean stitches. Has healed as well as it can.’

‘Thank you,’ she replied, looking to Finn – Finn who had kept her brave, because she didn’t want to frighten him by sobbing every day.

Jeremiah started unpacking his things, sterilising his scissors and getting a gauze ready just in case.

Nancy gave Finn a tight smile, rubbing her thumb across his palm. It had been a void really, life since she’d returned. She’d spent most of it in the kitchen with Finn and Polly, the brothers dipping in from the shop every now and then.

John was timid, but friendly, as he had been that first morning back. He made little mention of any grim topics, little mention of anything really. They kept conversation to the day, or to Finn, or the business. Arthur was the same, though he would catch himself staring sometimes, and then tell her how beautiful she still was, and kiss her forehead or her temple, rubbing the tops of her arms or tapping his knuckles on her.

Tommy didn’t catch himself, he stared openly. She hoped to God, or to anyone else listening, that he’d ease up once the ugly stitches were out.

He held her as they slept, usually her against his chest, and kissed her lightly on the lips or the cheek to say goodnight. Other than that, there was little indication that anything had changed between them. She was too broken to breech the subject just yet. They were not shy of each other, but there had been little time for talking or playing. They were companionable, but both fighting their own demons. It was alright to hold each other through it, just for now.

John had been right though, business was booming. The brothers had been busier than ever, much to Esme’s harassment. Twice she’d sent Jamie round to fetch John home when he’d worked late to dinner time – something for which Arthur took great pleasure in teasing him for.

Ada had walked over most afternoons, fetching Karl, who didn’t care about Nancy’s face. Ada did though, but as Ada was, she was best at hiding it. She’d said her piece for starters, but she could see how broken down Nancy was. She needed peace. Peace, then maybe she’d decide where her path was taking her.

The girls would gather in the kitchen in a way akin to how they used to when Nancy first moved in, only now she and Ada were allies, and Nancy wasn’t so naïve to the world. She felt more part of it though, more part of them, though sometimes the pair of them shared glances at the things she’d say – the things she’d admit. It wasn’t normal. The pain that she knew wasn’t normal, wasn’t something they all had in common, not in an exact way.

But the girls did know pain – the pain of shitty men, dangerous men. They could all relate on that.

No one had mentioned Alfie Solomons to her – or London at all, even in passing. It felt so deliberate it was almost as if they’d be told not to.

‘Here, pet,’ Arthur grunted, handing her a glass of whiskey, stepping away with a gentle pat on her shoulder.

Nancy supped it back, setting the glass on the table and straightened herself up for Miah. He leant in and began his work. Nancy widened her eyes, but not at the sensation, but at Finn leaning forward and dipping his finger in her glass, picking up a drop of the amber liquid and slurping it off like a dried up man.

He giggled, even at the slap Arthur gave to the back of his head, then gave Nancy a soft smirk, letting her know it was all for her. She tried her best not to smile, not wanting to think of her mouth at all really as Jeremiah worked.

But he leaned back, pressing his lips together, eyes level with hers and flitting between them. ‘Want a break?’ he asked softly.

She swiftly wiped her cheeks of tears she'd barely registered and smiled apologetically, ashamed. ‘No, no, carry on.’

Miah glanced back to Arthur, who swallowed so harsh that she heard it, then cleared his throat. As the scissors were working again, Arthur did something so Arthur, but so so unexpected, and started to sing. He sang as if he were in church, strong and proud, rumbling from his chest.

Miah’s lips were wobbling in amusement, sharing a glance with Finn who was so shocked he couldn’t even take breath to laugh.

‘They were summoned from the hillside, they were called in from the glen,
And the country found them ready at the stirring call for men.
Let no tears add to their hardships, as the soldiers pass along,
And although your heart is breaking, make it sing this cheery song:’

Nancy rose brows to Finn, who had burst into rounds of laughter, sat backwards on his chair, watching Arthur take his role as distraction most seriously, a hand on his stomach and his chest puffed out.

‘Keep the Home Fires burning,
While your hearts are yearning,
Though your lads are far away they dream of home.
Theres a silver lining, through the dark clouds shining,
Turn the dark cloud inside out, ’till the boys come home…’

John had appeared in the doorway some midway through the chorus, but no one had paid him much mind, which he didn’t mind. Arms crossed, leaning against the door frame, he watched on as Nancy, for the first time since she’d been back, had thrown her head back and laughed without fear of her face or her heart splitting open. She cackled and giggled and flushed, a hand on Miah’s shoulder who braced one of his on her knee.

Arthur had a deep red to his cheeks, but his lips twitched as he sang, catching John’s eye as Finn finally slipped from the chair and onto the floor in hysterical, over joyous child laughter.

John bounded into the room, wrapping an arm around his eldest brother’s shoulder and joined in for another round of the chorus – singing with his full chest and heart – singing without needing to be drunk or high.

‘Keep the Home Fires burning,
While your hearts are yearning,
Though your lads are far away they dream of home.
There's a silver lining, through the dark clouds shining,
Turn the dark cloud inside out, ’till the boys come home…’

Nancy could do that to the house, without much effort. They all turned into joyful fools.

She was still trying not to grin too wide, but it didn’t stop the tears from springing from her eyes, or the laughter escaping her. As they broke into ‘It’s a Long Way to Tipperary’, and Finn hooked arms with the pair and they skipped as a trio around the kitchen, Miah caught her and fished out the last two stitches, just in time for Arthur to pluck her up out the chair and link an arm with her.

They were paper dolls once again, connected at the sides, not all together but by enough to keep them fused – in body and in soul. John lifted Finn onto the kitchen table, and Arthur lifted Nancy, and the brothers skipped and hopped around the table, clapping loudly, Jeremiah joining them in song. Finn and Nancy barely knew the words, but it didn’t matter.

There was light, and it didn’t always have to come from her, she could soak it up too.

Her relief was tenfold. She could still laugh, she could still dance. It was as if every stitch that was pulled from her face was a sickness being pulled from her.

Finn skipping off the edge of the table and pulling her with him was enough to stop the chaos. Arthur caught her, bridal style, grunting, but not as badly as poor Finn on the stone floor.

‘Thanks a lot, Arthur! Least favourite bloody brother!’ Finn announced, brushing off his pants but still smirking a little at all the excitement.

‘Would you rather he let our Nance fall, young man?’ Jeremiah asked, chucking him under the chin. Finn had it in him to look ashamed at his outburst. ‘Thought not.’

He’d started gathering up his things, and leaned forward to Arthur and Nancy, gripping her chin and turning her head with a hum of inspection then looking into her eyes with a soft smile.

‘Still an angel – ey, boys? Right. Give Tommy my best. See you, Nancy – Finn.’

‘God sent an angel,’ Arthur started again, singing in a baritone to Nancy who he still held, ‘To take your mother’s place – she drives away all sorrow – there’s sunshine on her face!’

‘What the bloody hell are you doing?’ Polly asked, grunting at the bags of shopping she was carrying in. ‘Come on, give a hand.’

Arthur set Nancy down as Finn and John scrambled for Polly, who watched Arthur smile, touch just below her scar, then kiss her forehead before pulling away. Nancy sighed in soft content to herself, seeming to leave the room in a haze, walking through to the bathroom without closing the door.

‘Just seen Miah on the way out,’ Polly’s voice carried through, as well as the sound of the boys helping her unpack, someone lighting a cigarette.

‘Took Nancy’s stiches out,’ Finn told her. ‘Then Arthur started singing to cheer her up, and then he dropped me off the table.’

There was the sound of a light thud, then Finn scoffing, and John lightly scolding him for being a ‘gobshite.’ But they were all still giddy from their play, half dancing around their tasks, nudging at each other and poking fun, John half humming under his breath.

‘Did bloody well, didn’t ya, Nance?’ Arthur called through, looking back over his shoulder, his vision of her obscured by the way she was stood facing the mirror. ‘Ah, Jeremiah says it’ll be healed and done with in no time – will look no more than a scratch. Ain’t that right – Nance?’

Polly caught John’s eye and frowned at the silence, moving around the table and to the bathroom door, closing it over a little, but John could still see, and watched as Nancy turned, a whimper escaping her as she flung herself into Polly’s arms.

‘It’s horrible,’ she gasped between sobbing breaths, so quietly it wouldn’t have been heard if the boys hadn’t been listening so eagerly.

Finn looked up at John, frowning, about to open his mouth, but John set a finger to his lips and nodded towards the flowers Polly had set on the table. Finn sneered a little at them but started unwrapping them and grabbed the scissors to clip the ends.

Nancy sobbed, sobbed until the flowers were in the vase, and the bath was half full, and Tommy came home and into the kitchen, raising a brow at his brothers all lingering in the room awkwardly. Arthur opened his mouth, about to speak, but Tommy’s head lifted to the sound of the girls voices coming from the bathroom.

The windows were all fogged from the heat of the filling bath, which the sound of drowned their words.

‘What’s going on?’ he murmured, taking off his coat, hanging it up, giving them time to decide who was going to speak. He turned to them and cleared his throat. ‘Did Jeremiah come?’

‘He’s pleased with the healing, Tom,’ Arthur said roughly, nodding and clearing his throat but the lump wouldn’t shift. ‘She was right jolly-’

‘Till she looked in the mirror,’ John said, biting at the inside of his cheek, watching Tommy with his pale blue eyes. He was leaning back against the counter, hands in his pockets. ‘Polly’s running her a bath.’

Tom’s brow quirked and he bit back a sarcastic comment, choosing instead to nod. He moved to Finn, who was fixing himself some bread with a lathering of butter. He ruffled his hair. ‘You look after her for me, Finn?’

Finn nodded, finger in his mouth as he sucked off the butter. ‘We sang for her and everythin’. She was laughing.’

‘Good, Finn,’ Tommy replied with a troubled but soft smile, patting his shoulder. ‘You’re a good lad, minding her the way you do.’

‘I don’t mind her, I just be with her,’ he said with a scrunched little brow, looking up at Tommy who was warmed by his brothers words. ‘She’s still pretty – shouldn’t be crying like that.’

‘Women folk can’t see themselves like we see them, Finny,’ Arthur told him and lifted his plate. ‘Take that through the lounge, go on.’

‘Then see if you can see Jamie out the streets – tell him to go home to Esme before it gets dark or I’ll whip ‘im,’ John called after him, then sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and stealing glances at Tommy.

They heard the water turn off, then Polly’s soft voice, one reserved for Nancy and the kids, and on occasion, when she let her, Ada. They heard the gentle lap of water as Nancy climbed into the tub, then Polly appeared, clicking the door behind her with a grimace.

‘Get me a bottle of gin,’ she said to Arthur, who straightened to order and moved immediately to fetch one from the pub. Polly lit a cigarette and sucked on it like it were the holy grail, eyes closed as she soothed her soul, hand over her heart. ‘I’ll not see that girl suffer another inch.’

‘She’s not going to,’ Tommy said plainly, glaring at her, as if she threatened any different.

But Polly was shaking her head. ‘You should never have took her – never, Thomas Shelby. You wanted to keep her safe in your hands, ey? Well, you squeezed to hard.’

John had stepped forward lightly when Polly had marched on Tom, finger pointed at his chest, voice hissing out like venom from a viper.

Tommy’s voice was low, rumbling and warning, ‘Don’t for a minute think I don’t know exactly what I’ve done to her, Pol. I know it better than anyone. Nothing – not a single fucking thing is going to touch her, alright? Anything happens to her, I’ll put a bullet in the first person even so much as looking guilty, yeah? Don’t fucking speak to me about her.’

‘She’s not just yours, Tommy!’ she whispered, but harshly, yelling, glancing towards the closed bathroom door.

He was almost trembling with anger, barely registering John’s arm across the front of his chest, or the way his hands braced in front of him as if he could just reach out and grip her. He snarled, gnashing and growling, ‘She’s mine – my woman – my girl – my responsibility.’

They were somewhat surprised by his confession. Polly had known they’d been sharing the room – some nights. It had happened every night, but she wasn’t always around to see them slink off together. If both doors were shut - both doors were shut and she assumed everyone in bed. They’d had a strange bond before, twisted and toxic and loving all alike, but it hadn’t gotten to this point.

‘She is?’ John asked, grimacing, looking over his shoulder, which was pressed to the front of Tommy’s own to keep him back.

Arthur broke through then, panting from his running, hold out a bottle of gin which Tommy snatched from his grasp as he fluidly moved from behind John, giving a final burning glare to Polly, then moved for the bathroom door, opening it harshly but then closing it so gently that it barely clicked.

Nancy had her knees up to her chest, her back to him. All he could see was her wet hair, darkened by the water, sticking to the middle of her back. Her bare shoulders jutting out from either side. Her knee, small and slender, tucked against her.

She lay a cheek against her thigh, revealing the cut side of her face to him as she blinked in shock at his presence. She’d thought it was Polly.

He stood over her, panting a little, clutching the neck of the gin bottle so firmly it was a wonder to her that it didn’t shatter. He was trying to calm himself, that she could tell.

She hadn’t heard any of the conversation though, her head underwater, eyes closed, taking a step back from the world.

‘Tommy?’

He sighed then, his tense shoulders dropping and a hand falling to rub across his forehead. He snapped up though and plucked up the chair, setting it at the side of the tub and popping the bottle open to hand to her.

She took it and hesitantly sipped.

‘You were upset?’ he asked, struggled to ask. He could barely sit still.

Brow minutely flickering in concern, she nodded, taking another sip from the bottle and gasping at the taste.

‘Why?’

‘My face.’

Tommy scrunched his nose up and gestured to her. ‘Your face?’

She lightly touched the scar, feeling the dip in her skin. It had been itching something rotten, but the hot water helped. Tommy leaned back in his seat, watching her with his hooded eyes. ‘I don’t know what I thought – that it would just magically disappear? At least that it would look better. It doesn’t.’

‘It will be a silver line in years to come, Nancy,’ he said softly, his breathing settling to a slow pace in the heat of the bathroom. She kept her knees tightly to her, swigging from the bottle. He straightened in his seat. ‘Sorry, I’m making you uncomfortable. I didn’t think – I just needed to see you.’

‘Still think I’ve got a pretty face?’ she asked, voice hitching a little, shaking her head at his worrying.

Tommy’s mouth half lifted in a smile, tilting his head at her in that lovely way he did. ‘You’re far more than pretty, sweetheart.’

Nancy tried to smile, but it looked like sorrow.

Tommy licked his lips and lit a cigarette. ‘I’ll tell you it every day, twice or more, if you need me to. Until you believe it – until you feel it.’

She smiled properly at that, feeling herself flush. Her hair was wet and cold against her, and she desperately wanted to put the gin bottle down, but she didn’t dare move.

The air around them shifted, and Tommy’s eyes were lightened, lit up a little – sparkling.

She watched him as he looked her over, though he couldn’t see anything other than bare arms, bare knees and shins. He could see the curve of her naked waist though, just at the sides, and the way her hips rounded out, pressed wide against the base of the bath.

‘You came in here to leer,’ she accused lightly, feeling like she might be sick – but in a way that completely thrilled and terrified her.

Tommy put his hands up in defence, smirking at her, his eyes half lidded and hazy. ‘Not leering.’

‘What then?’ she asked, raising a brow, holding the gin bottle out for him to take, careful to keep some of her modesty.

Tommy sucked in his bottom lip, licking across it, then took the bottle back, leaning back in his chair, relaxing. He balanced the bottle on the edge of the seat between his legs, which he stretched out with a sigh. ‘Admiring – marvelling. I’ve done a lot of it this past year – not quite like this though. Do you mind? Or are you shy, Nancy Owen?’

She was blushing, so harshly she could faint, but she gave him a smirking, scolding look. ‘I was supposed to be bathing and weeping alone.’

‘Neither should be a lonely sport,’ he said with a soft smile, but his gaze was heavy. He flicked the ash from his smoke and inhaled a final drag before holding it out to her, just far enough away she’d have to reach. He rose a challenging brow, only it was so slight she’d never be able to hold it against him. So slight that it gave her the choice to ignore it if she wanted, to pretend she’d never seen it. The chance to laugh at him and send him on his way.

Taking a breath, giving herself the courage, she kept gaze on the smoking cigarette – still not brave enough to meet his eye – and lowered her knees, swapping them so that she kneeled upon them. Out of the water just above her belly button, she set a hand on the edge of the tub and rose out just enough to take it, eyes lifting to his when their hands made contact.

Tommy’s eyes were on hers and stayed on hers until she sat back on her heels, leaving her waist-up exposed to him. He let out a strained breath and let his eyes wander. They did not hesitate, or flit.

They lingered, dragging across her skin. The softness at the top of her stomach, the tight stretched skin around her ribs, the roundness of her breasts, covered in goosebumps, pink nipples hard and strained against themselves in the cold. She had a delve between her ribcage, only slight, but leading down in the water. Oh, how he wished to follow it down.

Her collar bone had always enticed him. He’d never been able to hold back from touching it, tracing his fingers along it. Seeing it bare, his view undisturbed by clothing and silk straps made his stomach clench. She was so clean, so pure to him. The only thing that stood out was the red slit across her face and that, even still, seemed only to make her more beautiful to him.

Nancy smoked, staying as still as she could, though her heart was beating so harshly she could feel herself rocking lightly with it. How her body burned and squirmed for him. His eyes, drunk on her, looking at her, unblushing, unashamed, hungry – starving – but still with the sense not to lean forward to taste.

Tommy knew he couldn’t taste though. He could taste without devouring.

He met her eyes as she took the final drag of the cigarette, and without looking away leaned forward with the ash tray, holding it for her as she stubbed it out, his breaths coming in short laps.

For once, she was unreadable to him. A little frightened, he could see. Her chest was rising and falling, those lovely, lovely breasts rising and falling for him. She was pink in the cheeks, and blushing patches across her sternum. Unblinking for a while, then suddenly fluttering her lashes to rid herself of the sting.

His jaw squeezed, squaring off at one side as his face washed blank. Only it wasn’t blank to her. It was yearning.

Nancy sucked in her bottom lip and slipped back into the water, hair and all, but bending her knees, half crossing them. She rinsed her hair off, letting her hands smooth slowly from her chest, down over her tingling nipples, down the sides of her ribs and then to the bottom of the bath. She pushed up to stand, closing her eyes briefly as she did before looking to him.

Tommy wouldn’t forget the sound of the water rushing as she rose from it, of the trinkling sounds of it running from her. They’d match in his mind with the image of her forever, stood for him bare, stepping out and onto the tile floor below. The wet foot prints she left as she stepped sideways for her towel were padded across his mind, though there they did not fade.

He managed a single strained order, right from the base of his throat:

‘Come here.’

He was supposed to add her name on the end, but it couldn’t get past the lump in his throat that had risen up from his clenching stomach.

Nancy gasped when his finger tips touched her ribs, his head tilted back to look at her mouth. He kissed her, softly, his body vibrating with the strain of holding back, like an archer pulled back on a bow too long. Trembling, hot, twitching, waiting for release - the plunging kill.

His breath hit her face in gasps and sighs, hands delicately exploring her waist, her back, her hips, her arms, the slope of her thighs, while he kissed from her mouth across her cheek and along her jaw.

Never had she known hands so gentle, not even his. It was as if he were afraid to break her, or to mark her skin. To brush off some of his darkness on her good and righteous soul. But he was not mad enough to keep himself away altogether – only a man with a will of steel could accomplish such a feat.

So he was soft, touching politely and kissing with heat against her skin, desperately sucking droplets of water from her as he went. At the base of her throat he pressed his lips and she released a whimpering moan. His lips parted, humming a needing groan from the back of his throat that he didn’t give permission to escape, but it did, and following it he dragged his teeth across her skin, almost wanting to bite down.

But his lips were there again, and his molten tongue, squashing against her with his open mouthed kisses, then massaging against the nipple that his mouth closed around. His hands were moving less precisely, less carefully, gripping at her hips, pulling her into him, then reaching around and gripping the padded cheeks of her arse so tightly it pained her.

But then he pulled back, only enough to set his forehead against her at the centre of her ribs, panting, shaking his head, hands back on her waist. ‘Fucking hell.’

Nancy was too breathless, too hot and wet and needing to say anything, only running her fingers through his hair until she finally she managed to breath out, ‘What are you doing to me, Thomas Shelby?’

‘Me?’ he asked breathless, lifting his head with a serious look in his eye, as if she were some mystical thing he’d never come across before. ‘This is all you. All you.’

His hands slinked to her scalp, pulling her down to him, kissing her lips, still off to one side, but firm and wet.

‘You’re going to kill me, Nancy Owen.’

‘You me first,’ she breathed against his mouth, eyes almost crossed with how close they were. He grinned though, in a way that held nothing back; joy and love in his gaze. But Nancy couldn’t read that, because her heart was swelling so rapidly in her chest that her vision blurred and all she could do was feel, and feel and feel.

His breath, his hands, his smile, her heart, her need.

Chapter Text

Tommy had left her in the bathroom to dry and dress, keeping his hands firmly shoved into his pockets as he planted a final kiss onto her cheek, barely looking at her. But his averted eyes didn’t make her feel rejected for once, but made her smirk. It was like he couldn’t bare to look at her without the thought of taking her back in hand.

It had made her forget, for a moment, her new face. But as she dried off, with every layer of clothing she pulled on, the tingling feeling of his hands on her fizzled out and she was left with the same cold terror she’d had before.

Dressed, she moved back to the mirror, eyes dropping to the scar. It was an ugly thing still. Not healed, not yet. But when she didn’t stare at it, when she forced herself to look back into her eyes, she was still her. Just now she carried around the thing that had happened to her on her face.

It wasn’t just London – Georgie - Alfie. It was the whore house, Dan’s sickness, the Lee’s. Ethan. John. Tommy. It was a mark on her that would last, but would hopefully be her last. It felt like everything had built up to this, this thing that one day would be only a silver line. This felt like the worst thing that could happen to her – she couldn’t imagine anything worse.

Wearing it almost took the weight off her heart. She didn’t have to carry it around anymore. It was all there, for her and all the world to see – but at least she didn’t have to hold it anymore.

She had thought about Dan as she combed through her wet hair, still gazing at herself in the mirror. Would he have already killed Georgie for getting her into the trouble – or would he have blamed Tommy outright? The blame game was always played in a circle, pointing fingers round and round until everyone blurred together. Worthless – made her feel sick.

She wondered too if Tommy had already killed Georgie somehow. He, after all, had failed his task and given Tommy’s game away. What did Thomas Shelby do to men who failed him? Who made him look a fool?

She remembered the car, speeding down the country roads, the fogged glass, the heat of his rage and the sounds of her horrible whimpering. Only in her memory she already had the cut, stark dark red against her face, closed but not healed.

She took a few deep breaths before she left the bathroom, glad to find the kitchen empty. Stealing a single flower from the vase and tucking it under her nose, she sped for the stairs and to her room where she stayed undisturbed until it was nearing dinner time.

‘Nancy, pet,’ Arthur greeted, stopping in front of her in the doorway, holding out dirty hands to his sides, away from her, and leaning down to kiss the top of her head. ‘Off to wash up.’

She chuckled as he moved away and into the bathroom, looking to Polly who sighed tiredly, rolling her eyes and explaining, ‘Insisted on helping, didn’t he. I’ll tell you what, I’m glad he’s trying to cut back on drinking, but avoiding the pub altogether is a bit bloody inconvenient for the rest of us.’

‘All for the best, Pol!’ Arthur called through the open door, over the sound of the running tap.

‘He won’t last the week,’ Tommy spoke, approaching from behind Nancy, setting a hand at the back of the neck and rubbing his thumb there in greeting. He sent her a light smile as he passed and released her, moving to the drink cupboard, fag hanging from his lips as he inspected the bottles there. ‘Wine tonight, I think.’

Polly was smirking, tutting, but waggled a stack of plates at Nancy to set out. ‘Ada and Freddie are coming.’

‘Karl entertaining at home, is he?’ Tommy asked, raised brows, all serious in his delivery. But then he met Nancy’s smile, and his lips twitched a little, breaking into a grin when Polly’s tea towel hit the back of his head. Their earlier argument had likely been forgotten, most days all Tommy had to do was a light touch to Pol’s arm, or a soft guilty smile, and all would be solved. He set the wine on the table and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, moving to the table. ‘What’ll it be, love? Wine or whiskey?’

‘Maybe I’ll join Arthur in his sobriety,’ she teased, stopping next to him, and moving the bottles over so that she could set down the last plate.

‘Arthur’s got many years on you, Nancy. He’s had his fill – you’ve barely touched the surface,’ Polly told her and set down three wine glasses and two tumblers before calling into the bathroom, ‘And what will his goodness be drinking then? Milk? Would you like it warmed?’

Arthur came out, rubbing his hands dry and scrunching his nose. ‘I don’t know, Pol. What do fellas drink with a meal?’

Tommy put a strong hand to his brother’s shoulder, giving him a shake. ‘You could always wean yourself, Arthur. Have a lager instead of a whiskey.’

‘Well, if I’m having a pint I might as well have a larl tipple of the good stuff instead – s’all the same, isn’t it?’ he reasoned, picking up the bottle of whiskey and giving it a sniff. ‘Aye, that’ll do. Just the one for me.’

Tommy gave Nancy a devilish smirk and bit his lip to stop his grin when Polly practically slammed a third tumbler on the table with the others in exhaustion.

‘Hello, hello,’ Ada called from the front door, Freddie dipping in behind her carrying Karl the bundle. ‘This is all very civilised. Hello, Nancy.’

Nancy and Ada kissed cheeks, Ada pulling back and giving her a light inspection.

‘Looking better,’ she confirmed, nudging her friend’s cheek and moving on to greet Tommy.

‘Alright, Nance,’ Freddie greeted with grin. Out of all the extended “Shelby” clan, Freddie was on best terms with Nancy. The brothers all got along, but there was an air of discomfort after everything they’d been through. ‘Tommy, Pol – Arthur.’

‘Get a drink, Freddie,’ Arthur said jovially, clapping him on the back.

Polly ushered for everyone to sit, and looked to Nancy, asking, ‘Get Finn will you?’

‘He’s just outside – told him to come in but he just put fingers up at me, little shit,’ Ada said, glancing to Karl still in Freddie’s arms. ‘I’ll fetch his basket.’

‘He’ll come for his Nancy,’ Polly chuckled, shaking her head and Ada rolled her eyes in good nature.

‘I’ll get the basket,’ Nancy said as she moved from the room and through the house. It was only when she opened the door that she realised it was the first time she’d felt fresh air on her skin since she’d come back to Birmingham – the first time she’d see the street, seen anyone outside of her own makeshift family. She hadn’t even been in the shop.

Finn was with three other boys, kicking a ball back and forth up the road.

‘Finn – dinner!’

‘Who’s that?’ one of the boys asked.

‘My aunt Nancy,’ Finn said with ease, setting off at a light jog up the street, grinning at her. ‘You’re outside.’

Nancy looked up and down the street, breathing in the air. ‘I know. Come on – go upstairs and fetch Karl’s basket for Ada, will you? Then when you give it to her you can say sorry for putting fingers up to her.’

‘Alright,’ he said, trying to look ashamed but giggling when she gave him a push towards the stairs.

Nancy returned to the kitchen, touching Ada’s shoulder and saying, ‘Finn’s fetching it.’

Tommy’s eyes had landed on her the moment she entered the room and hadn’t left her. It didn’t feel out of the ordinary. In fact, it was so normal she realised he’d always done it. She’d just never dared to realise it before. He put out a hand as she passed, touching the skirt of her dress, pouring her a glass when she sat beside him where he was at the head of the table.

‘Sorry, Ada,’ Finn mumbled when he came into the room, giving the basket to Freddie who moved to settle Karl in it in the hallway, away from the smoke and the noise.

‘Don’t be sorry, just do as you’re told,’ she said, glaring when Tommy scoffed.

‘Ada’s never done a single thing she’s been told Finn,’ he said, smirking at his sister. ‘But you should still listen to her – it’s made her wise.’

Arthur smacked his lips loudly, sighing at his now empty glass and setting it down on the table, his gaze set on it at his rubbed his chin.

Nancy closed her eyes to stop from laughing, feeling a warm hand land on her thigh, squeezing and rubbing. When she looked up, Tommy was grinning at her around the rim of his glass, all amused and beautiful as he was.

‘Aye, go on, just the one more,’ Arthur said, elbowing Freddie in request that he pour him a drink. ‘Whoa, whoa, not too much there, Fred. I’m cutting back, see.’

‘Oh have a bloody drink, Arthur!’ Polly barked, leaning over and grabbing the bottle from Freddie who chuckled, holding his hands up in defence. ‘Start again tomorrow!’

The table, having been somewhat silent in their amusements, burst into laughter. Tommy watched Nancy, and she looked back to him with a grin, shaking her head. His smile slipped a little, and he leaned into her ear, murmuring, ‘Welcome back, my girl.’

The evening went on much the same, with laughter and feasting. The success of the business was mentioned, and a few jabs about Esme, and Finn even shared some gossip he’d picked up from the other kids on the street.

Polly was pleased, and she’d given Tommy’s shoulder a good pat half way through the meal, solidifying their reconciliation. She’d just needed to see Nancy happy really, to forgive him. Knowing she’d stick with him for anything used to terrify her, but knowing how it warmed Tommy, that he’d always have her, it was comforting.

‘Oh,’ Polly sighed with a slur, ‘Anyone for pudding?’

‘Oh, aye,’ Arthur started, stretching his arms and rubbing his stomach. He finished off his drink, reaching for the bottle again.

Nancy chuckled and shook her head but rose. ‘I’ll do it, Pol.’

‘She’s a gem – you were never that much help,’ Polly told Ada who was cooing at Karl who sat awake on Freddie’s knee.

Ada rolled her eyes, not turning around but responding, ‘Well I’m being cursed for it now. Freddie works all the time. I’m like a regular old housewife now.’

‘You don’t know the half of it, wait until you’ve got three and a half grown men and a brat of a girl to feed and clean for.’

‘And a stray,’ Ada teased, turning to raise a brow to Nancy, finding her stood beside Tommy. She’d cleared all the plates with Finn’s help and was stood with a stack of bowls, Polly’s desert in a large one in front of her and a spoon ready for serving. None of this was out of the ordinary. Not even Tommy’s arm around her, hand on her waist, was so strange. Or him looking up at her.

He always looked at her, and after a few drinks would touch her. But the way his eyes were on her, the warmth in his gaze.

It struck Ada to her core, shock ringing through her. Wide-eyed, she looked to Polly to see if she’d noticed, but she was lighting another cigarette. Arthur was drunk, and useless, and noticed nothing. So she looked to Freddie, who held a soft smile on his lips, watching Tommy as he smiled as Nancy spoke to him, her all animated, and him hanging on every word.

‘Fucking hell,’ Ada murmured and Freddie smirked at her.

‘Now that is a pudding,’ Arthur announced as Nancy moved around the table, delivering him his bowl. ‘Well done, our Nance.’

‘Polly made it, Arthur,’ she told him, but patted his shoulder all the same. She gave Ada a questioning frown to her raised brow, setting their bowls in front of them, then moved back to take her seat.

‘What’s plans then, Tommy?’ Ada asked conversationally.

He tilted his head back, looking at her. ‘For what, Ada?’

‘With this Solomons fella?’ she pressed. ‘It’s not usually my way to take interest, but as it concerns Nancy.’

Tommy nodded, his lips pouting in consideration. He very clearly avoided looking to Nancy, but it wasn’t lost on the others when he reached over and gripped her thigh. ‘Understandable. All you need to know – all of you – is that it’s being seen to.’

Nancy was blocking out the conversation, focusing on eating. It was a both a relief and a trauma getting used to it without her stitches holding her together. She was paranoid her face would split, that she’d never heal. It was silly, she knew. But she couldn’t help it.

Tommy squeezed her thigh, rubbing his thumb against her skin so firmly she thought it might bruise. She looked at him and he was gazing at her, waiting for her to meet his eye so that he could read her.

‘It’s being seen to,’ he repeated.

She wanted to ask him how, what he was doing, what he was going to do – and who was involved. But the mood was starting to shift, and she so wanted it to stay light. So she forced a smile and said, ‘Pour me another drink, would you?’

It appeased him, and he gave a soft smile, releasing her to fill her glass.

‘Hey, why don’t you girls go out. I’ll take Karl home,’ Freddie offered to lighten the mood again, giving Nancy a smile. ‘It would do you all good to get dressed up and head out.’

‘Ere, not a bad plan,’ Ada said, looking to Polly and then to Nancy, ‘What do you think, ladies?’

Nancy couldn’t think of anything worse, and by the sight off him rubbing his lips together, gazing at his burning cigarette, neither could Tommy. And since their meeting in the bathroom earlier, all she could think of was the evening, of what might happen once it got dark.

They’d always shared the evenings, whispering in bedrooms, having conversations and confrontations downstairs, or even both sat awake in their own rooms, knowing the other was awake but not knowing what to do about it.

‘I’m tired,’ she burst out, more abruptly than she meant to. Her cheeks were hot, as was her stomach. The wine had loosened her up, and the thought of hot hands on wet skin was making her hotter – squirming slightly in her seat. She felt sick but it felt nice. ‘I’ll wash up, you go, Pol.’

Polly rose a brow to Ada, who smirked but looked to Freddie. ‘You sure?’

He huffed, rolling his eyes in jest, then smiled. ‘I’m sure.’

‘Go up and borrow a dress, if you like,’ Nancy offered and Ada grinned, lifting from her seat and kissing Karl’s head as she passed. Nancy stood and moved to the sink, Finn naturally moving to start stacking bowls for her.

‘I’m off to change,’ Polly announced, giving Nancy a squeeze on the arm in thanks and winking at Freddie who was bundling Karl up ready for home.

Arthur lit himself a cigarette and picked up the bottle of whiskey. ‘I’m off home. No pub for me.’

Nancy sent him a warm smile, a hint of amusement in it that Arthur caught, sending her a wink back, then looking to Tommy and giving a nod. ‘See you tomorrow, Tom.’

‘Not too early, Arthur, I’ll be sleeping off my hangover,’ he called, making Freddie and Nancy chuckle.

Freddie bid them goodbye as Nancy started washing up. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, knowing he was just behind her, not being able to see him. But she could hear him smoking, then hear him finish his drink, and him stubbing out his cigarette in the tray. His chair slowly scraped out, and he tucked it back in.

Then hands were on her hips, his pointed jaw against her, the tip of his nose on the rim of her ear. Tommy let out a long, heavy breath, hot on her skin. It was a sound of relief, as if his hands had been burning to hold her since the moment he’d last let her go.

‘I’m going to kill Alfie Solomons,’ he murmured, as if it were some kind of elicit confession of want and desire. His voice was a low rumble on her, that she felt as well as heard, all the words strung together like they’d been dipped in honey. Barely audible, but scorching her too. His grip tightened and he pulled her hips backwards against him so that their bodies were flushed. ‘Do you remember, Nancy, that I said that I was going to wait to show you what it meant to be mine?’

She almost whimpered when she opened her mouth to respond, half a sound escaping her. She could barely breathe. ‘Yes, Tommy.’

‘Well, I’m tired of the waiting. The torment,’ he said against her, sighing, grazing his lips just behind her ear. ‘He’s dangling a steak in front of a starving dog. Do you understand?’

Nancy was still trying to wash, but compared to her the water felt luke warm, and her fingers were practically numb, all of her feeling at the pit of her stomach and where his breath burned her skin. ‘I’m so-’

He tutted in her ear. ‘No. He’ll be sorry. For making me wait to kiss you properly, making me wait to have you. And I’ve waited so long already.’

She felt the firmness of him, pushing against her, right where her thighs met. Sucking in a breath, she made to speak, but couldn’t.

‘I’m not having you until I can do it properly – until I can fuck you and love you as I like,’ he murmured as they heard the sound of the girls making their way down the stairs.

‘I’ve left some clothes out on your bed, Nancy!’ Ada called from the hall way, stumbling as she slung her shoes on. ‘Sorry for the mess!’

‘She won’t be needing her bed anyways, Ada,’ Polly announced and they both fell about laughing, clinging to each other. ‘Night, Nancy! Night Tom!’

Tommy was smirking, his forehead pressed to Nancy’s shoulder blade as she turned a bright crimson. ‘Night, Pol. See you, Ada,’ he called, pulling away from Nancy and asking, ‘Do you need me to walk you over?’

‘Arthur’s waiting outside,’ Polly said, waving him off, giving him an accusing look, but not being able to fight her smile. ‘Goodnight.’

Nancy called back over her shoulder, swallowing at the lump in her throat, finishing up the last of the dishes as swiftly as she could while Tommy straightened out the chairs.

‘I’m going to check on Finn,’ he said, waiting until she turned around, drying her hands on the tea towel. ‘Then we’ll have another drink, ey?’

She nodded, still mute, and it made him grin and point to her.

‘Get them poured, love.’

Finally, once he’d left the room, she could breath again, and did. She took four heavy breaths, unbuttoning her dress a little and patting cold water into her skin. She moved through to the bathroom and fixed her hair, wishing her stupid blush would fade, then rushed to pour the drinks and move through to the sitting room.

‘He’s flat out,’ Tommy sighed. He’d lost his haze and seemed more sober. But he dropped onto the sofa, slinging a lazy arm across the back behind her, his finger tips brushing at the back of her neck. He gazed at his drink a while, lips twitching in a smile.

‘What are you so pleased about?’ she asked in accusation.

‘Found your voice then, have you? Was it in the liquor cabinet?’ he teased with a smirk, eyes flickering over her face.

She slapped his chest, but he gripped her wrist, pulling her into his chest and leaning back so that she lay against him.

‘Oh, my girl,’ he sighed tiredly but with fondness. ‘What a bloody strange day this has been.’

‘A strange life,’ she said with a chuckle.

He smirked in agreement, nudging her cheek with his finger to turn her to look at him. ‘How did we end up here, ey?’

‘Where are we going?’ she countered and he held her gaze a while, before grinning. One of his big grins, the ones he rarely did without sarcasm.

‘I know a thing or two about that, don’t you worry,’ he said, sipping his drink and looking forward, his eyes seeing something not in the room. ‘I know how things are going to be, and I’m going to make them that way.’

‘Only you could change the world on will alone, Thomas Shelby.’

‘Oh, I’ve more than will,’ he said, looking back to her and pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead.

Chapter Text

Tommy hadn’t changed the world, not yet.

Birmingham still looked exactly the same to her, still smelt the same too. She wasn’t out in it, not yet. But she watched from the window, fingers running across her collar bone, stood only in her slip, watching the day wake.

‘You not cold?’ Tommy asked as he came back into the room, tying the buttons at his wrists, frowning in gesture to the open window as he moved towards her. He looked out, looking to see what Nancy had been looking at, but the streets were mostly empty, bar the newspaper boy and a few workers eating their breakfasts as they walked.

She smiled softly to his furrowed brow, the way he reached out and brushed his knuckles against her cheek. ‘Morning.’

Tommy smiled, moving away, carrying on getting dressed. Nancy gave the street another glance and closed the window with her lips pressed together. Her face had healed further in the last week or two, spending a few days incredibly itchy, ugly, and uncomfortable. But it looked cleaner now. A thin red line. Still a little tight, still a little strange.

Tommy cleared his throat a little as he fixed his hair, then said, ‘Scud was just asking about you. He doesn’t like my cups of tea.’

He’d stopped torturing himself with touching her. Not completely, but in the way he had the day she got her stitches out. Once again, despite sharing his bed almost every evening, and his gentle touches in front of the family, it was as if nothing between them had changed at all. A peck on the lips. That was all she got.

Nancy told herself that it was because if Tommy was going to have her, it had to be everything or nothing. But if felt more like this was all it would ever be. Whatever heat she’d burnt up in him had cooled. The cruel voice in her head told her it was because of her face, or because she’d not left the house in weeks, not even to go into the shop.

Maybe he’d been thinking she’d heal up better than she had, and now he was regretting everything. A man like Thomas Shelby couldn’t have an ugly woman on his arm. She knew that. But if that was the case, she’d rather know about it.

His kissed her cheek then, firmly, lingering, his hand gripping her from the side just below her breast, fingers lined up on her ribs like piano keys. ‘I’ll see you later, sweetheart.’

‘See you, Tommy,’ Nancy said with a smile, turning her face to look him in the eye. His own mouth tugged at one side, his eyes fanning over her.

‘I like that dress,’ he murmured, then kissed just beside her ear, then he was gone.

The dress was hanging on the wardrobe door. She’d picked it out especially. Especially for the day. It was Monday, and the official deadline she’d given herself for wallowing.

So, she slipped it on, and while she stood in front of the mirror doing her hair, she practiced stretching her jaw open and closed, testing herself. She even shoved a finger inside, feeling along the ridge of the inner scar.

Tommy would think she was insane. Anyone would think she was insane, really.

Alfie Solomons had been kind though, stopping where he did. Before he passed the middle, before he got to the real fatty part of her cheek. Like he said himself though, it wasn’t anything he had against her. It was Georgie. It was a warning. A brutal, cruel, violent, warning. But that’s what it was.

Nancy put on lipstick for the first time since, and smiled to herself in the mirror, pretending to be seeing someone on the street that she knew unexpectedly. That sort of, ‘Oh, hello, nice to see you!’

The kind that she used to avoid, then couldn’t escape. The thought of Keith or Kenny seeing her was bad enough, let alone anyone else.

The grocer, the butcher, the seamstress. Harry. Anyone in the pub. Anyone on the street. Anyone outside the Shelby home.

‘Morning, love,’ Polly greeted in the corridor, carrying up a pile of washing. ‘Bloody shop is packed already. It’s a wonder any of them have fucking jobs. I’m avoiding Tom and John. Don’t make eye contact. You’ll be roped into counting or adding or something else bloody awkward!’

Nancy chuckled and moved on, glancing into Finn’s room as she passed, finding him fixing his jacket. ‘Shouldn’t you be at school?’

He rolled his eyes. ‘It’s a day off.’

‘No, it isn’t,’ she replied, shaking her head. ‘Come on, I’ll make you some breakfast.’

‘I’ve got to run some jobs for John,’ he said, as if he were far too busy and far too important for her.

‘John should be doing his own jobs,’ Nancy told him as Finn gestured her down the stairs first, sighing at her in response.

‘He’s paying me to do some run abouts for him, so he can get home faster,’ then he leaned in to whisper, ‘Esme threw her shoe at him t’other day when I was round. She’s a mare.’

Slapping his arm as they reached the kitchen, Nancy tutted. ‘She’s probably as bloody stressed as the rest of us, dealing with those three. Plus, she’s the kids to look after too. Besides, does Tommy know?’

Finn shrugged, sitting at the table and pressing his finger onto the strands of tobacco scattered on the wood to pick them up, sprinkling them into a pile. ‘Figure he knows everything, if he’s got a problem he’ll say something.’

She couldn’t argue with the reasoning, and swiftly buttering him some toast and pouring him a milky cup of tea. He blew away the tobacco and gave her one of his winning grins of appreciation. Giving his shoulder a squeeze, Nancy turned back and set to work making another two cups of tea. One for herself and one for:

‘Scudboat,’ she murmured when she had slunk to him, sticking to the walls, keeping her head down. Her grin was automatic when he looked up at her in delight. His eyes flickered to the scar, and his expression faltered, but not to pity, but admiration.

Giving her a firm nod, he said, ‘Ey, Nancy love, it’s been a time.’

‘I heard you’d put a complaint in about the cuppas, thought I’d better come back. Tommy’d be lost without you, after all,’ she joked, setting his on the table for him and clinging to her own like a life line. She knew there were eyes on her, people trying to catch a glance, to see if it were her, to see if the rumours were true. But she kept her neck bent, her hair falling around her face to cover it.

Scud took a deep mouthful and nodded as he swallowed. ‘Bloody lovely, Nancy. Thanks, pet.’

‘Nancy Owen, that must be you,’ Matty greeted as he stepped to the table. It had quietened somewhat, men filing out in small groups or as singles, off to find the day. There were still enough around to hide her from Tommy, until Matty opened his stupid smiling mouth.

‘Hello, Matthew,’ she spoke, lifting her head and only briefly glancing to his eyes, catching his on her mouth, his own lips parted in surprise, and likely disgust. ‘You must be having an easy job of it, now you’ve not got bodyguard on your list of jobs.’

Luckily, or unluckily, depending on which way she thought of it, Tommy was stood some ways back in the room, a man talking to him, but his eyes on her. She looked at him instead of Matty, who gave a gentle response, something about rather be watching her than picking up extra hours in the factory. She smiled, but Tommy was patting the fellas shoulder, then moving to her, quickly assessing who she was speaking to and seeming to relax somewhat.

Scudboat smirked as Tommy scanned the room, watching for anyone looking at her, his girl.

His hand slipped with ease around her waist, without hesitation or question of it, and Matty took a natural step back, trying to hide his smile as he said, ‘Alright, boss?’

‘Just making sure you weren’t bothering my woman, Matthew,’ Tommy replied, but he looked to Nancy, reaching up and tucking her hair behind her ear so he could see her better. His expression was soft, just soft enough, as soft as he would wear it there in the shop. It made her cheeks burn.

Matty knew he hadn’t said it for his benefit. It was for Nancy. It was claiming her, there in the open. She knew it too.

‘He was being a perfect gentleman,’ Nancy assured Tommy, hiding in a sip of her tea. ‘I thought Scudboat deserved a proper cup of tea.’

Tommy nodded at the man, who waggled the cup at him. ‘He’ll work twice as fast now.’

Rolling his eyes, Scud went back to his scribbling.

Matty, stupidly, but kindly, asked, ‘Wasn’t for you then? London.’

She smiled, because it was the automatic thing that she did when anyone spoke to her. It was in a woman’s training to smile. ‘No, not for me.’

‘Suppose you went off and dragged her back, Tommy?’ he joked, tapping Tommy’s arm, who squeezed her and gave a gentle chuckle, shaking his head. ‘Either way, love, glad you’re back.’

‘Thank you, Matty,’ Tommy said for her, clapping him on the shoulder as Matthew tipped his hat and moved passed them to the door. Tommy looked down to Nancy, more animated, even though his voice was barely a whisper. ‘I thought you were acting suspicious this morning. Thought you were plotting an escape. Glad I was wrong.’

Smirking, and blushing like a fool, Nancy went half cross eyed looking up at him. ‘I thought it was time I spoke to someone outside the immediate family. And you do make a shit cup of tea. Couldn’t have the poor lad suffering.’

Huffing a laugh, Tommy rolled his eyes and gave her a fond smile before pressing his lips firming to her forehead. There was an uproar of cheers and claps, to which he turned her, his back to the room, chuckling down at her as his hands slipped to the sides of her neck, finger tips behind her ears. ‘Go next door, ey? I’ll come through soon and see you.’

‘You don’t want me here?’ she asked, holding his gaze.

‘I don’t want you bored, or feeling like you need to help, now go.’

‘I want to help.’

‘I don’t want you working.’

Nancy’s brows bent in distaste. ‘At all?’

Tommy looked over his shoulder, sighing and gripping her hips, guiding her through to the main house and leaning over her as she stood back against the wall, hands clenched to fists to keep them to herself. He breathed out of his nose, harsh and hot between them. ‘Not yet.’

‘I want my own money, Tommy. I want something to do,’ she murmured, feeling a sense of dread come over her. ‘I don’t mind doing it from back here if you’d rather I wasn’t – out there, in front of everyone.’

A click of his tongue and a breath of laughter left him, his forehead pressing against hers as he closed his eyes. ‘It’s not that. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to. I’ll give you anything you want.’

‘You just don’t want me saving up to run away again,’ she whispered, trying to stop her lips from twitching into a smirk as he opened his eyes to watch them.

Squinting a little at her, he warned, ‘You best be careful, Miss Owen.’

‘Are you threatening me, Mr Shelby?’ she asked, fingers reaching out to ever so gently brush against him, finding the edge of his lapel. ‘You’re going to have to be more clear.’

Tommy leaned down, eyes level with hers and inches away, his hands either side of her. His voice was dangerous, even in their play. ‘You, my love, are going to have to be more sure of things. I saw you in there, thinking I was going to be angry with you for being in the shop. And just now, thinking I’d not want you around. I want you everywhere, yeah? Everywhere I am. If it were up to me, I’d have eyes and hands on you at all times. It’s impractical, see, so I can’t. But don’t you for a second doubt it.’

Nancy could barely breathe, let alone speak.

‘Come on. Let’s go out.’

‘I – I-’ she stuttered as he stepped away, but then he stepped back, stepping into her, pushing her against the wall and gripping the back of her neck to pull her lips to his.

It wasn’t worth thinking about how many women Thomas Shelby must have kissed to be as good at it as he was. He was firm and soft all at once. Her body went numb and alight with it, feeling his hands in places that it was impossible for him to reach.

It wasn’t even a long kiss, but her mind and her heart stopped working. The latter chattered in her chest, fumbling over it’s beats like a horse pulled off kilter. He hadn’t kissed her like that before. Properly, front on, without fear of hurting her.

Finn came in the back door and gave a groan, disturbing them as he moved passed.

‘Come on,’ Tommy merely said, moving away and to the coat hangers, finding hers and holding it to her. He was completely unphased, it seemed, by the Earth-shattering event that had just happened to her. Her first real kiss since everything went wrong. She’d been glad of the few seconds of recovery, yet was still frozen in place at the thought of leaving.

‘Well, where are we going?’

‘Somewhere quiet,’ he said with a smile, a real smile, one that was beautiful but didn’t suit him at all. It was someone else’s, a Tommy who’d existed a long time ago. ‘Come on, love.’

__________

‘Alright, Danny,’ Tommy murmured around his cigarette as he lit it, watching Nancy crouch to clean off the gravestone. ‘How’s the afterlife, old friend?’

Nancy would have chuckled, if she weren’t trying to stop from sobbing. She’d not been to him in so long. She could only think of him lying there, all alone. Just like the day he was buried, she couldn’t imagine anything worse. If she ever died, she wouldn’t want to be buried alone in the cold ground.

She may have thought that she was well at hiding it, but Tommy could read her, even with her face turned away. He cleared his throat and said, ‘I’ll leave you to it, Nance.’

She stood up straight, giving him a nod as he moved away, noting which way he was going. She’d only just gotten back outside and now she was alone in it. A bit like Daniel.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she murmured and covered her eyes with her hands. ‘I’m so sorry I left you here. I’m so stupid, Daniel. I’m so cruel.’

Nancy took to her knees on his plot, tearing at her gloves to press her palms against the grass. Her breath heaved, soft whimpers escaping her. She just wanted to touch him, just once more to feel that warmth.

Her mother and father dying hadn’t been like this. Nothing like this.

Her fingers curled, digging into the soil ever so slightly, and it shocked her enough that she leaned back on her heels, covering her mouth with her hands and sobbing into them, her body lurching from the pain of it.

It still felt like he was there, in that fucking box. Locked away from her. It didn’t seem real again. She thought she’d gotten used to it, but she hadn’t.

But Dan was good, in amongst everything else. Daniel would be in heaven.

Nancy looked up to the sky and moved her hands, breathing in heavily, calming herself. Was he up there? Or was he beneath her in the soil where they’d buried him?

Either way, she felt like he’d seen everything. Yet, looking back to the stone, she covered her scar and told him, ‘I look a bit different now, Dan.’

Her nose and eyes stung with the soft surge of tears, but she cleared her throat and curved her legs to one side, not caring about the wet ground.

‘L – London was awful, Dan,’ she said, then with a sad chuckle added, ‘Don’t know how you put up with it.’

Nancy glanced around, checking where Tommy was. He stood some aways, reading a gravestone, sniffing and moving onto the next one with a harrowing look on his face. She looked back to Dan’s name in the stone, then her fiddling fingers in the grass.

‘Things are a bit different now. I don’t really know how. But this is my first day back outside. Tommy brought me here. He’s still looking after me, best he can. He – well.’

She swallowed harshly. Later she’d think about how stupid it probably was to be nervous to tell things to a dead man.

‘He made some mistakes, Dan. A good few. But only by meaning well? He means well. Like I say, he brought me here to you. First place I came. I haven’t been out in the air for a while. Been cooking and cleaning though. Fixed a few holes in the Shelby boy’s shirts and socks. Me and Pol are going to redecorate the bedrooms. Tommy – ah, well, he made a joke the other day. About knocking the walls through so me and him could have a bigger room. Together, see? Me and him together. Don’t know if you’d be cross about that or not.’

She chuckled in a breath out, shaking her head and wiping her tears. Daniel would go on about Tommy’s age, then about his work, then about the dangers. But then he’d get drunk, and he’d say, ‘My brother in arms and my sister!’ and hold them both close. He and Tommy would share a drink, and a quiet chat, grinning over at her and Tommy would wink to let her know it was all alright.

Polly would nudge her arm, telling her she’d been ridiculous to worry. The brothers would come along, and they’d be merry together. Then, when he found a quiet moment, Dan would find Nancy alone and give her a hug and a kiss atop her head. Squeezing her, saying, ‘It’s alright, Nancy. It’s alright.’

She’d probably cry then too.

‘I just wish I could see you,’ she murmured, caressing the ground as if she could touch him through it. She hoped she could, that God might make it that way. ‘I’ve an uglier scar than that one on your arm now.’

She was smirking, at it felt something like healing, to make a joke about it. No one had, not yet, not even her. But she felt something in her chest lighten.

If Tommy was close enough, he’d have frowned – what she knew to be one of his frowns - but he was far on the other side of the yard, lighting up a second smoke, tipping his hat to the yard keeper some ways away.

A shuffling of feet, then a scuff as they paused on the small stones, a light sniff and swallow.

Nancy turned to look, and there was a pool in the stones where John had span on his foot half way on the path and turned around, making his way away from them. She looked to Tommy with a confused glance, but he was glaring sharply at the back of his brothers retreating form, in a look so vicious it shocked her tears dry.

Tommy’s eye flickered towards her, his jaw flickering too, then giving her a nod before he turned again to read the grave at his feet.

Looking at Daniel again, Nancy sighed a little. ‘I’m going to have to go, Dan. I promise to come back though. Every week. I’m going to start coming to worship with Pol again. I hope you knew Polly. She knows you a little. I hope you knew her. She’s great – terrible sometimes too. But it’s all the same with the Shelby’s, isn’t it? Anyways. I love you still. Always will. That’s how it works, isn’t it? Yes. I suppose it is. Right.’

Tommy was making his way back to her as she rose, brushing off her dress and rubbing the dirt from her knees. He clutched her hand rubbing at the dirt there, shaking his head in big performance. ‘I’ll bring her a stool next time, ey, Danny?’

She chuckled, looking to the cold grey stone as if it would smile back at her, or roll it’s eyes. It didn’t, but it didn’t much matter either. Nancy stared into Tommy’s eyes, waiting for him to look to her, and when he did, he gave a soft smile. ‘Was that John – before?’

Scrunched nose, Tommy began to lead her out the yard. ‘See you, Dan.’

‘Tommy?’

‘Yes,’ he sighed, looking forward. ‘It was John.’

‘Well, what was he doing here? He’s not exactly God fearing, is he?’ she tried to lightly joke, and the corners of his mouth lifted in a pitiful smile.

‘No, he’s not. I don’t know, Nancy.’

When he looked at her, she could tell he was being honest. At least, she hoped that she could tell. If felt honest to her. It felt real.

His face brightened. ‘Come on, where to next, now you’re out, ey?’

‘Don’t you have things to do today?’

Tommy simply smiled his most mischievous grin, that young boy showing again behind his eyes, then pulled out two cigarettes as they walked back to the car and lit hers for her. He wouldn’t let her take it though, holding it between them, her gentle hand on his own as he asked, ‘Where to, love?’

Moving her hand to grip his wrist, twisting it to see his watch, she frowned. ‘Too early for the pub.’

‘Never too early. We own the pub.’

Nancy chuckled at that, and for some stupid reason, blushed a little too. Rolling her eyes, she asked, ‘Can I meet your Uncle Charlie?’

Tommy laughed, a great barking laugh, looking forward as he held the wheel, releasing her cigarette to her. He turned it over in his mind a moment. ‘You want to meet my Uncle Charlie?’

‘Family, aren’t I? Family should know family.’

If Tommy had ever smiled at her like that before, she’d surely remember it. His grin was small, but bright, his eyes wide and loving. His voice soft as he nodded, ‘Aye, that they should, my girl.’

She gave a pleased and beautiful smile, and he brushed his fingers to her cheek, then trailed them to the tips of her hair, twisting the last strands before he released them.

‘You’ll have to mind your shoes at the yard.’

‘You too,’ she said with a smirk when he glanced sideways at her. Tommy’s shoes where twice as nice as hers, and thrice as expensive.

With a bubbling laugh, shaking his head, he set off driving.

__________

The yard was quiet in one way, but not in another. There were people everywhere, but not in the same was as the street. Everyone was working, their heads down, busy. Unless they lifted them to make a joke, or greet a friend. Men wore scars, dirty clothes, spoke in grunts and grumbles. Barely a woman in sight.

She stuck out, she knew, eyes caught on her, but then they saw Tommy, and looked away, or tipped their hats. She wasn’t so interesting as Tommy was.

‘This must be Miss Owen, then?’ a man greeted, walking towards them, wiping his hands with a rag and holding one out to her that she shook lightly. His hands were rough and stained, but warm. You could tell a lot about a person by the hold of their hands, she always thought.

‘Nancy, this is my Uncle Charlie,’ Tommy introduced with a light smirk, rolling his eyes at Charlie’s grinning and gentlemanly behaviour. ‘And yes, Charlie. This is Nancy.’

‘Our Nancy, is it?’ he asked, getting a good look at her. ‘That’s how Arthur calls it, anyhow.’

‘It’s nice to meet you, Charlie,’ Nancy spoke, because Tommy was only gazing. She glanced over him, then gave Charlie a small smile. He’d eyed her mouth, but made no comment, only looked to Tommy with a grim expression.

Tommy’s eyes lifted to the muggy sky and back again, tightening his smile. ‘We’re having a walk around, Charlie.’

‘Aye, alright, Tom,’ he said, waving him off with a sigh, hands falling to his hips. ‘You watch your steps there, Nancy. All sorts lying around.’

‘He thinks I’m cleaner than I am,’ she said, chuckling and shaking her head as they walked along by the water.

‘He sees the same as everyone else,’ he said, moving her around a puddle with a touch to her waist, showing no sign of looking down to even notice it. Over aware, over observant, always. ‘I’ve another member of the family for you.’

Charlie was watching the pair with a frown, watching the young girls gentle steps and squinting at the patches of dirt on the side of her coat, the way Tommy’s hand stayed possessively at her waist. He’d seen him with women before, but not like this. ‘Looks like a larl injured bird,’ he muttered to one of the lads, who chuckled roughly.

He didn’t say the next part out loud, where he would question who’d clipped her wings. Because he knew. Everything Tommy touched either turned to dust or gold and with no in between.

‘Curly?’

Nancy watched the man pop his head out the door of the building he’d been working in, then step out totally with a grin on his face, lifting his hat lightly to her and greeting, ‘Morning, Tommy – Miss.’

‘Good morning,’ Nancy replied, holding out her hand and taking a step closer, because he’d kept his distance.

Curly looked at his hands, rubbing them on his coat. ‘My hands are too dirty for you, Miss.’

‘I can assure you, that they are not,’ she promised, giving her had a light wiggle at him.

‘She’ll not put it down,’ Tommy informed him, the words escaping around the cigarette that he lit.

Curly and Nancy shook hands, and shared names, to which he said, ‘Oh! Our Danny’s sister. I remember, Tommy.’

Nancy rose a brow, but Tommy merely smiled. ‘Why don’t you show Nance the kittens, Curly, while I have a chat with Charlie?’

She tried to be brave, but she couldn’t help looking at him with worry.

Tommy nodded back over to where Charlie could still be seen, then looked at her with a firm look. ‘I’ll be right where you see him. Curly will look after you.’

‘Oh, you’ll be fine with me, Miss Owen. Come on – they’re rightly soft,’ Curly bumbled, gesturing for her to follow into the building he’d come from.

Taking a breath, she followed, turning once to watch Tommy making his way to Charlie without so much as a glance back. That made her stomach clench a little, but it made her braver too. Tommy wouldn’t let her out of his sight if it wasn’t safe, she knew that.

‘Who’ve you got there, Curly?’ a man asked, voice turned in that tone of teasing.

Curly stood close, glaring. Nancy could barely make the other man out from the shadows of the room, but he was chuckling.

‘Tommy’s girl. He’s on the yard. I’m showing Miss Owen the cats,’ Curly said smugly, smirking when the chuckles stopped.

‘Right you are, Curly. Miss Owen,’ the voice said, and he tipped his hat and turned back to his work.

‘Come on,’ Curly whispered, taking her out the back door. There was a tiny half height shed built against it, about two foot high and three foot long. Curly crouched down and gestured for her to do the same, his excitement taking over the worry about getting her all dirty. He began sliding the door, whispering, ‘Found them a couple of weeks ago, meowing and crying. Thought the mammy had left them, but she came back. Just in time too, or Charlie would have made me throw ‘em into the cut.’

Nancy gasped, both at his words but also at the bundle of kittens in the shed, a few dirty old coats and blankets shoved in with them.

‘We gives them food, Charlie said not to at first, but I can’t help it,’ he said chuckling, then frowned at the mother cat who peered at them tiredly. ‘She’s got a sore foot – see? Won’t let me take a look at it though.’

‘They are so sweet,’ Nancy whispered. They were something clean and natural and good in such a smoggy, dirty place. All greys ands black. ‘Do you think she is okay?’

Curly grimaced, shaking his head. ‘Hoping when they get a bit bigger she will let me take a look.’

‘If she ever lets you hold them, you’ll have to let Tommy know and I’ll come around again,’ she said, setting a hand on his shoulder, which made him grin.

The pair watched the kittens in silence a while, the noise of the yard fading away. But the mother cat became fidgety, so Curly whispered, ‘Best leave her to it.’

They rose, Nancy brushing off her coat. ‘So, do you like working for Charlie – or is it Tommy you work for?’

Curly giggled at that. ‘Work for one, you work for them all. Work for you now too. Tommy says so.’

‘When did he say that?’ she asked, lips in an amused smile but eyes in a frown.

‘Can’t remember rightly the day, but Tommy – he said you were his girl now. As good as any Shelby. That we’re all to look out for you the same as we would any of them – more so – he said. More so.’

To avoid the feeling of her swelling heart, she chuckled, shaking her head and wrapping her arms around herself from the cold as they walked the long way back around the yard. ‘Not much to watch out for – I barely go anywhere I’m afraid, Curly.’

He frowned, shaking his head. ‘Tommy said that too. Just to me – just the other night. Said he would try bringing you here one day. Said he want’s to buy you a dog too.’

‘A dog?’

‘Oh, I’ve spoiled it, haven’t I?’ Curly asked, eyes all worried. ‘You won’t tell him, will you, Miss Owen? Don’t tell him I spoiled it.’

Patting his arm reassuringly, Nancy chuckled, shaking her head. ‘I wont. I just wasn’t aware he spoke much about me, is all. Or spoke to anyone much at all.’

Curly clicked his tongue, tapping fingers to his temple and squinting down at her. ‘Tommy is thinking I don’t listen to him when it’s all dark and he’s thinking out loud to me. But I do. I do.’

It was a relief to her, that Thomas Shelby had someone to speak to. Someone he trusted to some extent. So she smiled, shaking her head. ‘It’s been so lovely to meet you, Curly. Do you like animals?’

‘Love them. Horses the best. Tommy says I’ll be having plenty of horses to look after,’ he said, nodding towards Tommy and Charlie, puffing his chest out and rubbing his dirty hands over his rib cage as he continued chattering to her.

Nancy listened, laughing properly at moments Curly didn’t realise he was being funny, making his grin anyways, all bashful. Then he was showing her things, things she’d never need to think of at all or know anything about. But he was excited, and started touching her arm, presenting things to her that she took great interest in for him.

Tommy watched on, smiling softly, and Charlie watched him, trying to read him.

‘What are you doing, Tommy?’

He didn’t turn to his Uncle, not until his smile had dropped and his face was blank. Then he gazed at Charlie’s grim expression.

‘That girl looks fresh out of school as well as a war. Her face-’

‘Watch it, Charlie,’ he warned, light but sharp.

Sighing, shaking his head, Charlie continued, ‘What are you going to do with her? Marry her? You’re making out like she’s already your missus, have been for a long time. She’s a bonny lass, Tommy. But not so long back you cut a man up for talking to her wrong – had the lads guarding her. She’s better protected than any fucking contraband you’ve got moving through this yard. Why?’

Tommy was shaking his head, chuckling under his breath. ‘This isn’t an argument you want to have with me, Charlie. How about you pick another one today, ey?’

‘How about you take a good long look at that girl and think about how bonny she’ll be after you’re finished with her. One scar’s not so bad, Tom. But how many are you planning on her getting?’

‘I said fucking watch it!’

Nancy and Curly both flinched, twisting to see Tommy pointing at Charlie, who merely sighed, shaking his head. Nancy touched Curly’s arm, moving to step away, but he gripped her elbow softly, shaking his head. But she was determined.

Tommy could hear her heels against the stone and lowered his hand. ‘This is settled, yes?’

Charlie’s tongue rolled around against his cheek, and he nodded. ‘Sorted, Tommy, aye.’

Tommy sighed, then looked to Nancy who smiled softly, saying, ‘I think I’m ready to go, Tommy.’

He nodded, guilt in his eyes. He’d finally got her out the house then ruined it.

‘It’s lovely to meet you, Charlie. Hope we’ll see each other again?’

‘Of course, love. You take care, now,’ he said pointedly, giving her a tight smile then looking to Tommy defeatedly, who gave him a firm nod back.

He set his hand firmly on her shoulder as she waved and grinned to Curly. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s alright.’

‘I shouldn’t have fetched you here,’ he murmured, running his hands through his hair once they were sat in the car.

‘Well,’ Nancy sighed, rolling her head on the backrest, looking to him, ‘I had a lovely time. Curly is perhaps the best of all of us.’

Tommy couldn’t help but smile at her grin. ‘He’s loyal, and smart about the things he cares about. He was excited to meet you. Promised I’d fetch you down.’

‘Well, I’ve told him I’ll fetch him a cake tomorrow – I hope you don’t mind?’

Hand stroking the back of her head, he pulled her forehead to his. ‘You’re an angel, Nancy.’

‘Are you saying no?’

Eyes closed, he replied, ‘Don’t come down here on your own.’

‘Did Charlie not like me?’

‘You’ll be fine on the yard, it’s the walking to and from I’m worried about,’ he said, sighing and pulling away to start up the car.

‘So – he didn’t?’

‘It’s not you that Charlie has a problem with,’ he said as they pulled out, his eyes avoiding hers as he turned to look back, then looked out both sides.

‘Well I can’t imagine anyone ever having a problem with you, Thomas Shelby.’

‘You’d be surprised, Miss Owen,’ he replied, sending her a soft smirk, leaning over and squeezing her thigh when she didn’t look up and grinning when she did. ‘Charlie likes to tell me the truth. Sometimes I don’t want to hear it, is all.’

Nancy didn't really know what to say to that, and could tell Tommy was at his limit for sharing. So instead, she sighed, 'Well, you will have to take Curly his cake, with my apologies.'

It was almost like a drug, the way she made him grin. Euphoric joy every time she opened her pretty little mouth to him.

He grinned so hard that he looked away, and Nancy lowered her eyes, feeling like it was something private. Whatever thought's he was having were his, and he'd give them to her when he was good and ready.

After all, who was she to disturb the sun, shining from a man who was most usually the darkest night?

Chapter Text

‘Morning, Miss Owen.’

Nancy gave the Peaky boys a smile, stepping around them with her tray and into the shop, beelining for Scudboat. She’d managed to make him a cup of tea every day, and usually stuck around to chat as long as there wasn’t too many people around. It was good practice for the things to come.

Today she was going to the seamstress to pick up a dress for Polly and to find Jamie a birthday gift. She had half a mind to visit Keith at the tailors for a waistcoat or cap, but only if she couldn’t possibly find anything else. He was still only young. He didn’t have to get quite so serious as Finn yet, and John surely made sure that he was all suited and booted all the time.

‘Off out?’ Scud asked, nodding to her coat. She was lingering, holding the tray in front of her like a service maid even though he had half his cup down.

‘Oh, yeah. Spot of shopping,’ she said, smiling kindly to his small sympathetic smile. ‘You don’t have any ideas for a little boy’s birthday, do you?’

Scud scrunched his nose, then nodded to a large type man over by Arthur, who stood with his hands on his ribs, stretching and yawning. ‘Micky owns the toy shop – he’s a nice fella, go over and ask him. He’ll be happy to do you the favour.’

‘Oh, I don’t want a favour,’ she said, but he gave a raised brow, so she squinted.

Scudboat was more than aware of her game, lingering on the side-lines of the room and speaking to only those she absolutely had to. ‘Off with you – Arthur!’

‘Bloody good morning to you, Nancy!’ Arthur said, noticing her for the first time. ‘Slunk in, did ya?’

She tapped Scudboat on the arm with the tray as she passed him and made way to Arthur who slung and arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. ‘Morning, Arthur.’

‘Good morning, my lovely, you off out?’

She could almost cringe at his tactlessness, but swallowed and smiled instead. ‘Off for a present for Jamie off me and Tommy. Was told that I could speak to this gentleman about a toy?’

Micky fixed his jacket, giving a determined nod. ‘I’ve just the thing, love. Them scrappy larl lads are always hanging around outside me shop. I know what they’d go for. Come on, I’ll see you round.’

Her mouth opened to protest, but Arthur gave her a smile and a firm pat on the back of encouragement. ‘You see her right, Mick. Bye, love.’

‘Bye,’ she called, trying to give a subtle glare, but Arthur was in one of his moods. The moods where he’s floating about the spot, looking busy without getting much done. He’d be in the pub by the time she got home, she knew that much.

Scudboat received a weary glance, but he pretended not to notice and tipped his hat to her, bidding Toy-Shop-Micky a farewell too.

‘This is very kind of you, Mr…?’

‘Just Micky, pet. Not a bother at all. Your fella has done much for my family. Loaned me the money to get fixed up when we had the fire – let me pick up some extra work on the side when me wife was having the third little tyke. Not a bit of bother helping out a Shelby – or half a one, anyways.’

She chuckled at that, keeping up easily with his heavy march. She knew the shop wasn’t far, and soon found herself inside. Puppets hung around her, metal cars on shelves, dolls lining the walls. ‘Gosh.’

‘All this is good, but it’s these the boys are after nowadays,’ he said, pulling a cylinder down from a shelf behind his desk. ‘Sticks and blocks for building. Tinkertoy. Can build a house, a car, a palace, anything they like. What do you think?’

‘I think that it is better than wrestling and seeing who can hit who the hardest,’ Nancy said with a smirk, inspecting the box. ‘Can I take two?’

Micky gave a pleased, proud, nod and began wrapping them up. He plucked a bag of sweets from the counter, giving her a wink before he slipped them into the wrapping paper for her too. When she was all rung up, he said, ‘Have a blessed day, Miss Owen.’

It seemed so out of character for him, that she really thought that he meant it. So, she beamed a smile, only for his eyes to flicker to the scar. Her lips drew smaller, and she gave him a nod before retreating from his forced smile.

She already had a card, written and ready, so she took a breath and made way for John’s. She hadn’t been back there since the night they’d – no, since the night before his wedding. Her legs felt wobbly and out of her control as she made way there, taking shallow breaths and trying to ignore the sweat on her palms.

She knocked three times, praying that no one would be home, or only one of them. She wasn’t sure what would be more awkward – Esme, or John. Both would be the worst. John was fine with her in public, but alone, in his house?

It wasn’t even worth thinking about, because Esme opened the door, greeting her with a flat expression. Not flat like Tommy. Flat like someone who was about to smile and changed their mind.

‘Good morning, Esme. I’ve brought a present for Jamie, is he home?’ Nancy asked, though the tightness of her throat was strangling the breath from her, so her voice came out as a strained and pathetic sound.

Esme eyed her for a moment, looking her over. ‘He wouldn’t go to school.’

‘That sounds about right,’ she said with a soft smile. ‘I can just give them to you, and you can give them to him when he’s stopped playing up, if you like?’

Esme sighed a little, taking in a big breath and stepping back, opening the door for Nancy to enter. She didn’t want to. She really didn’t want to. But she stepped over the threshold, meeting Esme’s eye a moment, who looked like she could tell exactly what happened the last time that Nancy was in the house.

She didn’t hide the way she inspected Nancy’s scar either, open and gazing.

‘Tea?’ Esme asked, picking up the burning cigarette from the tray beside the door and inhaling deeply.

‘Oh, no thank you. I’ve not long had one,’ she declined softly, glancing around the room. Everything seemed tidier, as well as cleaner. Maybe it was the open curtains brightening the space, or maybe it was because it was a family home now, with a good woman taking care of it. Either way, it both warmed and shook her.

‘Nancy?’ a voice called from upstairs, followed by the rushed padding of feet across the landing and then thundering down the stairs. ‘Nancy!’

‘Happy Birthday!’ she said, catching Jamie in her arms as he ran to her. ‘Oh, you feel bigger!’

‘You feel smaller!’ he countered, squeezing, breathing her in. ‘I’ve missed you.’

‘It hasn’t been so long,’ she said, crouching to touch his face, his hair. ‘You should be at school?’

His eyes brushed over her mouth, her cheek, and back to her eyes. ‘It’s my birthday.’

‘We are all well aware of that,’ Esme said, rolling her eyes but not without a hint of fondness in them.

Jamie smirked with mischief at Nancy, who revealed his gift to him.

‘I got you a second one, so you might share with Teddy if he wants to play,’ she said, then added with an extra smile, ‘Tommy helped me pick. It’s from both of us.’

Jamie was even more pleased with his gift then, and clutched the boxes to his chest with one arm, pulling her in for another hug with the other. ‘Is Tommy here?’

‘I don’t know where he is today,’ she answered honestly, with a dishonest chuckle, touching his hair. ‘Have you been to see Kenny?’

‘No, Esme cuts it now,’ Jamie answered, giving the onlooking women a small smile and then looking to Nancy, touching the tips of her hair. ‘Yours is growing again. Good.’

She laughed, keeping her smile as his finger tips moved to touch her face, her scar.

‘Jamie,’ Esme warned, but Nancy met his eyes.

‘It’s alright,’ she murmured. ‘It doesn’t hurt anymore. Did for a while.’

‘Da said you had an accident. That we weren’t to say anything if we saw you,’ Jamie confessed, brows quirking in apology. ‘You’re still very beautiful.’

‘Jamie,’ Esme repeated, but firmer. ‘Go on upstairs to play.’

‘I haven’t seen Nancy for ages!’ he argued, glaring at her. A real manly glare, borrowed from his father.

Esme looked like she was about to snap, and Nancy knew she should have stayed quiet, but on instinct said firmly, ‘Jamie. You shouldn’t talk back, especially not to Esme. Does she do your cooking? Your cleaning? Look after you when you’ve something wrong?’

He grit his teeth, lips pursed.

‘Yes, she does. So you should be kind – and polite. Don’t you think?’ she asked, giving him a wide eyed look when he didn’t reply.

‘He knows how to behave,’ Esme told her in defence, arms crossed and eyes squinted. ‘Say goodbye, Jamie. Now – before I take all your presents off you.’

He opened his mouth to snap back, but Nancy had put a hand on his elbow, keeping him facing her. She gave him a disappointed look, shaking her head. ‘I’ll shout you when I’m leaving.’

‘Say goodbye now,’ Esme told him, but her eyes were on Nancy.

Jamie gave Nancy an extra squeeze in apology, then kissed her cheek, murmuring a ‘thank you’. Once he had disappeared up the stairs, Nancy rose and faced Esme, who had flushed cheeks and dark eyes.

‘I’d appreciate you not coming in here and interfering. I know you used to mind them sometimes for John, but it’s not alright for them to listen to you and not to me,’ Esme blurted out, angry and without filter.

‘I didn’t mean to come over that way, Esme. I was just surprised when he was so rude, I thought I was helping-’

‘Well, I don’t want your help! And don’t need it either,’ she practically spat. ‘All day I’ve had it back and forth with that boy and you come in like some shining princess and he falls at your feet, all smiles and politeness.’

‘Esme-’ Nancy tried again, feeling her own frustration brewing, but it was outweighed by her disbelief. The kids were right, she was a bloody mad woman.

‘Princess Nancy! I know what you really are, don’t forget it was my family you came to that day in the fields,’ Esme finished, sneering at her. ‘Get out of my house and stay away from my children.’

A thousand nasty, cruel, bitter, words sat on Nancy’s tongue. But she swallowed them. At least until she was stepping out the front door:

‘I’d rather be a wanted whore than an unwanted wife.’

It was childish, and minor in comparison to the things she really wanted to say – about her, about John, about the kids, and about the Lee’s. Even more childish when she slammed the front door behind her before Esme could answer her.

Completely riled, she marched her was to the seamstress and tore open the door.

‘Good morning, Miss Owen,’ the girl greeted, setting down whatever she’d been writing. ‘How can I help you today?’

She knew her cheeks were red, and hoped she looked cold rather than angry. ‘Is my account still open?’

‘Mr Shelby’s account for you?’ the girl asked carefully, smiling and nodding when Nancy confirmed. ‘Of course, Miss Owen. Would you like to look at anything in particular today?’

She stopped short, taking a breath. ‘I’m not sure really,’ she said, chuckling and shaking her head. ‘I just feel like I need something – does that make sense?’

The girl grinned. ‘Of course. If I may, we’ve had something new come in, that may just be right?’

Nancy nodded for the girl to show her suggestions, adding on about picking up Polly’s dress, then sighed, fixing her hair in one of the mirrors and patting her face, trying to look and feel normal again.

The girl came out with a grin and a small bundle of folded silks.

__________

Polly was in her usual afternoon position in front of the oven, cigarette in one hand and spoon in the other. ‘Oh, what a darling you are,’ she said in greeting when Nancy carried in the boxes from the seamstress. ‘You’ve been gone a while – hey, that looks like more than a dress and a child’s toy! I was about to call the military, get a search out. Turns out you’ve just bought half of Birmingham.’

‘Oh shush,’ Nancy argued lightly, separating Polly’s box from her own then rifling through the two other bags. ‘Here, I got us a new red each.’

Polly opened the lipstick and gave it a smile, nudging Nancy’s arm. ‘What’s brought this on? You’re not usually a spend thrift.’

Nancy hummed, handing Polly another package. ‘Sweets for you too.’

‘Nancy,’ Polly laughed, astonished. ‘Can’t get you to leave the bloody house one day, the next you’ve spent all your pocket money off Tommy in one day.’

Nancy kept her eyes on the box and the bags, unpacking a couple of other household things she’d picked up and setting her own new things on the box. ‘I did get Jamie his toy. Delivered it myself. Couldn’t decide if I wanted John or Esme to be in. But John’s obviously busy like Tom.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah,’ she replied, finally giving Polly a glance as she took out a cigarette, going through the motions of lighting it and setting the case down on the table in long drawn out actions, trying to settle herself into sharing the story in a way that wouldn’t rile Polly into an arms up.

‘Was she a cow?’ she asked, leaning against the counter, touching Nancy’s purchases, straightening out the lipstick beside the box of chocolates.

‘She told me to stay out of her house, and away from her children,’ she finally announced with a fake smile to Polly’s risen brows. Nancy told her the story back, watching Polly’s face get more and more twisted as she went, until finally, she gave a humourless laugh and shook her head.

‘I can’t wait to tell Ada. She’d put her windows through if they weren’t John’s – well, if they weren’t the kids,’ Polly said, shaking her head. ‘How did you leave it?’

Nancy grimaced.

‘It can’t be that bad – unless – you didn’t pot the windows did you? We know you’ve a habit of that.’

Nancy slapped Polly’s arm, rolling her eyes. ‘Told her I’d rather be a wanted whore than an unwanted wife then slammed the door. Then I went to the seamstress and put all those things on Tommy’s account. Then the cosmetic stand. Then the sweet shop. Even bought a cake and ate it on the way home.’

Polly’s jaw slung open, an impressed look on her face. Then she was smiling, wider and wider, then softly, with pride said, ‘And all with that scar on your face and all those big bad men in the world, ey? Good day for you, my love.’

Nancy smiled. It was true that she’d forgotten her face the moment she’d slammed the door to John’s house. Forgotten anything really but her rage, and Tommy. He was always there.

‘Don’t worry about Esme. She started it. And if John tries to finish it, I’ll finish him – if you or Tommy don’t get to him first,’ Polly decided, then gave her a smirk. ‘I’m guessing you want to go get whatever is in that box on before Thomas gets home?’

Nancy blushed. She’d been a different person when she bought the lingerie. ‘He doesn’t deserve it today, after disappearing on me this morning, never to return.’

‘Yes, well, he returned and left again while you were out. Looking all dark and brooding. Didn’t stop to ask him what he was up to – I’d rather not know most days,’ Polly said, checking on her pots.

‘We both know that is a hideous lie, Pol. You’re as nosey as they come, especially when it comes to Shelby business.’

Polly threw her head back, laughing loudly. ‘Take all that upstairs, stop giving me lip or you’ll be to bed with no supper.’

Nancy stuck her tongue out, but then gave her a grin, chuckling as she made way for her room. Her old room, where she’d hide her box until Tommy was deserving.

She slid it under the bed, next to a suitcase she was keeping some of her other things in, and twittered around hanging up her coat and brushing out her hair. She unpackaged her new lipstick and rose to the mirror, putting it on with careful precision.

She was just pulling away, pressing her lips together rolling them apart, revealing the stark red colour, when she heard a new voice downstairs. She listened a while, silent, staring at her brightened mouth, until she realised it was Freddie.

It was strange for him to come alone, so Nancy moved back down to the kitchen. ‘Afternoon, Freddie. Ada not with you?’

‘She’s got Karl – doesn’t want to bring him out. Refusing to take him to the doctor,’ he repeated what he’d told Polly, who was writing down instructions for him. ‘Don’t know what the bloody problem is. She’s used the doctor a thousand times before.’

‘What’s wrong with Karl?’ Nancy asked, frowning at Polly’s scribbling, then more so when she started moving around the kitchen, rattling jars and tins in search of something.

‘He’s got a cough, bad cough. Hacking, you know,’ Freddie said, picking up the paper and reading with a look of disbelief and disgust. ‘Vinegar – liquorice? Are you joking?’

‘I don’t joke about that precious baby, Freddie Thorne. Here’s your liquorice. Boil it with the vinegar – 10 minutes. Keep it moving. Then add in the honey and a squeeze or two of lemon. Just give him a spoonful when the cough plays up, and especially before bed,’ Polly ordered, handing him a jar and giving him a grave look. ‘Don’t just fucking stare at me – you asked, I gave. Your turn again, you’ve got to take it and piss off home before that baby gets any sicker. And a thank you wouldn’t go amiss!’

Freddie took the jar, but glanced to Nancy, as if to silently ask if he was imagining things. But she simply shrugged, so he sighed, eyes scanning the instructions again. ‘Will Ada go for this?’

‘Ada will do as she’s bloody told. Not very often she’ll ask for help – you must know that,’ Polly said to Freddie, who could only agree.

He thanked her, then gave Nancy an affectionate squeeze of the arm when she said, ‘If you need anything I’ll come round – even if it’s just to watch him while she has a bath or a sleep.’

‘You’re a sweetheart, Nancy,’ Freddie said, moving through the door to come face to face with an old friend. ‘Tommy.’

‘You talking sweet to my women, Freddie?’

Freddie rolled his eyes, chuckling when Tommy smirked.

‘Baby got a cough?’ Tommy asked, nodding to the liquorice. His mouth twitched at Freddie’s tired, incredulous look. ‘That’ll fix him right up. He’ll have stronger lungs than any athlete.’

‘So I’ve been told. Cheers, Tom,’ Freddie sighed, giving him a nod and making his way home, tucking the jar inside his coat so no one would think him as barmy as he thought the Shelby’s were.

‘Hello, love,’ Tommy greeted warmly, grabbing Nancy where she stood close to the back door and kissing her temple. ‘Smells good, Pol.’

She hummed in response, rolling her eyes. She didn’t have to say it, she’d said it enough times. That it was nice of him to show face just in time for a meal.

Tommy touched a thumb to the centre of Nancy’s bottom lip, eyes inspecting the red shade, then meeting hers in a silent compliment before he released her. ‘Busy day, I apologise.’

‘Busy for your angel there, too.’

Nancy gave Polly a flat look, but she wasn’t looking. She could feel it though, Nancy could tell by the way her brows rose even higher than usual.

‘Good. Busy is good,’ Tommy spoke, hanging his coat and his hat. ‘Can’t wait for the bloody weather to warm.’

Polly turned on her heel, knuckles against her hips. ‘Have you spoken to your bloody brother?’

Tommy pressed his lips together at her outburst, trying not to give a tired sigh. ‘Which one?’

Nancy felt his fingers brush against her spine, his chest flush to her shoulder, his lips upon the side of her head, pressing a few kisses there and breathing her in after a day away.

Polly was back to her stirring, but said, ‘Well there are three to pick from, and Arthur is asleep under a newspaper next door. So it’s fifty fifty for you.’

Tommy sighed against Nancy’s hair, fingers gripping at her waist. It wasn’t a sexual thing, but it was intimate, the way he was holding her. He had view of the person approaching the back door and murmured, ‘Well, here comes fifty now.’

John was flushed, visibly irritated, as he closed the door behind him and took off his coat. ‘Alright if I eat here?’ he asked, eyes having passed over Tommy and Nancy through the door, and now focusing on Polly as if they weren’t even in the room.

Polly rose a brow at him. ‘If you’re here to cause trouble, John Shelby.’

‘Already caused enough at home, thanks,’ he grumbled, getting himself and Tommy a glass and pouring two drinks. Tommy moved to pick his up, and both brothers glanced at Nancy, though John’s eyes moved swiftly away, tipping his glass back and pouring another. ‘Where’s Arthur?’

‘Perhaps he’s swallowed his own tongue or choked on his own vomit,’ Polly suggested tiredly as she began to plate up. ‘Go get Finn off the street, will you?’

Tommy stepped out the room, giving Nancy a nod on his way passed. She glanced at John, catch his eye. His eyes caught on her reddened lips for a flicker of time, but returned to hers only more apologetic.

‘She clear you out, then?’ Polly asked quietly as she set a plate in front of him, looking to Nancy who scrunched her nose in discomfort.

‘Cleared myself out. Kids had already eaten without me. Told larl lad I’d take him out for the day tomorrow for his birthday so I’ll be going back tonight – sofa or not.’

Nancy took her seat, fixing Tommy’s plate just how he liked it before adding her own gravy and vegetables. She didn’t want to assume it was about her. Even though she knew it had to be. It was just too much to acknowledge it before he did.

Besides, it did not seem so far outside the realms of possibility that he and Esme had found something else to disagree upon in the last few hours.

‘You should be with him on his birthday,’ Polly sighed with disappointment, but touched his shoulder. She knew it was hard for him, had always been hard for him. But she wanted to rattle him for it all the same.

‘I’ll make it right tomorrow,’ John mumbled back, eyes on his plate.

Finn rushed in, face red from his play and roughly shoving his jacket and hat on the hook near the door, taking his seat by Nancy while Tommy stepped to the other side of her. Finn grinned at John, despite his grim expression. ‘Jamie said you were getting a right lashing before.’

‘Finn,’ Polly warned, but John was already pointing a firm finger at him across the table, enough to shut the boy up and put fear in his eyes.

‘And he’s going to get a lashing for talking shit on the street about me – and that’s thanks to you,’ John told him, giving him a bored look with Finn rolled his eyes. ‘Little shits.’

‘Hey!’

‘That’s enough,’ Polly warned, looking to Tommy. But he was focused on his glass, watching the liquid inside as he chewed.

He chewed far longer than needed, then, in an over exaggerated move, started cutting up another bite. Without a look to him, he asked, ‘How’ve you upset the wife, John?’

John sighed, and made the mistake of looking to Nancy.

Tommy’s eyes lifted, following his brother’s gaze to the helpless expression on Nancy’s face. If it were anyone else, Tommy would have cracked a joke. But the air between them all was not yet clean for him. So he stayed silent, and waited it out. He knew people couldn’t cope with the silence. They revealed more the less that you asked of them.

‘Me and Esme had a small back and forth today as well,’ Nancy shared softly. ‘I overstepped with Jamie. He was being rude to her, so I told him off, is all. I should have let her handle it. Sorry if that caused problems for you, John.’

He gave her a tilted shake of the head, his foot tapping lightly under the table.

‘You talk like a politician,’ Polly told her, pointing her fork and becoming all animated. ‘That girl was a witch to our Nancy. Uncalled for. We did think you’d be showing up here all guns blazing to handle it, mind.’

‘No,’ John said, suddenly chuckling, ‘Think Nancy handled it alright herself, really. By the sounds of things. That’s why Esme’s still spitting fire about it.’

‘She’s your wife, John,’ Tommy said to John’s smirk, reminding him.

His brother’s glare was soft, but it was there none the less. ‘And who made her it, Tommy?’

Nancy stiffened.

‘What was it, Nancy? Better a wanted whore?’ John said, not unkindly.

Nancy couldn’t bare to look to Tommy, feeling his gaze burning into the side of her head. She sheepishly said, ‘I saw red. I’m sorry. Really, I am. It’s not like me.’

‘We know that,’ Polly sighed, filling her glass and topping up Nancy’s before leaning back in her chair to lounge now she was sure there would be no outbursts. ‘Wish you were more like it.’

Nancy smirked at that, sipping her drink, stealing a glance at Tommy from behind the rim of her cup. He’d stopped eating, and was looking down at her food, but his eyes glazed over in thought. She licked her lips, pressing her foot softly against his calf. But he gave no response, other than to sit straight in his seat, clearing his throat and taking a drink.

No one really knew what to say after that, until John thanked Polly for the meal and Finn started siding the plates up while Polly filled the sink.

‘Right, I’m off to make amends – possibly,’ John said with a sigh, kissing Polly’s cheek and ruffling Finn’s hair. He nudged a knuckle on Nancy’s arm with a smirk. ‘Talk to the kids all you like, ey, princess?’

She forced a tight smile, tensing much the same as the man beside her did. ‘See you, John.’

‘Can I walk him home and come back again?’ Finn asked Polly, who flicked him with her tea towel in response, chasing him out the door.

Polly clinking pans and plates was the only sound for a while, until Tommy finally tipped back the last of his drink and sniffed, gazing at the table in surprise. He cleared his throat, then rose, moving through to the wet room and closing the door.

The water switching on was a good sign. He’d be relaxed after a bath, always was.

‘Best go put it on,’ Polly sang to her in warning. ‘John wants a good hiding.’

Tommy had always wound John up though, and the other way around. But she was never really John’s like she was Tommy’s, after all.

‘I’ll be seeing Arthur home. You’re free to kill each other or to f-’

Nancy’s chair scraped against the tiles and she shot Polly’s smirk an open glare as she moved from the room. ‘You’re not funny,’ she called over her shoulder, only to hear a cackle in response.

But there she found herself, stood in the spare room, having a quickly as she could changed into the new lingerie. A lace and silk bra, with matching shorts. The slip over the top to match, and a new silk robe. All stark white.

She fixed her lipstick too, and tied the robe tight around her before making her way back to the bedroom she shared with Tommy, hearing the front door open and close. She peaked out of the window, seeing Polly and Arthur, arms linked, walking up the street towards his house.

Laying on the bed, she grabbed a book, and tried to focus on the pages, listening to any sign of Tommy coming up the stairs.

Barely breathing, light headed with nerves and freezing.

Chapter Text

She felt almost like she had all those months ago, when she’d first been around Tommy and his ever dominating presence. She was afraid, of all the silly things to feel. She felt like she was guilty, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.

She knew Tommy wouldn’t hurt her. He might shout – so might she. But she didn’t know why then her chest felt so tight, her heart beating so swiftly it hummed. She felt a bit like how she used to feel when the rain would be starting up, and Daniel was having a few drinks.

He would be peaceful for hours, silent and content. But those hours were torture for her. It was the unknown. Waiting to see if he’d go to bed, or if she’d suddenly hear a lamp hit the wall, or a fist. Those hours were more frightening than anything he’d do to her.

This was the same, waiting for Tommy to come up the stairs. Worst part would be if he never did. He might just leave, or stay in the spare bedroom. It would be a relief if he came in and chewed her out over that. Even if –

No.

Tommy wouldn’t ever hit her, wouldn’t ever hurt her, not like that. He was a master of pain, but he’d never put a hand to her.

Nancy wiped a couple of silly tears from her eyes. She’d been holding her breath to try and keep them in. Like a foolish little girl waiting for her father to tell her off for embarrassing him. And she had embarrassed him. Carrying on like that with his brothers wife, then the conversation at the dinner table, it was just -

She stood, checking her face once more in the mirror, fixing her hair. Then there was a creak on the stairs and she leapt back onto the bed, sitting on the edge of it, half on top of her hands, gazing at the door as the handle twitched.

Tommy tapped the door open with his knee, carrying a towel in his hands, still rubbing his hair. He was topless, his trousers pulled on but undone. Her eyes caught on the opening, not wanting to look at his just yet. She felt like she was waiting on the bed, back at the brothel. The first night she had a visitor. John. The first time.

For the first time in a long time, she felt untouched – clean - new.

‘Hi, Tommy,’ she finally murmured, her voice in a rasp.

Tommy’s gaze was heavy. The void behind his eyes had been filled with something she couldn’t dare name. ‘Polly gone out?’

Nancy rose, nodding her head, feeling the pressure building in her chest and in her cheeks. Tears, trying to rise. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t chance her emotions showing. She couldn’t cry to him when she’d been the one to upset him, it wasn’t fair. She was supposed to be apologising, making it up to him, explaining.

It hadn’t missed her notice, the way Tommy had flickered his eyes over her, only shortly. He looked unsure too. Like he hadn’t known what to expect of her when he came upstairs. It certainly wasn’t the way that she dipped down, taking to her knees before him, her pale hands reaching to the open fastening of his trousers.

‘Nancy,’ he said thickly, like honey clagging his mouth half closed, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. As she pulled down, her eyes met his and he felt his stomach clench.

Nancy took the heavy breath he let out as her consent and pulled away his underwear, keeping her eyes on his for two reasons. Firstly, because she was afraid, she couldn’t bare to look. Secondly, because she wanted to be sure she was pleasing him. She had imaged him a thousand separate ways with a look of extasy on his face. She knew how he looked when he was happy, angry, bored, pretending.

She needed to know it was real, that he wanted it. That she was doing well for him.

But there were memories in the back of her mind, of other men, lying sprawled on beds, hands firm on the back of her head, pushing her down. Holding her down. Acidic taste and tears in her eyes.

Tommy wouldn’t have to hold her down.

She placed a carful hand on one of his hips, feeling like that was perhaps the most intimate touch they’d shared all along. Her other hand untied the knot of her robe, letting it fall open to reveal the silk and lace beneath. Then it reached to touch him.

He gasped, ever so softly, like when you catch your arm for half a second on a hot iron, or stub your toe on a corner. Then he blew out, slow and steady.

‘Nancy-’

Gentle lips parted around him, lips he’d barely even kissed. They felt foreign to him, like something he’d never felt. Then suddenly, all too swiftly, felt like they’d always been there. The pressure of a soft tongue, the heat and wetness. The hand ahead of them, gaining confidence as it moved around him.

The moan that she heard sent a thrill through her, all systems flushing hot. Feeling the head of his cock brush the first time against the back of her mouth, edging closer to her throat, made her sigh around him. Her own thighs were squeezing, trying to scratch at the sensation of need budding between her legs.

Tommy’s hand fell heavily on the top of her head, and her eyes opened in fear that he’d smooth his palm down to the back of her head and push. But he didn’t. He looked down at her, lips parted, gaze half lidded, noises escaping him in small rasps that she’d never heard from him before and that she’d never enjoyed from anyone else – almost.

Confidence bloomed, seeing him torn open for her. Vulnerable. She removed her hand, and pushed herself. Too fast and harsh at first, having to swallow a shock of saliva that rushed from her throat. Then again, softer, but deepening.

‘Fuck-’

She remembered to open her eyes, to look at him. His fingers lightly hooked along her scalp, tipping her head lightly, letting her know he wanted to see her. The lightest change of angle made his face twist.

‘Fucking hell, Nancy.’

She moaned, the twitching ache between her legs becoming agonising. She needed this to end, desperately. It made her work harder, faster. But Tommy’s hand held her still, though he panted and gasped.

‘I’m not coming down your throat, not tonight. Come here,’ he ordered, catching his breath as she rose, then catch her lips as soon as she was near enough to standing. Hands on either cheek, pulling her in, his cock brushing up against her stomach through the silk, leaving a damp swipe on the fabric.

They groaned into each others mouths, his hands moving to get the robe away from her, then searching beneath the slip for the band of her shorts without a moments hesitation. She felt like she should be lying down, or bent over, but he didn’t have the patience for it, or the need. Tommy’s hands knew the map of her body, and fingers met hot wetness, and she thrust to meet them.

Working her in circles, with the pads of three fingers, he dipped and put his lips to her throat, wanting to hear her pants and moans, and the tiny whines that left her without permission. Lips against her ear, his whisper was like hot steam, ‘What made you so wet for me then, my girl? The worry? Or my cock in your mouth?’

‘You,’ Nancy breathed out, eyes closed, head tilted to the ceiling, moaning as he teased closer to where she wanted him. She jutted her hips forward, not daring to say the words out loud.

Tommy complied, and two fingers slid inside of her, right to the knuckle. The groan he released against her ear was elicit, something that should be confessed to holy men.

His fingers continued to fuck her, long, slow, and thick. Each time receiving a guttural moan, the rest of his hand pressed against her spread lips, massaging there as he moved.

Tommy’s lips came to her again, tongue softly pressing against her own. She’d never tasted him properly before, like this. Wet against wet, sharing each other.

But focus was hard to keep, and she pulled back, forehead against his where he was bent to meet her. Her eyes were closed, but his were open, watching her face, watching her open mouth, not realising his own was open, their breath clashing between them, heating the room.

‘I want this off,’ he said, panting, tugging at her slip. His fingers left her so swiftly that she took a half second to notice, the pleasure making her half numb. Tommy had pulled her shorts down, and she stepped out of them as he lifted the slip. His eyes explored the bra, giving it the attention she wanted him too, fingers tracing along the curve in a quiet moment. Calm before the storm. Then, finally, he softly smiled. ‘This too, love.’

Licking her lips, she turned her back to him, revealing the clasp, and the curve of her spine. His hands easily unhooked the fabric, then moved to her hips, pressing his own against her, fingers smoothing around her stomach and up her ribs.

Feeling the hardness against her was terrifying, and electrifying. She leaned back against his chest as he explored her breasts, the valley between them, the softness of her stomach, the jut of her hips. His lips barely left her skin, kissing places she’d never known anyone would wish to kiss – shoulders, the back of her neck, her arms.

‘I want to see your beautiful face,’ he told her, turning her by the hips and pulling them into his. Thick lashes shadowed his eyes, looking over her flushed face. Her freckles stood out, the few she’d kept in the winter. Her red lipstick still half stained her lips, smudged around the edges. He gripped her cheek, thumb caressing.

Softly, nervously, she uttered, ‘How d – do you w-’

He pressed his mouth to hers, smiling as he pulled away. His lips were pinker than usual, his cheeks tinted, eye bright as they gazed down at her. ‘Tonight, I’m going to lie you down and take my time with you – good and well. That alright?’

Nancy nodded. He was smirking at her a little, and she felt shameful - silly. But reassured. Heated.

Tommy did lay her back, and the bed felt twice as comfortable as usual. Pillowing her softly beneath him where he hovered, a knees between hers, a hand by her waist and the other by her head. He kissed her twice on the lips, once on the lobe of her ear where he released a breath as his cock brushed against her bare skin.

One hand guided her legs to part lightly, then settled firmly on her hip to keep her stilled, the other hand gripping the length of him, guiding the head down her swollen lips and between them, pushing against the heat of her.

He removed his hand and brought it to rest by her head, the other caressing her cheek as he observed her just a moment before rolling his hips into hers. His lips parted, but he stayed silent to hear her gasp.

She hadn’t imagined Tommy making sounds of pleasure and appreciation, but he did. Every roll or thrust of his hips resulted in a soft moan or sigh. Only when she tilted her pelvis, rising to meet his, did he fall silent, eyes fixing on hers with new determination. A hand on her hip, searing. But he stayed true to his word, taking his time with her, enjoying every inch of him inside of her thoroughly. He fucked with his cock like he had with his fingers, to a steady slow rhythm, every thrust bringing groaning pleasure, splitting her wide and feeding the flame inside her.

‘What’s in that head, ey?’ he asked, kissing her forehead as their hips met again, a grunt chasing his words.

Nancy swallowed, heaving a few breaths before managing, ‘What – will you do tomorrow?’

The smirk on his mouth was not playful, or kind. There was a danger in it.

‘Tonight I’m watching that pretty face – tomorrow I might bend you over, see my cock in you from behind. Next day I’ll maybe – sit you on me – or have you against the door – stood up, or legs around my waist.’

The voice continued, the thrusts continued, even as she tipped her head back, nails dug into his arms, thighs beginning to ache and calves beginning to shake. Filthy animalistic sounds left her in grunts and shrieks. It was building in her – the singing.

‘Or maybe,’ he rasped against her neck, his own eyes closed, jaw loose. ‘I’ll let you taste my cock again. Then I’ll taste you. Drink you down-’

He was cut off by his own grunt, and all talking stopped. Only the slick sounds, speeding up, then slowing to harsh slaps against her. Deeper and firmer than they had been. She couldn’t move against it, and Tommy leaned back, hands on her hips, watching her spread beneath him as he slammed into her. Still slow, still steady, but so harshly that he had to grip her hips to stop her being pushed up the bed away from him.

She couldn’t even think to be self conscious, and the memories of others had faced long before. She couldn’t think at all, not even of the pleasure. She’d been stripped down to a vicious desperate creature, clawing at the covers, starving for more despite having it all.

‘Tommy-’

‘Yes, love.’

He’d answered, but not really. It had been in a bite, a breath. He wasn’t slow then, the thrusts were deep and stinging, his fingers on her hips digging further in until the bone beneath ached. Then he was above her again, hands either side of her head, forehead against her own, her legs spread so wide they pained.

‘Inside?’ he grunted.

Around her whimpers, she managed half a response, then a gasping, tight, ‘Yes!’

Forcefully, he fucked into her for a few more beats, then opened his mouth, releasing a sound of ecstasy as his cock pulsed thick shots of cum into her, filling her, warming her. The feeling of it made her cry out, tensing around him, making him judder, sharply exhaling and inhaling, milking out the last few drops of his orgasm.

She kissed him immediately, desperately, and he kissed back. Relaxing onto her, rolling them onto their sides so that she could relax her legs and wouldn’t have to carry his weight. In this time he slipped out of her, and she whimpered at the feeling, curling against his chest.

Tommy pulled back and pressed a firm kiss to her forehead, hand rubbing up and down her side, the curve of her tender hip. ‘My girl.’

Nancy chuckled, still catching her breath as he was. But when they met eyes, she read the distraction in his eyes.

‘What was that about, ey?’ he asked softly, brows quirking a little, but pressing another kiss to her cheek, stroking her sweaty hair away from her face. ‘My angel.’

‘I wanted to,’ she replied, half honestly. She did want to – she just - just hadn’t planned on it being today.

Tommy smiled beautifully at her, knowing, touching her cheek, loving her. ‘What happened today?’

His whispers were so out of character, but so enchanting. There could have been not a single other soul on the world. She’d not know either way. ‘I over stepped, like I said,’ she whispered back, and gave a swift retelling.

Tommy listened intently, and she wasn’t afraid any more, not while he was looking at her like he was. He grinned, then chuckled, then laughed out loud, turning onto his back and trying to stop himself when Nancy told him what her finishing line had been to Esme.

‘Oh, you are a trouble maker, Nancy Owen,’ he said, shaking his head and glancing sideways down at her, smirking in admiration. ‘Will you make it up with her?’

‘I don’t think she would – especially not now John has, well, taken my side. It seems,’ she said, licking her lips when she saw his smile faulter.

He turned his head to look back to the ceiling, but pulled her against his chest. ‘I’m unwilling to defend my brother, but,’ he sighed, hard and long, ‘It’s my fault he puts you above her. He wouldn’t be married if it weren’t for me.’

‘I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you either,’ she reasoned, propping up with her had on his chest to look down at him, his eyes following her hair as it fell like a curtain to one side.

He tucked it behind her ear, smiling softly. ‘No, you wouldn’t.’

His glance reminded her of the scar and her heart lurched in sharp pain that she tried to hide as Tommy inspected the rest of her, his fingers absently touching along her nails, ringing the cuticle of each.

‘You’re family we chose,’ he murmured. ‘She was forced on him.’

‘He seemed plenty willing,’ Nancy said with a roll of her eyes, glancing across her body, seeing the darkening marks on her hip and looking away swiftly, back to Tommy, whose eyes had stuck to them.

The void was back, that harrowing gaze. His jaw twitched a little. ‘I want you to let me know if he keeps calling you that.’

‘What?’

‘Princess,’ he said, looking to her with a flick of his brow, a flash of warning in his eyes that he hadn’t meant for her, not consciously. He propped himself against the headboard, looking to the side table, stretching to search in the drawer.

The fear set back in her, Nancy rose, suddenly cold, and fished in his jacket pocket where it hung on the back of the door. Turning, cigarette between her lips as she lit it, her eyes rose to find his glazed eyes looking at her.

She was probably too skinny in places, too soft in others. But he’d had her now. There wasn’t much she could do about her body, and she wouldn’t play coy. So she continued, feeling her cheeks and neck flushing red despite the confidence she forced herself into.

‘Sore?’ he asked as she passed him the cigarette, nodding to her hips, the bruises not yet formed but coming. He put the fag between his lips, to the side, closing one eye to avoid the smoke and gesturing her to him with both hands out-stretched.

She sat, guided, across his lap and against the wall, leant back so that he could softly roll his thumbs against the marks. Over exposed was how she felt, but she smoked, trying to exude a nonchalant attitude, the way she’d seen Polly smoke, stood in the centre of the pub, limbs loose and expression uncaring.

He rubbed lightly, plucking the cigarette between two fingers so that he could lean down and kiss the hip nearest to him. His breath brushed over her, a hot breeze over the hairs between her legs, making her clench. He smiled against her skin and pecked again before sitting back, reaching for the ashtray and holding it on her thigh between them.

She watched him stretch and arm behind his head, closing his eyes a moment, still smoking as he did. Chuckling, she asked, ‘What’s in that head, Thomas Shelby?’

‘Putting a bullet between John Shelby’s ears,’ he said, biting back his smirk, but not helping his grin when he opened his eyes to see her bored expression. He chuckled, like a kid, and grinned at her with an expression of total adoration. ‘I’m joking, Nance. I hope they make it up. Hope he keeps his eyes off you so I won’t have to rattle him.’

She rolled her eyes, though she blushed, stubbing out her cigarette after he had and setting the tray away. They got properly into bed, staying naked, sticking to each other. ‘We need a bigger bed,’ she murmured, eyes closed.

‘I’m working on it,’ Tommy sighed tiredly, hands still all over her, feeling, caressing, as if he were holding her in his hands for the first time. It felt to him like he was. To her too. He sighed. ‘Oh, my love.’

‘Tired?’

‘Always,’ he said, finding her eyes. ‘You must be – big day out for you. Shopping.’

Her cheeks burned and he grinned, squeezing her. She tried to push him off, but he only chuckled and held her tighter against his chest. ‘How long have you been plotting that pretty silk in that head of yours, then?’

‘About five minutes after Esme and I came to blows. Figured it was better to treat myself than throw another brick,’ Nancy joked, but sighed, mortified.

Tommy was silent, taking in a deep breath. ‘Cost me less than a window, I’m guessing. Go buy another set tomorrow – then save it for the weekend. I’ll invite Esme round for Sunday lunch and ask Polly to stop over Arthur’s for the night.’

Nancy slapped his chest, and they both laughed, chests rumbling against each other, joy filling the room. ‘If that’s your only method of seduction I’m highly disappointed.’

‘High expectations, have you?’ he teased, his face twitching with that warm charm she only usually saw on special, and usually drunken, occasions.

‘High hopes,’ Nancy replied, settling back against his chest, feeling his finger tips trailing her spine.

‘And here you are, giving a hopeless man hope, Nancy Owen. Exceeding all expectations,’ he mumbled wistfully, half honest, half in jest. Her chest twinged either way. Then he said, with a swallow, then with lips against the top of her head, as if it were a confession, ‘I’m going to London soon. Alright?’

She tensed, a lump balling in her chest, breathing halted. She swallowed. The words had been hard for him to say, she could tell. He was never usually afraid to speak, to admit things. Especially not about decisions he'd made.

‘Alright, Tommy.’

‘Do you want to argue about it now, or tomorrow?’ he offered softly, kissing the top of her head.

She snuggled tighter against him, listening to the hum of his heart. ‘Tomorrow, please.’

Always polite, even in her upset. God, he could put a gun between his eyes and die a happy man this night, without a care or the knowledge of whatever was to come next.

‘Goodnight, love.’

‘Night, Tommy,’ she said, opening her eyes slightly, gazing at the wall, trying to chase away the visions of Alfie Solomon’s and his knife, wandering up and down the streets of Camden, Tommy stalking after him - gun pointed - eyes fixed, the dark void behind them.

Chapter Text

‘Go back to sleep, love,’ Tommy had murmured to her in the morning.

She’d been warm from their love making, warmed by their tangled bodies. It had been easy to fall back to sleep, to half listen to him ready for the day and softly click the door shut.

She only remembered half way through dressing that he’d as good as scheduled their argument for that day, and spent the rest of the morning and into the afternoon with apprehension. She spent morning washing clothes, then fixed up a lunch.

‘Thanks, Nancy, love,’ Scudboat said, giving her a wide grin as she softly smiled, moving to Lovelock.

‘Billy,’ she spoke, giving him a thick cut sausage sandwich. Billy had always been around the shop, a part of the furniture. He often stood outside, milling about the street, and other times loomed near Scud, hawking anyone hanging around too long.

‘You’re an angel, Miss Nancy,’ Billy said as he chewed, breathing in heavily and nodding to Scud before he swallowed. ‘We will be loosening our belts off next, Scuddy.’

Nancy chuckled, touching Billy’s arm as she moved away, dipping her gaze as she passed by men chatting and counting. Frankie and Matthew tipped their hats to her. ‘Cuppa?’

‘You’re alright, pet,’ Matty said with a grin, looking her over. ‘Keen dress that, Nancy. If you don’t mind me saying it.’

She smiled, and a heavy hand gripped her shoulder. Arthur leaned close to her face, raising his brows at the chuckling men. ‘She might not mind, but Tommy bloody well will. Off with you pair of ya. Menaces, the lot of them, Nance. You come with me, angel.’

‘Where to?’ she asked, sending Matty a polite smile despite his and Frankie’s barking laughter. Arthur kept hands on her shoulders, leading her back through to the house, to the kitchen – the centre of the universe. She set to tidy up from her cooking, sliding a plate over to him with a smile. ‘What’s up, Arthur?’

He rubbed his moustache, looking down at the sandwich grimly. His voice came out as it usually did when he was excitable about something. ‘Well, see, my brother – Tom, not the other two. He’s holding me to a promise, Nancy. A promise I don’t think I can keep.’

The earth was shattering, she could feel it. Breathless, starting to move again after pausing, she asked, ‘What is it, Arthur?’

Arthur frowned, setting a hand on the counter and leaning into it, his other gesturing to her and a sound of torment leaving him. ‘He’s gone to London this morning, Nancy. Told me not to say anything. Trusted me with it. I couldn’t not tell you, love. Knowing in an hour or two you’d start wondering where he’d been all day – and tonight, lying up there alone. It’s not right. It’s not proper. I might have promised him this morning, but I promised him long before that too – that I’d mind you from everything, mind you from him too.’

‘Shh.’

She hadn’t meant to shush him, in the gentle hissing way that she did. But he’d keep going otherwise. Bless Arthur, above all of them. He had a heart of gold – or gold at the core, at least.

He watched her, with her eyes closed, snapping his mouth shut and rolling his lips together in worry. His nostrils flared a little, and he repeated, ‘S’not right, Nancy.’

Taking a deep breath and carefully blowing it out, she forced a smile. ‘It’s alright, Arthur. I won’t tell him you told me. Thank you, though.’

‘Well, he wanted me to tell you in the morning, should he not be back, you see.’

‘Has he gone alone?’

Arthur sniffed. ‘Wouldn’t take John – when I suggested it. Told me I wasn’t to tell John either. Being how he wants to skin the fella, and all,’ he said, hooking his thumbs on his braces and straightening up. ‘Him and a couple others. That’s all I know. Said he wanted to speak to Solomon’s alone though. He’s a bloody fool, Nancy. Didn’t trust me to take me, either.’

She softened her expression, rubbing his arm softly. ‘Trusted you to tell you where he was going though, Arthur. Take some pride in that where I can’t.’

His thick brows creased and he reached to touch her back. ‘Not that he didn’t trust you, love. Tommy does as he pleases. He’s not used to consulting – doesn’t make it right, but-’

‘It does make it Tommy,’ she said with a soft smile. She couldn’t meet his eye, but he held hers, waiting in case she needed him. ‘Think he’ll be gone a while?’

Her gentle gaze flickered up to his, her expression already in acceptance before he shook his heavy head. ‘I don’t know, angel.’

Nancy held his gaze a while, those bright blue eyes against scattered freckles. Then she sighed, turning back to her cleaning up. ‘Thanks, Arthur. I’m going to go for a walk – clear my head.’

‘Ah-’

‘I’m going alone,’ she said softly, pressing a hand to his chest, giving him a firm but thankful look. Then she pealed away the apron and headed out – not forgetting a gentle kiss to his cheek before she did.

She had no where to go really, no errand to keep her busy. Polly was round Ada’s, but she couldn’t be on with the girls giving their opinions, nor could she be on with lying to them. They'd be rallied and ready for a fight before she had even decided on a stand point.

Would he arrive back to Birmingham, blood on his hands? Crawl into their bed that night, shirt stained red and eyes blown wide? Or would he return at all?

A flash of embarrassment rushed through her, at the thought he’d ran after getting what he wanted from her. That was a silly, fleeting, thought though, that she knew made no sense so she chased it away faster than it had arrived. Her cheeks burned though, at the memory of it.

Her heart felt hollowed out though, then stuffed full of that sickening feeling of rejection, lined with regret. And it hurt. It hurt so very much.

She told Dan as much, murmuring to his grave stone as she stood over it, smoking. She didn’t cry though, not then. And not as she could hear footsteps on the path again.

She could sense him before he reached her, and glanced over her shoulder to make sure she hadn’t gone completely mad.

John’s eyes were scanning the yard, hands shoved deep in his pockets, in a move so timid it barely suited him.

‘Hi, John,’ she said, and his gazed flashed to her. ‘I’m alone,’ she added, and he nodded lightly back before reaching her side.

He looked at the grave, lips pursed, nose scrunching a moment. His skin looked pale to her, and stark. The freckles stuck out, brown and blonde shading. His mouth pink and twitching. Eyes bright bright blue.

‘John’s here, Dan,’ she spoke softly, smiling to the name on the stone, even as John’s head snapped towards her, to watch her speak. ‘He’s been coming here, I think. Though I’m not sure why.’

John swallowed, lowering his gaze before her eyes could catch his. The white skin at his cheekbones was flushing a little, and he shook his head at himself, chuckling, running a hand back through his hair. He did so much as to lower his head again, taking his hands from his coat pockets, flicking it back only so he could shove them in his trouser pockets. All acts of guilt, of shame, of embarrassment.

‘Sorry,’ he said, because he didn’t know what else to. But when he lifted his gaze, he was John. Eyes sparkling, a light smirk tugging at his lips. He looked younger, like a John she’d not met – a John who’d never known her to wrong her. Perhaps they’d healed – no, not perhaps. They had. In their own strange way.

This was a different John, and she tilted her head to invite him to share himself. She didn’t need to look away from him much. She never felt like his gaze was too much – in fact, it only opened up to her more, and she to him. Because, besides the twisted business surrounding his wedding, he’d always been honest. His emotions were never a mystery. He was never a mystery, and there was some comfort in that.

Eyes flitting between hers, he admitted, ‘I started coming when you left. Didn’t think it was right that Danny would go unvisited. Thought you’d like it, knowing he wasn’t lonely. I remember you being worried about that.’

The tears rushed to her eyes, but she smiled, shaking her head and wiping her silly eyes.

‘I got used to it, see. But then you and Tom caught me. He told me to pack in coming during the day. Told me I had no business in it,’ he said, clearing his throat, looking back to the stone. He frowned. ‘Told him you’d always be my business.’

Nancy laughed lightly around the dryness of her throat. ‘I bet he liked that.’

John grinned, nudging her elbow with his as they shared a chuckle, both their heads shaking. ‘You’re family, ain’t ya.’

She looked to him, the way he leaned back at the hips, hands in his pockets still but as a gesture of a shrug. ‘How’s your family doing?’

‘Kids are mental,’ he scoffed, scrunching his nose again. ‘Esme’s packed to leave twice this week.’

‘I’m sorry, John.’

‘Nah, it’s alright. Ain’t it, Danny? You always said I’d be an old geezer with six wives behind me and another few ahead. Don’t think I’ve got the stones for another after this one.’

Nancy chuckled, shaking her head. ‘Think you’ll work it out with her?’

‘We always work it out – just always get’s twisted again, you know,’ he sighed, nodding. ‘Just got to keep working on it, I guess. Try be better.’

‘I’m sure you try your best,’ she replied softly, with warmth.

But John shook his head. ‘Not really, if I’m being honest, love.’

Their eyes met, and she frowned at him.

It was a whisper, but it was there: ‘Hearts not really in it, you know.’

Nancy looked away as John cleared his throat, thumb running along his bottom lip as he righted himself, standing straighter again, chest out.

‘Where’s Tommy at, I’ve not seen him around tod-’

‘London – Tommy is in London.’

John jaw clenched a little, but he could tell from the way she’d said it, and the way she looked, that it wasn’t something they were going to speak about. Or something that she agreed with. So he cleared his throat. ‘Hope he kills the fucker.’

‘And starts a full out war for the sake of my face?’ she asked, raising a brow at him. He eyed the scar, then he eyed her. Nancy sighed. ‘I’m going to head back. Are you coming, or staying?’

He looked to the grave. ‘You’ve had your visit today, Danny. I’ll see you in a few.’

She kissed her finger tips and pressed them to the mossy stone, giving John a small smile before they fell into step together on the path. ‘What do you talk to him about?’

‘Danny? All sorts. Mostly just bloody moaned at him – he’s probably glad I’ve stopped coming round as much,’ he admitted with a chuckle, bundling up in his coat, shoulders to his ears. ‘Can’t wait for fucking summer. This barely feels like spring.’

Smiling, Nancy stepped through the gate as he opened it for her. ‘Are you heading home – or to the shop?’

He looked up the street, then back to the yard, then to her. ‘How’s about the pub?’

Nancy squinted at him. ‘Unless you think Tommy’ll be getting killed in London and therefore won’t be able to kill you himself, I think you should watch yourself, John Shelby.’

He barked laughter, walking sideways beside her. ‘What! I can’t ask my own sister in law for a drink?’

‘Not quite your sister in law, and Esme would kill you.’

‘Esme want’s to kill me anyways, I wait for the kids to try the food first, you know. And she threw a brass bloody lamp at me the other night – brass, Nancy. Nearly took me fucking head off,’ he told her, grinning and becoming more animated as she laughed, covering her mouth, her scar, to do it. He smiled, shaking his head and facing forward away, new swagger in his step. ‘Nah, you’re probably right. I don’t want you missing out telling Tommy what for because you’re feeling too guilty about having a drink with me to properly go at him.’

Rolling her eyes, she glanced sideways and saw his smirk. She would argue, but he was right. She was just like that.

‘Been a while since we’ve seen little Mary in her satin slip, shouting at the Shelby brothers over the kitchen table,’ he murmured, voice smooth and low, his smirk devious.

Nancy had flushed, so rose her brow in a scolding. ‘I haven’t had much reason to lose my temper recently.’

But John gave her a look of disbelief. ‘You sure about that, sweetheart?’

They continued walking a few steps, holding each other’s gaze. Nancy ended it with warning in her eyes, glancing forward just as a small body leapt in front of them.

‘Joey!’ John greeted, catching her in his arms and looking ahead, seeing other kids on the street playing with a few leather footballs. ‘Where’s your sister, ey?’

‘Hello, Nancy,’ Joanne greeted from her fathers arms, then twisted to point. ‘She’s playing with Finn and Isiah and Jamie. Me and the girls have been doing a hopscotch with chalk. Teddy wanted to play with the boys but he kept losing.’

‘Ah, he’ll be big enough one day,’ John told her, patting her as he lowered her down. ‘Boys – you being careful with the larl lass?’

‘Yeah, dad,’ Jamie called, looking to Katie in a grand gesture as if to check himself that she was in fact fine.

Nancy smiled, waving at the kids, John’s waving back. But Finn had his face scrunched up, looking away from them, to the ground, to the ball, anywhere but her.

‘Polly back at the house yet, Finn?’ Nancy asked, mostly to see if he’d speak to her.

He glanced between her and John, then shook his head, calling back, ‘I went Ada’s to see the baby for a bit. She said she was stopping their for tea.’

Nancy nodded, calling a farewell to them as they by passed and made their way back to the busier streets. She had that creeping guilty feeling again, or not guilt, because she knew she’d done nothing wrong, but worry.

‘I’ll see you later, Nance,’ John mumbled from beside her, tipping his hat, but not looking up to her before he took off towards the pub.

She glanced towards the barber shop, but felt a chill rush down her spine. She couldn’t deal with that today, though all she really needed was Kenny’s wisdom, and his warm smile. Tea and biscuits.

She could settle for gin though.

Polly came home to Arthur twiddling the knobs of the radio, having knocked it off the table in a drunken stumble. Nancy had Isiah by the hand, twirling him around the living room as Finn chuckled and clapping them along beside Jeremiah who was passing a cigarette to Scudboat who sat neatly to himself in an arm chair.

‘She’s teaching my boy to waltz,’ Miah announced to Polly’s hands at her hips, a brow rose.

She was going to say something firm, or rude, but Nancy turned half towards her, grinning ear to ear, giggling like a little girl. Which she still was, sometimes.

She couldn’t help the twitch of her lips at the sound of the laughter, and saw even Scud beginning to grin.

‘Go on, Isiah, show Pol,’ Finn said, standing and offering his hands to Nancy as the radio crackled and the music started up again.

Polly rolled her eyes, shaking her head, but Isiah came to her, Jeremiah’s son, with those bright eyes and his warm smile, with unknockable confidence for a boy of fifteen.

‘I’ll get you a drink, Pol,’ Arthur said, stumbling to the bottles sat on the window ledge.

‘One, two, three, four,’ Nancy counted, giving Finn a firm nod, trying to act most professional as he did.

They made it only a few turns about the room, before the boys were so full of laughter, and Nancy was so wobbly on her feet, that she pushed them towards each other and pulled Polly in for a sway.

Arthur placed a glass in Polly’s grasp, her wrist propped on Nancy’s shoulder and the other hand at her waist as she asked, ‘Why are you two always on for a song and bloody dance, ey?’

Nancy kissed her cheek, firmly and warm, they pulled away. ‘Come on, Arthur.’

He took her merrily in hand, and the pair of them hopped and jumped around the living room whilst the two younger boys danced in tandem, performing for Miah and Scud, who clapped along with barking laughter.

Arthur span Nancy out and tugged her back to his chest, singing nonsense songs to her, Polly’s musical laughter filling the air, the clapping, the radio, the men.

It was a stark difference to the silence of her bedroom later on. The walls span, and she could barely think two complete thoughts in a row.

So she stared up at the ceiling, thinking of Tommy, and Alfie - and Finn, and John, and Arthur, and Danny. Whoever flashed into her mind for the seconds that floated by in focus.

The sunlight in the morning was blinding, and she rolled to one side, away from the window, with her throbbing head, only to find an old ghost at her door – haunting.

‘Tommy?’

Chapter Text

Tommy gazed at her a while from the doorway. It was only a few beats, but to Nancy it felt like an age. Then he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, removing his hat and hanging it before doing the same with his coat. ‘You go to the pub last night?’

His voice was a gentle rasp, and hers was an empty croak. ‘No. Just here. Just me and Arthur and a few of the lads.’

‘The lads?’

‘Miah, Scud. Isiah. Finn,’ she shared, sitting up and watching him slip his hands into his pockets, chewing at the inside of his lip. She wanted to kill him, if she thought she could get to him without being sick. ‘Polly too.’

He hummed a response, glancing to her eyes, looking away briefly and forcing himself to look back with a swallow. ‘Drowning your sorrows, or fuelling the fire?’

Nancy’s eyes squinted ever so slightly, and Tommy had to fight a shameful smile, lowing his head.

‘Fire then,’ he murmured.

‘Arthur told me in the morning. He thought it wasn’t decent you going without letting me know.’

‘So he got you good and drunk to cheer you up then, did he?’ he asked, looking back at her, his face washed bare of any expression.

‘It was the decent thing to do,’ she replied, flipping back the cover to step from the bed. She glared at her bare legs for showing themselves to him, then stepped around him to the wardrobe.

Tommy’s eyes closed, and his head nodded lightly. He turned and stood while she dressed, eyes focused on her crinkled brow and deep frown. Then, he murmured, ‘I know I should have told you.’

A scream was thrashing in her chest, begging to be released in a guttural roar. But she managed to swallow it down, sending him only a glare.

‘I’m sorry, Nancy – for leaving, without talking about it first.’

At the apology, from Tommy, who rarely said sorry or anything like it, her eyes watered, but her voice spat, ‘I might not have known much kindness from men, Tommy, but I’ve known shitty behaviour. You let me sleep with you then disappeared – to somewhere you’d said we would talk about you going. You’re a fucking liar if you say you’re sorry. That was planned, and you know it.’

Tommy was trying to keep his face straight, but his clenched jaw and twitching lips gave him away. And his eyes, tightened, boring into her. ‘I didn’t lie, Nancy.’

‘Yes, you did!’ she burst, her words coming out in both exasperation and a chuckle. She closed the wardrobe, shoes hooked in two fingers ready for putting on. Lowering her voice, Nancy growled out, ‘You told me we’d talk about it. You told me you’d be fucking me, for Christ’s sake! What was it – from behind? Against the wall?’

He rolled his neck, eyes closed, face lifted to the ceiling a moment as her voice raised to a croaking shout.

‘It’s pretty hard to fuck someone from London to Birmingham, Tommy! Even you can’t be capable of that!’

He’d snapped, hands out in front of him, gestured in claws in the air, trying to get a grip on the conversation. Tommy’s voice was firm, but his control had slipped. He was yelling. ‘I went to fucking London - for you! To confront Solomons - for you! Jesus, Nancy.’

‘I know a fucking lie when I see one!’ Nancy said with a glower, each bark of her voice biting at her aching head. She could read his eyes. He was worried. He was hiding something. Her lips parted. ‘What happened with Solomons?’

Her fury had switched to disappointment, he could tell that. Taking a deep breath in, he sighed out, ‘Nancy-’

She laughed, shaking her head, feeling the tears slipping out. ‘You’re a fucking liar.’

‘I can’t tell the fucking truth if you don’t let me speak, woman!’

‘You were about to lie to me, Tommy, I can tell,’ she said, softer than she meant to.

It came out regretful, remorseful. When all she felt was her hangover, and her rage, and a horrible pit in the bottom of her stomach that could have been sickness or her heart, fallen from her chest in despair.

‘You were going to tell me a story, about how you’re going to use Solomons, how you can use him for your business and that’s as good as fucking him over. Or how you’d double cross him – you have a plan. Or how you had the gun to his head but couldn’t pull the trigger because you’re a fucking coward who runs out on me the morning after sleeping with me like I’m some kind of whor-’

‘Too fucking far,’ Tommy ground out, raising his voice to speak over hers, his finger pointing at her. His glanced to her lips as they smacked shut, then he looked back to her, burning for her. His words came firm and sharp, ‘That’s not what it was. You are not a whore.’

Nancy’s eyes rolled, tears filling them, as she bit out, ‘Well, Tommy, you definitely know how to make me feel like one.’

‘Oh, for fucks s-’

‘For fucks sake, Nancy!’ she yelled, gripping her shoes tighter in her small fists, leaning into him. ‘Fuck your sake, Tommy! Fuck you, fuck the Peaky Fucking Blinders, fuck the races, fuck the horses, and fuck the jockeys and the rich fucking fat old men buying them both!’

‘You’re still bloody drunk,’ he said roughly, shaking his head, looking her up and down with a grimace. ‘How am I supposed to fix this if you don’t let me explain, ey? Ey?’

‘How’s about don’t make the mistake in the first place, Tommy? How’s about I was ready to have a conversation with you and you left me!’

Tommy’s chest was rising and falling, glaring at her harshly as if willing her into submission, or as if she were a puzzle to solve. Then, his face smoothed over suddenly, softening, blinking fast. His voice was settled by a swallow, head tilting to the side. ‘Nancy, I want to fix it.’

‘I want you to stop breaking it,’ she admitted softly, and unable to look at the hurt in his eyes any longer, or the dark bags beneath them, she stepped around him and left the room.

Polly and John were in overly natural poses, John at the table reading the newspaper, but it was propped up too straight, as was he, and his nose did that awkward scrunch when she stepped into the room. Polly was by the kettle, stirring a tea for longer than necessary.

‘I’ve made you a cuppa, love,’ she said, turning, but Nancy’s cheeks where dark red with anger, a scowl on her face. ‘Nancy-’

‘I’m going out-’

‘No, you’re not,’ Tommy ordered calmly as he stepped swiftly into the room. ‘We’re having a conversation, Nancy. No running off.’

‘If you’re allowed to fuck off for twenty four hours, Thomas Shelby, then so can I. Cheerio!’

The back door slammed, and Tommy moved to open it, but Polly stepped to him, warning low, ‘Don’t, Tom.’

He sent her a glare, opening the door and yelling at Nancy’s back. ‘If you’re not back here by dark, Nancy Owen, I’ll be dragging you back meself.’

‘And I’ll scream the whole way – although I’ll probably save my breath, no one would dare step in the way of Tommy Shelby and his fucking plans!’

Tommy gave a low huff of a growl, whipping the door back into place, shaking the house.

‘Fucking hell, Tommy,’ Polly ground out. ‘Pleased with yourself, are you?’

She received only the same sharp glare that Tommy sent to John as he snapped, ‘Don’t fucking think Finn didn’t tell me you took a walk out with her yesterday either – fill her head full of shit, did you John? I’ll take a visit round your house and wind your wife up, shall I?’

‘You fill it enough yourself, Tom,’ John said flatly, eyes twitching in a hint of a glare. It was nice for him, to be the calm one for once. Tommy was the one ever in control, and John was the mess usually. It was a good morning for John, to say the least. ‘Esme’d like a visit from you. Barely seen you twice since you went and plucked her out the fields.’

Tommy set a hand on the back of his brothers chair, another on the table in front of him while he leered in his face, growling out, ‘I nearly shot one of the most dangerous men in London for that fucking girl yesterday. I’d have lost my life for it, but it would have been worth it. Would you do that for her, John? Would you? Ey?’

Polly jolted at the shout at the end of Tommy’s words, taking a hesitant step forward. ‘Tom-’

But his eyes were dead set on John’s. ‘You wouldn’t, would ya? Well, I nearly fucking did. But I can’t love her very well from the bottom of the Thames, can I? I love her, yeah? She’s just tore my fucking heart out my chest and took it out that back door. And I think you have something to do with that.’

His voice twisted to a low growl now, a threat.

‘You should only have to speak to her if you’re looking after her for me, or you’re with me. Any other time, you’re taking liberties, brother. Stay out of my personal business.’

‘Like how you stay out of mine?’ John challenged, voice as steady as water. ‘You’re fucking delusional, Tommy. She’s a fucking angel. We met on the street yesterday and walked aways, talking about Whiz Bang and the kids. Not everyone is out to take from you, Tom.’

Tommy’s eyes flickered between John’s, jaw twitching. Then he murmured, ‘I don’t like the way you look at her, Johnny.’

‘I don’t like the way you treat her,’ John stated, heart hammering but gazing as firmly as he could into his brother’s eyes.

‘Come away, Tommy. It’s not right, for you to be at each other’s throats,’ Polly said, a light tremble in her own fingers as she moved towards them, not daring to touch. ‘Come away, Tommy.’

Tommy gave John a final warning glance before rising, straightening his shirt out with a sniff.

‘Give Nancy a few hours to cool off, she’ll be back for dinner – if not, just after,’ Polly said, blowing out a long breath. ‘What happened with Solomons? What happened in London, Tom?’

He looked at them both, licking his lips and releasing a sigh.

____________

Nancy marched the streets, running her fingers through her hair. She really should have looked in the mirror before she left the house, but a quick glance in a few windows settled her on her worries, and she marched on, with no where in mind.

People greeted her, and she felt like an absolute fool when she replied. How embarrassing, to have lost her temper in such a way. And shouting outside the house? Bloody hell.

‘Sorry,’ she muttered, dipping around someone she hadn’t noticed, getting turned towards a back alley, glancing down it. She saw a familiar street in the distance, a familiar building. For whatever reason, she blinked, and started heading down it, seeing two figures in the distance, about half way down.

‘I said – get off,’ a voice gasped, and one of the shadows pushed at the other.

‘Come on, it’s all I’ve got.’

‘I said fuck off!’

‘Oi!’ Nancy hollered, clearly in the mood to argue further, as if she hadn’t already made herself a fool that morning. ‘Fuck off! Leave her alone!’

‘Mind your own business!’ the lad called back, pressing a hand back on the girl and leaning her into the wall.

Nancy marched up, spotting a decent sized bottle in a corner of rubbish and swiping it up. ‘I said – leave her - alone!’

‘You fucking nutter!’ he yelled, covering the side of his head looking back at Nancy who raised the bottle again. ‘She’s a fucking whore!’

‘You’ll be dead before dawn if you don’t scurry off, you rat,’ Nancy snapped, gesturing to hit him again, but he stumbled back, away from her, heading the way she had come from. Nancy watched him with a snarl, then turned her eyes back to the girl. Who wasn’t a girl at all. ‘Sally?’

Sally was panting, leaning back against the wall, a slur in her words, ‘Mary the millionaire – don’t often see you down these parts anymore.’

Nancy took a step closer to reach out, to touch her, but saw the scabs on Sally’s skin, how thin she had become. Her hand returned to her side. ‘You should get home, Sally. Nothing good can come from hanging around down here.’

Sally laughed, head bent back on the damp wall, eyes closed. ‘This is purgatory, love. But which way is heaven, which way is hell, ah?’

Sally was laughing, a little manically, but Nancy glanced down to where she could see the street where the whore house lay, then up to the street she’d come from, a sickly feeling coming over her. The air around them was thick, heavy, weighing on her.

‘Or is one the earth, and the other the holy land?’ Sally asked, voice lowering to a rasp, eyes finding Nancy’s. ‘Where did you get that scar, Mary? On the land or in the sky?’

Nancy smacked away her outreached hand, stepping back. ‘You should go home, Sally.’

Sally chuckled again, stumbling slightly to the side and righting herself against the wall again. She looked up and down, then to Nancy, catching her with her gaze on the street where Sally lived. ‘You don’t want to head that way, love. Angel’s that fall twice don’t go back, you know. God doesn’t let you back twice.’

Nancy watched her bend in half, hacking, crippled by some disease Nancy couldn’t even conjure up an idea of in her mind. ‘You should go to God, Sally,’ she murmured, taking steps back. ‘Go to God and ask for help at the church. There are women there – who – who can help.’

‘Help what?’ Sally asked, eyes suddenly clear, finding Nancy in the dim light. ‘Hold me down while God takes a turn on me?’ She broke into vile laughter, giddy and unsettling. ‘Is that what happened to you, Mary? Did God fuck you?’

Nancy’s breath caught in her throat, and she took more steps backwards, tears springing from her eyes, her head shaking.

‘Did the angels hold you down?’ she asked, her laughter getting louder and more manic, then strained, then she broke between coughs and laughter, both barks, but one of joy, the other of death.

Nancy rushed back to the street, willing her tears to stop, wiping them as they slipped out. She let out a yelp when she stepped straight into someone in the street, meeting eyes with Matthew who gripped her arm.

‘Jesus, Nancy. You alright?’ he asked, keeping hold of her as she breathed fast, trying to right her face. He looked to the ally, seeing no one, and back to her, eyes wide. ‘Has something happened, pet?’

‘No, Matty,’ she whimpered, pulling from his grasp, wriggling in her skin. ‘I just got a little turned around. I’m sorry. I’ll be going, alright. I’ll see you at the shop. I’ll make you a cuppa, yeah?’

He watched her sniff, not meeting his eyes, blinking harshly. He took her arm, about to speak her name softly, but she jolted, pulling away.

‘I’ll be seeing you, Matthew. Sorry about that.’

‘Nancy-’ he tried, but sighed when she nipped around people, up the busy street back towards home. Inhaling deeply, and exhaling the same, Matty forgot his previous task and set off following her up the street, hoping to set eyes on her so he could tail her, but she was out of sight, her powder blue coat no where to be seen.

___________

Nancy smiled softly, taking the offered cup. ‘Thank you, Curly.’

He grinned, sipping at his own and cooing at the curled up kitten in her lap. ‘Where have you got to?’

Nancy watched him search the floor, then plucked up the other kitten, pecking it’s head and setting it on Nancy’s knee with the other. She didn’t mind the way his knuckles brushed against her thigh, she knew Curly’s heart was gold. She was still sniffling a little, but the tea was helping.

‘Their mammy and their brothers and sisters will be pleased they’ve got a warm body to curl up on,’ he said, nodding to her as if he were grateful for her visit.

It had been an accident, really, her ending up here. Curly was on the street, picking up a parcel, which he said was for Charlie. He told her about the kittens and their mother dying, how he only had two left. Then he invited her round to see them, most eagerly. He didn’t care that she looked like she’d been sobbing, nor the stark fear in her eyes when he’d first spoken to her.

‘Bless them,’ she murmured, stroking them softly, sipping her tea, soaking up the warmth and comfort.

‘You looked a bit sad, Miss Nancy, when I was seeing you up the market,’ Curly said, watching her with a grimace.

Nancy smiled a little, eyes on the kittens. ‘Oh, don’t worry about that. I’d been to see Danny at the graveyard. Always makes me a bit sniffly.’

He smiled at that, wide, nodding. ‘Daniel Owen was a good friend of mine.’

A grin stretched across Nancy’s lips, finally meeting his gaze, seeing the gentleness of him, the warmth. ‘That makes me glad, that he had a friend as good as you.’

Curly chuckled, shaking his head. ‘I’ll tell you about a time he helped me bury a dead mouse when we were kids, if you like?’

Nancy bit out a laugh around her mouthful of tea, nodding her head, trying not to jostle the kittens as she got more comfortable. ‘I’d love to hear it.’

Curly scrunched his nose in a grin. ‘The other boys laughed at me. I found it near the canal. Tommy-’ he gave a big giggle, ‘Tommy said it was a baby rat – a baby rat, Nancy! It was a mouse, a little brown one, with a pink nose and a naked belly. Sweeter than powdered sugar, it was. I wasn’t allowed any pets. I liked the mice though, in the back alley from my house. So the dead one made me sad. The others went off up the street, but Danny – Danny gave me a nudge and told me to pick up the mouse. Took me up the graveyard and we buried it in a back corner.’

Nancy joined his laughter, shaking her head. Curly only got more enthusiastic.

‘Danny said if the holy man caught us that he couldn’t cast the mouse to hell – that it was a good mouse – that you could tell from it’s – from it’s colouring and the straightness of it's tail. Then he sang it a song, and we put a ring of pebbles around it. Kept us busy a few hours – kept me happy a long time.’

Nancy’s heart was swelling. She smiled wide, trying not to cry again. ‘I love that story, Curly. I love any stories about Dan.’

Curly looked hesitant, glancing at the clock above his small fireplace, then to her cup. ‘You’ve got time for one or two more, Miss Nancy? Charlie won’t come by till he’s finished on the yard, see. And you're much better with a smile, I should think.’

She looked at the time. She had a good few hours till dark, a good few hours left hiding. She nodded. ‘Please, tell me.’

Curly grinned, and began to speak. As he did, Nancy’s eyes drifted to the window. She could see the paved street, the people walking up it, down it, across it and around it. She could see the birds and the sky, and against it, the towering cross of the church, looking down on the city.

Curly’s voice faded in and out, and Nancy’s stomach rolled. But the tea was warm, the kittens were warm, and weighted in her lap.

Eyes drifting between the cross, the clock, and the gentle man before her, Nancy could feel her mind drifting in and out, as slow and steady as a breath, or a tide. Lulling. Ebbing. Trying to catch the meaning of this God-forsaken day.

This God-forsaken life.

Chapter Text

‘Sun is turning in, Miss Nancy. I can take a walk back with you, should you like it?’ Curly offered. Even he’d noticed her watching the clock, and the shifting sky.

She smiled touching gentle finger tips to the top of the kittens sleeping little heads, shaking her head. ‘I’m alright, Curly. Besides, Charlie will be coming soon, didn’t you say? Wouldn’t want to miss him.’

Curly’s brows flickered, twisting in a frown as he took two quick steps to the door, setting his hand on the handle before she could. Her heart thumped harshly, and she scorned it. This was Curly. Kind, gentle, Curly – but, then again, who she didn’t know very well.

‘Tommy would want me to see you home, Miss Nancy,’ he said, looking to the ground, shaking his head, thinking it over. Then he nodded, giving her a determined grin. ‘I’ll be walking you. It’s only a ways-’

Curly had turned to pick up his hat and his coat, and in a single motion, Nancy reached for the door and slipped out to the street, calling, ‘It’s alright, Curly – goodnight!’

He slung the door open, squinting into the darkening night, spotting her running as fast as she could on her heels up the road. Charlie appeared then, from the other side, glancing back to follow Curly’s gaze.

Curly leapt a little at his arrival.

‘Was that Tommy’s girl?’

Curly grimaced and Charlie sighed, watching the girl’s powder blue coat disappear around the corner.

----------

Nancy hadn’t really been sure where she was going to go after that. She’d thought about the church. She’d thought about it so much that she wondered if there wasn’t some divine being thrusting the thoughts into her mind, calling her there. If it wasn’t God himself thinking about her.

The cross against the darkening sky looked harrowing, so she walked the other way, deeper towards the central city, dipping in and around crowds, avoiding anyone in a flat cap or anything even remotely similar.

Ada, Kenny, Keith.

Those were her only real options, but all three of those would likely be the first places he’d look. But she wanted him to know that she could disappear as easily as he could. She could just pick up and leave too if she wanted to.

Oh, it was all a shambles. She’d definitely sobered up since the morning, but her mind was reeling. She felt manic. She felt like how she’d felt the moment she threw the brick through the cobblers window. Only this had lasted all day.

Her palms were madly itchy. Madly, because that’s what it was making her. Mad.

Anyone else would turn her over to Tommy in a heartbeat, she knew that. She knew he ran Birmingham before, but now, seeing quite clearly that anyone she knew was affiliated with him, that she had literally no one to go to – well, it was cripplingly lonely.

What was Nancy without Tommy? Who did she have?

Kenny and Keith had no power against him.

What was she even thinking? He wasn’t going to hurt her. Hell, he loved her. In his own way. It wasn’t sane, or proper, or sweet. But he did. She just couldn’t let him away with this, not this time. She wasn’t ready to forgive.

A hand gripped her elbow, but not tightly. Nancy jerked, gasping, eyes meeting Polly’s.

‘Come on,’ she murmured, glancing around them, and linking their arms tightly. Her face was drawn, brow sharp. Polly often got that look on her when she was determined about something.

They walked a little ways, tittering on their heels, around corners and down alleys, further into the city, further away from Tommy’s reach. Polly didn’t say a word, apart from when she murmured, ‘In here,’ and pulled Nancy through a back doorway down one of the alleys.

‘Ms Gray.’

Nancy forced a tight smile at the man holding the mop and bucket, though it felt like a grimace to her and likely looked like one to him. She didn’t even ask Polly where they were, and didn’t have to once they broke out into the main building.

Polly gave her a level look over her shoulder before leading her up towers and towers of stairs. There was red velvet on the walls, and doorways and curtains everywhere, leading who knows where.

‘Polly-’ Nancy started to whisper, but Polly sent her a look so sharp she closed her mouth and continued to follow.

They reached a door, and Polly pushed through to rows and rows of seats, barely lit, the music so loud it was overwhelming.

Nancy had never been in a theatre before. Never. The strangest day grew stranger, looking down as they moved to take seats at the centre of the curved balcony. A dancer on the stage, in her beautiful bright white skirt, jutting out around her hips, and her beautiful, bejewelled bodice.

More than that, an orchestra, a whole orchestra, in a pit in front of the stage. They were playing, practicing whilst the dancer was given direction from a woman dressed very finely, gesturing all around the stage and up into the rafters.

Nancy looked to Polly, who was sat, watching straight forward, lighting a cigarette. She sniffed, handing Nancy the pack, the settled into her seat in a way that instructed Nancy to do the same, and to stay quiet.

‘He went to meet with Solomons,’ Polly said, eyes still forward, face a blank mask. ‘He was up the street, saw him walking into the bakery or whatever front he’s got for his backwards business.’

She let out a long suffering sigh as the music stopped and the started up again, the dancer still nodding and practicing half motions.

‘He couldn’t go in. He had an appointment scheduled, everything. But he couldn’t go in,’ she said, voice growing lower, raspier, as if it were hurting her to share the story. As if she could feel Tommy’s pain just by speaking it. ‘Because he knew he’d kill him if he got him alone. He nearly shot him in the street. Stupid beggar.’

Nancy’s eyes welled when Polly looked to her, breathing a laugh with her last words. Polly shook her head, not unkindly, at Nancy’s tears, then looked back to the stage.

‘He was ashamed to come back, see. Ashamed to tell you he couldn’t do it. Say’s he’s a coward.’

Heart aching, Nancy watched Polly’s face, waiting for her to speak again, but the music started all over again, and Polly smiled lightly.

Nancy looked to the stage, and the girl began to dance.

It was like watching an angel, spinning softly, stretching and soothing her way around to the music. The tune was slow, then harshly fast, then soft and silent, then so loud it made Nancy jump a little in her seat.

But it would slow again, and soften, and the dancer would be on her toes, beautiful and gentle. Nancy had never seen anyone so stunning. So pure. Her smile, light and easy, with a perfect white dress, and her light hands, bright eyes.

She had to hold her breath to stop from whimpering as the tears trailed her cheeks. ‘Do you think-’

Nancy stopped, having turned to glance at Polly, but finding her own eyes damp, glistening in the low lights. She was smiling, and it was beautiful.

Nancy turned back to watch the dancer take her final turns, and the music ended softly, and the older woman was back on the stage giving instruction that they couldn’t hear as more dancers filed on.

‘Do you think we could have been ballet dancers, Polly?’ she asked, watching them all line up, raising their arms above their heads, elbows bent like the wings of swans.

‘We’re both to old to start now – besides, they don’t let tits like yours in the ballet,’ Polly said, voice a little lower than usual as she wiped her eyes, sighing to herself. She was making a jest because she felt silly, but Nancy had seen her dreaming. Caught the glint of hope in her eye, for a Polly that could have been.

A cleaner Polly. Someone who was bright white and shiny, and still had the time and the patience to move with such ease and such softness. Someone who wasn’t cut rough around the edges, fraying and stained.

The older woman gave a soft smile, leaning in to look at the girls as they linked their arms. ‘Look - did you ever make paper dolls?’

Nancy shook her head, watching the dancers all in their rows, joined at the arms, skirts brushing together.

‘Well, that’s what they looked like,’ Polly said, sniffed and taking out her mirror to fix her face. ‘Listen. I have enough for one night in the hotel down the street.’

‘Oh.’

‘Take it. Take the night. He deserves it,’ she said, snapping shut her mirror, then sighing. ‘He deserves to tell you himself, how he feels – what went on in that head of his. Its rare he tells me as much as he did today. He’s hurting, Nancy.’

‘I’m hurting too,’ she defended swiftly, though it came out pathetically, and the drop in Polly’s firm expression let Nancy know she could hear it – hear her desperation to go back to Tommy.

‘That’s why you should take the night,’ Polly spoke, taking out an envelope, holding it out to her.

Nancy looked at it, took a breath, and took it. ‘Thanks, Poll.’

‘Don’t mention it – ever again. I’ll deny everything.’

Polly seemed to be fixing to leave, so Nancy did too, standing, straitening her coat. They made their way back out to the stairs, then out to the alley, the same man having held the door for them, handing Polly an envelope similar to the one she’d given Nancy.

‘Do you come here often?’ Nancy asked, clever enough to know to wait for the door to shut behind them. It was dark now, really dark.

Polly rolled her eyes, smiling. ‘Go on. It’s the green building. I’ll see you in the morning?’

Part of her, a small part, imagined never seeing Polly again. It would be the perfect time to disappear. A clean break from the lads, from the kids. A final farewell to Polly. Ada knew she loved her.

But that was a tiny part – the manic part of herself that had grown so tired of running that it had shrunk to almost nothing. Running from what though? From everything, really, she supposed. From arguing with Tommy. From the oppression. Feeling out of control. The rejection she’d felt. The horrible feeling. The feeling of being abandoned, of being used. Dirty. Unwanted.

She managed to perform well for the gentleman at the hotel, and found herself in a comfortable room, nothing grand, but grander than she knew. It occurred to Nancy that Polly was likely far more involved in business than she’d thought.

Was she so unaware of everything? What did she even do all day? Make tea? Was she really so ignorant to the world around her? So naïve? The look on Polly’s face had said so. It had almost been pitying.

Nancy washed her face and stripped to her slip, laying back on the bed, trying to force sleep. When that didn’t work, she moved to the window – watching, waiting – in the plush armchair. She dragged it over to the glass and curled up in it, gazing down at the street below, eyes catching on anyone in a cap.

She awoke, stiff, to a commotion somewhere up the corridor.

‘We’ll check every bloody room then, shall we?’

A bang. A shriek. A shout. The slam of a door.

Squinting, rubbing her eyes and rolling her neck, Nancy glanced at her watch. It was half past three. Another bang jolted her from her chair and her heart sped up. It was only a matter of time. Was he going to drag her out? Would he lock them both in here? Were the police going to come?

When the door across from hers was slammed open, she felt like she might be sick. She felt like she was in the whore house again. The night Tommy had slammed the door open and marched her from the building. Only this time, she knew it was coming. And she knew him.

‘Sir, the police have been called-’

The lock in the door, another bang up the corridor. Then her own flung open. Arthur met her eye, frowning, sighing. ‘Tommy.’

Tommy’s pupils were blow wide, his movements swift as he swung into the entrance room. He acted as though they’d simply been waiting on her, but his tone was wrong, his eyes too. It was a pretend act – sarcastic. ‘Ah, perfect. Get your coat on. Arthur, give the nice gentleman his keys back.’

He took a few steps in the door way, turning and rubbing a hand down his mouth. He was trying to keep his cool, she could tell. It terrified her. He was jittery, jaw tighter than ever.

She hadn’t moved, and Arthur hadn’t either. He looked like he wanted to say something, eyes begging, desperate for his brother to take a real look at his girl, see the fear on her face. She looked so young. She was so young.

‘Give him the fucking keys!’ Tommy snapped, gesturing to the tiny little desk clerk in his waist coat, who was watching Nancy through the door with an apologetic look.

‘Sorry, miss, the police are coming,’ he started, but Tommy waved him away, and Arthur gripped his elbow, pushing him away down the hallway.

‘We’ll call ‘em up,’ Arthur was saying, ‘Tell them it was all a misunderstanding, ey? We’ll just get my sister and be going. She’s under age, see? Shouldn’t have been allowed a room.’

Tommy looked to her, jaw clenched, brow raised. She thought he was going to shout, but he simply wrung his hand in his sleeve, then pointed to the floor, grinding out, ‘Get the coat on, Nancy.’

‘How did you find me?’

He looked at her, in disbelief that she was being so defiant. ‘Get the fucking coat on.’

‘I want to know how, Tommy.’

Tommy’s eyes were even wider, glaring at her for three harsh beats of her heart. Then he stepped into the room, closing the door from the prying eyes of the few people poking their heads from their hotel room doors. He picked up the coat and moved to her, clutching it as he looked her over.

It looked like he was checking her over for damage, or trying to read her. Either way, he found nothing.

‘I told you that I’d come for you,’ he said firmly. But there was a crack in it, a hitch towards the end. His throat was tight. Tight like someone nervous or – ‘You scared me.’

Her mouth fell open at the blurted confession. Tommy’s being relaxed, like the tightness was unwinding at the admittance. ‘I scared you?’

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut, looking pained and holding the coat up. ‘Put the coat on, Nancy. Please.’

‘What happens if I don’t?’ Nancy asked in return, in a whisper.

Their eyes met, and Tommy swallowed, expression painting blank with a blink.

‘I don’t know, love,’ he whispered back, so softly it was barely there. ‘Please – please.’

She looked down at her bare feet as she complied, step forward to him and turning to slip her arms into the outheld coat. She stepped into her shoes whilst Tommy gathered up her dress, nodding as she wrapped the coat tightly around herself.

He nodded, sighing, sniffing, and moved to the door, straightening himself up, turning back into Thomas Shelby before he moved back into the world.

Stepping out into the corridor, he awaited her, letting her walk first. It was much the same as walking from the brothel. Eyes watching her from gloomy doorways. Men in caps dotted through the building.

Tommy stopped her at the desk in the foyer where Arthur gave him a nod from where he stood beside the little man behind it, his hand firmly on his shoulder. Setting the dress on the desk, Tommy reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a money clip, dropping the notes on the wood before clearing his throat and tapping Nancy’s hip with his knuckles to get her walking again.

The desk clerk watched, horrified, traumatised, as Arthur patted him and stepped back around the desk, grabbing the dress and clasping it in his fist as he marched from the foyer and into the rain, two more men in caps following them out.

‘Thanks, lads,’ Tommy spoke as they moved to the car. ‘Do me a favour, Matty, hang about and make sure no coppers do come. I want to know if they do.’

It just got worse and worse, Nancy thought.

Tommy sniffed again, opening the car door for her, and closing it lightly when she’d climbed in and began brushing her hands over her wet hair. Arthur and Lovelock got in the back.

‘Nice place that,’ Arthur said after some silence.

Billy tried not to laugh, instead directing his gaze out the window so he couldn’t see the way Tommy’s face turned murderous.

Tommy dropped the pair of them off and they finished off the journey in total silence. He still held the door for her, and let her in the house first. She was still for looking after, still for caring for.

He didn’t lead them upstairs, but to the kitchen, where all their serious talks took place. It was the heart of the house - the stomach, the spine. Everything else was just flesh and blood.

‘Fucking hell,’ he said grimly, pouring a drink.

‘Do I not get one?’ she asked softly, with a little caution.

His brows flicked up. ‘Thought you’d still be hungover.’ He poured her one anyways. The words weren’t cruel. They were just a joke, but his heart wasn’t in it. ‘Sorry.’

She didn’t mind the extra tipple he’d put in her glass. She couldn’t sit though. So, she cradled the tumbler against her chest and leaned back against the counter, looking at him, watching him. ‘You haven’t slept?’

Tommy chuckled, shaking his head. ‘I’ve barely slept for two fucking days, Nancy.’

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

‘I’m sorry about that,’ she murmured, then waited. Waited for him to say it.

‘I saw him – saw him and couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t move for it. For the – anger.’

He couldn’t look at her, she realised. He ran a hand through his hair, sniffing again.

‘I knew if I moved – I’d kill him. Then they’d kill me. And I’d never be back.’

Nancy finished her drink, stroking the tip of her finger against the still cold glass. ‘How did you know which hotel, Tommy?’

He glanced to her, following her gaze to the scattered petals across the badly dried floor. The vase she’d set out a few days before was broken, chucked in the coal bucket by the back door, the dustpan and brush beside it.

The air felt hot to her suddenly. She could feel it. That something had happened – something ugly.

‘I’ve got plans to make it up to Poll,’ he murmured, voice heavy with shame and exhaustion. He sniffed and sighed, looking to the petals again. ‘Always have a plan, don’t I?’

‘Yeah, Tommy, you do.’

At the gentle tone, the submissive tone, Tommy looked to her, his head still dipped, lashes casting shadows on the hollows beneath his eyes. He was about to smile, but then her face creased in pain.

‘I don’t care what happens with Solomons, Tommy. I just didn’t want you to leave me,’ Nancy said, voice threatening a sob. ‘I felt so stupid. So stupid when Arthur told me where you’d gone. You can’t just leave me, Tommy. Not like that.’

‘I was coming back,’ he started firmly, desperately, but his mouth twisted in a grimace. ‘I wanted to make it right.’

‘It’s never going to be right,’ she stressed, setting her cup on the table, and gesturing with her hands. ‘It’s never going to be right because the things people like Alfie Solomons do is never right – even when they think it is. It’s not bloody sane, Tommy. What he did, or anything that could come after. But you could have done right by me. You could have spoken to me first. Instead of just leaving, like what I thought didn’t matter.’

He was softly shaking his head, brows moving as she spoke. ‘The world is all fucked.’

Nancy sighed, rubbing her temples, and Tommy’s gaze lifted to watch her.

‘I don’t know how to make it all right for you, Nancy. Don’t know how to do you right,’ he admitted, sounding like he had his jaw wired shut, all muffled and mumbled and tight.

‘I was alright, Tommy. More than alright.’

He nodded, looking small, eyes flittering over her face. ‘And I made you run away.’

‘I just needed a night.’

‘That’s what Polly said too – I couldn’t wait.’

She felt a little sick. ‘Where is she?’

‘Stopping at Arthur’s. Fucked that up as well, didn’t I? She said it was the last time she’d help me with you. That it was mine to break.’

Nancy nodded softly, slumping back against the counter and rubbing her tired eyes. She had a lump in her throat that wasn’t going away. Like her heart was crawling out of her chest, trying to get to him – to hold him. She’d never seen him look so down.

‘What’s next then?’ she asked, pressing her lips together to stop herself from giving in all together.

Tommy sniffed, then swallowed, brows lifted, mouth gaping, jaw grinding a little around his words before he spoke them. ‘Well, I want you to come to bed. Let me take you for breakfast in the morning. We’ll go for a drive, ey?’

Nancy frowned, tilting her head, almost with pity for him. ‘What else, Tommy?’

He tipped his head back, looking up to the ceiling, blowing out a long breath before he met her eye. ‘I’ll talk to you. About it all. No more making plans without you.’

She nodded a little, and heard him sigh.

‘Can I come over there? Or will you hit me?’

She didn’t quite smile, but she did murmur, ‘You can come here.’

The air shifted, and it felt like the first time he’d ever approached her with the intention to touch. Eyes holding hers, hands unclenching to reach for her when he was near enough.

She heard the air of relief leave him as he held her head to his chest, a hand in her hair and the other at the base of her neck. He was breathing her in, and blowing out, long and steady, soothing his tarnished heart.

‘Thought you were going to come back for dinner – then, when you didn’t, thought we’d never see you again.’

Nancy wanted to comfort him, to say that she would never just leave like that. But in her madness, she almost had. ‘I wanted you to know what it felt like. At least I told you I was going.’

He chuckled, but it was shaky. ‘I’ve upset Kenny. I’ll go round tomorrow.’

She squeezed her eyes shut at the thought of it. ‘We’ll take him a present. Invite him for dinner.’

He hummed in agreement, hands finding her cheeks to pull her away, taking a good look at her. Thumbs stroking her cheekbones, he asked, ‘Where did you go, ey, my girl?’

A rim of tears lined her eyes. ‘It’s been the longest day, Tommy.’

‘Shh, it’s over now, yeah?’ he soothed, wiping at her eyes with the pads of his thumbs. He smelt like ash, and something else. He saw her face twist into a frown. ‘What you thinking?’

‘Your eyes – they’re darker,’ she mumbled back, leaning away to look better at him.

Tommy smiled at her like he loved her, his hands softening, eyes like a doe. He was whispering, leaning in. ‘Just a little something to keep me awake, is all. Otherwise I’d be flat out on this cold floor and you’d be stepping over me on your way in come sunrise.’

Nancy smiled lightly. ‘It’ll be sunrise soon.’

Tommy nodded, nose brushing hers. ‘Let’s get to bed then, ey?’

Nodding, her head tilted back so that their lips would meet. Tommy smiled into the kiss, she could feel it. She smiled back, so much that they had to pull away to look at one another, eyes almost crossed.

‘I won’t leave again if you won’t,’ he whispered, touching his lips to hers, then to her jaw, breathing heavily out of his nose when he heard her light gasp. ‘I promise. No leaving.’

‘Alright, Tommy. No leaving,’ she breathed. ‘No leaving.’

He murmured against her throat, but she didn’t hear. Her ears were ringing, and her blood was rushing so loudly she felt like she was shaking. Maybe she was. All the anger, all the upset, it melted to form an entirely different beast.

He grunted against her skin, just below her ear, the smell of her hair and her perfume strongest there. Teeth against her, only grating, followed by a kiss.

‘Tommy,’ Nancy sighed in despair, feeling his hands slide up beneath her silk slip, finding the bare skin of her waist, wrapping around her back, gripping tightly.

‘I love you, Nancy,’ he spoke firmly, right to her ear, kissing the lobe, and the seam where her face met her hairline. Lips finding hers, suddenly hot and yearning, he gasped out, ‘I love you.’

Fingers finding his belt, working to undo it, working to unbutton his trousers, she murmured, ‘Tommy, I need you – need you to-’

He caught her hands, moving them away, then gripped her hips, spinning her around to face the table. Nancy pulled down her own silk underwear, then felt hands sliding from the tops of her arms, down over her elbows and to her wrists, before they covered her own, flattening her palms to the table. His hips pushed into hers, his chest against her back, his whole body engulfing hers as he ground against her, groaning against her hair and tugging it away to kiss at the nape of her neck.

Tommy leaned back and she felt him bundle her slip into his fist, pulling it up, exposing her to him. His other hand smoothed over her curves, fingers finding their way between her legs. He didn’t put them inside, only stroked to feel the wetness, another sound of pleasure leaving his parted lips as he ran three fingers from the slickened hole and forwards to her hard, desperate, clit.

Nancy let out a single whimper, hips following his hand as it moved away as swiftly as it had swiped her. Then, faster than she could register, the head of his cock was between her legs, pushing her open to make way for the length of him. A gasp left her, made from pain and pleasure, and he made his own groan of ecstasy, pushing his hips further against her, spreading her legs wider.

Hands at the curve between thigh and hip, Tommy pulled back, barely, and pushed back inside, sounding out a vowel, but no words. She could feel every part of his veined cock sliding inside of her, parting her lips and making her ache for more.

‘Okay?’ he grunted, as if in pain himself, pulling out right to the very tip before sliding back in, a low groan leaving him. ‘Okay?’

‘Fucking hell,’ she squirmed as he slid back in again. He felt so long, and so hard. She usually felt so numb. It had felt good last time. But not like this. She had never felt every inch of a man like this. ‘It feels so good.’

Tommy tipped his head back, panting, finding a solid rhythm, but not being able to stop himself with those long strokes, pulling so smoothly from her, tipping his head down to watch the way her body clung around his, sucking him back in. ‘Oh god.’

The bone of his wrist dug into the base of her spine where his gripped her slip in his fist, tighter than before, the fabric straining around her. It had pulled away at her breasts, leaving her hardened nipples exposed to the cold air, besides the thin straps, that dug in just right against them. She pushed her chest into the fabric, needing the friction, the squeeze.

When it wasn’t enough, when it felt like all she needed, she reached down her own hand, palm against the curve of her breast, pressing the nipple between her lecherous fingers that squeezed so tightly that she had to grit her teeth.

Tommy felt her clench around him, even more so as he leant over her, keeping his firm rhythm, removing her hand and tugging harshly at the strap to get it out of his way. She whimpered at the painful, beautiful feeling of it to tightly against her before it snapped. Then his hand was on her, his fingers larger, hotter, rougher than hers, squeezing and twisting at her breast, pulling sharp pants from the both of them.

‘You like the way it stings, ey?’ he whispered behind her ear, the curve of his nail pressing into the hard point of her nipple.

She sucked in a breath through her teeth and could hear the wetness of herself sloshing around him, spreading across the back of her thighs and the base of her. It was vulgar, but intoxicating. ‘Tom-’

He fucked into her roughly, haphazardly, letting loose for a few blows, then pulled out, tugging her up by her slip and turning her to kiss her, hard and wet. His cock stood firm between them, twitching and pulsing at the loss of it’s hot and fleshy home.

His hands were firmly at the sides of her neck, fingers half interlocked behind her head, holding her face harshly against hers as he bit words out between kisses. ‘I didn’t think –‘ he moved to her throat, biting firm without warning then slicking his tongue over the marks, ‘- a good girl like you-’ he gasped and groaned, rutting his hips against her so his cock could find some friction against her stomach, ‘- would touch herself like that.’

He reached for her hand, guiding it between her legs, fingers over the top of hers as he lead them to her beating clit, pressing them firmly against it, breathing hot against her collarbone, leaving a wet trail on it where he couldn’t quite form a kiss. He lifted his face level with hers, watching her reaction as he guided her fingers to rubbing against herself, watching her lips part in little pants, eyes fixation on the gap between them.

Tommy’s fingers didn’t leave her as she sped up, the rest of his hand finding grip around hers to force her to move her hand lower, his two fingers level on top of hers, moving them to dip inside of her as a four. His own mouth dropped open as he felt the resistance, and her brow lifted in the middle to the stretching.

He led them out, and back in, more firmly this time, then pushed in with her twice, more, glancing down to her heaving chest as they did. When their joined hands pulled out, he uncurled another one of her fingers before removing his hand, murmuring to her, ‘Keep going, my love.’

Nancy pushed her own three fingers into her body, curving her hips to find the right angle, and Tommy’s tongue found her nipple, his hands gripping her waist tightly, pulling her to him as he sucked the soft peak of her breast into his mouth, lapping against it with his tongue, sucking at it so harshly that it hurt just enough. The sound as he pulled away to swap to the other was so erotic that she clenched around her own fingers, rubbing the base of her palm so firmly against herself that it ached.

‘Oh, l love you,’ he ground out, pushing his mouth against hers as if he meant to devour her. Her free had reached for his cock, relishing in the thick sticky cum seeping from the tip that she smoothed down the length of it. He moaned, thrusting up into her hand, once sharply, then again, long and drawn out. His face rolled against hers, cheek to cheek, lips against her ear. ‘I’m going to fuck you all night – till you can’t fucking walk-’

His hips and his voice jittered as he fucked her palm, gaze dropping between them to watch her fingers thrusting into herself, desperately. He set his forehead to hers, moving her hand and replacing her three fingers with three of his own, pushing them into her without even a breath of warning. Then he added the forth, his movements slowed, met with the tightness of her.

Nancy grunted, unable to speak, her chest tightening. He pushed, firm and slow at her, feeling another knuckle pop in, hearing her groan, then pulled his fingers out, rubbing against her wet spread lips, making her tremble against him, the hand at his cock having fell away.

Tommy’s eyes were on her, watching her, intent on seeing her come to piece for him. Her hands were gripping to the edge of the table behind her, knuckle white, nails leaving curved dents in the wood.

He leaned forward and sucked at her nipple, rolling it between his teeth as his free hand found anchor on the table behind her too, the other guiding his fingers into her again, coating them. His lips were against hers again, and the hotness of his mouth took away the pain of her aching calves. She’d been on her tiptoes, trying to reach the heights of pleasure.

Tommy’s fingers thrust into her a few times, then slid out, following the delve between her legs and between the thick flesh of her arse. There, he found a new place to slacken.

Nancy gasped as he rubbed against her, meeting his eyes as he looked to her, watching, waiting for her to stop him. But, oh, it felt so fine. So hot and wet. So soft. So forbidden.

His mouth opened against hers, his tongue pressing against hers, just as his middle finger pressed against the tightness of her and the very tip pushed inside. She yelped into his mouth, but groaned as he moved softly inside of her, stroking inside the first ring of muscles.

‘Tommy-’ she gasped, knees bending outwards, elbows bending as she struggled to stay standing. Her hand reached to touch her desperate dripping lips, puffy with want and need. But he moved her hand away, removing his own hands, spinning her again and roughly bending her over the table, sliding into her wet hole in one smooth action.

He loved the sound she made, little whimpers and yelps to guttural groans and sighs of his name. It was like she was drugged, or feral. She looked all feverish, all desperate for him.

Nancy turned her head, her cheek against the wood, glancing back just far enough to see that he was watching his cock rutting into her, then he watched as he pressed a finger against her arsehole, eyes flitting to her face as she scrunched her eyes closes, moaning to loud that it turned to a yell.

He bent over her, finger massaging her hole between them while his cock fucked into her cunt. His voice was filth against her ear, droplets of spit against her, sweat from his brow against her hair, ‘Would you like me to fuck you there one day, Nancy? Or to lick you? I haven’t even had a real taste of you yet. I bet you’re so sweet, my girl. So fucking sweet.’

The legs of the table were scraping against the floor with every rough thrust of his hips into her.

‘You wont be able to walk tomorrow – wont be able to run away again. I’ll fuck you like this every night if it stops you leaving,’ he grunted into her ear. ‘Would you like that, my Nancy? Ey?’

His finger pushed further inside of her, stretching her open for him, and he leaned back to watch. Her feet were barely on the ground. She couldn’t speak. She could only feel him, all of him, and the building fire in her stomach.

Tommy yelled behind her, rutting harder, fingering her harder, deeper. She felt him jitter as she tightened.

‘I’m going to – Tommy – ah,’ her voice chattered into a series of yelps, and rose into a song of ecstasy as pressure pushed against the dick inside of her. Tommy pulled out enough for the liquid to squirt out around him, his finger leaving her, his hands gripping her hips. The table screeched against the floor with his pumping into her, feeling her spray against him over and over as she yelped and whined.

‘You fucking beautiful woman,’ he gasped, grunting as he continued, harder, table legs still screeching against the floor until they both jolted, the wood finally hitting the counter on the other side. It gave Tommy the freedom to rut harder, lose complete control of his rhythm.

Nancy felt like she could cry. She was empty. So empty. She ridden so high she felt nothing, she was floating somewhere in the atmosphere, her body a vessel of chaotic pleasure. She wanted to speak, and moved her mouth to, but couldn’t. Tommy couldn’t either. Over her own moans, she could hear him, breathing hard, moaning with every riotous thrust into her.

His movements were shorter, tighter, his fingers pushing into the bruises he’d made the last time. She hoped they never faded. It made her clench, the thought of the fat of her hip, all the flesh dipped in and dark beneath his beautiful fucking hands.

‘Oh, Nancy,’ he sang, rasping her name as he came into her in jittering spurts, a hand gripping one thick arse cheek, pulling it to the side as he pulled out to the tip, watching his cock pulse his hot come inside of her. Mouth slung open, he released sounds he couldn’t control, the best coming when he slipped from her, the cold air hitting his sensitive tip, and his eyes catching a droplet of his white seed dripping from her to the floor.

Nancy would have stayed against the table, but he pulled her lightly up, still panting, but wanting so desperately to hold her.

‘Nancy,’ he murmured, kisses on any skin he could find as he sank to the ground with her curled in his lap. ‘Nancy, I love you. Look at me.’

Her eyes found his, finding them softened from before. He was Tommy again, her Tommy.

‘Hey,’ he whispered, smiling, light amusement in his eyes. ‘Hey, I love you, beautiful girl.’

‘I love you too,’ she confessed softly, gasping when he thrust his mouth onto hers. She chuckled, softly, leaning her face into his neck. He clung to her.

‘I love you,’ he said again, because he couldn’t help it, just like the moans and whines he’d made.

‘I love you, Tommy,’ Nancy whispered, softly pecking the skin of his neck where she nuzzled in.

Tommy’s eyes stayed open, gazing straight ahead, holding her tightly, fingers fiddling with a strand of her hair, feeling her there, soaking her up. Bright blue eyes, seeing nothing but her.

Chapter Text

‘Morning, petal,’ Arthur greeted softly, pecking Nancy’s temple once she’d gotten close enough to him, post in hand.

‘Cuppa?’ she offered, but her eyes flittered across the room to where Tommy had his arms crossed, head tipped back in laughter at something Lovelock had said.

Arthur scrunched up his moustache, then shook his head. ‘You see to yourself, girl.’

Tommy’s eyes caught hers, his laughter filtering out. He uncrossed his arms, shoving his hands into his pockets and lowering his head to listen to Billy. But he glanced up again, frowning at her as she stood still. One raised hand beckoned her, and she took a breath before stepping away from Arthur and crossing the room.

‘Morning, gentlemen,’ she greeted, eyes flickering across them all, trying to not gaze too openly at Tommy.

She’d been hypnotised by him, since that night. If she forgot about the London blip, and her disappearing act, she’d been hypnotised by him since the first time they’d slept with each other. And if she were really being honest, she’d been hooked from the moment she met him.

‘Cuppas?’

Tommy clicked his tongue, shaking his head, moving to step beside her and, without doubt or hesitation, set his arm around her waist, gripping her where her body curved. He picked back up his conversation with Lovelock and Scudboat, asking a question. The pair of them shared a glance before they continued speaking, and Tommy bent to her ear.

‘I’ve a job for you, my love,’ he murmured, fingers squeezing at her, lips pressing softly to the very corner of her jaw.

Nancy turned to him, with large doe eyes, and asked, ‘What is it?’

He smiled a little. ‘A nice job,’ he assured her, giving the lads a nod and walking her towards the front door.

‘I’ll need my-’

Tommy sighed, over dramatically, smirking at her as he slipped his jacket from his shoulders and held it out for her to step into, knowing fine well her scent was going to soak into it in a way that was impossible to remove.

She flashed her best innocent look, pulling her hair out from inside the coat and moving out onto the street, feeling his arm settling over her shoulders once again as they walked a little ways.

‘I have my vision, see,’ he started, pulling a cigarette from his case, using the hand of the wrist that rested on her right shoulder, setting it between her lips then leaning in to put his own in, never losing contact. His jaw brushed against hers, but he acted like nothing happened, even though Nancy felt like she could hardly breath from it.

She noticed people looking. People were always looking. She hated it and loved it. Tommy barely noticed, or pretended not to.

‘Ah yes, the vision.’

He smirked, rolling his eyes boredly at her, but leaning in to peck her cheek all the same. ‘Poll isn’t happy. Not with me, not with her life.’

Nancy’s stomach clenched. Polly had said sorry for giving her up to Tommy, but she’d not been the same since. She’d made herself scarce of both of them. Keeping conversation light, always out helping Ada with the baby or chasing Finn to school. Tommy had thrown the vase. Shouted. She'd shouted back.

‘I’ve found her son.’

Her head snapped to him, but he was frowning.

‘Anna, though. Anna’s dead,’ he confessed, low, his lips drawn down, his nose scrunching. ‘But I can still give her Michael. Give her something happy, ey?’

Nancy smiled softly, nodding, her heart aching for Polly. She was a caregiver, a mother, at heart. To have her own child back would fulfil the yearning in her soul, make her whole again. Right a few wrongs. Give her a second chance at a life she lost. ‘How can I help?’

Tommy grinned at her. ‘Well, you’re best with children, and with boys. He should be around Isiah’s age – the good lord knows you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.’

Nancy slapped his chest, receiving a barking laugh that surprised anyone within hearing range. ‘Fool.’

Tommy bit his bottom lip, shaking his head and squeezing her closer, swaggering down the street with her under his arm, feeling every bit a king. ‘I don’t think his adoptive mother would do very well with me showing up, or any of the lads. You, on the other hand, might make more sense.’

‘She won’t want me sniffing around her son, Tommy. I’m four years older than Isiah.’ She didn’t want to mention the other reason, the glaring scar across her face, that screamed trouble and torment.

Tommy shrugged his shoulders up to his ears, palms up turned in gesture. ‘I’m nine older than you – reckon I pass for less. Don’t mention your age, or don’t get close enough for her to notice.’

Nancy was grimacing, shaking her head. ‘I don’t think-’

‘Use your charms on the lad, he’ll be unable to resist,’ he pushed with a chuckle, giving her a winning smile as they slowed to a halt. His eyes flickered over her face. ‘What is it, ey?’

She gave him a meaningful look, brows lifting at the centre. She saw the moment his eyes flickered with understanding. He swallowed, looking down to their feet a moment and back up.

‘If you don’t want to do it, that’s alright.’ He set them off walking again. ‘I’ll see what I can do. Boy’s not of age to make his own choice in the eyes of the law, but I might be able to sway them.’

She knew that meant money, or worse. ‘I’ll give it a go.’

Tommy grinned, wide. Even in muggy Birmingham, it glowed. She couldn’t wait for the sun to come out, for his freckles to double, and for hers to as well. More sights for his eyes to catch on, more spots for him to press his lips to.

__________

Nancy watched the school boys filing out. Tommy had Matty parked outside Michael’s house first thing that morning, watching him, making sure he remembered his face. Now Matty sat in the car, Nancy leaning against the door smoking, trying her best to look unsuspicious.

‘That’s the one, Nance,’ Matty said, nodding towards a boy with sandy blonde hair, hands in his pockets, nodding in farewell to his school mates. ‘Go now.’

It had been a little fun, playing as one of the lads. She felt nervous until she saw Michael. He was, after all, a young boy, not a hardened gangster. She could handle young boys – older ones too.

She passed the rest of her cigarette to Matty and fixed her skirt. She’d had a few ideas in her head, a few Tommy had put there, of how she’d start a conversation with him. But by the time she set off to him, her mind wiped or every single one.

A car honked, loud, startling her. She heard Matty’s voice, swearing, and the other car stopped just short of her, twisting away so that she wouldn’t be hit.

‘Stepping out in the bloody road! Have you got a death wish, woman? Bloody maniac!’ a red faced man called from the car.

She was only really just registering the gentle hand on her elbow, and Michael, who’d tugged her to the side. She was panting, panicked. It had all happened so quickly. She looked to him, seeing his profile, eyes glaring harshly. Twisting her head, she saw Matty stepping from his car, rage on his face, hand reaching into his pocket.

‘Thank you,’ she gasped to Michael, without having to act.

‘Is that any way to speak to a woman?’ Matty spoke when he got to the other side of the mans car. The fellow inside opened his mouth, about to respond, but Nancy watched the silhouette of Matthew’s gun tapping against the rim of the mans door.

‘Jesus – come away, miss, please,’ Michael urged softly, linking his arm through hers and moving her to the pavement, head whipping this way and that to keep eyes on the confrontation. ‘Do you know that man?’

‘Ah – no. I was – I was asking him if he had seen my dog,’ Nancy said, looking back as the car started up and the man pulled away, revealing Matthew straightening out his coat. He sent her a nod, winding his finger in the air, letting her know he’d be driving around. She looked back to Michael, whose eyes had fixed on her face, looking down at her with concern. ‘He’s black, he’s been lost a while.’

Her bumbling over the lie was made more believable due to the close call with the car, and he watched her with obvious concern and compassion for her.

‘I think that you should sit down, miss,’ he stressed, nodding to a bench up the road. ‘You’re shaking.’

Nancy couldn’t speak, mostly because she hated lying so much that her own throat closed over when she tried to. She let Michael lead her to the bench, setting her there carefully as if she were very delicate before sitting beside her, watching her calm herself.

‘Thank you so much,’ she blurted, looking to him. His eyes cast down to the scar, and she must have pulled a face, because he flushed, turning his face away.

‘It’s alright, miss. Are you feeling better?’

‘Much.’

She was going to tell Tommy she couldn’t possibly do it. She couldn’t. She couldn’t.

‘Where did you lose your dog?’ he asked, looking up and down the street as if it might simply appear.

Her mouth opened, and she took a heavy breath in. ‘Oh, I was staying with family – in the next town over. Thought I’d try my luck here. He just disappeared. Poor thing.’

Michael frowned. ‘What’s his name?’

She was silent for an unnatural amount of time, until she blurted the only name that kept repeating in her head, ‘Arthur.’

Michael chuckled. ‘Peculiar name for a dog – what's yours?’

‘My?’

Licking his lips, he beamed at her, eyes flitting between hers before softly saying, ‘Your name, miss.’

‘Nancy,’ she said, and her heart lightened at the truth of it. If all went well, he’d be family to her. She smiled warmly then, looking at him as Polly’s son, rather than a stranger. ‘Nancy Owen.’

He was smiling in a lovely way, holding out his hand. ‘Henry Johnson.’

Shaking his hand, she smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear and looking down the road, wary of his gaze fixed on her. ‘You wouldn’t mind helping me look for my dog, would you?’

He seemed surprised, but pleased, agreeing before he rose. They set of walking, and Nancy watched Matty’s car drive by them, unnoticed by Michael, who said, ‘There is a path through the fields to the next town, maybe we can spot him somewhere there.’

‘Better than my plan of walking the streets,’ she said with a chuckle. As they walked, she glanced at him, trying to get a read on him, as she’d been instructed. ‘How old are you, Henry?’

‘Fifteen – almost sixteen,’ he assured her, cheeks turning a little red, not knowing if he’d said the right thing by telling the truth. He chuckled though, and Nancy thought it was good of him. Michael’s smile was easy at her warm grin. ‘Is it rude to ask you the same?’

Nancy shook her head, laughing lightly. ‘I’m a little older than you. Nineteen.’

His smiled faltered a little, but he nodded, looking out and around them as they came to a farm gate, a clear path leading over the fields to the next village. ‘Arthur! Arthur! Does he come to anything else?’

Nancy was trying not to laugh, covering her mouth as he turned towards her where they'd walked a little ways up the field. ‘Oh, Henry. I’m sorry.’

He chuckled, because she had, asking, ‘Why’s that?’

‘I don’t have a dog,’ she said with a wince. ‘I can’t possibly let you keep calling for an imaginary pet – and this trail is awfully muddy for my shoes.’

He scrunched up one side of his face, still smiling a little, mostly amused, glancing up the field and back again, shoving his hands in his pockets. ‘You lied about your dog?’

‘I just wanted to get away from any prying ears – or eyes, is all,’ she murmured, keeping her expression kind. He looked worried as her face softened, in almost a pitying way. A quiet confession: ‘I know your mum, Henry. Only she calls you Michael. Michael Gray.’

His eyes were on her scar again, and his face was no longer that of a youthful glowing golden boy. He was almost sneering. ‘What did you just say?’

Nancy took a breath. ‘My name is Nancy Owen. Your real name is Michael Gray. I live with your real mother, Polly, in Birmingham. She’s family to me.’

‘We’re family?’ he asked, grimacing, shaking his head.

‘No – no. Not quite,’ she rushed out. ‘I’ve done this all wrong, you know.’

‘Wrong?’ he asked in a breath, letting out a laughless chuckle. ‘What is going on?’

Nancy took a step towards him, but he took a step back. ‘I’m sorry, Michael,’ she begged.

‘That’s not my name,’ he warned, raising a finger. ‘That has never been my name.’

Nancy bit at her bottom lip, allowing him a minute to process what she had said. He just kept shaking his head, frowning at the ground. ‘I’m sorry, Henry.’

Grinding his teeth, he met her eye. ‘My real mum is alive?’

She nodded, sending him a wobbly smile. ‘Her name is Polly. She’s fabulous.’

‘Does she know I’m here?’

‘No, no,’ Nancy urged, moving towards him, and he let her. She stood in front of him, her eyes wide and pleading and honest. ‘She has no idea. I – I work for Polly’s nephew. He tracked you down. He wanted to be sure what you wanted first, before he brought her into it. I was – well, I was supposed to be more tactful than this.’

His lips pulled up at the side as she chuckled. He was aware of the soothing voice she was using on him, trying to coax him into trusting her, and it worked.

‘You work for my cousin then, in Birmingham?’ he asked, and she nodded. ‘Right. Right.’

Nancy sucked in her bottom lip, watching him as thoughts raced through his head. He didn’t speak for a long time, but then, when she opened her mouth to, he found his voice.

‘How did you find me? How do I know you’re telling the truth?’

Nose scrunching, Nancy dipped her hand into her coat pocket and pulled out her cigarette case. For a flash of time, just as Michael’s eyes flickered to watch her light it, she felt like Tommy. She always thought he looked so regal, so intimidating, when he lit his cigarettes, eyes to the ground, meaning business.

But she wasn’t Tommy. If she was, she would have lied to Michael, and kept on calling him Henry a little longer. He’d wanted her to get to know him first, to gain his trust. But she couldn’t. He couldn’t send her honest heart to do a conman’s job.

‘I’m telling the truth, Michael. I’d like to go back to Birmingham and tell Polly she’ll be getting to meet you soon, but I know that it will take some time for you to think. I didn’t want to come here without telling you the truth – yeah?’

He nodded, eyes flitting to her scar.

Nancy tried a smile. ‘There’s laws, we think. We're looking into it. I can't just kidnap you-’

‘But you’ll come back?’ he asked, the anger gone from his voice. He sounded small. He looked unsure if that was what he even really wanted.

‘Of course – only if you want me to,’ she said with a smile. She could hear the rumbling of Matty’s car at the end of the lane, and saw Michael’s eyes flicker to it.

‘You knew that man,’ he acknowledged softly, ‘With the gun?’

Licking her lips, scrunching her nose, Nancy nodded. ‘I’ll tell him not to bring it next time.’

‘Probably the most exciting thing to ever happen here,’ he sighed, rubbing a hand to his forehead. ‘Why did you come, why not someone from the family?’

‘I’m a softer touch, I suppose,’ she said with a chuckle, which he didn’t return. He was gazing at the car in the distance. ‘Are you happy here?’

He sneered a little, but shrugged. ‘Give or take.’

‘Safe, though?’ Nancy pressed. He was almost too defensive. Still soft, still light spoken, but with an edge.

Swallowing, Michael nodded, voice firmer, reassuring, ‘Yeah, yeah I’m safe.’

She nodded, smiling. He looked at her again, eyes flittering to her scar. ‘They’re good-hearted people. Polly, she – she’s the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met. She’s missed you.’

He squeezed his eyes shut, but nodded, fingers raising a little to stop her speaking. ‘What was your name?’

‘Nancy, Nancy Owen,’ she replied with a grin.

‘Nancy,’ he repeated, sending her a small smile. He was quite obviously overwhelmed with information, and still sceptical. But his eyes were warm. ‘When can I meet her, if I decide I want to?’

Nancy beamed at him.

___________

‘He asked about his dad,’ Nancy said, after her second visit to Michael a week later.

Tommy sat in the office at the Garrison and she stood in front of him, neatening up the stack of papers on the desk. He watched her fingers as they pressed at the pages, eyes flitting to her face.

They could barely talk about it at home, with Polly around, as well as the likes of Arthur who could never keep his mouth shut. ‘And what life is like here. I told him there was a family business. That we were comfortable. He looked like he didn’t believe me. I’ll tell you, he can be quite quick.’

‘You’re smiling,’ Tommy noted, smiling himself.

‘He’s a nice boy,’ she confirmed, setting her hands on top of the papers and smirking at the expression on his face. ‘What?’

‘I love you,’ Tommy simply shared, tipping his head back, watching her through hooded eyes. ‘Come here.’

Blushing, rolling her eyes at herself, she moved to him, letting his hands guide her sideways in his lap. Lips finding his, she melted into him. Tommy’s hand massaged into her thigh and at her waist, gripping her closely, like if he held her close enough she’d never be able to leave him. She hoped so too.

He’d barely survived being in the same room as her since the night in the kitchen without his hands on her. His eyes had never left her, not since he first met her. But now she could actually read them. She knew his glances meant something, and what they meant. The day Tommy stopped looking at her, she’d know she’d lost him.

‘Shall I get us a drink?’ he murmured against her lips, but his had stretched around the back of her neck and he pulled her closer, hips tilting to find some friction between them.

‘Fucking - for five fucking minutes, put the girl down, Tom! Jesus bloody fucking Christ!’ Arthur yelled, having opened the door and slammed it on them again.

Tommy closed his eyes, sighing tiredly, but a smile lifting his lips as Nancy sang in musical laughter. His hands followed as she lifted from him, then flopped to his sides, watching hopelessly as she tilted her head at him, looking beautiful.

‘I’ll get the drinks, and sweet talk Arthur.’

‘Ey,’ Tommy warned as she smirked, righting himself in his seat and not being able to stop the grin that pulled at his mouth. He shook his head to himself, chuckling even when the door closed.

Nancy smiled at the few scattered fellas drinking, slipping behind the bar and to Arthur’s side. He was slapping notes into the till, then slammed the drawer closed, looking to her, trying to keep his face firm.

‘You can’t charm me, Nancy-girl.’

‘I’m going to pour Tommy a drink, would you like one?’ she asked sweetly, raising her brows. ‘I’ll make it real nice.’

Sighing, but grinning, Arthur shook his head. ‘You’re a bloody nuisance. When you gonna start doing my books again, ey?’

‘I can do them for you, Arthur,’ she said, a bit horrified that she’d not even thought about the work she’d stopped doing. ‘I’m sorry – are you struggling?’

‘He’s always struggling,’ a cheeky call came from over the bar.

Nancy took a moment longer to turn than Arthur did, and while he was swearing, she sent John’s wide boyish grin a soft smile. It was nice to see him, she hadn’t in weeks.

‘Hello, Mary,’ he spoke, smile not softening. He was surprised to have found her there behind the bar, dressed nice and hair all loose.

Arthur made a noise of warning, then tsked at his brother. ‘Tom’s in the office, John. Did you need him?’

Expression faltering, John shook his head. ‘Nah, I’m just in for a drink.’

Nancy set a hand on Arthur’s arm, murmuring, ‘I’ll do it.’

She moved away, turning her back to the brothers, who were having a silent conversation, of which the language was flickering brows and widening eyes, and finally, a scoff.

Nancy caught John’s amused, challenging look at his brother as she turned to fetch their drinks. ‘Here we are.’

Arthur knocked his knuckles against her arm in thanks, sending John a sharp look as he tipped his glass back.

‘Thank you, Nancy, love,’ John murmured, sending Arthur a light mocking squint. His eyes followed her as she moved back to make up her and Tommy’s drinks and Arthur picked up a newspaper off the bar and slapped him across the top of the head with it.

Nancy sent them an amused look, making her way back to the office with her drinks. ‘He’s forgiven me, at least.’

Tommy took his drink with a chuckle.

‘John’s out there too. If you want to have a drink with them, I’ll cover the bar for Arthur for a bit.’

‘You’re not working the bar,’ he said firmly, then checked the time. ‘Harry’ll be in soon.’

‘Well why don’t we all have a drink together?’ she asked. ‘Maybe it would coax Polly out, or – god forbid – Ada or Freddie?’

Tommy tried a smile, but it was tight. He gestured for her to come to him, widening his feet so that she could stand in the gap. Rubbing at her hips, he rested his forehead against her stomach and confessed, ‘Me and John’s not much on drinking terms.’

She’d suspected as much, the pair of them keeping words to strictly business, and John not daring to enter the Shelby house apart from the shop. Running a hand in his hair, she sighed. ‘Maybe it’s a good time for you two to have a drink, get everything out.’

Tommy laughed, shaking his head as he leaned back. ‘If only you knew, my girl.’

She opened her mouth to ask, but Tommy spoke over her, hands raised in defence:

‘I’ll talk to him. It’s about time this family started acting like one.’

‘If you’re talking about-’

‘I’ll pay Esme a visit tomorrow, see if she’s open to reconciliation.’

Nancy wanted to say something ugly, so she kept her mouth shut. Her eyes must have said it all though, and the light grind in her jaw, but Tommy broke into a laugh so loud it could be heard all the way at the bar.

Chapter Text

Nancy knocked lightly on Polly’s door that was cracked ajar, sneaking her head in through the gap and seeing her sat at her mirror, fixing her hair. ‘Morning, Polly.’

‘Morning, love,’ she replied with a light smile. ‘Everything alright?’

‘Grand,’ she sighed out, closing the door over and moving to sit on the edge of the bed, watching Polly slide another pin into her hair. ‘You look lovely today.’

‘Sunday best – you coming?’

Nancy smiled at Polly’s reflection. ‘Yeah, that okay? I’m sorry I haven’t been.’

‘You’ve been busy,’ she said in a low velvety voice, smirk on her face like a feline. ‘I understand. I’m glad you are going out and around, done with hiding yourself away.’

‘Doesn’t do well, does it,’ she replied, tilting her head and watching Polly finish off her hair with a few light taps of her fingers. She patted some colour to her lips, then rose from the stool and grabbed her handbag.

‘Come on then, tag along,’ Polly said with a chuckle. She pushed Finn’s door open to see him lazing on the bed, shirt half buttoned, flicking a ball up at the ceiling. ‘Church?’

‘No thanks,’ he chirped back, not pausing his throwing.

Polly scoffed and the girls moved past the doorway, only to hear him call after them:

‘You look nice - both of you!’

Nancy chuckled, and Polly attempted to hide her amused smirk as they made their way downstairs. The tension had lessoned between Polly and Tommy, but they were still somewhat at odds.

Yet, Tommy smiled and greeted her. ‘Off for service, Poll?’

‘Yes, taking your missus to try wash some of the sin away that she’s soaked up spending so much time in your presence. That alright?’ she said, not unkindly.

Tommy tried not to smile too wide, or Polly would be irritated with him. She wanted to be nice, but not too nice. She didn’t want to amuse him too much, let him think they were back to being fully friends.

‘By all means, she’s yours for the day,’ he said with a wink to Nancy.

‘Come on, Nance. Wonder what mischief two young women can get up to with a whole day free roaming the city? Best have you back before dark, though, ey?’

Nancy lightly tapped the back of her fingers to Polly’s shoulder, who actually chuckled. ‘Go on.’

Polly moved for the door, leaving room for Tommy to step to Nancy and slip a hand to the back of her neck, murmuring to her parted lips, ‘Say hello to Dan for me?’

‘Of course,’ she whispered, pressing her lips to his, then pulling back just enough to ask, ‘Home for dinner?’

He hummed his confirmation, leaning in for a final lazy kiss, free hand gripping her skirts at her hip for a moment before releasing her. ‘Bye, love.’

‘Bye, Tom.’

Polly had lit up, waiting impatiently outside. Her mood had changed, but Nancy was patient with her. She knew what it was to be angry with Tommy – the man it was impossible to not be angry with, and impossible to be all at the same time.

Their walk was quiet, but that wasn’t unnatural. What was unnatural was the way that Nancy could feel the weight of the air between them. It had been weeks. She couldn’t cope with the air between them being uncomfortable.

‘Pol, are you still sore with Tommy – for how he acted that night?’ she asked, keeping her voice steady.

‘I’m always angry with him, it’s how we operate. Anything else would be seriously out of character,’ she said flippantly, if anything, walking a little faster.

‘Well, how can we get back to how things were? Has he apologised?’

‘Of course he bloody hasn’t – not properly, anyways,’ she said, scoffing, shaking her head. She wouldn’t look at her. She was practically marching.

‘Polly – Polly,’ Nancy gasped out, quickly stepping to catch up with her. Polly paused, finally meeting her eye, danger in them. ‘Can we talk about it? You know he’s too proud to come to you himself.’

Polly grit her teeth, looking up and down the road, gripping the strap of her bag in her fist. She sighed, gesturing with a nod of her head for Nancy to follow.

They ended up at the canal, of course, at a quiet section, away from the church goers and the Sunday come downers, strolling home or to the holy house.

Polly glared at the water, then at Nancy. ‘Went to the barber's yesterday with Finn and John’s boys.’

Nancy frowned, opening her mouth to speak, but Polly rose a finger.

‘Don’t you speak, Nancy Owen. You’ll get your turn.’

Oh. It hadn’t occurred to Nancy that she was the one that Polly was angry with.

Polly watched Nancy’s face as she spoke. ‘Kenny said he hasn’t seen you for months. Months. And here I was thinking you were visiting him once a week for the past, what is it, four, five weeks?’

Jaw slung open, Nancy was rapidly trying to think of a way out of the predicament that she was in. ‘Oh, Polly-’

‘Not yet!’ Polly snapped. She looked heart broken. ‘I don’t know if Tommy has set you up doing something for him – something dodgy. In which case you’re both idiots – him for asking you and you for saying yes. Or if it’s you who is the fool for messing behind his back.’

‘Po-’

Polly lifted her gun, pointing it at Nancy, eyes watering. Her voice trembled. ‘Tell me right now if you’re messing Tommy about. And if you are, I’ll put a bullet in you. If you’re not, and I hope to God you aren’t, then you need to tell me where you’ve been every Wednesday for the past month.’

‘Polly, please put the gun dow-’

Polly stepped forward, until the barrel of the pistol was at Nancy’s forehead, pushing into it. She was venomous: ‘He might be a shit, Nancy. But he’s my nephew. My blood. My boy. I’ll not sit back and watch anyone hurt him.’

Nancy whimpered lightly. She didn’t think that Polly would shoot her, not really. It was so out of the realms of belief that she couldn’t accept it even then. But for Polly to be angry with her, to be sneering at her, thinking something so awful of her – it was breaking her heart.

‘Who have you been with?’ Polly yelled, nudging the gun firmer against her. Her expression didn’t match her voice. Her eyes were wide, terrified, tear filled. Her chin was trembling, lips squashed together to stop them grimacing at the pain of it all.

‘Michael – I’ve been visiting Michael,’ she gasped out, then begging, ‘Please put the gun down, Polly. Please. It’s Michael – Michael, your son.’

Jaw slack, she half lowered her hand. ‘What?’

Tears ran fast down Polly’s shocked face as she watched Nancy try to calm her breathing. ‘Tommy found him, and I’ve been getting to know him, letting him get to know us a little before he decides what he wants. It was supposed to be a surprise. I’m so sorry, Polly.’

‘Michael?’ she asked, finally lowering her arm. Realisation flickered on her face, what she’d just done. ‘Oh, Nancy.’

She didn’t want her to touch her, not yet. She babbled out, ‘He wants to meet you. He just says a little longer. But he asked if I’d keep coming back, so I go every week. His adoptive family think he is part of a book club or something, I don’t know. But, Polly, he’s lovely. He’s kind, he’s sweet, caring, funny. All we talk about is you.’

Polly’s hand went to her forehead, delicate, trying to hold still her racing thoughts.

‘I’m sorry, Polly.’

Polly wasn’t looking at her, merely gazing at the ground. ‘What about Anna, my Anna?’

‘Polly,’ Nancy said in a breath, making brown eyes flash to hers. ‘I’m sorry.’

Polly took a step back, hand raised in defence, gun hanging in the other one. ‘Go home, Nancy.’

‘Polly-’

‘No!’ Polly barked, pain flashing in her eyes. ‘Not now. I can’t.’

‘Let me sit with you,’ Nancy begged, but Polly took a step back, shaking her head. Nancy swallowed, and stepped forward again. When the other woman didn’t move, she took another step, and another, until finally, she was close enough to wrap her arms around Polly.

She sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed.

___________

Nancy delivered Scudboat and Lovelock their Monday morning cuppas, sipping her own as she leaned back against the wall beside the giant of a man. ‘Billy?’

‘Yes, love?’ Lovelock replied, sighing in content at the cup of tea.

‘I need to get a note to Matthew, from Tommy. Do you know where he lives?’ she murmured low.

‘He’ll be at the day job, Nance. I can fetch it to him if you needs be?’ Billy offered, but she shook her head.

‘No, no. That’s alright. Where does he work?’

__________

Charlie scrunched his nose, watching Nancy sway her way across the yard towards him in her pretty lilac dress and hat. ‘That’s far too nice a dress to be dossing the yard, Miss Owen.’

‘I’m just on an errand. Is Matthew here?’ she asked, keeping her chin high. She’d avoided Charlie at all costs, getting the distinct feeling that he didn’t want her around, no matter how polite he was to her.

He frowned, but nodded. ‘Tommy sending you on jobs?’

‘I’ve always done jobs for Tommy,’ she said simply, with a sweet smile. She pointed towards one of the buildings, ‘This way?’

Charlie eyed her sceptically, then called over his shoulder, ‘Matty! Here, lad.’

Matty was in casual gear, thick working trousers and a filthy half open shirt, face and arms dirty too. His face was in a squint as he marched out, but when he saw Nancy, he looked almost embarrassed. He whipped off his hat.

‘Miss Nancy,’ he greeted, nodding his head to her, looking her over. She looked brighter than ever, in the grime of the yard.

‘I need a favour, Matthew,’ she announced, then looked to Charlie. ‘Can I steal him from you?’

Charlie’s tongue rolled around his mouth, and he looked Matty over, then looked at the time. ‘Suppose Tommy’s more important than my coal house, ey? Away with you.’

‘Cheers, Charlie,’ Matty gasped out, running his hand back through his hair a few times before fixing his hat on his head.

Charlie watched them walk out of the yard, sighing as he picked up a shovel.

‘I didn’t know you worked on the yard too,’ Nancy said lightly as Matty ran an outdoor tap over his hands, rubbing up his arms and down his face.

‘I always was on the yard, before Tommy pulled me off,’ he shared, rubbing water across the back of his neck before rising, twisting the tap off and checking over his hands. He was all flustered, awkward. ‘What is it Tom wants me for?’

‘To take me and Poll through to see Michael,’ she lied, setting off to walk again with him. ‘That alright?’

‘Yeah, I’ve got the car a street over. Is Polly at home?’

Nancy looked up, gesturing to where Polly stood waiting. As they approached, Polly put her foot in it, ‘Thanks for this, Matthew. You’ll be an innocent if Tommy goes ballistic.’

‘Ey?’ he said, looking to Nancy with a frown. ‘He doesn’t know, does he?’

‘Matty, please,’ Nancy tried, but he was shaking his head, raising his hands in defence, the gesture begging her to stop.

‘I can’t do it. I’m sorry, ladies. I am. But I can’t go by his back,’ he said, with real remorse.

Nancy frowned at Polly, who bit at the inside of her cheek in thought, then smiled.

‘That’s alright, Matthew. Couldn’t drop us round John’s, could you?’

Matty looked like he wanted to say no, but nodded, sighing, and setting off for the car, the pair behind him leaning their heads together as they followed.

‘I thought you were just going to tell him the truth,’ Polly whispered.

‘I knew he wouldn’t say yes!’ Nancy whispered back, gripping Polly’s elbow as they rushed to keep up. ‘Esme will kill me if she sees me.’

Polly cackled. ‘Two death threats in twenty four hours, hark at you.’

‘Oh, shut up!’ Nancy whispered back as they reached the car, which made Polly laugh more. But the older woman squeezed her affectionately.

‘You wait with Matty, and I’ll coax John.’

‘Will he go for it?’ Nancy asked unsurely.

Polly paused, looking to her. ‘He might do it for me, but he’d definitely do it for you. You’d just have to avoid Esme’s fist while you asked him.’

‘Oh, get in the bloody car.’

Polly cackled, and Matty sent Nancy a frown as she got into the back instead of the front. He watched her in the rear view mirror, slipping down in her seat when they reached John’s street, and leaning her head beside his chair, keeping low to watch Polly knock on the door.

Jamie answered, and Nancy sighed in relief.

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea to wrong him, Nancy,’ Matty told her lowly. ‘If it’s not out of turn for me to say so.’

‘We’re friends, Matthew. You can say whatever you feel. But this is important. And Tommy complicates things that don’t need to be complicated.’

Highly uncomfortable, he stayed silent. He heard the light breath Nancy drew in when John came to the door, and glanced up the street towards them. Then the one she steadily blew out, when John visibly smirked, that half smile tugging heavily at one side of his mouth.

'I'll have to tell him, you know? I have to.'

Nancy looked to Matthew, desperate, pleading. 'Just give us an hour head start, Matthew? Please?'

He frowned, lips twisting as he bit at the inside of his cheek. He looked to John, who was nodding to Polly. 'Yeah. Yeah, an hour.'

Chapter Text

John was not as gentle a driver as Tommy. It was much like him really. Tommy - smooth, calm, collected, most of the time. John took every turn too fast, slowed too late. Nancy watched him from the backseat, barely realising she’d been doing so until Polly sucked in a heavy breath.

‘You’re alright, Poll,’ John murmured, giving her shoulder a squeeze, sending her a light smile. ‘We’re with ya.’

‘He’s going to love you,’ Nancy assured her, leaning forward to touch her other shoulder. ‘Drop me off outside of the school and I’ll catch him coming out. If you get to the top of this road there is a farm gate, leads to the field where we meet. Park somewhere up there and I’ll walk around with him.’

Polly could only nod, eyes beginning to scan the boys walking the streets the nearer they drew to the school.

‘Let me out here,’ Nancy said quickly, spotting Michael just heading out the doors.

John watched her climb out over his shoulder, eyes following her as she rushed across the street.

‘Oi, Henry, your girlfriend has come to see you!’ one of the school boys called, unaware of the burning glare they received from inside the car.

John went to set off for the field with a sigh, but Polly put a hand on his arm, murmuring, ‘Wait – just wait till she gets to him.’

He nodded, pressing lips together and watching Nancy as she met the boy at the gate. He could hear Polly’s breathing, heard one of her knuckles crack as she squeezed her fingers together tightly.

Nancy ignored the car as it by passed them, looking at Michael hopefully, eyes like a doe, worried and blown wide. ‘She couldn’t wait.’

Michael was blinking fast, nodding. He swallowed, looking around them, making sure no one had over heard, then gave a firmer nod. ‘Alright.’

Nancy grinned, the most emotive he’d seen her, which was saying a lot. She was always grinning, always laughing openly, but soft all the same. She gripped his arm. ‘Oh, I’m so pleased! I’m so sorry for springing it on you so unexpectedly.’

‘That’s alright,’ he sounded out, but his throat was audibly tight – dry. He was running a hand back through his hair as they walked and asked, ‘Do I look alright?’

She chuckled at his sheepish expression and stopped him, gripping one forearm.

John watched in the rear view mirror as she unrolled his sleeves, telling him to tuck his shirt in whilst she fiddled with a few stray hairs at his forehead. She was always mothering, was Nancy. But not in a smothering, over bearing way. In a lovely way. Making sure everyone had what they needed. He supposed that's why the kids loved her so much, because she was there for them. She'd do anything for anyone - even more for some.

Polly was too busy fixing herself up in her compact to notice them fussing. But John saw Michael’s flush, his lit up eyes as he looked back at Nancy who brushed off his shoulders and gave him a firm nod.

He had to look away, actually. It did something vile to his stomach to see her like that. Like a stranger, out in the grass and the sunshine, looking so lit up and beautiful. He couldn’t see her scar from the way she was facing. Couldn’t see that sheen in her eye she got when she looked at him – that wary worrying look that he might do or say something that she wouldn’t know what to do with.

He was gritting his teeth, wishing he could meet her again, before the start of everything. That he could have gone round Whiz-Bang’s house one day on an errand and she’d opened the door, bare foot as she often was, face flushed from standing over the stove, sleeves rolled and eyes bright. Before the world got to her. Before they got to her.

‘Jesus bloody Christ,’ Polly whispered as Nancy saw Michael through the gate, giving his hand a light squeeze and nodding him to keep on the path. ‘Is there a single man not enchanted by Nancy frigging Owen?’

John smirked – not smirked, actually. He smiled. A proper smile. Not cheeky, not teasing. Just an undoubtable grin. ‘I don’t think so, Poll.’

She looked at him, a flash of pity in her eyes, mothering him for a moment with a touch to his knee.

‘Off with you,’ John said, nodding in gesture to Nancy just before she opened Polly’s door.

She grinned. ‘He’s waiting a little ways up the path. There’s a bench. He’s excited, Poll. I promise.’

John gave Polly’s hand a sweet kiss, watching to make sure she got from the car alright, and sucked in a breath as Nancy climbed in, swiftly turning to face the fields. She leaned around him, watching Polly opened and close the gate, and trundle her way towards her son.

Nancy felt a little sick, really. He’d been so surprised, so horrified really. But excited, she could tell.

Neither of them spoke until Polly reached Michael, who had quickly stood, running a hand through his hair again and waiting stock straight until she reached him. They shared a few quite words, and lunged towards each other all of a sudden, wrapping arms around one another and staying that way for a long while.

‘He a good lad?’

Nancy had been so busy watching them she’d almost forgotten she was in a car with John. But she smiled, chuckling a little to herself. ‘Yeah, he’s smart too. Good with numbers. Really polite.’

John smiled as the pair separated and Polly was visibly grinning, pulling Michael to sit beside her on the bench. He cleared his throat, looking generally in Nancy’s direction. ‘How’ve you been getting down here?’

‘Matthew has been driving me,’ she said, digging in her purse for her cigarette case.

John chuckled in shock, shaking his head. ‘Tom couldn’t have asked me or Arthur to do it?’

‘Arthur’s always drunk and you have enough kids to chase about, let alone Michael too,’ Nancy replied kindly, holding out her open case to him with a simple smile. It was the first time they’d really met eyes in a while, and it felt significant in a way.

Glancing back to Polly, to make sure nothing was amiss, John took a smoke, muttering a thanks with it between his lips. He lit his own, then offered her his flame, watching as she sucked up the heat, the tip of the cigarette burning orange.

‘He knew I trusted Matthew,’ she said quietly after a little while, not wanting John thinking any more ill of Tommy. ‘Knew he could drive. Knew he could trust him.’

‘More than his own brothers?’ he asked, not nastily, just as if in normal conversation. He licked his lips and looked to her, watching her cheeks begin to flush. It stirred something inside of him, being able to see that she was affected by them being alone together, even if it was anger, or upset, or discomfort. Any affect was better than a bitter void of nothing – of no feeling at all. He’d take anything he could get, really.

Nancy took a steadying breath, tapping her ash and barely meeting his eye as she mumbled, ‘He feels like he can trust Matthew around me, John. You know how he feels.’

‘He’s spoken to you about it?’

‘No,’ she assured him firmly, frowning at his shocked, almost angered, questioning. ‘Not that it’s any of your business what me and him do or don’t speak about.’

John rolled his eyes, sighing and leaning back in his chair. They were silent again, both watching Polly and Michael as they spoke. Then John blurted, ‘I just didn’t want him speaking to you about it like how he speaks to me about it.’

‘He doesn’t speak to me about it because it isn’t a problem between me and him.’

‘Then how do you know he’s got a problem at all?’

‘John-’

He grinned at her frustrated sigh, to which she glared – to which he chuckled. He looked down to his hands, because watching her fight a grin was far too sweet for serious.

‘Idiot.’

He smiled, glancing, finding her watching him with a frown. He looked away.

Nancy forced herself to stay silent the rest of the time she smoked, and stayed silent after that, even as John started flicking his lighter open and closed – the sound of it snapping shut becoming so grating that she was about to scold him when he stopped.

Michael and Polly had stood, and were making their way towards the car.

Nancy climbed out, stepping around the front to greet them. John watched on, until they were coming to his door.

‘Fucking hell,’ he murmured, then cleared his throat, opening up the window and sticking his head out. ‘Alright, Michael, lad?’

‘John, your cousin,’ Polly told Michael, hands wrapped around his forearm, beaming at John as if he were suddenly some great shining light in her life. If this was how Polly was going to be from now on, John would put Michael in the back and drive him to Birmingham that very afternoon, never to leave again.

Michael had a firm handshake, even for a kid. John gave him a nod, and a wink, finding it difficult not to grin as Polly practically danced beside them.

‘Nice to meet you,’ he said, trying to seem grown, but then chuckled, adding, ‘Again, I suppose.’

John laughed, nodding. ‘It is, kid, aye. When you coming to live with your mother then, ey?’

Nancy rolled her eyes, but John only squinted with one eye, lifting his hand to block the sun from his face.

‘I need to talk to Tom, see what’s what. Then,’ Polly said, gripping hold of Michael again. ‘My boy can come home.’

Michael, by the looks of it, seemed to agree with her, and held her tightly when she said goodbye.

John watched him hold tightly to Nancy too, giving her an extra squeeze, murmuring, ‘Thank you, Nancy. Thank you so much.’

She grinned, pulling away, and touched his arm with affection before moving to get in the car. With both girls loaded, John looked to Michael, raising a brow to him, having caught his gaze lingering.

Michael had the good in him to look ashamed, and lowered his gaze. ‘Hope to see you again, John.’

‘You will,’ he promised, then, starting the engine, pick between his teeth, he gave him a nod. ‘See ya, kid. Take care of yourself.’

‘You too – and them,’ Michael added, voice a little shaky. It was clear to them he had some confidence, probably amongst boys his own age. But when faced with John, he was stumbling a little.

The trio drove away, and Polly beamed the whole way home.

----------

Nancy lay in bed. It was bad of her, but she’d been thrilled when Tommy hadn’t been home when they got there. She’d raced from John’s car like the seats were burning, rushing into the house to be the first to meet him so that it wouldn’t be Polly who got the first of his glares. Hoping she could soak up some of the anger before he got to her.

She and Polly had sat on her bed, talking about Michael at long length, and a little about Anna too. She could see Polly felt guilt, for being so thrilled about Michael that she’d not yet fully grieved Anna. It would come though.

Nancy had left her when Polly went downstairs to fix herself a drink, then took to her own room to await Tommy. It wasn’t that she was nervous of him, or worried he’d be angry. She was angry with him already, just at the idea of him being angry.

She’d done the best she could with a bad situation. Was she supposed to let Polly go on thinking she was having some sordid affair to keep the secret a bit longer?

She heard him come in around half nine, and sat up on the bed to listen. There was no shouting, no crashing of flying vases or cups. In fact, it was so quiet that it unsettled her more than any argument would have. The Shelby house didn't feel like a strange haunting creature to her anymore, not like it used to. It was life for her now, her forever home. But times like these, she felt like that girl again, the girl who'd come from the brothel, who was mostly being kept against her will, waiting on her big brother to come rescue her and who was terrified of Thomas Shelby.

So, barefoot, in her shorts and camisole, Nancy slipped passed Finn’s room - closing the door fully for him just in case it was she who was going to cause the raised voices - and down the stairs, hearing murmuring. Polly straightened, having been pouring herself a drink, turning to reveal Tommy in the armchair, smiling softly at her.

Polly was drunk, in a gleeful, soft way. She kissed Nancy’s cheek, long and firm. ‘Goodnight, beautiful girl. Thank you, I love you.’

‘Love you too, Poll,’ Nancy chuckled, kissing her back, and glancing back as she swayed to the stairs, waiting until she was half way up to turn to Tommy. ‘Drink?’

He lifted his hand, showing he had a few sips left, and tilted his head to her, looking her over. ‘Busy day, ey?’

‘Polly is so happy,’ she gushed, thinking, if she went into this all positive, it might end that way. The room was cosy though, full of good air that buzzed lightly around her, that feeling of left over joy from a happy conversation.

‘She is.’

‘I’m sorry for spoiling the surprise.’

Tommy shrugged and Nancy neared him, hands finding her bare thighs and pulling her to stand between his spread legs as he massaged the soft skin there. ‘It’s alright, love. She knows it was me that found him. She told me about the gun. You alright?’

‘I wasn’t,’ she chuckled, resting hands at the sides of his neck, finger tips caressing the short hairs at the back of his head. ‘But I made it right – as right as I could.’

‘You could have told me,’ he sighed, but smiled, understanding. Tommy looked up at her as if she fascinated him, as if he couldn’t take his eyes away.

‘I didn’t want you to be mad at Polly for the gun, or mad at me for telling the secret – I wanted it all sorted so you had nothing to deal with,’ she said, lowering herself to her knees so that their faces were nearer level.

Tommy’s brow flicked up ever so slightly, trying to read her expression as her hands met his thighs.

‘I know you work hard enough,’ she said, and it became clear to him that the angelic Nancy Owen wouldn’t be having the same ugly thoughts he was.

Not ugly though, not to him. Surely even God wouldn’t find Nancy on her knees to be a sinful thing. She was worshipping, after all.

‘I didn’t want to make another mess for you to clean up,’ she finished, smiling softly. She was so relieved that it hadn’t gone sour, that they hadn’t become another mess to clean up. That they actually could go past bumps in the road of their life without flying off into a ditch everytime.

Tommy’s eyes had gone hooded, head tilted back as he looked down at her. His chest was tight, his whole body felt tight. He watched Nancy’s hands softly caress his thighs, and then as they hesitated a moment. Glancing to her face, he saw the realisation, and she began to move her hands again.

‘John thought you might be angry he’d driven us,’ she said low, watching his expression glaze over.

‘John should keep his mouth shut.’

‘He didn’t say anything bad, just seemed upset you hadn’t asked him to help instead of Matthew.’

Tommy sighed, setting his elbows on his knees, leaning out to her, close to her face, brows flickering as he glanced from eye to eye. ‘If I’d have asked him, he’d had asked me why I was treating him like a fucking chauffeur. I can’t please my brothers, Nancy. But Matty was grateful for the job, for the extra money. He minds you well, you trust him. John wouldn’t have been grateful – not in the same way, anyways.’

Settled back on her folded legs, she nodded, but lightly said, ‘I think it would have been fair to involve him and Arthur in some way, is all?’

Tommy gazed at her a little while, his eyes failing him by softening for her. ‘You’re a sweetheart. Always have been.’

Nancy smiled softly, raising back onto her knees, so close that their noses almost brushed. Murmuring, she said, ‘Your sweet clean girl, hey?’

Tommy’s lips squirmed in a smirk, head tilting. ‘You don’t like that, sweetheart?’

‘I just don’t think it’s always true,’ Nancy challenged, feeling her own cheeks darkened with blush, and knowing fine well he’d seen it. He saw everything, after all.

Tommy licked his lips, eyes flittering around her face, asking straight, ‘When isn’t it?’

‘Maybe when I’m angry,’ she said, hands on his shoulders, sliding down to his chest. ‘Or when I’m alone with you.’

‘Like now?’ he asked, revealing nothing of torment besides the fire in his eyes and the tight breath he took in. Voice still steady, face still smooth. Nancy nodded and it almost killed him. A hum broke from him, a little crackled.

Small, soft hands pushed lightly at his chest so he'd lean back again in his seat, then continued, trailing down to his thighs. Her eyes didn’t leave his though. Not even as she opened his trousers and took him in hand, or as she bent her head to wrap her lips around him.

----------

By morning, any hint of an argument or upset had fizzled away, until Tommy skipped down the stairs and into the shop, to find John there, chuckling with Billy, patting his chest.

John swallowed as Tommy came to stand with them. He could see that sharp look in his eye, the flatness of the rest of his face, void of expression. ‘Listen, Tom, can we talk outside?'

‘Morning,’ Nancy’s voice sang. She twirled into view with a tray, three cups of tea on it and two plates of toast. She set Scudboat’s down first, to which he gave a grateful thanks and a nod. Then Billy had his toast set on Scud’s desk, and lifted his own cup off the tray for her, knocking her arm to thank her.

John watched as she lowered the tray to her side in one hand, the other holding Tommy’s cup out to him by the handle which he took by the rim. His brother's face was lit up, light.

‘Sorry, John. I’ll go fix you one up, I didn't know you were in,’ she said, but grinned at Tommy.

Scud chuckled as she swag her hips back out of the room, and Billy joined him.

‘Wee lass has her glow back, Tom.’

‘Aye, and she’d crawl on glass for you, that’s for sure,’ Scud added, shaking his head as Nancy greeted Frankie and Simon before slinking back to the main house.

John watched Tommy roll his eyes at their teasing, but he could see the sparkle in him as he said, ‘She’s not always so perky in the mornings.’

‘Oh aye, we’ve seen that too,’ Billy barked, laughing. ‘Either way, sore or sweet, she’s fixed on you, lad. I’ll bet they’re wed by winter, Scuddy. Whadda’you think?’

‘Oh, I’d say by autumn,’ he announced, fairly firmly, then looked to John. ‘You in, Johnny? What’s your bet, ey?’

John and Tommy had locked eyes. There was no bitterness, no anger. Understanding, maybe. Acceptance? No, not quite.

‘Ah, leave him out of it. He’s enough bets on the horses already,’ Tommy said, earning chuckles, and a look from John that was just short of haunted.

Tommy's expression might have been blank, but only in John's eyes did it twist into an evil smirk that spoke silently: 'Look, they all see it too. How she loves me, how she's mine. Not yours. But oh, I can tell you wish it was you, Johnny. I can tell. I can see you. And I no longer care.'

‘Here you go, John,’ Nancy arrived, a little breathy, holding a cup of tea to him with a smile.

He could barely pull his eyes from Tommy’s. Tommy, who looked at him like he saw right through to his soul, and whose own soul was simply shrugging, daring him to challenge him now he had gotten a good read on him. The way he'd helped him swerve the question, it was as if Tommy didn't even think his soul was a threat. As if he pitied him.

He could hardly bare the thought of interacting with her in front of him, but John couldn’t be cruel or dismissive, not by now, not after every shit thing he’d done before.

His big brother’s eyes stayed on his as he sniffed, giving a tightened smile to Nancy, thanking her and taking the cup before look back to him.

No one else seemed to notice the way Tommy ever so slightly shook his head at John, letting him know he was a bloody fool.

John didn't need Tommy's all knowing gaze to tell him that though. He knew by the way the whole side of his body burnt on the side where she stood.

Oh, he knew. He knew.

Chapter Text

‘Nancy-girl! Nancy!’ Arthur’s gruff bark came through the house. ‘Come the blood hell on, girl!’

‘Fuck off, Arthur!’ Ada yelled from the bedroom door. She turned back into Nancy and Tommy’s room, giving Nancy a raised brow. ‘He’ll come up here.’

Nancy swiftly flicked her hair from under the neckline of her dress, running her fingers through it with a pin in her mouth which she then shoved in to keep her hat on. ‘Bloody stupid men – don’t you grow up to be one, Karl.’

Karl grinned, giggling because his mother did. ‘Annie-Nancee, bye-bye, bye-bye.’

‘Bye-bye, lovely boy,’ she breathed, bending down to kiss his lovely face. Then she kissed Ada, sighing, ‘I wish you were coming.’

‘No you don’t, I’d just moan the whole time about cruelty to horses. Besides, I’ve got a few more things at home to pack away,’ she said, with a little regret in her voice as she tilted her head to smile admiringly at Nance.

It was a big weekend for the Shelby/Thorne/Gray/Owen’s, or, as everyone referred to them, ‘That Blinders lot.’ Freddie took most offense to it, even more so when people called him Freddie Shelby. He and Ada were off to London, to get away from it all, to make a new life. Ada had talked big of it at first, but Nancy, her very best friend by now, could tell she was getting a little nostalgic for home already.

Ada fought against every Shelby thing about her, but she couldn’t deny loving her brothers, loving Poll, even loving Birmingham. She’d be back. Of course she would. For better or for worse.

‘I’ll see you tonight,’ Nancy urged, gripping her hand tightly a moment.

‘Nancy, I’ve all the love in the world for you, I do, but if you don’t get your arse down these stairs I’ll leave without ya, and let bloody Tommy shoot me for it n'all!’

Ada breathed a laugh at Arthur’s hollering, her smile sweet and soft. ‘You look lovely, Nancy Owen.’

It wouldn’t do if either of them started crying now, given they still had until Monday together. But with Monday came even more to think about.

Polly had held off preparing for Michael, setting all her attentions on Polly and Karl besides the weekly visit she’d picked up from Nancy. After months of sneaking around, and making arrangements, he’d arrive on the Friday, god willing that all went well, and Nancy had agreed to give Polly a hand clearing out and painting up her old room for him starting first thing Tuesday.

It wasn’t only that, though. Polly wanted the whole house spotless, the shop too. But Nancy would do it for her, she had the time. She’d picked back up on her Fridays in the shop, fixing up Arthur’s numbers for him, and some of Tommy’s too. The rest of the week she was a free woman, mostly cooking, or visiting with Ada. She and Tommy would take walks, drives out. Life had returned to a time before London, only bigger and better.

Arthur rose a thick brow to her from where he stood at the bottom of the stairs, shaking his head but unable to not smile back at her grin. ‘Get in the car, trouble.’

Chuckling, she skipped out to the street, beaming at Matty and Isiah from where they sat in the back seat. ‘Morning, boys.’

Isiah tipped his hat. ‘Morning, Miss Nancy.’

‘Looking swell,’ Matty granted her once she’d climbed in, Arthur checking his watch as he shut the door.

‘I hope it’s shite!’ Finn yelled from his bedroom window, and Isiah put two fingers up at him, barking laughter.

‘Oi!’ Arthur growled, pointing up to him in warning as he rounded to get in the drivers side. ‘You mind yourself today, little brother. Go help Ada with her boxes.’

Finn pulled a face, slamming his window shut but then rethinking and opening it a crack, letting some of the hot summer air into his room. Polly had been making them have all the windows open, to move the air about she said. To freshen the house for Michael coming. In all honesty, she’d been driving them all a bit round the bend.

The car started rumbling, and Nancy glanced sideways to find an offered flask of whiskey at her shoulder. She took it, sending Isiah a scolding raise of her brow as she took a drink before passing it back.

Matty grinned, taking an offering next.

‘Don’t look at me like that, Miss Nancy, I’m seventeen now,’ Isiah defend, hand on his heart.

She looked him over with a smirk. ‘Still look like a boy to me, don’t you think, Arthur?’

‘Don’t make the boy bloody weep on his first day at the races,’ he chuckled out, shaking his head. He was all excitable himself, jittering about in his seat as he drove.

Nancy chuckled, rolling her eyes and leaning back in her seat. Isiah nudged her again with the flask and she took a deeper swig, watching as the bricks passing by them blurred to greenery.

It was her first day at the races too, the excitement only dampened slightly when they approached Tommy and the others near the bar, and Tommy looked her over with a soft smile, before his eyes caught on Arthur and he squinted.

‘Hello, my love,’ Tommy spoke, setting his arm around her as he always did, keeping her tucked in as he leaned his face close into Arthur’s. ‘I told you no bloody nonsense when she’s in the car, yeah? Did you hear me when I said that, brother?’

‘Only a little bit, Tom, bout an hour before we set off, I-’

Tommy’s eyes firmed, leaning further in, a hand patting Arthur’s chest, to any onlookers seeming like he might be fixing his brothers coat. ‘Don’t ever fucking do that again when she’s going to be in with you.’

‘Right, Tom. You’re right,’ Arthur sighed, cheeks reddened but his eyes still wide, skittering. ‘Sorry, Nancy, love.’

Nancy didn’t speak, because she had barely a clue what they were speaking about, and instead gave him a gentle smile as he stepped away to greet the boys. She looked around them, at all the people, buzzing, laughing, betting. It was like the pub, but bigger, busier, and without all the familiar faces.

‘You look beautiful, as usual,’ Tommy spoke, pulling her from her trance. His mouth tugged up at one side. ‘Alright?’

Sucking in a breath through her teeth, she nodded. ‘Just busy, is all, isn’t it?’

Tommy agreed, more so than just with a nod. She could see in his eyes that it unsettled him too, and he allowed her to sense it, with the small smile he gave her. ‘Let’s get a drink and get out there, ey?’

Matty already had a cup for her, and John one for Tommy.

‘Alright,’ was the roughly drawled greeting she had from John as he passed Tommy’s drink over Isiah’s shoulder. His eyes scarcely scanned her, and that was that.

Tommy kept Nancy there, tucked beneath his arm all the whiles they found their places. She’d never been somewhere so loud, so full of people. It seemed unnatural. It reminded her a bit of London. The drink helped though, as it always did.

‘There he is look,’ Tommy told her, down to her ear, pointing far in front of her to the line-up. ‘Our magic horse.’

‘What makes him so magic?’ Nancy asked, eyes nearly crossed looking up at him with how close he was. She loved the smell of the field, the mud and the grass and the horses. But the smell of Tommy was intoxicating, and she breathed him in, feeling her cheeks flushing.

Of course he was close to her in the house, and the shop, and the pub. But here? Around all these strangers, creatures from all walks of life different to theirs, people who would look to him as a businessman, she had wondered how he’d be. But it turned out, that Thomas Shelby couldn’t resist Nancy Owen, not even if their lives depended on it.

He’d planned at first to keep her away, away from it all. But that had whittled down over time. She’d asked where he’d been, or where a blood stain had come from, or why he couldn’t sleep. And he couldn’t lie, so he told her.

Nancy, who he’d tried to keep so clean, was ankle deep in his business, just where he hadn’t wanted her. But he liked it, partly. He liked that all the lads knew her, doted on her, kept eyes for her. He liked lightening his load, telling her things. She was his very own secret keeper, always had been, it seemed. The time before Nancy didn’t exist to him, not anymore, just like a time before Tommy couldn’t be imaged by her either.

‘Well, that horse has won the last five races it’s been in,’ he explained, one hand on her hip, the other pointing out to the beast. ‘And we’ve got a lot of bets in, people thinking he will win again.’

‘Odds seem high,’ she guessed, knowing the wording from being in the shop.

He chuckled at the question in her voice, gripping her when she jolted slightly at the start of the race. ‘They are, my girl. Very high.’

The horses pelted across the grass, and the crowd was rowdy. Tommy shoved roughly at one of the lads beside her whose elbow got too close as he yelled, fist in the air.

‘How much do you get if it wins?’ Nancy asked, looking back up to Tommy, but his eyes were on the horse, watching it closely. John murmured something in his ear, and he nodded. ‘Or is that too close of a question?’

‘It’s not going to win,’ he assured her, nodding his head so she’d turn back to the field where their horse was pulling out of the line up, beginning to lag behind the rest. It seemed only moments later that the winner was being called, and though the boys didn’t react, Nancy could see and feel them nudging each other, hearing the pats on the back and the chuckles as the rest of the crowd either celebrated their wins or grieved their losses.

Tommy tugged at her hand, pulling her away, setting a cigarette between his lips for a deal well done. He lead her to a quiet part of the bar, getting them each a fresh drink and smirking at her.

‘You’re pleased?’

He nodded, smiling softly.

‘But the horse lost?’

He nodded again, then grinned at Nancy’s scrunched up nose. He knew no one was near enough to hear them, but he still spoke low, ‘Imagine someone gave a horse what Arthur took this morning, they’d run that track in record time, all bets wasted.’

‘No offence, Tommy, but that horse was bloody slow,’ she said with a chuckle. She loved loved loved him trying to teach her things, getting a glimpse into his mind, watching his hands move as he spoke, lost in his thoughts.

He nodded, then leaned forward, kissing her forehead. ‘The horse maybe mixed up his pill bottles.’

‘So the horse lost, but everyone put bets on it to win, they lose their money? Oh – I see.’

Tommy watched her carefully, the playfulness slipped from his face as he waited to find if she was appalled or impressed. The muscles in his neck flexed as his jaw clicked, head tilting, eyes flitting over her face, reading every minute change in her expression.

‘So, drinks are on you tonight, then?’

His eyes slipped closed in relief, breathing a sigh out of his noise before looking at her again, finding her mischievous grin. It surprised him every time Nancy found out something ugly, and still beamed at him like it was beautiful.

‘When are they ever not?’ he asked, a mock bored look on his face.

‘Sorry, my boss doesn’t pay me much a wage to be buying gentleman drinks.’

‘Yes, and it’s staying that way, Miss Owen.’

Nancy grinned, a little drunk, but ready for another. ‘Have you enough change on you to get me another?’

Tommy, squinting, one eye almost closed, managed to fight his smirk and nod for her to lead the way to the bar, finger tips trailing the back of her dress as she went.

‘Mr Shelby,’ a good to do fellow greeted him as they waited for their drinks. ‘Nice to see you.’

‘A pleasure, Mr Shepard, always,’ Tommy greeted in a voice less like his own, shaking the mans hand before gesturing to Nancy. ‘Please, meet Nancy Owen, a very dear friend of mine.’

Mr Shepard winked, his cheeks all red, moustache thicker than the hair on his head. ‘Dear friend, indeed. Lovely to meet you, Miss Owen. Are you enjoying the races?’

‘Very much so, Mr Shepard, thank you,’ Nancy spoke wistfully, making Tommy smile.

Nancy was much better company than his brothers at things like these, where he might meet people he’d like to impress. She knew how to charm, how to speak. Shepard barely noticed the scar on her face with her beaming so beautifully at him, her hand touching his arm when he made a bad joke.

Oh, how he loved her. Anyone else would need to be taught how to act, or at least prepped. But Nancy just knew. She knew him so well, she could tell what he needed her to do without him having to say it. It was things like these that made it hard not to involve her further in the business – the legitimate business.

He watched her speak back and forth with Shepard, her cheeks growing pinker with nerves, but the drink soothing her. When he passed her a fresh glass she sipped from it keenly, even more so when another man joined in the conversation, introducing himself.

When they finally escaped, Nancy was glad to be heading back to the boys.

‘Who is Mr Shepard?’ she asked quietly as they walked, the mans laughter still loud behind them, Tommy’s hand at the small of her back.

‘A man with a lot of money and a lot of friends,’ was the only answer Tommy gave. It wasn’t the first encounter Nancy would have with someone like that, someone she didn’t know the exact reason Tommy wanted in their good books, but knew that she could get him there, with a smile and a joke and a flutter of her lashes.

That night, Ada and Polly joined them in the Garrison and they all drank themselves close to destruction. Isiah took her for a spin, as he usually did, and Matty enjoyed his pints, but kept eyes flitting around to see who was about. Arthur sang, of course, and Ada called him a prat, which he loved, leaving slobbering kisses all over her cheek.

Ada laughed, true laughter, perhaps for the final time with all her brothers. It wasn’t very often that she could forget her upset with them, with the business. At least with Nancy she could always pretend that she knew nothing of it, that she was still just a young naïve girl, but none of them missed the change in her.

Confident, sure of her place amongst them. But it was a part she played, of Tommy’s girl. Nancy was sure of that part, but nothing else. After all, what would she be without him? Without any of them? Homeless, for one. But as a person? She didn’t know who she’d be. Everything she was, the confidence, the kindness, the joy, it felt like it was all for Tommy.

And Tommy was all for the business, so that meant she was too.

‘Never bloody leaves her alone,’ Arthur yacked in John’s ear, who pushed him away, drawing his eyes away from Tommy’s hands where they ran around the edges of her hair, pulling in long strokes down her back as she stood at the bar, chatting with Harry.

‘Fuck off, Arthur,’ John muttered, pushing him again. He was hot, sweating even, jaw grinding and eyes hyper focused, while John was so drunk he’d half way sobered up.

‘Surprised he’s not put one in her, or had her down the church,’ Arthur said again, and John pushed him away, so hard he stumbled and fell to the floor.

Luckily, everyone laughed, Tommy rolling his eyes. The pub was so hot, so full of smoke and people that no one had heard what Arthur had said to John anyways, and Arthur was so far gone that he couldn’t remember either.

‘Give me a minute,’ Tommy said to Nancy, kissing the top of her head and glancing to Matty, who stood a few people away, making conversation. But he caught Tom’s eye, giving him a firm nod in response to the silent instruction.

‘You babysitting?’ Nancy asked with a grin when there was enough room at the bar for Matty to move to stand by her.

‘Don’t think you’re supposed to know, but aye,’ he said with a laugh, watching Tommy shoving Arthur into the snug with John’s help. They made small, comfortable chat, until Matty said, ‘I was in barbers getting cut yesterday, Ken was asking after ya.’

She could cry, really, at the over whelming guilt. ‘Oh, yeah?’

‘Yeah, said he saw you on the street the other day, but you were head in the clouds, walking the other way,’ he said, a small judgement in his voice.

‘I’ll be going to see him.’

‘Oh, aye, when’s that then?’ he pushed, not unkindly. ‘He’s a good man, thinks of you like family, he says, even still.’

Nancy scoffed, irritation fluttering because she was drunk and she felt like an awful person, so she needed to take it out on the messenger. ‘Even still-’

Matty’s hand came to her shoulder, brow scrunched, nodding in gestured behind her to the front door. ‘What the bloody hell is that wee lad up to now?’

Nancy turned, face still scrunched, ready for telling Matty to stop changing the subject. But there was Finn, slipping in the front entrance, and Michael, looking so unsure, and his clothes so brown, amongst a sea of black and grey caps and coats.

‘For gods sake.’

Matty couldn’t follow her through the swarm, but saw Finn catch her eye, giving her a wave, then Michael smiling wide when he saw her.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, gripping Michael’s arms and turning him so that his back was to where Polly sat on top of one of the small tables, Darren worshipping at her side as he often was.

‘I’ve come early. Told them – I just told them I was going. They argued a bit, but then I just, well, I just left,’ he explained in disbelief, looking her over as he spoke. ‘You look nice.’

Nancy’s brain couldn’t quite keep up. All she could think about was the fucking curtains of his room, the ones she’d gotten lipstick on, that Polly had been moaning about, and how they hadn’t washed them or replaced them yet. And the nail that was sticking out of his wall that Polly said she would get a picture to put up for him. And the drawers still full of her things, and the cake Polly wanted to bake, and the burn on the table she wanted to sand down and revarnish.

‘You can’t be here yet,’ she blurted, but an arm came around her neck, Isiah’s face next to hers as he pointed at Finn.

‘Oi, little boy, isn’t it passed your bed time?’ he leered, barely noticing Michael at all.

‘Fuck off, Siah,’ Finn said, pushing his hand away. ‘Where’s Poll?’

Michael was looking at her as if he had no idea who she was. She looked so different, amongst all the smoke and the noise, a man wrapped around her, her lips not pulled in a welcoming smile. She seemed to realise this, and sighed, smiling, chuckling too as she put arms around him.

‘It’s been so long,’ she said, giving him a squeeze, more friendly and familiar than they were. ‘But your mother is not ready for you.’

‘She’s been waiting over ten years, how much longer does she need?’ Michael joked as they pulled away, eyes starting to scan for his mother.

‘Nancy – no kids in the bar, love,’ Harry called, even though he knew fine well Isiah wasn’t a fully fledged fella yet and yet had still been serving him cups of whiskey and beer all night. She glared at the firmness in his voice.

She glanced to the snug door, where, low and behold, Tommy appeared, frowning at Harry, then scanning faces to find hers. His eyes flashed when he spotted her, frowning until John’s voice came to his ear. Nancy watched John’s mouth, moving to form Michael’s name.

He was with them quicker than anyone else could have gotten through a crowd, setting a hand on Nancy’s shoulder, bending down to Finn and ordering him home.

‘But-’

Tommy’s eyes were a firm enough order for him to sigh, roll his eyes, and remove himself from the bar. Tommy gestured to a lad near the doors, waving his hand, ‘Make sure Finn gets home alright, yeah?’

‘Aye, Tom.’

Michael’s brow rose at the man who nodded, slipping out the door at Tommy’s vague order, pint in hand.

‘Tommy, this is Michael,’ Nancy spoke, worry bubbling in her stomach.

‘Alright, Michael,’ he said, shaking his hand and giving him a nod. ‘I’m your cousin.’

‘I know,’ Michael said with a smile, glancing to Isiah, wondering where he fit into all this.

Tommy licked his lips, taking a breath in as Nancy explained why Michael was there early. Then he set a hand on Isiah’s shoulder. ‘Why don’t you take Michael to get a drink, while I tell his mum he’s here, ey?’

‘Yes, boss,’ Isiah granted, giving Michael an amused grin. ‘Come on then, country boy.’

Nancy smiled lightly at Michael as he passed, looking like he’d never set foot outside, let alone a heaving pub. ‘Fucking hell.’

‘Yeah. Come on, let’s sort Polly out. You tell Darren nicely it’s time to piss off home, yeah?’

‘Shall do.’

There was little trouble with removing Darren and his friends, easy for Nancy to shoo away with Tommy’s glare over the top of her head. He slipped into the seat next to Polly, beginning to murmur in her ear, as Nancy took a seat across his knee, holding Poll’s hands.

Michael had watched the men move as Tommy bid them, Nancy springing around like a little sprite ahead of him. He’d thought on first instinct that Isiah might be her man, the way he’d slung his arm so easy around her, his face next to hers. But Isiah didn’t seem to care she was now sat on Tommy’s knee, a possessive hand at her waist.

A door opened somewhere behind them, and John filed out, eyes landing first on his older brother, then to Michael, who he beelined for. Another man walked out behind him, who Michael figured must be Arthur, from Polly’s descriptions.

‘Oi oi, little cousin,’ John greeted, roughly ragging his arms around him, cigarette in one hand and drink in the other. ‘You’re a week keen, mate.’

‘I know, sorry – Tommy didn’t seem too pleased.’

‘Tommy’s never bloody pleased, unless it’s by her,’ John told him, nodding to Nancy who rose as Arthur neared them, redirecting him with a soft smile and her hands on him, letting Tommy and Polly speak.

‘I thought she worked for him,’ Michael replied, making Isiah bark laughter, slapping him too hard on the back so that Michael lurched.

‘You watch yourself with that, boy,’ he laughed, smirking to John who cackled too.

But Nancy was coming towards them, the crowd parting for her and Arthur and closing up again behind them. She was flushed, a little harassed, but still smiling. She thought it was sweet how unsure Michael looked of his pint as he sipped at it.

‘Michael, this is your cousin Arthur – he’s very drunk,’ she whispered the last part loudly in his ear, making John’s mouth twitch as they met eyes.

‘Mikey!’ Arthur greeted, arms wide, yelling. ‘Get this boy a proper bloody drink, Harry!’

Harry and Arthur had a wonderful relationship, where Harry could ignore Arthur, and Arthur would forget he’d ever spoken.

Nancy lowered her eyes to hide her smirk, feeling herself pressed between John and Arthur as the crowds swayed to let another group out, having given up the night to go home. It was like the regulars had a sense for when the Shelby’s were about to cause a scene, and knew when to clear out.

Arthur was talking, so much that she didn’t need to, and Isiah piped in too, and John, setting his arm around his young cousin with a friendly grin.

That didn’t stop his eyes flitting down to his left often though, and feeling the need to put his arm around her, the want. If it was before any of this, if he were Arthur, and he hadn’t fucked it all up, he could have. Tommy wouldn’t have minded. But Tommy knew what it meant for John to touch her, even in the casual way of slinging an arm around her, or touching her beautiful hair, because it meant the same to him.

Because he couldn’t get a word in edgeways, Michael observed. He nodded to Arthur, amused by him. But watched the people around him, and Nancy as she fiddled with her lighter, and John as he licked his lips, hand tapping his pocket, finger pushing into his thumb nail until his finally gave in, shoving his hand in and retrieving his own lighter.

Nancy was surprised, in a lovely way, when the flame came to her, and leaned her cigarette forwards into it, eyes flitting to John, whose body seemed to soften in response.

When Nancy’s eyes moved to his, Michael smiled, pretending he’d noticed nothing. Because nothing had really happened, nothing at all. Not to anyone else, anyways.

‘Here he is,’ Arthur grunted, making room for Tommy whose eyes were blow wide with the stress of it all, hand landing at the back of Nancy’s neck.

‘Arthur, find Matty, will you? I’m gonna walk Polly home, let her get cleaned up. She’s had a lot to drink and wants to wash her face before she welcomes you home, Michael. You stay, finish your drink.’

‘Oh, I’ll just leave it,’ he started to suggest, but Tommy’s smile turned small and tight.

‘No, no, you finish it,’ Tommy said, giving John a nod. ‘You’ve come home to us as well, give the lads a chance to know ya, ey?’

John was patting his shoulder, Arthur moving away through the warm bodies of the pub punters. Michael watched Tommy and Nancy interact, the way her hair hung back, almost hitting her waist as she tilted her head to look at him.

‘You staying? Matthew will mind you, walk you home?’

‘You don’t mind?’

Tommy smiled, rubbing a thumb across her cheek. ‘Polly’s gonna have a bath, I’m gonna try get her straight. You know she’d only sob to you. I need to you keep eyes on Michael, make sure they don’t welcome him too well.’

Nancy rolled her eyes, glancing sideways as he took another tiny sip of his drink. ‘Give us two hours and he might have finished that pint.’

Tommy bubbled with laughter, touching a thumb to her chin and kissing her lips, soft and slow, as if there wasn’t a world of chaos and laughter around them.

He bid them farewell, gave John a look of warning, and left to meet Polly at the door.

Arthur seemed to materialise beside Nancy, wrapping an arm around her and breaking into song, as oft times he had.

‘Oh bloody hell,’ John muttered, chuckling, shaking his head as Arthur barged through a few people to find a clearing.

‘Should have give him more whiskey, Johnny, not snow. He’d have passed out that way, not livened up,’ Isiah joked.

‘Go and get her,’ John ordered with a frown as Nancy laughed loudly, a shoe falling off as Arthur span her in a too small space at the other side of the room. ‘And find Matty.’

‘Aye, alright,’ Isiah sighed, rolling his eyes, searching the room as he made he way to Arthur.

Before Isiah could reach them, Arthur bumped into a man, a large man, who turned with a glare, pushing Arthur off him before he really realised who he was.

John set his cup down on the bar, taking Michael’s from him too. ‘You get her.’

‘What?’ Michael asked, but there was a loud smack over the top of it, and he only caught a glimpse of a lifted chair in Arthur’s arms, Nancy gripping to his arm to stop him.

John pushed through, shouting at people to get the fuck out of his way, even though most of them were scrambling to leave. He met eyes with Isiah, yelling, ‘Get fucking hold of him!’

The pair of them pulled Arthur off the man, and Michael reached Nancy, who was holding her shoes, frowning harshly.

‘Come on,’ Michael mumbled as John called to Harry to close up as he and Isiah dragged Arthur towards the door.

John pushed Arthur into the street. ‘You fucking idiot.’

‘Piss off, John,’ Arthur mumbled, wiping his bleeding lip. ‘My fucking pub.’

Nancy pulled away from Michael and to Arthur, touching his arm lightly. ‘Go home, alright? I’d offer to clean you up, but I think the less Tommy knows about this, the better.’

‘Sorry, Nancy-girl,’ he sighed, shaking his head, shoulders slumped and he stumbled sideways. ‘Sorry, love.’

‘It’s alright, Arthur. Come round tomorrow, ey? I’ll make you up a sandwich and a cuppa.’

‘Alright, love, alright,’ he muttered, placing a sloppy kiss on his hand, which he then waved in her general direction. He raised the same hand as he stumbled up towards home. ‘Night lads, night Johnny. Isiah, you’re a little prick. Mikey – Michael. G’night.’

Nancy moved to start slipping her shoes back on, stumbling sideways a little, but an arm wrapped around her waist, steadying her. ‘Thanks, Michael,’ she breathed, straightening her dress and moving away, ahead. ‘Come on, home time.’

Michael nodded, looking back as John caught up, Isiah having started following Arthur up the street to keep him on a straight path.

John sniffed as he fell into step beside Michael, hands in his pockets, swaggering, both keeping eyes on the girl ahead of them.

‘She’s like a cousin to you, you know,’ John suddenly said, and when Michael looked at him, his eyes were warning, brow raised, lips pursed.

Michael’s sweet youthful gaze turned sharp. ‘What does that make her to you, then?’

If John’s adrenaline wasn’t on the come down from seeing Arthur with that chair in his hands, he’d have smacked Michael there and then, called him a smarmy little shit, told him to mind his business. But he couldn’t – wouldn’t – do it to Polly. Or to Nancy, who stumbled ahead.

‘Come on, boys,’ she called, which was about as much affection as she’d shown John since they’d slept together last.

So he turned his face forward, and marched onward. ‘Coming, pet. Keep up, Michael.’

Chapter Text

Nancy took a breath before pushing open the door, the familiar smell hitting her, the familiar sounds. ‘Room for a little one?’

Kenny looked up, delight crossing his face as he rushed to set down his scissors, wiping his hands on his apron. ‘Nancy Owen!’

She grinned, fighting the urge to cry, and stepped fully into the shop, letting Michael follow in behind her. Kenny looked like he wanted to hug her, but wasn’t sure if he were allowed, so instead he stopped just in front of her, hand on the desk, huffing at his sore knee. ‘Oh, Kenny.’

‘Got bloody over excited didn’t I, Jimmy?’ he said to the fella in the chair who chuckled.

‘This is Michael, Polly’s son,’ Nancy spoke, mostly because she needed something to say – anything. ‘This is Kenny, Michael. My, well, my old boss, I suppose.’

Ken gave a smile, lips pressed together, tilting his head affectionately at her. They both knew it was more than that. He glanced to the scar. He’d heard about it, of course. But seeing it was different. ‘Oh, Nance. I need to hold you. You don’t mind do you? Of course you don’t. Come here, come here, darling.’

She didn’t mind. She didn’t mind at all.

Michael watched them embrace, the ruddy cheeked man and the beautiful girl that slept up the corridor. Kenny soaked up as much of her as her could, and once he’d had his fill, he pulled away, sending her an extra gaze, before clapping his hands together and turning to Michael. ‘Hello, sir.’

‘Oh, none of that. Kenneth is my name, both Kenny and Ken welcome by the son of Polly Gray, surely,’ he said, hot hand in Michael’s, shaking it well. He nodded towards his hair. ‘In for a trim?’

‘Polly says if you cut it anything like his cousins she will be round to complain,’ Nancy warned softly. ‘Here, you finish with Jimmie, take your time. I’ll make us all a cuppa, hey?’

Kenny’s smile grew. ‘Oh, we’d like that wouldn’t we, Jim?’

‘He’s not half the host you are, Nance,’ Jimmie called after her, once she’d nudged Michael towards the other barber’s chair. Jim side eyed Michael, grunting, ‘How’s your mother?’

‘Just fine, thank you,’ he said politely as he hung his coat, taking a seat. ‘You both know her?’

‘Everyone knows everyone in these parts, lad. And everyone knows Polly Gray,’ Kenny told him, not unkindly. ‘She was in the other day with John’s kids, telling me about you.’

‘I’ve a mind he comes in about now,’ Jimmie said, squinting at his wrist watch.

Kenny twisted, looking at the clock. ‘Aye, best get on with it before he shows.’

Nancy expertly delivered the tea, leaning back on the wall between the mirrors, speaking with the two older gentlemen with the same warmth and grace she spoke to everyone. But Michael, who’d only known her in the Shelby house, could read the difference.

She seemed younger somehow, relaxed. She let biscuit crumbs sit at the corners of her cheeks as she chewed, wiping them on the back of her hand. She used her hands and her arms, sometimes her whole body to speak and tell stories.

He noticed too, the difference in her when John arrived. It was apparent to Michael that he himself did not have the influence over her to make her shrink. It wasn’t in a timid way, like she was afraid. More like she was more aware of herself, more worried about being in control. It was interesting.

‘Full house today, Ken,’ John spoke as he entered, glancing at everyone in the room, then the clock. He ruffled Michael’s hair in greeting, patted Jimmie on the arm. ‘Alright, old fella.’

‘Aye, John, I’m alright, kid,’ he replied, watching in the mirror as Ken shook John’s hand.

John touched a knuckle to Nancy’s cheek, swift and gentle, barely looking at her as he did. ‘Hello, love.’

She took a steadying breath and sent Michael a broad smile when she caught his eye. ‘Sorry, John. You go first. I didn’t realise you’d be here.’

‘Thought maybe you’d have come with mum and your boys,’ Michael said lightly, ignoring John when he looked at him, choosing instead to fix his ruffled hair in the mirror.

John scratched his cheek, leaning an elbow on the desk. ‘I wouldn’t come with those little shits. This is me time.’

Nancy had to chuckle at that, and the way he smirked. She finished her tea, listening to Ken and Jim bellow laughter. Carrying her empty mug, she offered, ‘Cuppa, John?’

‘Am alright, Nancy. Thank you, pet. Here, you leave Michael with me, go get your shopping,’ he offered.

She walked back through, asking, ‘Oh, are you sure?’

‘Yeah, I’ve not a lot on,’ he said with a smile as she came to stand in front of him, looking out to the street thoughtfully. ‘Curly wants you to go see the cats too, you know. Mentioned it to me when I was up the yard.’

‘What’s the yard?’

Nancy looked at John, who was beginning to smirk. ‘Nothing to do with you, Michael.’

Polly had expressed most firmly that Michael would have nothing to do with the business, not until it was clean – fully clean. The yard was full of contraband, and the brothers had been told explicitly not to take him down there.

John raised a brow, head tilted back, lips quirked at her. His smirk only broadened when she gave a warning glare.

‘I’m going to stay, I haven’t fetched my purse anyways,’ she sighed, moving her hair over one shoulder as she span to smile at Michael’s reflection. ‘We’ll go home after this, you can help me do the dinner.’

John tsked, taking out his money clip and counting out a few notes. ‘Here, I owe Tommy anyways. Imagine he just gives it straight to you anyways.’

‘In my wages, you mean,’ she said, raising her chin, then looking to Ken. ‘Feels like I’m being paid to go away, doesn’t it?’

Kenny only chuckled, shaking his head. Whilst polite, whilst well known, Kenny wasn’t on overly comfortable terms with the Shelby’s, not like Nancy was. Hell, was anyone? But the last time he’d seen her and any of the Shelby’s in a room together, she’d been less comfortable that he had been. Now he was the outsider, and she the in. It was strange enough seeing someone teasing them like that, even John, the most approachable of the three.

‘I’ll be fine, Nancy,’ Michael assured her.

She didn’t want to announce in front of everyone that Polly had told her to mind him, like he was a proper kid. He was almost an adult, after all. ‘Alright, Michael.’

Kenny finished up Jimmie then, brushing off his shoulders and the back of his neck. ‘How is it, Jim?’

‘Perfect as always, Kenny-lad. I’ll leave me coin on the desk,’ he grunted as he rose, taking a moment to straighten out.

Ken put a hand at the top of Nancy’s arm. ‘Come for dinner at Keith’s, won’t you? Saturday night? Fetch Thomas, if you’d like.’

Nancy softly smiled. ‘Of course, sounds wonderful. I’ll ask him.’

Jim was huddling to the door, wheezing as he went. John met Nancy eye, his head cocked, brow risen, gesturing to the old man.

She touched Kenny’s arm, making him lean down so that she could kiss his cheek, then brushed fingers over Michael’s shoulder on her way passed. John leant down as she neared him, pointing to his stubbled cheek.

Michael watched, eyes like a hawk as Nancy rolled her eyes, John’s eyes not leaving hers as she got on tiptoes and pressed lips to his cheek. His cousin’s lips pulled into a smile, pulling it at her until she was at the old mans arm, linking it around hers.

‘Here, Jim, are you just off home? I’ll drop you of on the way. I’ll buy you and Edna a cake or two if you like?’

‘Oh, Nancy, you do know how to keep a fella on side don’t you,’ Jimmy replied with a chuckle, holding onto her, shaking a hand behind him in farewell to Kenny.

John looked to Michael, his sweet smile turned wicked.

__________

‘Oh, you silly cat,’ Nancy told the young kitten, twirling a feather above it as it wriggled around beneath. ‘What is this one called?’

‘Hattie,’ Curly told her with a grin as he fetched through a cuppa for her. ‘She likes sleeping in my hats – I’ve had to start hiding them.’

‘Poor, Hattie,’ she soothed with a smirk. ‘I’ll have to steal some of Tommy’s hats for you next time I come.’

Curly chuckled at that. ‘I offered him one for you, but he said he was getting you a dog.’

Nancy’s eyes lifted in a half roll, but she felt herself flush a little. ‘We’ve barely room for all the Shelby’s and Grey’s in that house, let alone a dog.’

Curly tapped his nose, and Nancy sent him a suspicious squint. ‘I’m not within my rights to say anything, Miss Nancy.’

Sipping her tea, she smirked. ‘Alright, Curly. You keep your secrets.’

She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek when she left, and waited until the door was closed before she began brushing cat hairs from her dress. Bending to full height, she met eyes with the church again. That cross against the sky.

It was a bumpy little path, but she took it.

When she got to the gates, she looked through the iron to the building, quiet and peaceful, if a little run down.

A splash behind her, a girl on the steps of the church house, hot soapy water across the stones below and a hard bristled brush in her hands ready for scrubbing.

‘Hello,’ Nancy blurted, and the girl looked up.

‘Hello, Miss. Are you here for the Vicar? He’s over in the church. His wife is at home though,’ she said, accent rough, not from Birmingham through.

She would have found it far too embarrassing to say that she wasn’t completely sure what had prompted her there, so she nodded. ‘I’ll speak to his wife, if she’s available?’

‘Aye, Miss – yes, I mean,’ she sounded, rushing to wipe her hands on her pinny and telling Nancy, ‘Watch the wet stones, Miss.’

Nancy did, and followed the girl into the house and to a quaint little reception room with pink flowers on the walls and embroidered on the cushions. She could hear the other girl muttering to someone else in the hallway.

‘Fetch Mrs Gregory, there’s a woman here to see her – no, a nice woman. Clean. Go on.’

Nancy looked at her hands. She supposed she did look clean to other people. She spent her time picking at a stubborn speck of dirt beneath her nail until she heard heeled feet clicking towards the room. She rose, clasping her hands in front of her, painting a perfect smile on her face.

Mrs Gregory was smiling, until her eyes flashed with realisation. ‘Oh. Hello, Miss Owen.’

Blinking twice, trying to keep her own smile held, despite feeling suddenly unwelcome, Nancy said, ‘I’m sorry, I’m not sure we’ve met before?’

‘We haven’t,’ Mrs Gregory stated, then pinched her lips to stop herself saying more. ‘What brings you?’

It felt like a stand-off, this staring at each other beside the furniture instead of sitting on it. Nancy felt herself going red. ‘I wanted to find out more about the girls that you help. I understand that there is a home for girls here – where they can stay safely?’

‘What interest do you have in them?’ Mrs Gregory asked, setting a hand on the back of the plush arm chair. She was stand offish, but seemed a little frightened too. She wasn’t trying to intimidate Nancy, but she was making a fine job of letting her know that she was unwelcome.

Nancy licked her lips. ‘Just that, well, I found myself sometime ago in need of a safe place. I think that the work you do is lovely, and important. I wish I had known about it when I needed help.’

‘Yes,’ she said with a glance over Nancy, as if her brand new spotless clothes – cat hairs ignored – were some kind of offensive rag. ‘I am well aware of where you have sought your help, Miss Owen. We had no need of charity from the Shelby’s.’

‘I-’ Nancy started, about to be kind. Shock ran through her. ‘I wasn’t here to offer you anything.’

Mrs Gregory looked even less impressed.

‘I mean, I likely was going to make donation. But you are looking at me like you’d rather not have anything from me, Mrs Gregory, and I’m not sure why.’

The woman actually frowned, looking her over again. ‘If you had been one of my girls, and this was your outcome, I’d think of it as a failure. Wearing those expensive clothes, hair down to your waist, cut open and sewed back up. And that man. That family.’

Nancy’s jaw clicked firm.

‘It’s repulsive.’ She straightened, raising her chin. ‘Please leave.’

There was little else to do. She had never been allowed to forget the brick in the cobblers window incident. Doing something to a vicarage in a burst of rage would never be forgotten, and would be told at the Garrison for years to come. So, she pulled her bag up on her shoulder and made to leave.

‘I’ll pray for you,’ Mrs Gregory uttered as she passed, making Nancy pause and look back.

‘I pray enough for myself, Mrs Gregory. Every Sunday. Next time I’m speaking to God, I’ll ask him if he’ll save you from being such a fat, old hag.’

Mrs Gregory looked alarmed, a hand to her chest.

‘Your wallpaper is fucking hideous.’ Nancy moved to the front door, passing the girl with the hard brush, who wished her good-day, then almost right into another girl in similar brown dresses who was carrying a brown paper bag. ‘Sorry.’

‘Nancy?’

Nancy looked up, into the eyes of Sally. Her hair was cut to a neat clean bob, her scab healing, a little weight returned to her. Her skin had colour too. Healthy colour. She smiled, teeth showing. One on the left side had been pulled, likely more at the back.

‘I came – to the church – like you said,’ Sally said, tilting her head, her voice gentle, trying to catch Nancy’s eye. ‘There’s a house behind the vicarage, there is six of us there. It’s lovely. There’s no men. No money. No drink – no drugs.’

‘Well, look at you,’ she replied, blinking back angry, shocked tears.

Sally smiled wide. ‘I know, God has saved me, Nancy. I just had to let him.’

‘Sally,’ Mrs Gregory cut in from the front door, sharp and warning. ‘Come away from that woman. She’s unwelcome here.’

Sally looked to Nancy, frowning a little, but Nancy only caught half of it, because she turned to glare at the old woman.

‘The devil comes for cunts like you, Mrs Gregory,’ Nancy called, then turned back to Sally. ‘Tell her to lock her fucking doors, I might come back later and show him the way.’

‘Nancy-’

‘It’s Mary,’ Nancy snapped roughly, pushing past and away from them all.

__________________

Tommy burst through the doors of the pub, eyes scanning the room, from corner to corner, floor to ceiling, at the bar, behind the bar. ‘Arthur!’

Arthur scurried around the bar, hands raised in defence. ‘Wasn’t me, Tommy! I had two drinks with her. Read em, two! Left for an hour, then came back and she was – Tommy – Tom!’

Hands at his brother’s collars, he grunted, ‘Where is she now?’

Arthur glanced towards the door of the snug and was released, watching the square shoulders of his brother move rigidly towards the snug.

Tommy blew out a relieved breath, begging his heart to slow. Matthew sat on the stool, back against the wall, newspaper in his hands and a fag hanging out of his mouth. His eyes were wide, worried.

‘She’s been asleep a while, Tom. She was crying.’

‘Where had she been?’ he asked low, looking over to Nancy, curled up on the bench under Arthur’s coat.

‘She just kept talking about God,’ he swore, then sniffed, looking uncomfortable. ‘She fell asleep on me Tom, I’m sorry. I lay her down and moved over here. Didn’t want to leave her alone here – or carry her through the pub.’

‘It’s alright, Matthew. You do a good job,’ he said, raising a light hand. He rummaged in his inside pocket, taking out his money clip and releasing a couple of notes for him.

‘Honestly, Tommy. It’s no mind,’ he said, rising and folding his paper. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow – unless you want anything else?’

Tommy gazed at him, shaking his head lightly. As the door closed, Tommy glanced to the notes in his hand, frowning at them. With a sigh, he slipped them away and took to the bench. ‘Nancy?’

She moaned in protest.

‘Have you got knickers on?’

‘Don’t fucking touch me,’ she grumbled and he laughed, leaning his head back against the wall and letting her bundle up, her head on his knee and his arm around her.

‘What’s happened? Last I knew you were taking Michael for a haircut. Bad news too, because he’s not come back and neither has John.’

‘I’ll kill John. I swear I will,’ she said, pulling herself to sit up. ‘Oh, God. My head, Tom.’

He smiled softly, brushing her hair out of her face, finding her squinting eyes still lovely as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. ‘I’ve something for that at home. But first I need you to tell me what has happened. Mostly to find my cousin before Polly blows her top, but also because I’m worried about you, my girl.’

His voice was so soft, so soothing. She could cry.

‘John showed up at the barbers and practically paid me to go away. So I bought cake and took some round Curly’s. Then I went to the stupid fucking church.’

‘The one by Curly’s?’

Nancy nodded, righting herself on the seat and rubbing her eyes. ‘I wanted to see about the charity. You know. The one that helps girls. I wanted to help – or donate. Or something. But the woman, the vicars wife. She told me that I was unwelcome. I called her a fat hag. And a cunt. A cunt, Tommy.’

He was chuckling, a low rumble of a thing, still stroking her hair, fixing her wonky dress. ‘You left her windows intact though?’

She glared. ‘I told her I’d come back with the devil.’

A bark of laughter left him, and she slapped his chest. He still took a little whiles to settle, but when he did, he nodded. ‘So you were upset?’

‘I get – so mad, Tommy. So angry sometimes.’

He scanned her face, but she could barely look at him. That unsettled him more than any curses thrown at holy men’s wives.

‘Is Michael okay?’

Tommy rolled his eyes. ‘He’s nearly a man. Polly needs to leave him be.’

Nancy hummed, fiddling with his cufflink, sticking out beneath his blazer sleeve. She felt rung out. ‘Sorry for being a mess, Tommy.’

‘Sorry for making you a pariah,’ he replied with a lazy smile. He was all deflated, all relaxed, after his heart hammering half the day, not knowing where she’d gotten to. Would he ever stop thinking she’d just up and leave one day?

‘Can we go home?’

‘Can you walk?’

Rolling her eyes, she moved to hit him again, but he gripped her fingers, bringing them to his lips and kissing each one with his hot breath spreading across the back of her hand.

‘I love you,’ she promised, as they stood, him removing Arthur’s coat from her and flinging it to the other side of the bench.

He turned, smiling, hands stretching up the sides of her face, into her hair line. He was about to kiss her, when the door behind him burst open.

‘Oh, it’s occupied – Tommy, fancy a pint?’

Tommy grit his teeth to the sound of John’s voice, and turned his head to the side to see him lean around him, smiling warmly at Nancy.

‘Nancy, love. Long time no see.’

‘Shut up, John,’ Tommy snapped, turning, blocking Nancy from the pair of them. ‘Where the fuck have you two been, ey?’

‘I took him down the yard,’ John said, ducking when Tommy went to grab him. ‘Hey, hey, I’m joking. We went the pub. On the northside. Didn’t want this animosity, yeah? Anyways, ask her where she’s been. She was meant to be minding him.’

Nancy moved to step forward, but Tommy gripped her arm, so she spat out, ‘You’re a shit, John.’

‘She’s got a dirty mouth on her, Tommy. Michael says it’s all he can hear, all night fucking long,’ John jibed, chuckling still when Tommy grabbed him by the front of his jacket and slammed his back onto the table, Nancy lurching backwards out of the way.

Michael moved to pull her further away as Tommy turned into a snarling, barking, beast.

‘You keep your mouth fucking shut about her, John. I’ve warned you before. You’ll lose your fucking tongue. You understand me?’

‘He’s drunk, Tommy,’ Nancy said desperately, but Tommy thrust a fist into John’s jaw.

He laughed a little, eyes meeting Nancy’s, then landing back on Tommy. Darkening. ‘See. Every ugly thing you do pushes her onto someone else, Tom. I’m already fucked in her eyes. But he’s fresh as a daisy. And there's fields of them out there, brother.’

Tommy punched him again, and that time John stayed quiet, gasping in pain. Tommy was satisfied when he saw the blood, and pushed off him, straightening his clothes. He looked to Michael, the hands he had on Nancy’s waist, and once he was near enough, put a hand at her neck, guiding her to turn and leading her out the door.

Nancy allowed herself to be walked, a red hot hand at the back of her neck.

Chapter Text

‘Where are we going, Mr Shelby?’

Tommy glanced away from the road, smirking sideways at her as they travelled out of the city. ‘Has no one ever surprised you before, Miss Owen?’

She gave him a long suffering look, which he didn’t look at, but he grinned in his knowing way, stretching out and setting a hand at the back of her neck, cupping her there. She sighed, leaning back into his touch, shadows flickering over her face as the trees blocked the sun. The flashes of bright were so blinding that she closed her eyes, slumping a little in the seat.

Tommy’s eyes flickered over her, a soft smile tugging at him. His thumb massaged into the base of her neck, rolling up into her hairline. He slowed a little, to steal more glances at her as her lips parted at the feeling, her chest rising and falling in heavier breaths.

He’d woken her up that morning, early, to dress and leave for a breakfast out. He loved breakfast with Nancy, ever since that first time. He rarely ate breakfast. But she seemed to shine in the mornings, and that was enough to get him to lunch times.

She’d talk and talk and talk, toast in one hand, a cigarette or a coffee in the other, and he’d smile and smile and smile, until she realised and started to blush, covering her mouth and forcing herself to swallow her last bite of food before she murmured an apology.

Other mornings they’d escape to breakfast to get away from everyone, to avoid Polly’s glare or Fin’s moaning – or the potential for Arthur or John dropping in. Sometimes Nancy was so rough she could barely speak, but a slice of toast and a good lump of butter and she’d be cured – and so would he.

Now, she opened her eyes as they stopped at a junction, blinking dreamily at him. He sighed, and pulled her in for a kiss, pressing lips to hers and tasting the salt of the butter still on her mouth, and the bitter coffee stained on her tongue.

She let out a moan, pushing herself against him, chasing his warmth, hoping she could kiss firm enough to kill the want in her. She felt him smirk into the kiss when she crossed one leg over the other, squirming as she leaned into him, hoping to find some friction between her legs if she squeezed her thighs together hard enough.

Tommy hitched a hand under her knee folded on top of the other, fingers pushing into the flesh at her thigh as a light groan escaped him.

A blaring honk interrupted them, and Nancy giggled right into his mouth, something that felt so intimate it made the roof of his mouth tickle.

‘Behave,’ he warned, and she leaned back in her seat as he set off again, biting at her bottom lip.

Sometimes, the wanting hurt. She could feel herself aching from the inside out. She’d clench the muscles between her legs, at her arse, in her thighs, and she didn’t know if it was in a desperate attempt to feel something or in the hope of stopping the feelings all together.

‘Are you suffering there, love?’ he murmured darkly, a mischievous smirk at his mouth.

‘You’re cruel,’ she said, flushing, but noticing the light leap in his crotch as he tensed his own muscles.

He chuckled, low and quiet as he always did. ‘There’s only one cure for it.’

Licking her lips, swallowing, she frowned out of the window, not baring to look at him as she replied, ‘I think you’re mistaken, Mr Shelby.’

‘How’s that then?’ he asked, eyes on the road as they met the countryside.

Shifting in her seat a little, Nancy toyed with the hem of her dress, coy and quiet. ‘You know what I do-’

‘That would be what?’ Tommy muttered, expression wiped blank.

Finger tips tracing the edging of her dress, sliding it ever so gradually up her thighs, she breathed, ‘I get riled up. I’m all alone, the house is empty.’

Tommy’s dark, dangerous gaze slipped towards her, leaping quickly from her soft expression to her hand, one finger drawing small circles on the bare pale skin of her thigh. He looked back to the road, swallowing.

‘You’re not there to cure me.’

Glancing sideways to that wandering hand, once, twice, fast between that and the road, he murmured an apology. A half felt, begging, apology.

‘So,’ she continued, sighing and slipping her hand to the top of her thigh, her dress and her slip rising with it so that the front of the crotch of her knickers was on show, the fabric soft and dampening. She gasped softly at the sensation of spreading her legs ever so slightly. ‘I have to see to it myself.’

He glanced over, just as she lightly brushed her fingertips over the faint mounds of her lips against the fabric, and she released a light moan. ‘Nancy,’ he blew out. ‘I’ll crash the fucking car.’

‘Stop the car then,’ she suggested, her breath taken from her as she pressed down on herself for him.

He grunted – there was no where to fucking stop. It was a one car country lane.

Nancy slipped fingers down under the elastic of her knickers and to the rough hairs, and down to the wetness, letting herself vocalise how beautifully hot and soft it was between her legs.

As she began to rub in long ovals down the length of her swollen lips, she parted her legs further, letting the squelching of flesh against soaked flesh break through the heavy silence of the car. The sounds only made her press harder, cocking her hips to her hand.

Then, she was jolted as Tommy turned the wheel, pulling up to a farm gate and turning off the engine sharply. She’d taken her hand away to steady herself on her seat, which gave him the in that he needed to lean over her, the heel of his palm knocking her legs back apart and making room for his hand to slip up and into her knickers.

Hot breath burned her throat as fingers pushed into her, without hesitation or warning. He was like this sometimes, over come with his want. It drove her even more to madness, knowing that it wasn’t just her alone.

He bit at her neck, then swiftly kissed her lips, hand moving uncontrolled, fingers too fast, pulling out of her to rub harshly at her hardened clit and the spongey flesh surrounding it. He moaned into her mouth. ‘I want you to sit on my cock.’

Usually, Nancy was in bed before Tom. He was home late most nights, or home early enough to fuck her up against the wall or bed her over the bed. But most usually, he’d come home, and wake her up by hovering above her, kissing her any place he could reach, hips already slotting between her sleepy opening legs.

Nancy had flown too close to the sun. Fear began to creep up her spine, over the burning pleasure she was feeling. Daylight. Outside. Sitting on him. In control.

Tommy pulled his hand away from her, out of the offending undergarment, which he then began to remove as he kissed her. Nancy held onto his shoulders, kicking off her shoes and wiggling to help him.

Once she was free of her knickers, she pushed him back into his seat, unbuttoning whilst her lifted, pulling his trousers down his thighs. She felt herself freshly swell at the sight of his veined cock standing for her, something different about seeing it in the daylight, practically outside. People were different outside the house - bodies were too.

She bent over him, lips forming around his reddened head, soft and hard all at once. Tommy hadn’t been expecting it, and his hips jerked, jutting his full length into his mouth, his hands fingering through her hair to pull it away from her face as he let out what sounded like a pained gasp, followed by a groan.

Having worried herself enough about climbing on top of him, and attempting to fuck him as well as he could fuck her, Nancy pushed her face down on his cock until her nose pressed into the curling hairs above the base of him and his tip rubbed at the back of her throat, begging to go down it.

His moan came out as almost a yell, his fingers tightening in her hair as he twisted her head a little so that he could see her lips on him, pulling over the large vein that wrapped around the top of his cock and to the underside. He watched her tongue at him, desperately, tracing the shape of his head and pressing against the hole, closing her eyes to the salty droplets that gathered there before she sank down on him again.

While the thick head of his cock rubbed against the back of her throat, she shoved her own hand back into her underwear, rubbing harshly at her yearning cunt. She was violently desperate for him, to be fucked open. But instead, she fucked her own mouth open on him, feeling him catch in the tightness of her throat and pulsing him back and forth, in and out, for as long as she could before she had to pull away for breath, which escaped her with a moan of pleasure at the feel of two of her own fingers thrusting into her.

Between his moans, and his heavy breaths, Tommy guided her head to the tip of him, mouth slung open as he held her still, thrusting just the head into and out of her excruciatingly slow with painful control. He wanted to cum into her mouth like that, watching it pulse into her, then force his cock into her mouth, pushing it down her throat and letting her swallow it around him.

But even more, he wanted to be where her fingers were. ‘I want to be in that sweet cunt, Nancy.’

He kept easing himself in and out of her mouth, brows twisting at the pleasure of it.

‘Either you’re going to sit on my cock, and ride me. Or I’m going to take you outside and bend you over the hood of my car, for all the cows and the countrymen to see,’ he gasped out, managing a grunt of a chuckle when she resisted him pulling her away. The pop of her mouth off of him was something he’d repeat in his head for weeks to come. ‘So, what will it be, love?’

She glanced outside. There wasn’t another soul in sight, but there was a farm in the distance.

He licked his lips as she straddled him, slipping his hands up her thighs and around to her arse, gripping each cheek and spreading them as she lowered herself onto him, right to the hilt. Nancy almost yelled. Taking Tommy was a far different sensation to having him over her, or even behind her, which was as close to the divine as she’d ever reached.

They stayed still a moment, connected, forehead to forehead, and she sank half an inch lower as her muscles released to him. Tommy’s felt wetness seep out onto his groin and gripped the back of her neck, kissing her roughly, keeping his hands there as she wiggled her hips, placing her knees just right before she could comfortably begin to move.

And when she did, it was nirvana.

Nancy couldn’t hear anything, for the thrumming in her ears, or the shock of the pleasure, the way her lips were so spread on him that her clit was exposed to the open air, aching for each time she reached the hilt and it could rub against his rough pubic hair. Every so often, she’d grind against him, just for the extra friction.

The sounds came back one by one, first the sound of their soaking, her cunt had become creamy on him, illicit the wet squelch of his hardness pressing against the soft walls inside of her. Then, his grunts with each meeting of their hips, his quickening breaths, and then her own.

She’d already came for him, though it felt like a constant thing. Her body was singing, every part of her in a roaring orchestra. But the spasms started again, the yelps as he worked to meet her thrusts, because she was loosing control of her movements. She was a single thought, of more, more, more.

Tommy’s arms came around her then, pulling her to his chest, tightly, grinding up into her as he yelled his release beside her ear. He held her still as he thrust his spray of hot cum inside of her, rolling his hips as if rubbing it into her inner flesh, trying to make it stick.

He slowed his movements, panting heavily into her hair, still holding her tightly, and when she tried to pull away to kiss him, he held her still, hips moving against hers lightly again. ‘Stay there. Just – stay there.’

Her heart was hammering so quickly that she had to close her eyes to focus on it, to make sure it was slowing down. She took steadying breaths, as did he, and eventually, as her heart began to slow, he began to rub circles into her back, slow and soothing, until his arms loosened and she sat up straight on him.

He brushed her hair out of her face, smiling drunkenly whilst she pressed soft kisses to his cheeks.

‘Is this why you brought me out here?’

He smiled wide, showing his teeth, leaning his head back against the seat. ‘You started it this time, my girl.’

She shook her head, nose almost brushing against his, their eyes fixed on one another.

‘No?’ he whispered, shaking his own head, and she shook hers still too.

‘You were doing this,’ she murmured, bringing her hand to the back of his neck and beginning to rub, upwards into his hair line. She felt his softened cock jerk a little inside of her and chuckled, resting her fore head on his. ‘See?’

Tommy had closed his eyes, and opened them, looking up at her half cross-eyed. ‘I’m an innocent man.’

Squinting lightly, Nancy lifted, and he grunted at the feeling of slipping away from her warmth. Once back in her seat, she slipped her underwear back up her legs, and when she lifted herself to pull them up, and sat back down, righting her dress, Tommy’s hand fell to her knee.

He licked his bottom lip, eyeing her a moment before leaning further over, hand on the side of the thigh furthest away from him, hooking fingers beneath it and pulling, so that her legs pressed up against his, and her thighs were tightly together, pulling further so that her legs crossed.

Nancy furrowed her brow at him in question, and Tommy’s lips twitched as he turned to the road, starting the car and setting his hand back at her thigh.

His fingers trailed there as they drove, absent minded, fiddling, like he only did when he was making his plans.

Neither spoke until they were pulling up outside of a cottage, in a quiet little village. Nancy looked at Tommy, who was barely fighting his grin. He squeezed her thigh and said, ‘Come on then, sweetheart.’

She frowned, but slid out of his side, into his arms, feeling thick wetness slip out of her when she stood. Tommy gestured for her to go forward, so she did.

It felt like he was going to tell her it was time for her to live here, away from all the trouble. Away from him. Panic set in.

‘Tommy?’ she said in a whimper, feeling like a child. Over her shoulder, she watched him take an envelope from his pocket, and from that a key.

He grinned. ‘Come on!’

Forcing a smile, she followed. It was a lovely cottage. All nice stone, some nice flowers in the gardens. The fence was neat too. And inside – light, but cosy. No furniture, but he’d fix that soon enough.

She was stood in the kitchen, looking out at the road, when arms wrapped around her from behind.

‘Do you like it?’

‘It’s lovely, Tommy.’

He smiled, his cheek against hers as he covered her body with his. ‘The house is getting crowded, Nancy.’

Closing her eyes, she swallowed.

‘The house has always been crowded,’ he joked, then whispered, ‘This is not your big house in the country, Nancy. This is for Polly – and Michael. I want his teenage cock-brain away from my woman and out of my house. And I want Pol to be happy. Have her own home, a proper home.’

Her attitude switched, her heart bursting with joy and excitement for Polly. She span, shock evident on her face. ‘Oh, Tommy. She’ll love it. It’s perfect.’

He chuckled as she pulled away, looking around with new eyes, going into the next room and then clunking up the stairs in her heels.

‘It’s perfect!’ echoed again down the stairs and Tommy chuckled.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking around the bare walls, biting in his bottom lip, blinking in thought.

All the pieces, he could see then, slipping perfectly into place. His vision, coming to be. Peace settled on his chest, lighter than the things that usually sat there.

He only had to resist killing John, and decided whether or not to kill Alfie Solomons, and if he did those things, everything would go in his favour, as far as he could see.

As they slipped into the car, having locked up the new house, they turned to each other and grinned, sharing a sweet kiss, unaware of the chaos at home that awaited them.

The smoke, the fire.

The Garrison.

Chapter Text

Nancy leaned forward, carefully picking up her tea cup and sipping from it before placing it back down, the clink of the saucer like a gun shot through the silent room.

Finn had been running up the road towards them, waving his arms, flagging them down. The smell of burning sickened the city.

‘The pub, Tommy!’

It was all a blur now. He’d gotten out, pulling her with him. She knew that he wanted to go, that she was hindering him. He wouldn’t take her. Not into the unknown – whatever new fucking disaster was waiting for him. Looking up the street, he dragged her to a familiar front door and banged harshly on it until Esme answered with a wrinkle in her nose.

Tommy pushed past her, calling for John. Finn was in the street, before Tommy looked back at him over his shoulder with a silent but firm instruction to follow. ‘Johnny?’

John was still sporting light bruising from their altercation, and she hadn’t seen them speak since – but that wasn’t to say that they hadn’t.

John came down the stairs in trousers, socks, a vest, and his gold chain. His eyes flickered across the people in his living room, but he had no time to say anything.

‘Gun. Shut the curtains, lock the doors. Kids in?’ Tommy asked, guiding Nancy to sit in the armchair furthest from the window, stroking her hair away from her cheeks without even looking at her. He couldn’t. His people were in danger, and he had to make them safe as fast as he could. No distractions. Secure, protect, investigate.

John only nodded, ignoring Esme’s appalled glare as he moved back up the stairs, the kids coming down quietly in a line, silent grins forming when they saw Nancy. She smiled, letting them pile up around her on the arms of the chair, ankles and elbows poking around her hips. But then John came down, his pistols strapped at his waist, and a shotgun in his hands.

Tommy gave a nod to his brother, pushing Finn gently into the room too, sparing each a solid glance as if accounting for them before he left, but not without instructing, ‘Don’t come out till I send for you.’

The door closed, and John moved passed his wife to lock it. He asked Finn, ‘What’s going on?’

Finn’s expression turned troubled, his brows in a frown. ‘The pub’s been bombed.’

Esme glared at John. Nancy tugged Katie and Teddy closer, Joanna and Jamie sharing a glance over the top of her head where they perched on the arms of the chair.

Nancy blew out a gentle breath, trying to school her features.

‘You alright?’

She flicked her eyes to John, who had asked her. He was looking at her. She gave a nod, not able to speak with Esme’s vicious eyes on her.

She looked upset more than anything, really. Behind all the anger. Betrayed. Frustrated?

‘Arthur’s there with Billy and a few of the others – I was doing a run round to see if I could find you two,’ Finn said, nodding to Nancy.

‘Sorry – we were-’

She was cut off by Esme leaving the room, making way for the kitchen.

John opened and closed his mouth, frowning, blowing a sigh from his nose. Then suddenly, he was a man. A soldier. ‘Jamie, take the kids upstairs. Close all the windows and curtains. Go in you and Ted’s room and stay there. Yeah?’

The kids agreed, Jamie feeling most important.

Nancy had seen Tommy act a solider a lot. The night he’d come to get her from the brothel, barking his orders. All the way to now, the way he’d collected his assets and put them all in a safe place, going ahead alone to scout out for danger.

With the kids gone, Finn seemed small again. He took a trembling breath, and Nancy rose to sit by him.

‘Ah-ah,’ John uttered, pointing to her in an order to sit back down. ‘He put you in that seat. Your arse needs to be in it when he comes back.’

Nancy stood, walking past him with a roll of her eyes. ‘Anyone coming in to kill us would aim for you first anyways – you’re the one with the guns.’

John licked over his teeth, watching her settle herself beside Finn, putting a hand on his knee. ‘Tea.’

She didn’t look back as he left the room, or acknowledge his words – or the single word. She also pretended that she could not hear him and Esme whispering harshly to each other about the making and serving of the tea, or the way his voice cut out at the sound of a light slap.

John’s living room had one sofa and two armchairs, and in her madness, once she knew Finn was sick of being mothered, she moved back to her armchair, lest she have to sit by either one of them when they came back into the room.

John returned first, holding out her mug to her, and carrying his own in one hand, his shot gun in the other far too casually, hanging down at his thigh like he was carrying a pint of milk home.

He didn’t sit, and instead placed himself in the space of wall between the front door and the window, leaning out to peer through the crack in the curtains like a nosey old woman.

‘Who does he think will be coming here?’ Esme asked, too loud for the quiet, breaking the safe atmosphere in the room. She handed Finn a mug of tea and put herself in the empty armchair, looking to John for an answer.

He shrugged. ‘He will be figuring that out, then he’ll come here and tell us we’re clear. If someone has blown up the pub, they were either hoping to kill us or get a message to us.’

It was funny, that even though she’d sat in an unhealthy amount of family meetings, she’d never seen John in this role. As the man. The leader. The one who could answer a question and sound like he knew what he was talking about.

He was always so cheeky, so mischievous, it was usually difficult to take him seriously. But this was solider John. The John who got things done.

‘Where were you?’ Finn asked softly, breaking another long stretch of silence.

Nancy offered him a gentle smile. ‘We went for breakfast, and a drive.’

Finn nodded. The first thing Tommy and Nancy did at any opportunity was leave Birmingham. They’d rather sit in a car for an hour than spend any more time than they needed to in the city. At least, that’s how Finn saw it.

Really, Tommy just liked having her alone, to himself. Somewhere with no distractions. No eyes on her, no eyes on him. Just grass and clouds and the rumble of the engine. He could pretend they were people other than themselves that way, and so could she.

‘Tommy goes through petrol like Arthur goes through whiskey,’ John murmured, lifting the edge of the curtain over, thinking he’d seen someone.

Nancy didn’t say anything, and neither did anyone else.

__________

‘Oh, I like this one,’ Nancy gushed quietly, pulling out a paper dress, coloured neatly on the bottom by Joey and scribbled in by Katie on the bodice. She was lay on her stomach with Katie and Joanna on the wooden floor, Jamie patiently helping Teddy build a delicate tower from a deck of cards in the corner of the room behind Nancy. Teddy’s back was pressed into her hip, closer than he needed to be, a hand touching her when he could.

Joey carefully set the dress atop the paper doll, the lips coloured red, and her cheeks scribbled pink. She already wore frilly shorts and a bright green slip, and the multicolour dress finished it off nicely. Joey took this game most seriously, looking to Katie with her wary gaze. ‘Shoes?’

Nancy leaned into Katie’s side, scrunching her nose up in mock thought as the littlest Shelby hummed, shifting the paper shoes around to inspect each one carefully before making her choice.

‘Which ones?’ she whispered loudly to Nancy, who squinted.

‘Perhaps the yellow – you don’t see many girls with yellow shoes. She’d start off a new trend,’ she suggested, picking them up and handing them to Joanna who gave a nod, setting them at the paper girl’s feet with a satisfied smile.

‘She looks beautiful.’

Nancy smiled in agreement, glancing to where the real dolls were lined up on top of the girls set of drawers. ‘Do you know, it’s someone’s job to design dresses.’

‘The paper ones?’ Katie asked, missing tooth showing as she scrunched her face up in intrigue.

Nancy lay on her side, feeling Teddy shift to put his back firmly against hers. Reaching out, she tucked hair behind Katie’s ear and told her, ‘Well, there is that too. But there are men and women who make drawings of dresses and coats and hats and shoes for people to make. They make patterns, then they sell those to shops and tailors so that they can make the clothes for people.’

Joanna eyed Nancy’s dress where Katie reached out to trace fingers down the lace trim where it buttoned. Joanna swallowed, asking, ‘Do you make your clothes?’

Nancy’s face was open, light, kind, as she turned to her, brows risen a little, lips tugged up. ‘I can, I used to. But then your Uncle Tommy started buying me clothes. He went to the seamstress, gave her my measurements, and she makes me all my lovely dresses. Sometimes he picked the fabric too – if you can imagine it.’

‘You are Uncle Tommy’s doll,’ Kaite said with a giggle, and Joanna grinned, picking up one of the other paper girls.

‘This one looks like you,’ she mused, passing it over. ‘Let’s make the paper doll a white dress like yours and give it to Uncle Tommy when he comes for you.’

‘Yes!’ Katie agreed eagerly, then bending to make herself level with Nancy’s face, inspecting her most seriously. ‘We need a nice yellow for your beautiful hair. And some brown for your freckles. And pink for your lovely smiling mouth.’

Nancy chuckled, pushing herself to sit and turning, wrapping her arms around Teddy. It felt so nice to be with children again, even under the circumstances – even though their step-mother had let her know she was completely unwelcome. But Esme hadn’t stopped her when Teddy called down the stairs, asking if Nancy could play.

But Nancy hadn’t seen the warning glare John had set upon his wife, daring her to speak.

Cheek across the top of Teddy’s hair, Nancy hummed, closing her eyes. She felt young again, really young. At home with her nephews. Children had a magical way of making you forget about guns and bombs and men all together.

Maybe if Rosie had stayed, if the children had stayed, she wouldn’t have struggled to mourn Daniel so much. They’d have been a healthy distraction.

‘You can go back down when you want to,’ Jamie told her, and when she looked up at him, he wore the mask of a man, over the face of a small boy. Serious, reading her for reaction.

‘I like it just fine up here with you, if that’s okay?’ she offered, Teddy’s hand coming up to grip her arm that wrapped across his chest as he ran a car across the floor. ‘I don’t mind if you want me to go back downstairs.’

He shook his head, and replied politely, ‘No thank you.’

Nancy’s smile softened, watching him focus as he carefully balanced two cards in a triangle on the top of his tower. Jamie’s eyes flickered back to hers, and he tried to fight off a grin, so much that she chuckled.

‘What are you laughing at?’ Teddy asked from below her, breaking out in his own rowdy giggles where her fingers dug into his sides, tickling him without mercy. He squirmed on the floor, head thrown back, barking and gasping in laughter.

‘Do you yield?’ she asked.

‘Yes! Yes, princess!’ he yelled, another round of giggles as she paused, then lunged for him again.

The door opened then, and Finn appeared. ‘Tommy’s back.’

The children scrambled, as did Nancy amongst them, and Teddy took her hand to lead her down the stairs, the girls whispering behind her and Jamie closing the door behind them.

Tommy was stood near the door, ready to make an escape. He rocked on his heels, fists tight at his sides, trying to stay straight. He rubbed Teddy’s hair when he hugged him, guiding him off to the side where John collected him up in his arms and asked, ‘What were you laughing at, hey?’

‘Just Nancy – she’s so funny,’ Teddy informed then, face scrunched in laughter as he shook his head.

Nancy softened her eyes for Tommy, who looked at her as if they’d been separated for weeks, not an hour or two. But his expression shifted when she parted her lips to speak, jaw tightening, lips drawn down at the sides. She knew what that meant. To not ask yet. To ask when they were alone.

Tommy sniffed, arm out, accepting Nancy in under his wing where she settled most naturally. His rose his brows, eyes wide, ready to make his goodbyes, when Katie appeared in front of him, holding out her gift. Tommy took a schooling breath and crouched, and Nancy bit back her smile.

He had a bad habit of ignoring the children by accident sometimes. But other times, like this, she felt weak with his paternal instincts, watching his eyes hold contact with Katie’s, setting his most friendly and open smile on her, reserved only for those he didn’t deem untrustworthy.

‘What’s this then, tantrum?’ he asked, voice low and steady. His head was tilted, all attention on her. Nancy felt like she was looking into a mirror to the past. That’s how he used to look at her. Like she was innocent, sweet – like he wanted to be that too.

‘It’s Nancy, but she’s a paper doll,’ she explained, taking it back out of his hands and showing him how the tabs unfolded so that he could take the dress off and flip it over to the other side, which was coloured in red, with neat white gloves to match. ‘So you can dress her up and keep her in your pocket.’

The grin cut across his face like a blade, the stress rolling off him, and relief slipping between the muscles in his shoulders, across his back, up and along his jaw. ‘Oh, I like this very much.’

Katie was glowing. Thrilled. Making Uncle Tommy smile like that was no common occurrence.

‘Did you do this on your own?’

‘No, Joey helped me. She is better at doing the colouring good.’

Joanna shrank a little where she stood, hands clasped behind her back, waiting for approval.

Tommy bestowed his smile on her too, slipping the paper doll into his inside pocket. ‘Thank you, girls. I’ll look after it.’

‘Her!’ Katie insisted as Tommy rose, making him chuckle as he tugged at Nancy’s waist.

He ruffled Katie’s hair, and gave John a nod. ‘Family meeting tomorrow, yeah?’

‘Yes, Tom,’ he confirmed, eyes flittering over the pair of them, following Nancy as she kissed each child on the cheek.

Teddy pressed his lips firmly to hers, and then again into her hair. ‘You smell like sweets.’

‘You are too charming for your own good,’ she warned him, putting the tip of her nose to his and scrunching her nose in a teasing sniff. She brushed her gaze over John and Esme, murmuring, ‘Thank you for having me.’

‘Anytime, Nance,’ John stated firmly, but she hadn’t waited for reply. They were back out into the street, Tommy’s hand firm on the back of her dress, guiding her along with him.

He leant to her ear, voice rough and breathy, ‘It’s all going to be fixed. The pub too. Nothing to worry about.’

She nodded, a lump forming in her throat. She could tell the difference between him being right, and just him being determined. Unfortunately, as much as he willed it, the two didn’t always correspond.

What he meant really was that he’d be worrying about it alone. That she wasn’t to worry. That she wasn’t to ask.

He could tell that she was thinking, thinking too hard. He didn’t like the crease in her brow, the way she bit at the inside of her lip. So, he guided her through back streets, away from the pub, so that she wouldn’t have to see it yet, and he leant down to her ear.

‘I wanted to speak to you before, about something else too. I didn't want to ruin it at the cottage.’

‘What more could possibly be happening?’ she asked desperately, a laugh leaving her that held no humour.

They were in one of the wider back alleys, a cut through from one street to another. He stopped her, hands on her shoulders, that determined look on his face, eyes blown wide. ‘What happened today was for me, not for anyone else.’

‘I am you, Tommy. To everyone else, I am you.’

His mouth twitched to a grimace he was trying to find, and lightly trembling hands filtered into her hair at the temples, pulling her forehead to his lips. He breathed a great huff of hot breath across her head from his nose, then breathed her in before he released her, bending to her level.

‘Then I am twice the man I thought I was. With you, I am twice the man. Yeah? We’re about to be bigger and stronger than ever. No one will touch us soon. No one.’

Too much had happened in the short span of a few hours. Nancy’s eyes filled and she squeezed the tears away.

‘Don’t cry, love. You’re safe. Today is done – it’s fixed.’

Shaking her head, peeling it away from his grasp, she wiped her cheeks. ‘Sometimes when you promise everything is going to get better, something awful happens. I can feel it, Tommy.’

He gazed at her, disbelief in his eyes, betrayal. His voice was low, flat. ‘Nothing is going to happen to you.’

Nancy’s chin dimpled, and she shook her head. Softly, she repeated, ‘I am you, Tommy. What happens to you, happens to me.’

‘And you me,’ he said, almost automatically, then snapped his eyes away from her. He paced a couple of steps then came back to her. His jaw clenched, tighter and tighter until he swallowed and blurted, ‘We were always going to end up back in London, Nancy.’

Her heart pained. Tommy’s eyes were their icy blue, gazing into her, watching her realisation, her reaction.

‘I’m not going to let it haunt you. It’s a place. It’s just a place,’ he said, touching her hair again, but not pulling her in. He needed her to listen, to see him. ‘A few days. Maybe a week. You will stay here. Matthew will mind you. Polly too – and Michael if he’s of any use.’

‘What for, Tommy?’ she begged, and spoke over him when he opened his mouth to answer, ‘I know for the business. But what will you be doing? Where will you be going? To Solomons? I want to know. I need to know what you’ll be doing.’

He lightly shook his head, looking up and down the alley and back to her, hands hot on her cheeks, clammy. ‘I can’t, Nancy. I don’t know what will happen when we get there. Plans change.’

She couldn’t seem to speak, until a sob burst from her chest, and words of disbelief, ‘Someone has just blown up the pub and you’re going to leave me here?’

Tommy gazed at her, eyes flitting between hers, the rest of him so still it was unsettling.

‘How can it be fixed so quickly? How do you know it won’t be the shop next time, or the house?’

‘Why are you asking so many questions,’ he uttered, half under his breath, half guarded. ‘You never do. You never want to know.’

Blinking fast, she shook her head. ‘Because you’re leaving me, Tommy. When you’re here I don’t need to know anything other than that you’ll look after me. But with you gone I’ll have to look after myself.’

‘No you won’t,’ he insisted, eyes glazing, teeth gritting. ‘No you won’t.’

She shrugged his hands from the tops of her arms where they’d settled. Something about him was making her uncomfortable. Some deep primal thing in her told her to take a step back. Danger. Tommy looked panicked. He never panicked. Danger. Away. Step back.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked in horror, then firmed his voice, ‘Nancy.’

She stopped herself. This was Tommy. Her Tommy. She thought she could ask him anything and he’d answer, he’d tell her the truth. She never asked because she didn’t want to, but she’d never expected him to deny her information. To keep secrets. But it wasn’t that which bothered her, that made her skin prickle. It was the look on his face. Those crazed eyes.

‘You look scared, Tommy. It’s – it’s scaring me.’

His arms dropped, face smoothing, but not to his blank expression, to his mask. It smoothed to relief. He moved to her, hands reaching her, pulling her to his chest. ‘Of course I’m scared. You were looking at me like I was a stranger. Like I was going to hurt you.’

‘Was I?’ she whispered, surprised. ‘Was I?’

‘Nothing scares me, only you. Your eyes on me like that. Like you might run. Like you don’t know me. I wouldn’t leave you here alone if it was dangerous for you, my love. Matthew would take a bullet for you – or ten. The danger will follow me anyhow – it always does, doesn’t it?’

His voice was smooth, and comforting. It was supposed to be comforting.

‘Ey?’

‘Yeah,’ she murmured. ‘Take it with you, and when you come back, leave it in London where it belongs, won’t you?’

Tommy chuckled a little, lining their bodies up against each other, swaying her softly. He loved to hold her. ‘That’d be like leaving my own shadow behind.’

She felt him starting to pull away, to try to see her face. But she felt so exposed. Like the scar on her face knew she was thinking about it. She could feel it, tight on her. She wondered it Alfie Solomons ever thought about her. If his hand tingled sometimes, like her face did. If it prickled him, phantom feelings, reminding him of that day. Did he think about it? Did he even remember? Regret?

Nancy shoved her face into his chest, and Tommy pressed his lips to the top of her head.

‘Let’s get you home, ey. I’ve got to check on Arthur.’

‘I’ll go,’ she offered. Tommy was not much a comfort to Arthur when he was struggling.

Tommy’s tongue clicked and she felt his sigh on her hair. ‘He’ll be off his head. Snow, the drink. I don’t want you near him like that.’

‘He will be so upset.’ A hand rubbed her back, soothing. The lump in her throat had made her voice leap. ‘Will you tell him to come round for breakfast? I’ll make him an egg sandwich, like he likes.’

Smiling, a true warm smile, Tommy nodded and kissed her head again. ‘Better still, I’ll go knock him up in the morning, make sure it’s his breakfast and not his lunch. What do you think, ey? Let me see that face. I want to kiss you.’

She obediently lifted her chin and let his soft mouth kiss at her drying tears before pressing against her lips, tasting like salt.

He was so close that they were both nearly cross eyed. It made her feel drunk on him, her heart hammering and her vision blurred.

Perhaps drunk wouldn’t but such a bad idea. Wine, or whiskey.

Snow, like Arthur.

Whatever would stop her face from itching, her mind from reeling, her palms from sweating.

But it wasn’t her palms though, she realised again. It was his. Tommy’s hand in hers as they walked home. Sweating.

Clammy. Nervous.

Scared.

Chapter Text

Silence fell on the room as Nancy clicked the door open. She glanced around the room. Finn. Arthur. Curly. Charlie. Polly. John. She didn’t notice Esme on the stairs, until she did, gazing out at her from behind darkly lined eyes.

Although she felt like she was interrupting, she forced herself forward at Curly’s grin, asking, ‘How is everyone?’

Polly gave her a gentle smile, one of her pitying ones. ‘Don’t bother bringing your cheer in here, Nancy Owen. There’s none of that to be had.’

Charlie and Arthur chuckled a little at that, the latter rising and pulling out the chair opposite Polly at the head of the table. ‘Ere, Nancy-girl. Take a perch here. There you are.’

He seemed even more noisy, even more clumsy, in the awkward and tense silence as they awaited Tommy. But he grinned at her, his heart of gold shining. But Arthur’s gaze had become scattered as of late. His hands always in a tremble. His mouth moving with no words coming out.

‘Thanks, Arthur,’ Nancy said softly as he poured her a drink from a soot covered bottle. ‘Did these survive the pub?’

‘They did indeed – something akin to destiny, that is,’ he jested, offering the bottle up to John who took it to refill his glass.

‘Is he gracing us with his presence anytime soon, Nance? I was under the impression that you two moved as a singular unit – joined at the crotch.’

‘Alright, Pol,’ John scolded with a grimace, which made Polly’s lips pull into an amused smirk.

‘He will be along,’ Nancy promised, then looked to Curly. ‘How are the cats?’

Charlie rolled his eyes as Curly grinned, nodding enthusiastically. ‘They are grand, Miss Nancy, just grand.’

‘I’ll fetch them a fish this week when I can,’ she decided, hearing a light feminine scoff from somewhere behind her. Just to irritate Esme further, she finished her drink and set it down on the table. It was a bit of a test of power, really.

It worked in the pub, she’d finish a drink and another would appear for her. Or she’d pull out her cigarettes and someone would be there to light one for her. But here, in such close quarters and in such awkward dynamics, she wasn’t sure if it would work.

But almost immediately, almost automatically, as she set her glass on the table, John stepped forward and absently filled it, stepping back again and screwing the cap back on the whiskey.

It wasn’t something that she demanded, or something she expected. But it did feel viciously good to be sat at the table whilst Esme hid in the shadows after she’d been so vile to her.

Nancy caught herself.

What a hideous thought.

She met eyes with Polly, who seemed to already be watching her, a brow lightly raised in observation, or in judgement. Polly was perhaps the worst of the Shelby’s for hiding her emotions, besides John.

‘Esme,’ Nancy started, and Polly’s expression firmed. She wasn’t sure she’d ever said Esme’s name to her, and it came out a bit high pitched. But she kept on. ‘Why don’t you come and sit with us?’

There was a long pause. Arthur’s mouth was twitching, as he glanced between John and Esme. John looked down, tongue rolling against his cheek.

‘Apparently I’m family enough to come to the meeting but not to speak.’

Polly looked like she was chewing on a bee. Nancy didn’t want to look at John. She didn’t look at anyone. Instead, she turned her head, meeting Esme’s guarded eyes, and was about to speak when the door opened, and Tommy appeared.

He looked to Nancy, then followed her gaze, noting Esme without reaction other than the lightest flick of his brow as he moved into the room. ‘Greetings.’

He gravitated to her, hovering behind her, a hand at her shoulder.

‘Are we all ready to start?’

‘We’ve been ready for some time,’ Polly informed him, both brows raised.

She heard him inhale, ready to start his big speech, but Nancy set her hand over his and twisted to look up at him with meaning. ‘I was just inviting Esme to sit at the table. There are plenty of seats.’

Despite his disagreement with Esme being there at all, Tommy’s expression softened. He wanted to reach out, stroke a finger down her cheek, tell her how kind and soft and lovely she was. But instead, he kept eyes on her, and said, ‘No one has told Esme that she can’t sit at the table.’

‘I’m here. Where I sit makes little difference,’ she said firmly, defiantly. Then, her voice softened a little. ‘I do have something to say though.’

‘You do?’ Tommy asked, touching Nancy again as he passed her to move the ash tray to the table, busying himself with lighting two cigarettes, one for her and one for him.

‘I speak for my household,’ John stated, eyes set on his wife.

He really should have stayed quiet, because Nancy could practically taste the amusement on the air, radiating off John’s older brothers and Charlie. But that wasn’t John. It was never John to keep his mouth shut.

‘Now, now, John. This is a modern enterprise. We believe in equal rights and an equal voice for women,’ he said, then nodded to the top of the table, ‘Just look at Pol.’

Polly practically sneered at him as he licked his bottom lip, amused at her irritation. He tried to settle his smile though, when Nancy gave him a flat glance.

‘Please, Esme. Speak.’

She took a moment, but spoke up with a steady voice, ‘I may not be a blood member of this family, but perhaps that is why I can say this. This business, this company, is doing well enough here, North. Bombs are the least of it in London. It’s suicide to get involved down there, where there are mixes of all folk, where it’s wars between armies and the coppers fight side by side with them all. It’s all smoke and trouble. John has got four children to look after, to come home to. I’d like a home one day, out in the country. Chickens, dogs. A normal life. Why not make the most of what you have here, set yourself up for the future? Instead of risking your futures chasing dirty money.’

A silence fell over the room.

Nancy, who hadn’t cared much at all for Esme’s opinion, felt a turning in her chest, and in her mindset. A house in the country. Animals. Family.

It was all that she wanted. All that she had ever wanted, really. It was a simple dream, but one that she understood. One that she knew well.

Esme didn’t feel to her in that moment like some vicious hateful cow. She just sounded like a girl, a young girl, with a dream. The dream was peace, and quiet, and content. Somewhere away from all the smoke and the city.

Arthur began to smirk. ‘That was a lot of words,’ he said, sniffing and pouring a glass, ‘Here, Tommy, wash them down with a drink, hey.’

Tommy took the out-stretched glass. ‘Thank you, Esme,’ he said, taking a sip. Then, he righted himself, ready to start the meeting. ‘Right. The bomb had nothing to do with London, so you can all get that out of your heads first of all. Nine tenths of what we do in London will be legal – the rest will be in hand. Anyone without ambition can leave – now. Go raise some chickens. Those in support, the expansion process begins tomorrow.’

Tomorrow. Nancy’s heart clenched in her chest. She looked at him, and he held her gaze. Those bright blue eyes, wide and firm. Telling her to ask no questions. Nothing emotional. Not yet.

She was silent as others began to peel away, at varying levels of excitement. Polly looked like she was going to linger, but she could read the unwelcome sign Tommy was giving her, by gazing at Nancy and only Nancy as he smoked, and the poor girl watched him right back.

Polly remembered the first time Nancy told Tommy off, and she’d lost a bit of that fire – or maybe learned how to control it better. How to keep it on the coal grate. London had stripped her of some of it, Daniel’s death too. The world. How it had changed for her. She’d had no choice but to change with it.

‘We’ve a surprise for you later, Pol,’ Tommy said softly when she made a show of rising, placing the strap of her bag neatly on her shoulder.

She hummed, brow raised in wary judgement. But she kissed his cheek, and moved to Nancy to do the same, telling her, ‘You go, girl.’

Nancy did smirk, despite the whirling feelings in her. She liked the idea that Polly thought she was going to give Tommy a good talking to, like she was a great power house of a woman.

She wasn’t though. She was just Nancy.

So, she smiled softly once they were alone, tilting her head to him. ‘That went well?’

He moved his head side to side in consideration, moving towards her and pulling out the chair beside her, pulling it out from the table and closer, setting fingertips at the hem of her skirts and absent minded sliding it up and back so that he could trail circles atop her knees.

‘Esme pisses me off,’ he admitted softly.

‘Let John worry about her,’ she sighed, which pleased him, his fingers spreading across the bottoms of her thighs, lifting his gaze to meet hers. ‘Can you tell me what is going on?’

Tommy took in a breath, blowing it out steadily, holding her gaze. His thumbs rubbed into the smooth skin at the edges of her thighs. ‘Tomorrow is Newmarket – all the London bosses will be there. I want to show our hand, and the jews need an ally.’

Tommy had made her feel sick in a thousand different ways since she met him. Fear – shock – longing. But this was the most familiar. Realisation – and the disappointment that followed. The hurt.

‘Solomons, then. Solomons needs an ally.’

Tommy was making himself level with her, tilting his head so that he could catch her eyes. ‘We’ve spoken about this. It wasn’t personal, ey? It had nothing to do with you, what happened.’

She had agreed. She had said that. She knew it was true. But this felt too much a betrayal. Not seeking revenge seemed sensible, but actively seeking friendship was an entirely different beast.

Tommy could see the wall growing. One that took him only a flicker of a moment in his own head, unseen by most. But in Nancy, he could see as she carefully placed each and every brick, closing herself off from him. ‘Hey, sweetheart. Don’t do that.’

A tired smile formed on her lips and she took a steadying breath. ‘I understand, Tommy. I do. I just worry.’

He began a cocky smirk. ‘Don’t worry about me, my girl. It is well in hand.’

She wanted to believe him, so she chose to. And she dutifully kissed him goodbye outside of the house on Watery Lane, promising to go shopping with Polly to get new things for the cottage. Curtains. Plates. An armchair. Things to make a life.

They did their shopping, and visited with Keith and Ken too, stopping for a cup of tea and being coaxed into staying for dinner.

Half filled with wine, Matthew following vigilantly behind up the street, the girls made their way back to Watery Lane.

‘Oh, he’s a right laugh that Keith,’ Polly sighed, chuckling to herself.

‘He doesn’t realise he’s being funny, bless him,’ Nancy mused, ‘You were teasing him something rotten, Polly Grey.’

‘Well, what’s dinner without a wind up?’ she mocked, seeing the lights on in the house still a ways up the road. ‘Michael must still be up. He’s a good lad – isn’t he?’

‘I think he’s lovely,’ Nancy promised, wholeheartedly. ‘He’s a little quiet sometimes, but he’s finding his place.’

Polly grinned her cat-like smile of pride. ‘My Michael. He can’t wait for the cottage.’
Nancy gave a tired smile, thinking that at least some of them had some good. Heels clacking, the girls made their way to home.

Polly opened the front door, squeals sounding inside. ‘What are you lot doing here?’

Nancy moved into the house, wishing Matthew a goodnight, telling him he was to go straight home – no lingering. She was rushed, small arms wrapping around her legs.

‘Nancy!’

‘Katie?’ she asked, looking up to assess the room. John’s children were all there, along with Finn and Michael and Isiah – a now almost constant fixture.

There was the distinct feeling that something was wrong, especially with the expression on Michael’s face as he rose to greet them.

‘Miss Nancy,’ Isiah greeted, kissing her cheek. ‘I’ll be off.’

‘Coward,’ Finn called after him as he slipped out the door. His face was scrunched in a vile sneer. ‘She’s gone.’

‘Whose gone?’ Polly asked, looking around, checking for Joanna and Katie. ‘Who?’

Michael frowned. ‘Esme. She dropped them off.’

Polly’s jaw went slack, and she looked to Nancy with sharp rage, growling out, ‘When?’

‘Couple of hours ago,’ he rushed, looking back to Finn. ‘We gave them some food, but we didn’t know where to go from there. Thought you’d be home sooner, mum.’

She ignored that slight, and put hands on her hips, rolling her lips together, eyes closed, facing the ground.

‘Can we stay with you?’ Teddy asked Nancy, eyes big and round.

‘What about our things?’ Joanna said, frowning with worry.

Polly raised her palms to the sky then slapped them again to her thighs, looking to Nancy with wide eyes of disbelief.

‘Right,’ Nancy started, putting hands on the children she could reach. ‘Lets – lets get you all home. I’ll stay over with you tonight, what do you think? Then we will make a plan in the morning.’

Polly was still shaking her head as the kids cheered and rushed to get their shoes on. ‘Are you sure?’

Nancy was not sure. Not at all. But she nodded. ‘Yeah. I’ll – I’ll get them to bed. We’ll come round in the morning, yeah? No point us all cramping together when there is a whole house to use.’

Polly frowned, looking to Finn. ‘What did she say?’

He shrugged. ‘That she told John this is what she would do, and she was a woman of her word.’ He glanced at Nancy and back to his mum. ‘Had a few words to say about Tommy. But I’ll pass those on to him.’

Polly rolled her eyes, scoffing a little. Then she seemed to right herself, looking to Nancy. ‘Stick your head out the door, see if Matty’s still about. He can walk you over.’

‘Oh, he will be,’ she sighed, opening the front door, Katie in tow, and finding Matty leaned back against the house, smoking. She scrunched her nose at him, smirking. ‘Oh, good evening, Matthew.’

He kept his eyes forward, squashing his guilty smile. ‘Nancy.’

She eyed him a moment longer, seeing if he’d crack, but he didn’t. ‘Can you wait for five then walk me and the kids over John’s?’

He gave a nod, taking a drag from his cigarette and finally looking sideways to her, to be bestowed one of her thankful smiles. He gave her a grin, shaking his head and watching her disappear inside. She reappeared a few moments later, the four children in tow, and he walked them round to John’s house, waiting until they were all inside before readying to leave.

‘You going to be alright here?’ he asked, glancing up the building.

She leaned out, kissing his cheek swiftly. ‘Thank you, Matthew. Of course. I’ll lock up now, don’t you worry.’

He gave her a nod. ‘Take the key out the door as well once you’ve locked it. Folk reach through letter boxes nowadays.’

‘No one is going to try to break into this house, Matthew. Besides, there’s a few guns in here unless John’s cleared out – I’m sure I’ll figure one of them out if needs be,’ she teased, enjoying his squint. ‘Goodnight, Matthew.’

‘Night, chick.’ He stood a moment longer, waiting until he heard the lock click, then made his way home.

Nancy wrangled the kids into their rooms, but did end up with Kaite and Teddy in with her by around midnight. She was awake anyways, so it didn’t matter. She’d originally planned to sleep on the sofa, but knew that was ridiculous when there was a perfectly good bed upstairs.

Only it wasn’t good. It was John’s. And Esme’s – even if she didn’t want it.

The sheets smelled known and unknown to her. The view from the mattress still too fresh in her mind. She was glad of the kids, and even more when Joanna and Jamie snuck in around one, having made a pact to go together.

Breakfast was a feast. Eggs, bacon, fried bread, sausages. Cake for pudding. Hot milk. A walk up the markets for a biscuit each once Polly had knocked on to check on them.

Nancy and Joanna did a load of washing, which Jamie hung out on the line at the back window. Katie did very well tidying away all the toys, and very much enjoyed bossing Teddy around to get the job done faster. Nancy had a sense of urgency. To be as helpful as possible, to soften the blow. Also, a need to keep busy. Less time worrying about London, about Tommy, and about John’s return.

She wondered if he’d come straight home, or if they’d go to Watery Lane first and find out from Polly.

‘Wow,’ Teddy said when he reached her in the living room. ‘It’s clean.’

She chuckled, carrying through a clean cloth for the windows and a bottle of vinegar mixture to get them sparkling. ‘Do you think your da will be pleased?’

‘He won’t notice,’ Joanna said lightly, but she carried on straightening out the cushions whilst Katie and Jamie polished the surfaces.

Nancy chuckled, wetting her cloth and beginning to work circles into the window. The house was much cleaner than when it had just been John, to give Esme her due. But she had thought, whilst she lay in his bed, haunted by memories, that if she got the whole house immaculate, John would have one less thing to worry about – and the kids. At least for a few days.

It was unclear whether or not it had been good timing, being there at the window when he marched up to the house, face grim, light bruising at one eyebrow. His pale blue eyes caught on hers, and his expression changed to a look of complete shock.

So he had come straight home, that she knew, two seconds before the door opened.

‘Dad!’

‘Da!’

Nancy bit in her bottom lip, moving on fast feet to the kitchen to put the cloth and the cleaner away. She was a coward, really. Rubbing her temples, she took a breath and made her way back into the living room, where Katie was excitedly showing him her cleaning.

John’s eyes lifted to hers amongst the chaos, seeing how she used the back of her wrist to brush fly away hairs from her flushed face, a couple of stains on her pretty purple dress. Bare feet too.

‘Why don’t you all go get the washing in while I talk to your dad, hey?’ Nancy offered, grinning at their excitement. She stopped Jamie as he passed her, telling him, ‘No lifting them, let them hold the peg basket.’

He rolled his eyes but smiled. ‘Yeah, yeah.’

They stood in silence, waiting the back door to close, and when it did, she opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it:

‘She went then.’

‘Yeah,’ Nancy confessed softly. ‘I’m sorry, John. I – we didn’t even know. She’d left them with Michael and Finn. So I fetched them home so they’d be comfortable. They’ve cleaned. Oh – we all shared your bed. No one could sleep.’

‘All too much excitement for them,’ he said, but it was flat. He was gazing at the sofa, face blank, until he broke out in a sarcastic smile. ‘What a fucking mess, ey?’

She frowned. ‘How was London?’

John met her eyes then, firmly. ‘Tommy’ll want to tell you himself, I’m sure.’

Nancy winced. That was clearly an instruction to leave. She took the scarf out that was keeping her hair away from her face and bunched it in her fist as she moved to put her shoes on. ‘Right. I’ll be off. I’ll let you catch up with them.’

He was nodding, looking down again. But he murmured, ‘You better say bye to them, or they’ll have my head.’

Automatically, because she was close enough, and because it’s what she would have done with anyone else, she reached out and touched his arm, her grip soft but decided. Then she was away again, out the back door.

‘Come on then, give me a cuddle, I’m going home,’ she announced, arms wide.

John came to stand at the back step, watching them rush her, Joanna telling her, ‘You’ll need to come and visit us.’

‘You’ll have to feed us!’ Teddy declared.

Nancy laughed. ‘How's about I talk to Aunt Polly about you coming for dinner tonight or tomorrow, hey?’

They made enthusiastic sounds of agreement before she pulled away, lifting her eyes to John, who was watching on with a gentle smile. Far too gentle for him.

‘Is that okay?’ she asked when she got near enough.

‘Course,’ he nodded, stepping aside and letting her lead the way through the house.

'Will you go after her?'

He grimaced, shaking his head. 'Not the first time she's threatened to go, but it is the first time she's actually done it. So I'm guessing she means it.' He had his hands in his pockets, thumbnails digging into the edge of his pointer fingers as he walked. ‘Funny, ey, I wanted you here looking after my kids all that time ago. And here we are.’

‘Funny how things work out, isn’t it?’ she said, because what else could she? She put her hand on the door handle, sending him a smile.

‘Hilarious,’ he mused, brows flicking up, mouth pulling down at the sides. He nodded towards the door, letting her know it was okay to leave. She seemed hesitant. ‘I’ll come by later.’

She gave a small nod, feeling like there was more to say, but not being able to find the words – or even the intention. ‘Bye.’

‘Bye, love,’ he murmured, a little to late, just before the door clicked shut. He looked around the room, listening to the kids coming in the back door, slamming it behind them, their laughter and voices so loud it filled the house.

He glanced out the window, seeing her moving away, smaller and smaller as she went.

‘Fucking hilarious.’

Chapter Text

‘Good morning, Nancy Owen,’ Polly greeted the following day, stood in the kitchen doorway in her dressing gown, fag between her fingers and hair down. Polly didn’t like to tell it often, but she did worry about the boys. Especially after Tommy had relayed a very brief telling of their activities in London, the sacking of Sambini’s club.

‘What have I done now?’ she asked tiredly, pulling out two mugs and sloppily fixing two cups for tea. ‘Cuppa?’

‘Yes, please, Madame Secretary,’ Polly replied, a small smirk pulling at her lips when Nancy glanced up. ‘Pleased?’

‘It’s to early to feel anything at all,’ Nancy sighed, meaning both in the day and towards her newly appointed position. As of last night – only a half hour after he’d greeted her – Tommy asked her if she’d work for him properly. Doing a proper job. No scrappy notes slipped through letterboxes, no scribbling in the pub books. But a proper job. Phone calls and typing.

Polly gazed out the back door, blowing her smoke, a thoughtful look on her face. ‘He can’t decide whether to keep you close or keep you away,’ then, her expression turned to one of knowing, ‘Then again, it’s always been like that hasn’t it?’

Nancy’s face creased in a grimace, eyes closed, rubbing her forehead. ‘Have you seen him this morning?’

‘Heard the front door go early. I hoped for an axeman to put us all out of out misery,’ she replied, flicking her cigarette out the door and closing it. ‘What is the plan for the day?’

‘Going to check on John and the kids, then check on Arthur. I think he’s spiralling, Pol. He’s more and more jittery every time I see him,’ she spoked absently, fixing their drinks and setting them down.

Polly sipped, looking at her over the rim of her cup.

Nancy glared, setting her mug down. ‘What?’

‘You’re more like Ada day by day,’ she warned her, fixing her with a raised brow. But Nancy only gazed, awaiting response. Polly fiddled with her cup. ‘You asked Tommy about going round John’s?’

‘Tommy’s not here to ask,’ Nancy meanly snapped. She was tired. So much was happening at once. She could barely sleep. She sighed at Polly’s patience, grateful for it. ‘I don’t think I need permission.’

Polly nodded, observing her as she spoke. It was strange, this creature that had come to them so naïve and so sweet, with so much life happened to her in such a short stretch of time. They all still treat her like she was golden, but there were scuffs, and some of them were rough and deep.

Nancy set fingertips to her temples, closing her eyes and asking in a low voice, ‘What is it, Polly? Did you have another dream?’

There was silence a while, and when she opened her eyes, Nancy found Polly with a grave look of warning on her face. ‘You be careful. We both know that John’s not. And those kids are attached enough as it is.’

A growling groan rumbled into the room, Michael coming in, half way dressed in a vest and trousers, but his hair neatly fixed. He bent, kissing Polly’s temple. ‘Morning, mum - Nancy.’

Nancy’s jaw tightened, watching Polly smile and pat his hand where it landed on her shoulder. He pulled away, muttering about the water being hot, the sound of him making himself a drink disrupting the heavy silence in the room.

‘Polly, can I have a word?’

‘We can discuss things here, should there be nothing untoward to talk about,’ she reasoned, smiling, blinking.

Tongue against her cheek, Nancy sighed out of her nose, glancing at the back of Michael’s head then back to Polly. She mouthed, ‘Cow,’ at Polly, which the older woman delighted in.

They sat in silence, Polly sipping at her tea, Nancy gazing at the wall, whilst Michael twittered about his morning, fixing a drink and grabbing an apple before leaving the room with a, ‘I’ll be back in ten – don’t kill each other.’

Polly smirked and Nancy leaned across the table to her.

She whispered firmly, ‘Not once have I done anything inappropriate with John – not once.’

‘I didn’t said you had, my love. But he is inappropriate. You know that. Yet you put yourself in positions that allow him to do it,’ Polly warned, explaining slow and steady. She squinted a little. ‘Do you understand what I’m saying? I don’t think you’ve a wicked bone in your body, love. But it’s just as bad letting things happen as it is doing them. I don’t want anything bad for any of you.’

Nancy was silent, but nodded, keeping her lips firmly closed, until she blurted, ‘But they’re family. It was in my head all night, wondering if they were alright. How he must be feeling, and them. I know they weren’t that fond of her, but they must have been a little. John too. You know?’

‘I know, Nance. But some people aren’t ours to worry about. They’re family, they are. John included. But he needs to remember that too, and when he doesn’t, you have to remind him.’

‘You think that I don’t?’

Polly smiled, tilting her head. ‘I think you’re gentle, Nancy. When you aren’t lobbing bricks. I think you’ve a heart so big you don’t know where to put it besides anywhere it’ll fit.’

She had looked away, so Polly put a hand over hers.

‘I’m not trying to tell you off, love. I’m just trying to warn you. Don’t set yourself up for anything.’

But the stress, the nerves, the exhaustion, it was on top of her, keeping her down in the shadows. So, she snarled a little. ‘I’m going to go about my life loving, and being good, Polly. If other people want to take advantage of that, or judge me for it, or blame me for the sins of others, that is their issue and not mine. And if I want to, out of the goodness, take some food to those kids and make sure they’re dressed and washed, and someone takes advantage of that, or someone gets angry at me for it, because I’ve allowed the situation and something bad happens, then maybe it’s not me they need to be looking at, but a fucking mirror.’

Polly was frowning, deep set.

‘Do you blame a drunk girl for getting raped? Or do you blame the pig who took advantage?’

‘Alright, that’s a bit far fetched, Nance,’ she sighed, standing and moving from the table, starting to set up for breakfast.

‘No it’s not, Polly. If I go to that house with only good in my soul, and John takes it as an opportunity to act a fool on his brother’s girl, that’s not my fault.’

‘No, Nancy,’ Polly said loudly before she could keep going, turning and setting a firm glare on her. ‘It wouldn’t be your fault. John is a pig. But you wouldn’t put on your heels and tramp down to the farms and into the pen with the rest of them, would you? No, because those shiny little shoes and hem of your pretty dress would get spoiled.’

Nancy rolled her eyes, feeling every part the brat, every part a little foolish girl, and moved for the door, marching face first into Michael who caught her arms.

‘Slow down,’ he teased lightly, but she shrugged away, pushing past him and to the stairs where she dressed swiftly and left the house for the day.

__________

‘Hi!’ Jamie greeted excitedly, opening the door wider and letting her come in. ‘Dad’s still in bed, Joey’s making breakfast.’

Nancy heard a few clatters from the kitchen, then Katie calling, ‘Who is it?’

‘It’s Nancy!’ Jamie called back, rushing past her to go back out the back door where he’d been kicking a ball back and forth with Teddy until Joanna instructed him to answer at the front.

There was a thud upstairs, then thundering footsteps. John rushed down, two steps at a time, in a vest and trousers, only pulled up to his thighs when he appeared. By the time he reached the bottom, he was buttoning them. His hair was all soft and undone, eyes squinted slightly by their sleep.

‘Nancy, love, morning,’ he sounded out each word, trying to smooth his hair back as he looked around the room. He was mortified by her beautiful dress, her made up face, her hair. Oh, her hair. ‘Everything alright?’

‘Yeah, of course,’ she mused, feeling a little tight chested after all of Polly’s warnings that morning. She lifted the basket she held a little. ‘Brought some supplies. Told the kids I’d come round.’

Katie appeared then, wrapping arms around her legs. ‘Are we still having dinner with you tonight?’

Nancy grinned. ‘Of course, sweetheart. If that’s okay with your daddy?’

John blinked a few times, but nodded, pushing a smile.

‘Here, take this to Joey,’ Nancy whispered, passing her the basket and smirking a little at Katie’s glee for being given a most important task after likely being bossed around the kitchen all morning by her sister. She looked to John. ‘Ah, sorry. I just-’

‘You’re just lovely, I know,’ he said softly, giving her a nod. ‘I don’t mind you coming round, I’ve said that. I just feel like a prick for being in bed still while this lot were up.’

She glanced over his bruises. ‘You’ve had a busy few days – a lot has happened.’

He sighed and agreed. ‘More’s about to as well, ey?’

‘Isn’t it always?’ Nancy mused, shedding her coat and throwing it over the back of the sofa. ‘I’ll fix you a cuppa and make sure they haven’t lost any fingers, yeah?’

She didn’t wait for response, simply moved through to the next room to find a growing tower of jam covered toast, surrounded by variously sized apple slices and five tea cups, Katie neatly placing another one on a saucer.

‘Morning,’ Joey greeted, expertly coating another slice of toast.

‘Shall I do the tea?’ Nancy offered, and got to work. She glanced out of the window, seeing Teddy on Jamie’s back, who ran around in circles, making his little brother howl with laughter.

‘Put ‘im down,’ John called, appearing suddenly by the back door, smiling softly at his sons in their mischief.

It was all horribly domestic, seeing him there with his hand in his pocket, leaning against the door, bare feet and gold chain on show. She suddenly felt sick. He smiled at her, bringing the cigarette to his lips, blowing the smoke out of one side, out of the back door.

Eating breakfast all together was even worse. Nancy focused on the children, but sat at the table, kids in their pyjamas, the morning breeze coming in through the open door, thinning the smell of burnt toast and stale smoke, it was all so intimate.

But it was nice.

John had Katie on his knee, teasing her for her messy hair. Joanna and Jamie were debating something about one of their friends from school, and Teddy was building with the crusts of his toast.

People often forget that to have lovely kids there has to be some lovely parenting involved. And yes, John was close to neglectful some days. But they were fed, they were clean, they were safe. And they were loved. So clearly they were loved.

How she’d felt young as she played paper dolls with the girls, John seemed younger then, and older all at once. Open, spread like sweet jam over them all, making sure he responded to every excited exclamation, soothed every upset and squashed any cheeky response.

She’d never been that comfortable around her parents, not her father anyways. Not even Dan, either.

‘There’s the door,’ John said to a knock, moving to shift Katie from his knee, but Nancy lurched from the table as if her chair had burnt her.

‘I’ll get it, you stay,’ she murmured, wiping her hands swiftly on a tea towel and moving to the door, where another thudding knock made the letter box jump. A sickly feeling turned her stomach. She felt guilty, suddenly. Like her shoes and her skirt hem had indeed been dirtied.

Tommy had a glare set on his face, which did not change when Nancy opened the door and he met her eyes. His expression firmed, then froze. He stood silent a moment, not looking away, then stepped into the house, moving around her as she shifted to let him through.

Taking a deep breath, she closed the door, setting hands lightly on her stomach for a second to steady herself blowing it out. When she got back to the kitchen, John and Tommy were outside, the back door shut, and the kids were carrying on as normal.

Picking up empty plates, Nancy moved, setting them in the sink, wiping at the stuck on jam on the sides, doing anything that she could do to clean up some of the evidence of her non-betrayal. Was it betrayal? Or was Polly just in her head? Either way, she rushed, cleaning and wiping faces.

‘Will you do my hair?’ Katie asked, after Jamie and Teddy had gone to get dressed.

‘Ah,’ Nancy worried, glancing at the back window but seeing the men still in conversation, just the side of John’s face as he scrunched his nose, nodding to whatever Tommy was saying. ‘Yes, if you get dressed and fetch a brush down – and some ribbons. Go on.’

‘I’ll help tidy,’ Joey said, and she did.

Nancy washed whilst she dried, and Nancy watched out of the window, waiting for the anger, for the argument. She imagined having to get them off each other with the kids watching. Impossible.

She was almost done with Katie’s hair when they came back through, finishing off the remnants of their conversation. Tommy didn’t even look at her.

John looked at her though, expecting Tommy to stop to speak to her, but he didn’t. He walked straight through and out the front door, calling goodbye to the kids and a ‘see you later’ to John.

‘Ah,’ John started, but saw her jaw firm as she tied the last bow and patted Katie away. ‘Nancy-’

‘Tell them I said goodbye, won’t you,’ she murmured, moving through to the sitting room as he followed. ‘There’s things for your lunches, I put it all away. Dinner at six if you all still want to come.’

He wanted to say more, but he could see her reddening cheeks, the way her hands dithered as she pulled on her coat and untucked her hair. ‘He’ll not stay mad at you for long, Nance. Never does, does he?’

‘He can do whatever he likes. I’m not so forgiving,’ she muttered darkly, then finally met his eye, her hand on the door handle. ‘See you later, John.’

‘Bye, love.’

She seethed up the street, catching eyes on the cap up the road, Tommy shaking hands with someone, patting them on the shoulder, all smiles and sweetness. She marched. He’d seen her, she knew. He’d glanced up at her as he bid the man and his wife a good day.

He carried on walking, but it was slower, letting her catch up. ‘Good morning, Nancy,’ he said once she was by his side, huffing a little, heels clacking.

‘Good morning?’ she asked, louder than he would have liked, glaring at him in disbelief. ‘Good morning, Tommy?’

‘It is the morning,’ he mused, looking up to the sky. ‘The weather is fair, Miss Owen. It appears good to me.’

‘Well if the morning is so good then why not say that to me in John’s?’

He stopped, still not looking at her, taking a moment to glance back up the street, lips pulling in a fake expression of confusion. ‘Oh, that wasn’t you in there, was it?’

Finally, his eyes fell on her, and she felt them like it were a lead coffin closing around her.

‘Because I know that my girl wouldn’t be sat at another man’s table, cooking for him, cleaning for him, dressing his kids and stirring his cup. Not my girl, definitely not.’

Nancy licked her lips, stepping closer, frowning up at him. ‘No, Tommy. Maybe not. She just wakes up alone, no idea where her husband is, but gets up and dressed and goes to look after his family anyways.’

‘I don’t remember our wedding,’ he responded plainly. Usually, his blank expression could not bother her. She knew it wasn’t blank, that it didn’t reflect his emotions. But her anger twisted her view. He was looking at her as if he hadn’t a single warm feeling about her. He was looking at her cold.

Sneering, she ignored her slip up and scoffed. ‘I’m going to Arthur’s next. Is that going to be a problem?’

‘Depends,’ he stated, eyes twitching a little.

She could tell that he was about to step over the line, that he knew that she knew too. He was giving her the opportunity not to ask, to save them both from each other. But if he had something to say, she wanted him to say it. She wasn’t afraid of him. It wasn't her responsibility to stop him.

‘Depends on what, Tommy?’

‘Have you fucked Arthur?’ he asked, squeezing his teeth together and the way she lightly flinched, pulling back away from him. Swallowing and straightening, he fixed his coat and cleared his throat. ‘Your opinion of me is about to get worse, twice over. So just brace yourself, sweetheart, yeah?’

She bit at the ragged flesh on the inside of her cheek as he pulled a telegram from his pocket. His sniffed, actually looking a little apprehensive as he held it out to her.

Nancy only gazed at him for a few solid beats, then lightly shook her head.

Tommy didn't watch her walk away. He looked to the ground, tasting the acid in his mouth from his words. Grimacing at himself.

She'd seen the name when she briefly glanced at it, and she had no interest whatsoever in what Solomons had to say to Thomas Shelby.

Chapter Text

‘Miss Nancy.’

‘Isiah – you okay?’ she asked as she stood, lifting the heavy pot from the stove, using the back of her wrist to brush her hair from her forehead.

He grimaced a little. ‘You haven’t seen your Tom have you?’

Her jaw clenched a little, but she swallowed, shook her head. ‘Sorry.’

Isiah smiled in his charming way, hanging halfway in the back door as he did. ‘Ere, shouldn’t you be in the office? Not slaving away over a hot stove.’

She chuckled a little at him. ‘Can’t do any work if the boss isn’t here to give it, Siah. Same goes for you lot, I imagine? Want something to eat?’

‘Nah, thanks though. Can I take Finn out?’

She gave him an unimpressed look.

‘What about Michael?’

Flicking her tea towel at him, she said, ‘Go on home, stop trying to cause trouble in mine.’

He chuckled like a young boy, holding his hands up in defence as he backed away from the door, almost straight into Arthur who gave him a disgruntled look. ‘Sorry, Arthur.’

‘Piss off,’ he muttered, reaching the back door in a few steps. ‘Where is he at then, hey? John said youse had a to do.’

‘John doesn’t know anything,’ Nancy sighed, carrying on moving herself and her work around the kitchen. ‘Polly and Michael are in the lounge. John and the kids will be here soon.’

Arthur caught her elbow, looking at her, really looking at her. His expression curled on itself with worry. ‘Did he say where he was going?’

Nancy held his gaze a moment, breathing heavy, then pulled away. She could hear Katie and Teddy making a fuss on their way towards the back door, and used it as an opportunity to escape questioning. ‘Hello, loves!’

‘Nancy!’

John sent Arthur a light shake of his head when their eyes met, and Arthur scrunched his nose.

Nancy ushered the kids through to the next room, telling them to say hello to Polly, and to bother Michael. ‘Evening.’

John glanced to Arthur, twisting the pick in his mouth. ‘Evening, love. Where’s the fire?’

Nancy forced a chuckle, but continued on cooking. ‘Can someone do drinks?’

‘Polly! Nancy needs a hand,’ Arthur called through, then added, ‘You kids wait there till we’re ready.’

Polly appeared in the doorway, raising a knowing brow to the brothers and pressing her lips together as she observed the girl. Behind her back, she softly pulled the door shut until it clicked. ‘Nancy.’

‘I’ll have wine if we’ve any not gone sour.’

‘Nancy.’

She slapped the spoon on the plate, tapping it harshly to get the thick mashed potato to land, then huffed, finally standing still, looking at Polly expectantly.

‘Let me,’ Polly finally spoke, softly, with care. Then she moved to the girl, holding her hand out for the spoon. When Nancy only looked at her, she tilted her head a little. ‘Come on, my love. Then we’ll have a gin, hey? Sod the wine.’

The room was thick with steam, a pan bubbling over which Polly reached behind her discretely to turn off once Nancy had finally given her the spoon and abandoned the pan on the table.

‘I’ll do drinks then,’ she said, more to herself, and moved to the pantry cupboard behind the back door. There was enough room to just step inside, shelves in front and to the side. She reached for the bottles, twisting them to see what they had. ‘You’re blocking the light.’

John stepped out of the doorway, away, to Arthur. ‘No sign?’

‘Only been a day, he’ll pop up. Tonight, or the morning,’ Arthur murmured back, glancing to the cupboard. ‘Hasn’t done this in a while.’

‘Shut it,’ Polly harshly mouthed to them, then called, ‘Kids! Dinner’s out!’

But it wasn’t that night, nor was it the morning. Nor that night either.

Nancy curled up on the armchair in the lounge. She couldn’t bare the thought of another night in that bed alone, thinking he was going to walk in. But surely, she thought, surely it would be tonight – any moment.

It was a silly thing, really. Before she was with Tommy, when she first was brought to Watery Lane, he’d be gone for days and she’d not see nor hear of him. It was not unlike Thomas Shelby to disappear, only to return a few days later with his pockets full and his belly – as if he’d only stepped out for a moment and then back in.

She hadn’t been back around to John’s. She had been around to Kenny’s to see him though, hoping he’d cheer her up. And he had, for a time. Of course he had. Only now when she saw him it felt like a guilty thing, for not seeing him more, or they spent more time talking about how much time they used to spend together that they didn’t seem to be spending any new time together. It was funny how people worked like that when you’d known them long enough. Maybe some people weren’t for forever that way.

Nancy loathed herself, really. For the way she’d let herself become a woman so effected by a man. She’d handed herself over to him wholeheartedly, her whole self. He held her in his hand and could sway her any way he liked. And it was her fault for letting him.

She knew he’d had the telegram from Solomons. She knew if he wanted his brothers to know that he would have told them.

Her head lifted a little from where she rested it on the arm of the chair. The conversation with John that morning. But he had asked her too if she knew where Tommy might have gone, so he either knew and was trying to find out if she knew too, or Tommy hadn’t told him.

Frowning, she glanced at the clock, hearing a shift upstairs like someone was going to come down.

11:33pm.

Footsteps on the stairs, a frown on Michael’s face. ‘I thought it seemed light down here.’

‘Sorry,’ she murmured, standing. ‘I’m going to bed, it’s – I was just waiting a little while.’

He offered her a soft smile. ‘I can’t wait with you for a bit, if you like?’

Nancy sighed in a light tremble and nodded, taking her seat again, watching him sit on the sofa. ‘What are you up for?’

‘I was coming to grab a drink, I’ll get one on the way back up,’ he said easily. Michael always was easy. He had confidence in conversation, always having something to say, always bright and open. Tommy always seemed to be watching him, in that way he had. The way he used to watch Nancy – the way he still did sometimes. Like he was trying to understand him, to read him better. Trying to find a reason to trust him, or not trust him.

‘Are you excited about the new house?’

Michael scrunched his nose a little. ‘I’ve just got out of the country, now I’m being put back in it.’

Poor Michael, she thought. He’d been dropped from a height into this house too – this world. Polly was trying to keep him away, but he saw it all. Of course he did.

Nancy bundled herself up on the chair tucking her legs under her with a soft smile. ‘I’d love to live in the country.’

‘You can have my room,’ he offered, chuckling. ‘I’ll stay here.’

‘You don’t mean that – this only feels like home because your mum is here.’

Michael nodded, agreeing, but there way a flatness to his smile. ‘Yeah. You’re right – nothing new there though.’

Nancy smiled at him, glancing at the clock again. 11:42pm.

He followed her gaze, and sighed a little. ‘Do you think Tommy is alright?’

She felt her chin wobble. What a stupid thing. ‘It’s silly because he has done this a lot – but never – not when we’ve been – well, together. Not like this. I just feel like something is wrong.’

He shook his head, touching her arm. ‘He’s the scariest man I’ve ever met – if anyone can survive, it’s him.’

Nancy laughed, because she agreed. Tommy was like a mountain – stern and solid, immovable, immense, incredible. Beautiful. Treacherous.

Worth it? When you got to the top?

Maybe. Maybe a mountain. Maybe just a man. A man that other men looked up to - feared. Fell to their knees for, or wished to conquer. He’d conquered many men.

He’d conquered her, but he’d held her up too – dragged her up sometimes, kicking and screaming.

But when she needed it, he’d let her rest. He’d given her a safe place to rest her mind, her body, and he’d shown her beautiful things. Like his laughter, his touch. His heart, the strange on that he had.

But if Tommy really was a mountain, his heart must be the stones down beneath, where he had let few mine. A diamond would be too pure for Tommy. He’d have a rough ruby, edges jagged. Stone the right colour, pumped with blood. But cold to the touch.

Hard, but real. Something you could feel the weight of when you held.

Nancy sucked in a breath, standing out of Michael’s touch, as gentle and well meaning as it was. ‘I’m going to go to bed before I completely lose my mind, Michael. I’m sorry for seeming so utterly pathetic. I try to be better than I am – better than that.’

‘You’re just fine,’ he promised with a kind boyish smile, standing himself as she made way for the stairs. ‘Bet he’s home tomorrow – it would be just like him to show up when we’d all started losing hope. Or that’s what mum said anyways.’

Nancy thought she could hear Polly’s voice in Michael’s when he’d said it, so she smirked at him with affection. ‘Thanks, Michael. Good night.’

‘Night, Nancy. Try not to worry.’

What a silly suggestion.

_______________

‘My girl has nightmares about you, Mr Solomons.’

‘Really? Who’s that then?’

Tommy licked his bottom lip, head tilted back, eyes hooded, voice soft and low. ‘I’d have thought that you would remember her, unless you make a habit of cutting women open.’

Alfie squinted a little, brows bunching ever so in the centre, but his expression stayed firm. ‘Just the one in my recent memory, Mr Shelby.’

Jaw tensing, Tommy tried to read the man. His expression must have darkened, because Solomons' faced his palms out, expression questioning.

‘I am not in possession of a time machine, Mr Shelby - my people are yet to perfect the related science and engineering technology to that particular feat. So, unfortunately, there is no way that I can rectify any trauma your missus has related to our last encounter – unfortunate, as I say, it was.’

‘You talk a lot, Mr Solomons.’

Alfie smirked a little. ‘And you hardly do,’ then he pointed a finger, ‘Your face, as well. Doesn’t say a lot, does it? You’ve done a good job with that, Mr Shelby. I can hardly tell what your thinking.’

The look on his face told Tommy that he was going to tell him exactly what he thought he was thinking anyways. He'd known men like him before. The chatty ones. Some of them had something worth saying, others didn't.

‘See, I think, you’re either here to kill me, or you’re here to see if I’m going to grovel forgiveness for slicing your woman up so that we might become friends, do a little business together, hey? Am I right, Mr Shelby? Have you made your choice?’

Tommy swallowed. He was getting bored of, and at the same time, more wary of Alfie Solomons with every stupid intelligent word that came out of his mouth.

‘What will it be, Mr Shelby? I can tell you want to kill me. It would be easier that way, wouldn’t it? You’d go home a hero, get to keep the girl. If you could kill me and escape this building – these streets – without my men catching you up first, of course.’

He paused, smirking, clocking something, his finger rocking, pointing back and forth between Tommy’s eyes. Alfie Solomons leant across the table, a closed grin pulling on his lips. A cat that had sniffed out the cream.

‘Unless, of course, you could have both. The girl and the business. That would be the winner, wouldn’t it?’ he was nodding then, pleased with himself. ‘That would be just the ticket, Mr Shelby – providing you’ve found yourself a girl that would forgive you doing business with the man that disfigured her. That has caused her a lifetime of shame, embarrassment. I bet she finds it hard looking in a mirror – do you struggle - to look at her?’

Tommy’s nostrils flared, mouth trying to sneer but his control strong enough to keep it at bay so that his chin and his lips twisted minutely, deforming his indifferent expression to one of tortured rage all the same.

Alfie had him, and he leaned closer, to show he had no fear of the man before him. He knew Tommy Shelby wasn’t there to kill him.

‘You will struggle. When she smiles, that scar pulling at her,' he said knowingly, with a little twitch of his finger by the corner of his mouth, acting out the motion. 'The one I put there. I’m sure she’s still lovely, but that light will be gone from the eyes. The magic, you know. Because you’ll have made a deal with her own personal devil, sold your soul to him. Money, power - over your sweet lady's peace?’

Tommy’s jaw rolled, he swallowed again, leaning forward, meeting Alfie’s eyes that glinted with delight at his discovery that Tommy was rotting too from the inside out. That he wasn’t a sane man, he wasn’t a saint. He was power hungry - starving for it.

But Tommy didn’t look angry anymore. That was gone. But the torture stayed. The torture - it dwelled always within Thomas Shelby.

‘My girl already has her devil, Mr Solomons. It is a burden that no man can take from me. That hell is mine.’

Chapter Text

‘Hello, trouble,’ Arthur greeted, opening his door wider to let Nancy through. Matthew waited outside by the car, sending Arthur a nod where he leaned against it, lighting up.

‘I’ve got your washing. Do you want me to go up and hang these?’ she asked, holding the shirts up on their hangers. She glanced over him in his vest and boxers, sighing and unhooking one of the shirts, holding it out to him.

When she got back down, he was finishing the last buttons.

‘You need to open the windows up there, Arthur – well, I’ve done it for you. But remember to close them later, won’t you? Crack them again in the morning,’ she fussed, picking up a few dirty glasses and carrying them through to his small kitchen to set them in the sink. She came back through to the living room, frowning at him where he stood looking ashamed of himself. Hand on her waist, trying not to look too pitying, she asked, ‘You’ve remembered Francis Gregory is going to start coming round to do your cleaning?’

‘Oh, I don’t want to bother no one, Nancy. You know me-’

Taking a withering breath in, and blowing it out in a tremble along with the stench of ash and stale whiskey, Nancy nodded. Eyes closed. ‘I do know you, Arthur. I do. You need to start looking after yourself-’

He lurched at the crack in her voice, moving to pat her arms, then giving in when her forehead touched his chest. Arms wrapped around her, making her feel most precious, he grumbled out, ‘What you worrying about all of us for, hey? You’re doing too much. Too much for nothing.’

‘It’s not for nothing,’ she argued lightly, squeezing her eyes closed. ‘I don’t – I don’t mind doing it, Arthur. But – you aren’t doing well. Are you?’

Arthur pulled back as Nancy did, look into her bright eyes blinking up at him with open and honest concern. He had a lump in his mouth. The air was too thick. Lungs seizing. He could suddenly smell the shit around him - the filled ash trays, the stale booze. He could taste the layer of filth on his tongue, the dust in the air. Voice tight: ‘You’re crackers, my love. I’m just dandy-’

Nancy pulled all the way away from him with a growl of frustration. Moving around him towards the door, she turned to give him a firm look. ‘You Shelby’s are all the same. Can’t admit a single honest thing.’

He called after her as she slammed the door, taking the other half of Matthew’s cigarette and shoving it between her lips as she rounded the car and got into the passenger’s side.

She glared out of the window as they set off to drive around the corner and up to John’s. Matthew simply let her, sniffing when they arrived. ‘Need me to carry anything?’

‘Give a hand with the baskets? The kids will be with Mrs Burns a few doors up, house is empty,’ she said with a sigh, frowning at him in a way of thanks before he even agreed. He smiled in his easy way, giving her a hand inside with the clean washing, and up the stairs. Nancy huffed as she started to unpack the girl’s clean clothes. ‘You can go back if you want! I can walk!’

Matty shook his head, despite being back down the stairs. It didn’t feel right to him to be touching any of John’s things, even being upstairs in his house was strange enough – but worth it to give Nancy a hand. ‘I’ll be out front!’

She made quick work of it, opening all the windows in John’s as well and straightening out the beds before she went downstairs. The breakfast plates were still on the table, but it was otherwise presentable enough. Welcoming enough for them.

She left, locked the door, and grinned at Matthew’s wink. ‘Let’s get lunch, hey?’

He started frowning, shaking his head, opening his mouth to decline when she asked boredly:

‘You get lunch when you’re down the yard, don’t you? I’ll bet someone sends one of the lads up the markets and fetches everyone back a pie – that you take it in turns?’

He pursed his lips a little. ‘Aye, that’d be right, Miss Nancy.’

‘Great, then it’s my turn. Come on,’ she ordered simply, getting into the car with a pleased look on her face. He couldn’t fool her though. Darkness ringed her eyes in puffy lines, her smiles a little duller. She was tired.

He often wondered what she’d be doing inside on those nights he guarded the street. It appeared to be anything but sleeping currently. Rushing around, trying to make all her preparations for the family. Pacing the rest of the time. Smoking a lot too – she’d had more smoke than food in the past few days.

They ate in the car, watching the day go by a whiles. Then, when it was time to go, Nancy said so. Matthew started the engine.

‘You sure you are ready?’ he asked, brows quirked at her.

Taking a heavy breath, she nodded. ‘If I don’t go now, I never will.’

Chapter Text

Tommy grit his teeth a little, swallowing harshly.

Polly was barking and order at one of the lads, pointing to the back of a black van, watching her bedroom furniture be transferred into it from where it was sat on the street. The look on her face turned sourer still when her eyes fell on him.

Nostrils flaring, keen eyes scanning him and the people around them, she approached.

‘Made it home then, did you?’

His toes were wiggling inside of his shoe, beating as fast as his heart. Everything on the inside was thrumming, but the outside was solid, stiff. ‘Polly.’

She scoffed, sneering. But she didn’t have any questions for him. She didn’t want to know. Not a single thing. She looked to Isiah instead, who was carrying one of her suitcases of clothes out. ‘Don’t you dare throw that in the van.’

He frowned as he went, calling over his shoulder, ‘Where’d you want it then?’

‘In the fucking van, Isiah! Just don’t throw it in like you threw my hat boxes,’ she barked, to which the boy grinned, tipping his hat before getting back to work. She looked Tommy up and down again with mild disappointment. ‘A lot has changed since you’ve been gone, Tom.’

‘It’s only been a few days-’

Polly breathed a laugh. ‘You and I both know some of the worst things can happen in a single second, let alone a week and a half.’

He looked at the ground. Was he going to be sick? Surely not. He couldn’t ask her. The question was bubbling in his stomach, turning and rolling, trying to find a way out. Keeping it in was poisoning him.

‘Alright, Tommy!’

He sent a forced grin to Frankie, who patted his back and moved on by, picking up an end table and making way for the van. His eyes settled back on Polly.

‘You going today?’

She was uninterested in his low, fearful voice. It tugged at her heart in a small way, but Polly had bigger fish to fry. If he wanted to scurry back with his tail between his legs, that was just fine by her. But he could just wait for his forgiveness until she was good and ready.

‘Today is the day, yes. Didn’t see a point in waiting.’

He could only chuckle to that, shaking his head. He glanced around. Took a step closer. Bent his head lower towards hers.

Polly twisted her head away from him, rolling her dampening eyes.

‘Where is she, Poll? Where’s my woman, ey?’ he pleaded softly, swallowing slow, blinking slow to look at her through hooded eyes.

The way that Polly gazed to the distance made his skin prickle with a rush of cold.

‘Polly.’

And at the same time:

‘Mum?’

Polly turned away from Tommy swiftly, face lifting at the sight of Michael in the doorway, stepping out to greet her.

Rolling his eyes, Tommy lifted his head, about to demand an answer, but the look of utter hatred on Michael’s face shocked him into silence. He hadn’t been expecting it. He didn’t like to be taken off guard.

‘Welcome home.’

‘Thank you, Michael,’ Tommy said, his response as flat as Michael’s welcome had been. He took a few paces forward to the boy, staring him down. ‘You don’t look too happy to see me.’

Michael moved to open his mouth, but Polly beat him to it.

‘Get in the car, Tommy. You can drive me to the house. I want to arrive before any of these idiots get there and put my dressing table in the pantry,’ she snapped, touching his elbow and pulling him to turn, calling, ‘I’ll see you at home.’

The first twenty minutes were silent.

He was coming to terms with it. That she was gone. Where to though, he wondered. His first thought was Ada, in all honesty. But he’d just seen her and she’d made no mention of it. There was no sign of Nancy from what he’d seen.

Maybe she’d contacted Rosie.

Polly wouldn’t have let her go back to the whore house. He’d burn the whole fucking city down if that were the case.

Kenny probably had her, which was good. It was safe.

There was a brief flash in his mind that she could be at John’s. Lying in bed with Katie or Joey, cuddling them as they slept. Or in the kitchen, standing over a stove, waiting for John to come home from the betting shop.

‘Polly-’

‘If you’re ready to talk, you are ready to listen,’ she declared, blowing out a great cloud of smoke. She watched him, the way his hands readjusted on the wheel, his jaw firming. Polly’s voice was firm: ‘That girl is the best thing that has ever happened to this family. She’s set your brothers up with a cleaner. The kids with a nanny. Paid, regular, both of them. Fixed it in the books. She’s minded Finn more than twice for dossing around the streets like a hooligan. How you could go to that man-’

He chuckled, shaking his head, not a single ounce of humour in him. ‘I’m not talking about this with you.’

‘I didn’t ask you to talk, I asked you to listen-’

‘I know what I’ve done-’

‘You don’t, or you wouldn’t have even dreamed of doing-’

Suddenly, he was roaring, red in the face, tears in his eyes, slamming his hand on the wheel. ‘I know what I’ve fucking done, Polly!’

Her neck snapped forward, looking ahead instead of at him. She wouldn’t give his tantrum the attention, refused to bare witness to it.

He slammed his palm against the wheel again, but couldn’t speak. He couldn’t speak or he might cry.

As they drove through the village in silence, Polly took a soothing breath, murmuring, ‘She didn’t know when you’d come back – if you’d come back. The rest is hers to say.’

Eyes filling, his rose his gaze to the skies as they drew up outside the house. As the engine cut out, he was looking down at his hands. Polly got out of the car, glancing back at him.

‘Come on, love,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ve tea or gin.’

Tommy tipped his head back against the head rest, eyes blown wide to the ceiling. He took a few fast breaths, then one deep and slow. Then, he sniffed, nodded, wiped his eyes and climbed out of the car.

At the sound of the door closing, Jamie looked up over the back fence with a gasp, launching himself in through the back door and straight into Tommy’s arms where they met in the kitchen. ‘Uncle Tom! Have you seen Polly’s new house? Isn’t it great? There is a garden! Come on!’

Tommy ruffled his hair, not daring himself to speak. Polly put a soothing hand on his shoulder, watching the boy run out the door.

‘Come on,’ she encouraged as she set down her bag on the counter.

Blinking his welled eyes, he nodded, swallowing down another lump in his throat. He deserved this, to have to be tortured by the joy of children, of a new home for Polly, while he had lost everything.

His lungs emptied in one swift breath.

Further down the garden, talking to John, a wide grin on her face, was his girl. His Nancy.

Bare feet in the grass. White dress moving with the gentle breeze. Hair too, less when she shoved it behind her ears, showing off that beautiful face.

She was talking but he couldn’t hear her. Couldn’t hear anything.

She looked so bright. She looked like an angel. Golden hair. Pink lips. Pink cheek. The one he could see was unscarred. Pure. Untouched.

He hadn’t seen her in the sun for a while, in the grass, no dirty red brick or smoke around them.

John smirked at her, fresh shaven, white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, light grey trousers. Bright. As he chuckled, he turned his head to check on Katie where she ran past in a flurry. His eyes caught on Tommy, and he grinned wider, nodding in greeting.

Nancy turned to him then, to face him.

In his black suit, bruised and beaten. Like he was haunting heaven.

He could see the scar now, as slight as it seemed nowadays. But it made him cough through a whimper. A tear of horror, disgust, upset, pain, spilling over. She'd looked so pure - just for a flicker of time. Smiling at John, instead of him. No scar, no sadness. A perfect face, a perfect smile. Untouched, unscathed. Until she'd looked at him. Then suddenly, it was all there again.

He walked into the house and upstairs, bracing himself against the bathroom sink, accidentally meeting his own eye in the mirror and looking away with a sneer.

But there, in the reflection, he could see through the open bedroom door across the hallway. On the door of the wardrobe hung the silk night gown he’d bought her, all that time ago.

The walk into the bedroom was a slow, torturous ten paces.

His hand shook as he reached for the wardrobe handle, as if he were a boy scared of a ghost in the cupboard.

Nancy found him that way, staring at her dresses on their hangers, shoulders stiff, finger twitching at his side, tiny quick breaths just audible above the muffled sounds of the children’s play. The sound of vans pulling up outside.

‘Tommy?’

Chapter Text

It wasn’t like Tommy to panic, not since the war. Not in the way that made a man's chest tight, his mind foggy. When Nancy panicked, she shook. She cried, she cowered.

But Tommy was quiet, stretching an arm out and gripping the night gown, knuckles against the wood through the silk. His forehead followed, pressing hard on the door of the wardrobe, keeping him upright as he sucked in a breath – one, then two. A shuddering third.

‘Tom-’

Nancy flinched away, removing the hand she’d placed on his back as he lifted a hand in firm dismissal, head shaking.

‘Wait,’ he gasped. ‘Just wait.’

His eyes were closed, the scent of her overwhelming from the gown he’d thrust his head against, that his hands gripped tightly in fists.

The shaking started then, racking through his body to his arms, making him suck in deeply and thrust himself away from the door, pacing a few times in front of where she’d sat on the edge of the bed. He put the fists at his temples, mostly to block the view of her, even though he still had his eyes squeezed closed.

She didn’t speak, not even when he finally sat beside her, blowing air from his lungs, elbows on his knees, fingers spread in his hair.

But then, he started to laugh. Just a little under his breath first, in short, sharp splutters. Then it was a chuckle, low and rumbling, while he rubbed his hands into his eyes and around his face. Shaking his head.

‘Tommy…’

‘You’re never going to stay, are you? Stay where I put you – where I want you?’

It wasn’t really a question, so she didn’t give an answer.

‘God,’ Tommy murmured, his eyes finally open, fixed on the wall in front of him, head shaking side to side, a sad, ironic kind of smile on his face. ‘I had it all for a minute there, Nancy, didn’t I?’

‘You couldn’t have expected me to be waiting when you got back, Tommy.’

‘It wasn’t an expectation – it never is with you. It’s hoping. Hoping you’ll be there when I wake up,’ he murmured, rolling his gaze towards her, tilting his head in a frown. ‘Hoping you’ll keep loving me despite everything I do that hurts you.’

Nancy’s own frown was dark. Disappointment radiated off her. ‘And here I’ve been hoping you’d stop hurting me, so I might not be ashamed of loving you, Tommy.’

A breath broke out from between his lips as if in disbelief. But he did believe her, more than he ever had. Nancy was all hope. She always had been. Hope and a heartbeat, that was all the girl needed to get by.

The realisation came that she’d probably survive alone on those – if only he’d let her.

He relaxed his hands, the ones that had been clenched in fists for so long on his knees. At his sides. On her.

He relaxed his jaw, that had been tight and grinding, letting a heavy breath fall out, the parts of him he kept so deep inside, and then some.

Distantly, they could hear the children. Polly’s muffled yell. John’s laughter. Arthur’s greeting. Michael’s offer of a drink. Another van rolling up outside. The world still turning.

‘It’s not right,’ Tommy murmured, finally. He swallowed. ‘Not right you being up here with me.’

He raised his eyes to her, catching on the scar again. That side of her face always presented to him. At the dinner table at home. In bed, laying gazing up at the ceiling while he was gazing at her. In the garden, when she’d turned to face him. Now, the marred side faced to him.

Like it was a rot, from the very presence of him at her side. From his eyes on her. Would it spread? Spread across her face? Across her body? Would she be left disfigured by him? Deformed? Completely unrecognisable? Ruined for the world and any other man.

Sick – sick that his heart flourished a little at the thought.

‘Are you okay?’ Nancy asked softly – soft, as she most often was. ‘The bruises, I mean.’

His brow furrowed, and he nodded, a lump in his throat. He couldn’t look at her. Coward. ‘Yes. Fine – fine.’

Nancy took a breath and rolled her lips together, ready to speak, but he did first.

‘You’re staying here.’

She nodded when he looked up, his face drawn, serious. He only blinked.

‘For how long?’

It took her a moment, but answered: ‘I don’t know. I just knew I couldn’t stay there. That house, Tommy – that place. Too much has happened. I need to start again. If I could afford to do it alone I would have, but I can’t, and Polly wouldn’t hear of it. I knew you wouldn’t either.’

His brow flickered in anger at the mere thought of it.

Swallowing, she set a timid hand on his knee. She waited for him to look at her, then spoke clear and firm. ‘I need us to start again too. I love you, Tommy. And I know you love me. But you don’t love the way that I want to be loved. Can you see that?’

‘All I can see is you, Nancy,’ he confessed in a murmur. His expression was flat, but his tone was accepting. ‘All you, my girl.’

Nancy shook her head. Brow twitching in distress, but eyes firm. Honest. ‘I can’t be your girl right now, Tommy.’

Brows lifting in shock at the pain that burnt in his chest, he looked away with wide, haunted eyes. The fifty mile stare, reaching, searching for a small slither of hope somewhere in him that he might be able to change her mind. That things might be alright. That it wouldn’t tear him apart.

Her hand had lifted away. He didn’t know when. He was clearing his throat, almost spluttering. What was happening? Ears ringing. Sick to his stomach.

‘I’ll – I’ll arrange some money. Until you’re on your feet.’

‘No, Tommy.’

There she was, soft voice, soft hand on him again, on his hand. So sweet. So kind. So gentle in the way she was thrusting the knife in his chest.

‘No, that would just be like before.’

He swallowed, nodding, feeling her palm against his as he twisted his hand to hold hers. But his skin felt rough, dry, cold. He couldn’t feel her properly. Couldn’t feel her warmth. He looked at their hands, to make sure he was holding it right. He was. He was.

But it wasn’t right. Because she was trying to pull away, as politely as she could. And she wasn’t burning for him. Their hands didn’t connect their souls. The days of shy brushes of the finger tips were gone, of firm grips in the throws of passion.

‘Alright, Nancy. Alright,’ he muttered, nodding, squeezing his eyes and opening. His vision was dull. ‘Can I see you?’

‘Of course – just not… I think it would be for the best if you didn’t for a while. If I didn’t see you.’

He was already nodding. He needed out. He needed to take the fucking tie off.

She watched him tear at the thing, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt as if it were strangling him. But then, shoving it in his pocket, he straightened his spine. He used one hand to wipe over his mouth. He sniffed. Blinked harsh, opening his eyes wide.

Piece by piece, he collected himself.

Then, he glanced to her, just once, then away, looking in the direction, but not at her. ‘Best you go down. I’ll be there soon. I won’t stay long.’

It was lucky, she thought, as she left the room and made her way down the bare staircase, that she’d already done the worst of her grieving curled into Polly’s side on the sofa, a bottle of gin cuddling between them.

She moved through the house lightly, pulling a large smile for the kids as they noted her entering the garden. Everyone was bright. The birds were singing. The lads had stripped off their jackets, their ties. Rolled up their sleeves.

Arthur kissed her cheek at the back door, handing her a glass of wine, and she thanked him, moving towards an empty seat between Michael and Joey.

Tommy was a bad omen, stood above them all, watching from the back window.

He watched John twirl Katie around the garden, flying her through the air to land in Michael’s lap, where the little girl grinned and twittered. Then John moved to Joey, lifting her up, sitting her on his knee, kissing her cheek and squeezing her to him though she fussed to get away.

A roll of laughter sang up to Tommy as Teddy appeared, stick as a sword, and smacked John on the back of the head so that he’d release the stolen princess.

John grinned though, watching Joey run off with her brothers as he rubbed the back of his head, looking across to Nancy, beginning to laugh brightly.

Of course he was bright, looking at her. She was the sun, blaring hot on them all. Casting a yellow glow.

She leaned over, pushing his head to tilt down as she checked him, chuckling as she did, her wine in her other hand. Tommy watched her lips form a teasing remark, how he’d survive it. How he’d be just fine.

John rubbed over the small bump at the back of his head as Nancy pulled back, and he glanced at her.

She was looking forward to Polly, grinning at whatever witty comment she was making. Her cheek was flushed a little from the wine, her eyes bright, a little glassy.

She looked different, somehow. Out here, in all the grass and the flowers and the summer. Grinning down at Katie, who appeared to her with a dandelion, presenting it like a great golden gift. Nancy thanked her most graciously.

John reached out, beckoning her to give him it. Then, while she faced him, he placed his cigarette between his lips and set finger tips to the right side of her jaw. On the other side, where the scar shone silver to him in the light, he tucked her hair back behind her ear, squinting one eye at the smoke that swirled from his cigarette as he carefully placed the weed there.

He looked smug, inhaling properly and plucking it from his lips as he leaned back in his seat, sending her a wink as she rolled her eyes.

Katie called her beautiful, and enforced Michael to clapping, which made Arthur join in to please her further.

John smiled in gentle content, folding his arms across his chest and smoking lazily as the family buzzed about him and the hot sun warmed him.

As he exhaled, he watched the smoke rise and dissipate, revealing the figure in the top window.

Tommy’s face gave nothing away. He only watched.

It was all he could do. Watch and hope.

Chapter Text

Nancy was vaguely aware of the sound of someone coming into the house. She was sat in the garden, the back door open beside her, the sun on her face and a cigarette burning out between her fingers.

Footsteps in the kitchen, a pause. A breath of a chuckle. ‘Alright there?’

She hummed in response.

‘Any dinner?’

Nancy scrunched up her face. ‘It’s my day off, Michael.’

He laughed when she batted away his hand from ruffling her hair. ‘Day off from work, not from feeding me, surely?’

‘Don’t you have a mother somewhere around here?’ she asked, twisting to squint at him on the back step where he was lighting up, his legs all stretched out and sleeves rolled up.

Michael smirked. ‘She’s staying over in the city. Say’s Arthur needs her.’

Nancy knew that meant that Michael had been sent home, so she sent him a pitying look. ‘Is Arthur okay?’

He shrugged. ‘Not like I’m allowed in many family conversations, is it?’

‘If it makes you feel any better, Polly isn’t usually in them anymore either. Or me.’

It had been two months. She’d seen John and Arthur plenty, a good handful of times, or more. Tommy, never. No one really mentioned him either. It was equal parts refreshing and upsetting. It was as if he were a ghost after all.

‘Yes, but that is by choice, Nance. I’m cast out like-’

‘Shall we have a drink?’ she offered abruptly. Listening to Michael whine about being left out from “family business” was tiresome. She gave in every now and then, let him have his rant.

Wincing, he nodded an apologised. Nancy simply smiled as he moved through to the kitchen, calling, ‘Wine or whiskey? Or gin?’

‘Wine, please.’

The pair of them shared a little quiet, and an hour later they shared a plate of bread and cheese and some cut up apples from the neighbours tree. Nancy had made swift friends in the neighbourhood, with picking up hours in the only pub for miles.

It was a little mundane, which is why she made the most of it. The bar was immaculate, the back room too, and anyone who’d nipped in for even a minute knew Nancy Owen and her beaming smile.

Life was slow, and beautiful. She walked home most nights and didn’t feel worried about it. Sometimes she tried different paths just to see the views, or where they’d lead. Not an ounce of trouble was to be had in the countryside. Not a cap in sight.

The next day she worked the day shift, serving pints to fellas on their lunch breaks who came in for a hot meal and a pretty smile. The days were slow, the evenings were the same faces over and over, except for Fridays, where the townsmen came together. They were merry, but it was nothing like the Garrison.

She had the odd fella giving it a go, but only in good humour. Most of the men were married, and the lads were all hard workers, the village too small for any of them to cause any trouble.

‘Nancy!’

She finished pouring the pint, putting it in front of Mr Haig, who came for a pint the exact same time every day and barely said a word.

She went through to the kitchen, picking up the two plates, sending Martha, the cook, a broad grin.

‘There’s two more coming,’ Martha told her, looking up at the clock, ‘Then if Stan shows his face you’ll be off home.’

‘Unlikely,’ Nancy stated with a smirk, pushing backwards out the door and letting out a yelp when she knocked straight into the forementioned. ‘Sorry, Stan. Hello.’

‘Nancy,’ he said, breathing heavy. ‘Am I on time?’

She walked backwards, nodding at him, before spinning and moving to deliver her plates. ‘There you go, loves.’

The men gave their thanks, digging in and asking for two more pints. She noted Stan bringing out the next two plates, so she poured the drinks as quick as she could and set them down.

‘Here, get one for yourself.’

‘Thank you, Mr Kinrade,’ she said gladly to the farmer, picking up the extra money and taking herself back behind the bar to pour a half a pint.

Stan found her sat at the bar, sipping with her eyes closed, humming in content. He chuckled. ‘Hit the spot?’

Nancy rolled her eyes, flushing a little. ‘It’s not much like a lady to be having a lager in the middle of a Thursday night, hey?’

He shrugged. ‘You’re a city girl. Who knows what kinds of things you’ve got up to.’

She sent him a scolding look but took another sip. ‘How is the baby?’

‘A bloody nightmare?’ he offered, but grinned. ‘She doesn’t sleep. Are they supposed to?’

‘She will eventually,’ she promised with a chuckle. ‘If Thea needs anything, I’m pretty handy with kids.’

He thanked her, moving away to serve a customer. Nancy finished her drink and moved over to the coat hooks, picking up her bag and slinging it onto her shoulder. She bid Stan goodbye, saying she’d see him tomorrow, and set out, calling goodbyes over her shoulder on her way.

It was a hot summer, something that could properly be enjoyed out in the country. She took the long way home.

It had been an age since she felt like she was being followed. She had gotten so used to it in Birmingham that she’d thought she’d forgotten the feeling all together, but suddenly it struck her.

Glancing around, she saw no one on the road behind, no one on the path to the left. And she made it home without seeing anyone out of the ordinary.

‘Oh good, take this,’ Polly greeted her, shoving an oven glove into her had and gesturing towards the open oven. ‘The chicken will be dry as a nun’s knickers.’

Rolling her eyes, she pulled the bird out and set it on the stove. ‘Looks fine. I’m going to change.’

Polly grinned at the peck on her cheek, humming to herself as she plated up. Polly was a whole new breed. Mrs Grey meant something different here. Something, by meaning nothing. She went into shops and paid the same as everyone else. The women all smiled at her. The men enjoyed her smiles in the polite way, tipping their hats and opening doors. She was brighter. Lighter.

Once the three of them were around the table and well into their meals, Nancy asked, ‘How was Arthur?’

Polly frowned, focusing on her plate. ‘Arthur has gotten himself in a bad way. The war comes back to him sometimes.’

Nancy felt a tug at her heart. ‘He should come stay with us for a few days. He could have my bed, I’d share with you.’

Polly gave her a gentle smile of thanks, but shook her head. ‘I love that man dearly, but he’s not bringing his darkness here. One night in that pub and he’d ruin us.’

‘You working tomorrow?’ Michael interrupted, and Nancy nodded. ‘I’ll come at eleven, walk you back.’

‘You don’t have to,’ she said, but secretly was thankful. Friday nights were the busiest, and the drunkest. She felt safe, but with Michael there, even safer.

He simply smiled.

__________

‘Sorry,’ Stan blurted, chuckling as Nancy glared, lifting her full hands away from where he’d nearly swerved right into her.

‘You should pour them on him next time, lass,’ the old fella at the bar said as she set down the drinks.

‘He’d only cry about it – not worth the hassle,’ she whispered with a wink, giving him and his friend a good chuckle.

‘Here come the farm hands,’ Stan warned as she came to put her money in the till.

‘They’re not so bad,’ she said with a shrug.

‘They’ve been drinking since lunch time in Cedric’s back field,’ he told her. ‘Last time that happened they ended up scrapping from one side of town to the other.’

Rolling her eyes, she painted on a smile and picked up a pint glass. ‘Right, lads, what will it be?’

Ten pints poured and two whiskeys, Nancy and Stan leaned on the back bar beside each other, sighing tiredly.

‘Two hours to go.’

She glanced at the clock then out to the room. It was busy. But nothing like Birmingham. No one was in a suit. No one stood above the others. It was level ground here. And no one had snow – she doubted the likes of these even knew what it was.

Her mind drifted to memories, her stood at the bar. The smells. The sights. Tommy’s hand at her waist.

She stood straight. ‘I’ll go get some glasses in.’

Stan nodded, picking up a cloth and starting to make himself busy too.

‘Thanks, fellas,’ Nancy murmured as she leaned around a table of old men to get their glasses. The next table stacked theirs for her. She smiled beautifully at them, full of thanks.

It was the next table that she was met with trouble.

A hand on her wrist, stopping her picking up the glass she was reaching for.

‘It’s Nancy, isn’t it?’

She pulled her arm from him, looking to the boy sat by her where she’d slotted between two stools to reach the table. He was all sleepy eyed and red in the face. Stupidly drunk. ‘Yes, Ian. We’ve met.’

He chuckled, reaching out and holding her elbow. She pulled away, and he sat up.

‘We have been wondering,’ he said, reaching for her again. He was just being over friendly, she knew. Just forgotten himself. Didn’t realise how uncomfortable he was making her. If she was drunk as well she probably wouldn’t even notice he was touching her at all. ‘We don’t want to upset you – or anything like that.’

‘Then you best keep your wondering to yourself, Ian, what do you think, hey?’ she asked, giving her arm a twist. He was looking at her face. Her scar. She knew what he was going to ask. People looked at it all the time. But no one had asked. Not yet. She glanced around the table, smirking a little at his chuckling friends, trying to get them on side, hoping one of them would say something.

Ian was frowning hard. She wondered if he could even see her at all, the way his eyes rolled in his head. ‘Hey – don’t be rude to me, love. I was only asking a fucking question.’

‘I wasn’t being rude-’

‘No, no, you were. You’ve got all these arseholes laughing at me,’ he said, with an exaggerated gesture around the table. Nancy stepped back, but he grabbed her again, turning to point up at her with his free hand. ‘I only wanted to ask you a fucking question-’

‘I suggest you get your dirty fucking hands off her, farmer, before I put mine on you.’

Nancy’s blood ran cold, as did Ian’s friends by the looks of them. Ian sneered at Frankie, who opened his blazer enough to show his gun.

Released, Nancy stepped back and away, so far away that she put herself on the other side of the bar and started putting away the glasses Stan was cleaning. Stealing a few glances across the room, she watched Frankie shaking hands with one of the other farm lads, who took Ian out the door and into the night.

Frankie approached the bar, looking a little timid.

‘Alright mate?’ Stan asked, looking him over, glancing back to where Frankie had his eyes trained on Nancy.

‘Nancy.’

She closed her eyes a moment, then made her way over, giving Stan a thankful look. He sent a final glance to Frankie before moving away, ears trained on the conversation all the same.

Frankie glanced at him and back to Nancy, who was glaring, waiting. ‘He should be getting the glasses in, not you.’

‘Why are you here?’

He tilted his head at her, almost in pity. ‘I go home in the morning, swap cars with Si. He’ll come through tomorrow afternoon. Comes home Wednesday.’

‘And who does he swap with?’

Frankie shrugged, then frowned at her sigh. ‘You didn’t expect him to let you go that easy, did you?’

Scoffing, Nancy ignored her welling eyes, rolling them.

‘The fella couldn’t sleep when you were two streets over in the same city without one of us watching your flat, you really think he was getting any rest those first few weeks with you gone before he sent any of us out here?’

‘And how much sleep did I get while he was swanning about London, ey, Frankie? Wish I had a band of merry arseholes to do my bidding,’ she snapped, glaring even harder when he smirked a little.

‘And what would you have us do, Nance? Your band of merry arseholes?’

She stared at him a while, plain and cold. She turned away from him, walking back up the other side of the bar. ‘Fuck off back to Birmingham.’

‘Will do – in the morning,’ he said, pulling out his cap and setting it on his head. When she glanced back, he tipped his hat at her, sending her the same friendly smile he always had. ‘Miss Owen.’

‘Who the bloody hell was that?’ Stan asked once the pub door closed. ‘An old sweetheart?’

‘A friend of a friend,’ she murmured, gazing at the door.

A small part of her – or a big part, if she was being honest – had been worried that Tommy had quite easily forgotten all about her.

She felt betrayed, and a little uncomfortable, with the fact that he still had the lads shadowing her. That they’d been doing it for over a month without her knowing. But was it so wrong to feel a little flattered? A little loved?

A fire flickered in her belly, and she sighed at herself. When Michael arrived to walk her home, she didn’t tell him about Ian, or about Frankie.

He happily chatted about his day working away. He was bookkeeping in the city, enjoying it too. She suspected some of his stories were lies. The last time John had visited they’d gone into the kitchen alone together and had a conversation while the rest of them stayed outside. Arthur had started winking at him too.

It wasn’t Nancy’s place. And Polly was so happy. She wasn’t going to have anything to do with spoiling that.

She was no longer the keeper of secrets. Only her own, and that was more than enough to carry.

Chapter Text

Lizzie fixed her skit, shuffling around her desk to take her seat. She was fighting half a hangover and the general headache that came with being Tommy Shelby’s secretary – or being around him at all. She glanced to his door, seeing no movement behind it. Out. As was usual.

Suddenly, the entry door opened, and Tommy stalked through, barely sparing her a glance. ‘Morning, Lizzie.’

She leapt up, paper in hand with her notes on. ‘Wait-’

He span in the doorway, looking down at her with that expectant look on her face, already irritated with the day. Glancing at the notes, he lifted his chin in a gesture for her to follow.

She licked her lips as she did, watching him fix a drink and take out a cigarette. He didn’t offer her one. He never did. He did turn as he put the lid back on the whiskey though, raising a brow.

‘Go on, then. Time is ticking, Lizzie.’

She took a steadying breath, then nodded, more to herself than to him. ‘You weren’t here yesterday, you missed some-’

He scrunched his nose up, moving around the desk and to his seat. ‘Who?’

‘Ah – J. Douglas, Leon T. Arthur came round looking for you twice. Then we had Frankie – was outside the door this morning-’

Tommy was suddenly awake, alert. ‘What did Frankie want?’

‘He said, I quote, “Nothing big, lass. She’s alright. Tell him she’s alright. I’ll catch him later.”’

He blew a long heavy sigh out of his nose, enough to unnerve anyone. ‘Just leave the note.’

It was hard with Tommy not to feel like it was you who’d disappointed him. But she was getting used to him. She knew it was the world that disappointed Tommy. If she knew him better, she’d know it was himself too.

With a little nod, she left him alone with the note, which he barely spared a glance.

In a village outside of Birmingham, Polly tightened her dressing gown around her waist and flicked off her ash into the cigarette tray on the side table that was tucked amongst trinkets and knickknacks.

Curling up, her legs beneath her on the armchair, she looked out at the green world passing by and smile in content. The milk man walked by and she offered him a cat like smile, a merry little wave. What a quiet little life she had.

She wished Ada was with her. Ada and the baby in the garden, not the smoky streets of London. Freddie, she often decided, could come too. She wished her own children were children still. Both alive and well and innocent.

Michael would be an excellent brother. He’d become one of sorts to Nancy. An adopted sister – an adopted daughter.

She frowned a little at the thought. Nancy, Nancy. It seemed bland for the girl to end up working in a pub. There was happiness to be found in a simple life. But it didn’t sit right.

If Polly was being entirely honest, this life was nice for now. For a while pretending. But she knew it wasn’t her heart, or her soul. The peace never lasted for her. Wouldn’t – couldn’t. It just wasn’t the way.

She jolted when a car pulled up outside, squinting to see who was behind the wheel. When Matthew got out, she took a steadying breath and rushed to the door before he could knock on it.

He smirked a little at her morning appearance. ‘Morning, Pol.’

She glared. ‘What does he want?’

Matthew sighed a little, taking off his cap. ‘It’s not Tommy, Pol. Just – I wanted to talk to Nancy. Thought she’d be up first, see.’

‘She worked late last night,’ she informed him, raising a brow, looking him over. ‘You’re not here to propose are you?’

‘Why, do you think I’d have chance at a yes?’ he asked with a little smirk as she let him in the house.

‘No, I just know you’re soft on her,’ she informed him flatly, moving back to her seat and fixing her gown to make sure she was covered up. She lite another cigarette, watching him hang up his jacket.

Matty chuckled. ‘Aye, well, I’ll get in line, shall I?’

A soft smile pulled on Polly’s lips and she let it, inhaling deeply and blowing out before she prompted, ‘Go on then, tell me what’s happening. Hardly anything happens around here.’

He sighed, looking a little stressed. ‘Tommy’s been having the boys watch over the house – watch over her, you too. Frankie made himself known on Friday. He fessed up to Tom, who said it’s alright, like. But I – well, Pol,’ he laughed a little at himself, ‘I think it’s about time I stepped in.’

She groaned. ‘Oh god, you are going to propose, aren’t you?’

‘To who?’

Matthew looked up, stood up, looking up to Nancy where she stepped away from the stairs and into the room, a bright grin on her face. ‘Morning, Nancy.’

She tried to catch Polly’s eye, but she wouldn’t look, only glared harshly at Matthew, who ignored her thoroughly and gestured to the front door.

‘Will you take a walk?’

Polly glanced to her, reading her reaction, which was hesitant. But kind, always kind. The pair of them left, and Polly watched Matthew walk her down the lane towards the road.

‘Did he send you?’

Matthew gave a gentle look, which was hard because he wasn’t always the most gentle looking fella. ‘Course he did, pet. I told Polly I'd come on my own - was scared she'd chase me out if she knew I was here for Tom.’

Nancy nodded, continuing their walk.

‘He wants to see you – didn’t want to send a note. Didn’t want to just show up. I offered to ask very politely and with no pressure either way.’

She chuckled a little in disbelief. ‘You mean to tell me that Thomas Shelby was having a deep and meaningful with you, ending in you suggesting coming to formally ask if he is allowed to come see me?’

He was grinning. ‘Well, it that’s not quite how it was.’ He gave her a light nod. ‘You’re still smiling though, so you can’t quite hate the idea.’

They were quiet a little whiles as they walked in a loop, passing by the house again, Polly having moved away from the window at least.

‘He can come see his family any time,’ Nancy finally answered. Although, admittedly, it wasn’t really an answer at all.

‘There’s a thing about – if you love something, let it go, isn’t there?’

Nancy squinted at Matthew, adding a smirk for good measure. ‘That’s very poetic for a Blinder.’

Hand on his chest, Matty winked. ‘I’m soft at heart, Nance. You must have known that by now.’

Pulling his hand from his chest, chuckling lightly, she linked their arms and asked, ‘You got some money on you? Good. You can buy me breakfast.’

Polly gaped out of the top window as she watched Matty escort Nancy to the passenger side of the car, opening the door for her and guiding her in. ‘Fucking hell!’

‘Mum?’

Michael came to the doorway in his boxers and vest, padding in bare feet to the window, watching the car pull away. ‘Was that one of the lads?’

Polly fixed him with a snarl. ‘One of the lads – don’t you “the lads” me! You shouldn’t know any of the lads as is.’

She was quickly doing up the last buttons of her dress, and moved to the mirror to shove some pins in. Michael was sighing and murmuring somewhere in the background, but she ignored him, picking up her summer hat and shoving him towards his room.

‘Just shut up and get dressed, will you?’ she barked, then was half way down the stairs with her lipstick uncapped when she called, ‘Michael?’

Half traumatized from her shouting, he appeared again with a huff, brows half way up his forehead. ‘What?’

‘You wouldn’t happen to know where your cousin has rented out a room for the lads in the village would you?’

Michael remained frozen for a moment, but boy nor man could last long under the stare of Polly Grey. He sighed, nodding. ‘The flat above the butchers.’

‘Wonderful. Chop chop!’

____________

The Garrison had been fixed up quickly, and Nancy admired the woodwork inside, the way that the floor no longer stuck under foot, that there was little to no smell of stale alcohol and cigarettes. It didn’t stop her from lighting one up as she moved around the room.

It was almost as if the bomb had burned away all of the bad, left them to start fresh.

She moved into the back room, finding no crates of half nibbled smokes or smuggled contraband. Only drink, all with the right labels on the boxes and everything. The only one open was a delivery of whiskey, two bottles pulled out.

She heard the door in the main bar opened and froze a moment before moving to the swinging door of the storage room. She pushed lightly, not revealing herself.

Tommy stepped away from the main entrance, glancing swiftly around the space, missing her where she half hid. She hadn’t meant to hide. But seeing him without him knowing she could was almost like seeing a wild animal in the flesh. Things she’d only really read about – lions, or bears. A silky black panther.

His face flickered in disappointment, then fell into something else. Acceptance, understanding. Agreement - that it was probably better that she wasn't there.

Nancy managed to take a breath, to push out into the space behind the bar. Then, stupidly, when his dark eyes flashed to her, she asked, ‘What can I get for you, sir?’

Air poured from his open mouth, his lips daring to twitch at the corners. But he wouldn’t smile, not yet. Like a man stumbling from a fight, he stepped over to the bar as if his feet weighed a ton each, setting his hands on the woodwork.

‘Whiskey.’

Tommy’s voice was velvet smooth as it had always been, his hand large, veins on the back. Eyes bright blue.

Only now, he wasn’t Thomas Shelby, infamous gangster. Not the man with blades in his cap, or the one who’d marched into the brothel all those nights ago. He was still the same in flesh and blood. Even his spirit hadn’t changed so much – Nancy just knew it now.

The man before her didn’t look different because he had changed. He looked exactly the same as he always had, because she’d changed enough and grown enough from that frightened little girl who first grabbed him on the street to see him truly.

Not with the tinted glasses of fear, or of worship.

Clearly, from one adult to another.

She had a safe home now, a job, enough money to get by and enough about her to make friends wherever she went. She’d known men. Known hurt. Been strong enough to walk away from hurt and love all the same.

No. Thomas Shelby wasn’t changed. It was never about her changing him. Nancy Owen’s story was never about Thomas Shelby. And his was never about her.

They weren’t connected, mind body and soul. Neither of them burst into flames during their time apart. They were two people. Two people not linked together. Separate.

By tearing away from him she’d learned to walk alone, no one propping her up.

She’d not had to prop anyone up either. No kids. No sisters. No brothers. No man. Granted, she hadn’t seen much of the big bad world. But she’d survived a small part of it without Thomas Shelby.

She smiled softly, taking herself to the back room and bringing out one of the bottles. Tommy followed her every move, watching her uncork it, glance around looking for something.

‘No glasses till tomorrow morning,’ he murmured, nodding in thanks when she simply set the bottle down in front of him. He took a drink, keeping hooded eyes on her as he tipped his head back. Then, sliding the bottle over the bar, he asked, ‘How are you?’

‘A little tired. I worked late last night – or late for the country. Around half eleven for bed,’ she shared easily, admiring him. She knew she shouldn’t say so, so she didn’t, but he looked beautiful to her. He always had. Sometimes so much that he was hard to look at. ‘How are you?’

Eyes flitting between hers, he allowed himself a small smile, nodding. ‘Alright. Went to see Curly last night, one of the cats got ran over. We buried it by the canal.’

Swallowing a mouthful of whiskey, she frowned. ‘Poor Curly.’

‘Poor cat,’ he reasoned lightly, a tilt to his head.

Maybe it was the boundary she’d set between them. The way she’d put down her foot. But he seemed younger to her. Smaller. Not in a way that left them unequal, but that evened them out.

She wasn’t a shiny gem any more in the hand of a god, being held up above the rest of the world. She was just a person. And so was he.

‘I’m not angry – about the lads being in the village. I know you have people watching Ada. It’s much the same thing,’ she spoke softly.

His jaw clicked a little, bulging at the corners. ‘You speak to her, then?’

‘We write,’ she confirmed. ‘She’s my best friend.’

‘Poor Curly,’ he returned, and his lips pursed as he tried to hold back a grin. But she broke, breathing a light laugh, even if she did roll her eyes at him.

Nancy lowered her gaze, hiding her smile.

‘Hey now, don’t hide that face from me. I’ve been without it for long enough to starve a man,’ he murmured, making her flush, but look back at him. He swallowed, licked his lips. ‘I was going to apologise to you – for having the boys keep an eye out. Make sure I hadn’t done the impossible and made everything even worse.’

She shook her head. ‘If I had seen you that night, I’d have probably shouted at you. But time to think changes perspectives, doesn’t it?’

Shame on his face, Tommy nodded, then reached for the bottle, taking another drink. They held each other’s gazes for a long while, sizing each other up, until she’d finished her sip and Tommy was reaching into his pocket for his cigarette case. He tapped two out, fishing in his pocket for a light.

But with the matches, came a piece of paper. He’d heard it crinkling in his hand. He could have chosen to leave it hidden, but instead he pulled it out, lighting up both smokes and handing her one.

Nancy inhaled delicately, careful to blow out in a steady stream instead of huffing out and sucking back in for another drag, revealing her desperation for something to calm her nerves.

Tommy carefully laid the paper on the bar, unfolding, rolling it out, and flattening it with both hands. Cigarette between his fingers, he squinted at the smoke that swirled up to his eyes as he placed it between his lips and turned the image towards her.

Plucking the fag from his mouth, he tapped his index finger to the picture. ‘Been carrying you around with me for a while now.’

The paper doll that Katie and Joey had drawn in her likeness, smiling up at her, creases and crinkles marring her skin, her dress, her hair. Nancy smiled, flipping the image to show the side that wore the scar.

‘Was it foolish of me, to not want to throw it away?’ Tommy asked, low and rough, looking at the doll instead of at her.

Nancy looked at it too, blinking softly, shaking her head. ‘Not if you felt like you needed to keep it.’

He released a shaking, suffering, breath. ‘What I need, Nancy, is you.’

She looked up at him, catching his eyes. Silence. She watched his tongue softly roll against his bottom lip, the way his lashes fluttered as he tried to keep his composure.

He was afraid of her.

‘I don’t need you anymore.’

She flinched a little when he blew out a breath, harsh and hard, lowering his head between his shoulders, shaking it. Then, as he looked down at his feet, he began to chuckle. ‘You never needed a gun to kill a man, did you?’

Stubbing out her cigarette, she stepped closer to the bar, right across from him, dipping her head to where he still had his lowered. ‘Tommy.’

Lifting his head, he glanced at her and away, breathing out another humourless laugh as he shoved his hands backwards through his hair.

He thought she was looking at him with pity, but he realised quickly that it wasn’t pity at all. It was a gentle gaze of compassion, and care. Soft smile, soft golden hair, lips in a small little smile.

She was to be cared for, was Nancy, but she was for care too.

She’d cared for him, for all of them. What Tommy had done wasn’t caring for. He’d used her all wrong. He’d never looked at anyone how she was looking at him.

‘I don’t need you anymore, Tommy. And I don’t think you need me either – you’re still living and breathing, aren’t you? Maybe a little easier some days, maybe harder the next. But you’re a person without me. I am a person without you too.’

Tommy swallowed thickly.

Nancy smiled. ‘Without the need, we’ll be able to see if the want is still there. Without all the – fire.’

‘Fire.’ It was barely a croak of the word.

She nodded, knowing he understood. He looked at her a while longer, eyes drifting to her lips. Then he clicked his tongue, taking a deep breath as he flicked his ash, sighing it back out again before inhaling.

‘Well, Nancy. I want you. I want the house, the dog, the fire. The family – all of it, and anything that comes with it,’ he said with a nod of determination. He looked now like he was doing a deal, talking business. Like he had his goal in mind and was plotting on how to reach it. ‘Are you going to let me make you want it too?’

‘I – how?’

He smirked a little at her faulter, the way she’d been so confident and brash, to stumbling again. It was endearing to know there was still a healthy bit of caution in her.

‘Pub's opening in two weeks. You’ll come to the opening? Let me buy you a drink?’

‘A drink?’ she replied with a blink.

Tommy smiled then, wide, with a nod as he stubbed out his cigarette. He stood, looking at her with hope, and a good shimmer of confidence. ‘I’m going to buy you drinks. Take you for meals. Bring you flowers. Kiss you at your door. Court you, properly. Not while you’re living under my roof, living off my money, doing what I say.’

‘What if I’m already being courted?’ she said, trying to knock his cocksure attitude.

He smirked. ‘Healthy competition.’

She watched him fix his hat back on his head, straightening his cuffs, then look at her with expectation.

‘Would you like to take a walk along the dock, Miss Owen?’

Nancy looked at him. She took a few careful moments, squinting lightly at him.

Tommy’s expression softened, his lips tilted up at one side, his eyes soft, his gaze all seeing but gentle. ‘We can stop by and see Danny, if you like?’

‘It’s been a while since I’ve been there.’

‘At least you’ll have something new to tell him,’ he offered for reasoning, raising his hands. ‘No funny business. I’ll even let you have a while alone with him to call me all the swear words you can think of.’

Even though she was stepping to his side, she sent him a scolding look. ‘I can’t swear in a church yard.’

He scrunched his nose up as he opened the door, making show of letting her through first. His smile was boyish, bright and young. Mischievous almost, as he said with a shrug, ‘I buried stolen guns in the very same yard, I’m sure God will forgive you a few curses if he can forgive me that.’

‘How do you know he’s forgiven you?’ Nancy asked with her brow quirked and her chin raised as he locked up.

He sent a wink to Matty as he threw him the keys through his driver side window, then looked to Nancy. Pure mischief.

‘I have a good feeling it’s the day for it.’

After that remark, she stood, glaring after him. Tommy turned after taking a few steps, chuckling under his breath at her, shoving hands in his pockets. He was walking backwards, smirking.

‘Wait,’ she called, stepping towards him so there wasn’t so much room between them.

He smiled, but let a sigh out his nose.

‘I think we should leave it here for today.’

Above all things, he looked impressed.

‘Very well, Miss Owen.’

Tommy walked back to her, a look of content on his face, escorting her back to Matthew’s car.

He opened the door, gesturing her inside. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

Nancy’s brow furrowed a little at him in disbelief. The first time he’d ever willingly seen her into a car, first time he’d ever willingly let her go.

He smiled, patting the front bonnet before stepping back, letting Matty pull the car away.

‘Home?’

Nancy looked to Matty, to his grin, then twisted, seeing the shape of Tommy making his way in the opposite direction. She met Matty’s eye again before she straightened in her seat.

He chuckled. ‘You alright there, little whizzbang?’

Snapping her gaze back to him, she looked him over. ‘I used to hate people calling Dan that.’

Matty scrunched his nose. ‘Part of his story, isn’t it?’

Then, he murmured the song under his breath as he drove, sending her a well meaning smile.

‘And you'll see all the wonders of no-man's land - if a whizzbang hits you…’

Nancy lightly smacked Matty’s arm, making him bark laughter.

‘Come on then, you think of one. I left this city at dawn, came back to leave again half an hour later, then I’ve got to drive all the way back again. Least you can give me is a song.’

‘I’m sure he’s paying you for it.’

Matty laughed again, and Nancy joined him.

‘You can bunk in with Simon for the night, take a rest.’

‘How do you know Si is there?’

‘Frankie told me.’

‘Frankie is a fucking idiot-’

‘He helped me out, in all fairness.’

‘I’ll help him out of a bloody job.’

____________

Tommy wrung his hands at his sides, grinning to himself as he approached the back door.

Polly looked up, sending Arthur a firm glare to shut up, then looking to Tommy.

He frowned, pausing in the door way, assessing the room before stepping in and closing the door. ‘Alright?’

Polly blinked a few times, crossing her arms, straightening her shoulders. ‘You know I wouldn’t usually come here-’

‘Made that clear the last time I invited you to a meeting, yes.’

Sighing boredly, she continued, ‘Matthew came this morning – early. Picked up Nancy.’

Fixing himself a cup of tea, waiting for her to explode, tell him off for meddling with her, Tommy simply replied, ‘Oh yeah?’

But when Polly didn’t speak, he turned, finding her face in a pained expression, worried. Her frown deepened and finally, she blurted: ‘I’m sorry, Tom. I think he took her off to propose.’

He firmed his expression, clenching his jaw to stop his grin, but when he glanced at Arthur, who was bracing for an outburst, he could no longer hold it.

A chuckle escaped him, that simply wouldn’t stop.

‘Tommy!’

‘Sorry, Pol. I’m sorry,’ he tried, holding a hand up, pleading for a moment to settle himself. Looking down, shaking his head, he closed his eyes. A final breath of laughter left him before he looked up, grinning. Then the chuckles started again, and he moved to his aunt, gripping her shoulders and kissing her cheek. ‘It’s good to see you, Polly. Let’s have a drink before you head home, ey?’

Polly looked to Arthur with complete disbelief, who shrugged, slipping a bottle of whiskey from the pantry and following Tommy through to the living room.

'Fetch the glasses, Pol!'

Chapter Text

The pub was incredible. Filled to the brim. Bodies everywhere, moving and shaking. Laughter filled every inch of the air not taken up with smoke.

Nancy slipped through the entrance, Michael holding the door for her, sticking close by. Frankie spotted them first, coming over with a broad grin, pushing through people to get to them.

‘I’ll take your coat through the back, Nance!’ he called in his ear as he leant in to hold her, then slapped Michael on the back in greeting as he waited her slipping it from her shoulders. ‘Bloody hell, you look nice.’

Rolling her eyes, she chuckled. ‘Thank you, Frank.’

He didn’t mind about the red lip print she left on his cheek, making his way through to the back, sending Arthur a smirk as he moved past him. ‘Nancy’s here.’

‘Where’s she at?’ he asked, twisting, following the nod of Frankie’s head towards the doors. Arthur watched Michael look around the room, meeting his eye with a light raise of the hand. He was stood behind Nancy, not quite as intimidating as a protector as her usual guards, but trying his very best.

Arthur started making his way over as Nancy shrank a little, disappearing amongst the moving crowd. Isiah was stood in front of her when he arrived, kissing both cheeks. ‘Siah, take Mikey-boy for a drink. I’ve got our girl.’

He gave Michael a decent pat on the shoulder, then looked over the girl grinning up at him.

‘You look smashing, Nance. Truly smashing,’ he said, pulling her into his arms and kissing the top of her head. When he pulled away, he kept an arm around her and yelled to the people ahead, ‘Make way! Nancy Owen needs a drink!’

With amusement, the crowds parted, letting them closer to the bar, where Arthur leaned on it sideways, giving the nod for their drinks.

‘What do you think of my pub?’

‘It’s lovely, Arthur. Are you pleased?’

He was nodding, eyes gazing, nose scrunching a little. Restless. ‘Oh yes, love. Well bloody pleased. Would be better with you in the back office, back doing the books, of course.’

Nancy softened to his frown, touching his arm. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t visited much.’

Arthur gazed at her a moment before he straightened, brushing off his coat a little, sniffing harshly. ‘Yeah, well, I like coming out to see you in that house. That’s where you should be.’

It was controversial, as one of the Shelby brothers, to say such a thing. ‘Arthur, I know Tommy’s been a little harsh with you. But he loves you very much.’

‘He doesn’t really do it well though,’ he said, dragging his wide-eyed gaze back to her, looking her over in her sparkly dress. ‘Doesn’t love right and proper, does he?’

He didn’t look right. Didn’t look happy.

‘How’s your cleaner getting on?’ Nancy asked carefully. It was hot enough in the pub, even hotter stood with Arthur. There was a hot-wet smell to him, like sweat that never stopped enough to dry.

Arthur thanked the barman when their drinks were delivered, then tilted his head. Sniffed again. ‘She’s a nice girl. Don’t see her much. House is nice though – nicer, anyhow. Lonely. Quiet.’

She watched him dab sweat from his brow, from his upper lip, catching eyes on something amusing across the bar and chuckling.

He turned back to her, all excitable. ‘We’ll share a dance later, me and you. Gonna keep the pub open to all hours – then, when we are sick of the rest, we’ll lock the doors and carry on till sunrise.’

Nancy laughed, feeling the heat of his hands where he’d set them on the tops of her arms. ‘I’ll try to see if I can last that long.’

A hot hand cupping her cheek, he grinned. ‘You will, my love. We’ll have to show you our party tricks.’

Nancy took in a light breath, trying to think of how to respond to that, when a body appeared behind her, hand touching her waist lightly to request that she turn around. And when she did, she grinned.

John dipped to hold her, grinning until he met eyes with Arthur over her shoulder, sending him a flat, firm look.

Arthur sniffed, looking sheepish, glancing around the room to avoid John’s judgemental gaze, hiding in his cup.

‘Hello, pretty,’ John told her when he pulled away, lifting her hands away from her body a little to glance over her dress. But it wasn’t that he was really interested in, it was her face, her lovely face, lips painted red, a natural flush on her cheeks, her hair long and shining. ‘Got a drink?’

‘Yeah, Arthur sorted me out,’ she said, showing him, then twisting to send Arthur a smile. ‘Didn’t you, love?’

He softened, touching a knuckle under her chin then sending John a more formal nod. ‘I’ll get my dance later, Nance, ey?’

She nodded as he moved away, taking a mouthful of her drink and grinning at John automatically when she looked at him and he was already smiling at her. ‘How’s Teddy’s knee?’

‘Well, we were close to taking the leg off – kitchen table job, you know,’ he said, smirking at the memory of the little shit tripping running towards Nancy at the front door of the cottage when they arrived for a visit a few days before. ‘But after a sleep in the car he was miraculously cured.’

She was smirking too, because he was. Those lovely eyes caught on hers – always caught on hers. Almost crossed with their focus, lashes framing them. ‘I’m glad to hear it.’

He sighed, wrapping an arm around the back of her neck and pulling her in to kiss her forehead and hold her close. ‘You alright?’

‘Yeah – just feel behind everyone.’

John glanced at her half finished drink, clicking his glass against it with a wink. ‘Drink up then, I’ll get you another.’

He was already waving over the bar tender, so Nancy threw back what was left in her cup and set it on the bar, leaning into John’s side a little as more people piled up by her. Easily, most naturally, without leer or lech, he set his arm around her, hand on the bar to block her from the bodies around them.

The decent thing about John was that he knew to keep a slither of space between their bodies. Most men would lean in. Even the likes of Frankie, who guarded her most loyally and would never harm her, was still the type to lean up against her if given the chance.

‘Gin, lass?’

Nancy met eyes with the barman, who was setting down John’s drink. She glanced at his cup, finding whiskey, of course. Smirking at the man, she wrapped her painted fingers around the glass and brought it to her lips, telling the barman, ‘He’ll have the same again, please.’

John’s chuckle rumbled above her as she took a sip, turning to send him a mischievous smirk. His face was close, his mouth twisted in amusement but his eyes in a light squint.

‘Arthur needs to train his men to serve ladies first.’

When she’d twisted, her shoulder pressed against his chest, almost sideways but not quite. John’s eyes flickered over her face. He nodded once, leaning over to pick up his freshly made drink, kissing her cheek as he did so. ‘Come on, trouble.’

The seas parted for John, every face spotting him wearing a grin of acknowledgement, of warmth. He kept a hand on her shoulder, only to guide her, twisting her until they found Michael and Isiah, Frankie, Matthew and a few more of the lads who John moved to greet.

‘You not drinking, Matty?’ he asked as he shook his hand, turning to stand in a position where he could see the room. The Shelby men were rare to spend too long without their backs against a wall. Even John.

‘Got to get this one home, haven’t I?’

Nancy tilted her head to him, raising a brow. ‘You don’t have to drive me back, I already told you.’

Matthew looked to John in a way that clearly showed his exhaustion with the subject.

‘You stopping at Isiah’s?’ John asked Michael, who nodded.

‘You know you’ve the offer too, Miss Nancy,’ Isiah spoke, to which Matthew slapped the back of his head. ‘Ow!’

‘Piss off, little tyke.’

John chuckled at the exchange, and when Isiah took Michael with him, turning back to ask, ‘Are you letting Finn come?’

‘Finn’s watching the kids so my nanny can come. She deserves a drink – bless her heart.’

Isiah rolled his eyes, straightening his cap and murmuring to Michael to follow. He did, but not before sending Nancy a little smirk, which she returned.

John looked back up when he heard her say to Matthew, ‘I’ll ask Arthur if I can sleep in his spare room. It’s no worries at all, really.’

Matthew was already grimacing, but John cleared his throat, raising a brow to the boys, making them dissipate fairly swiftly.

Nancy looked up to John. ‘Neat trick.’

He rolled his eyes, leaning sideways against the wall she leaned back against. ‘Listen, you can’t stop at Arthur’s, alright?’

Her own eyes rolled, a bored expression on her face. ‘You two-’

‘He’s bad on the snow. Bad on the drink. Bad on it all, really. Life,’ he explained clearly, a sombre expression on his face. ‘You know what he did? What he tried to do to himself?’

‘Jesus, John,’ she murmured uncomfortably, looking away and to the room.

He frowned, stepping closer, dipping his head down. He needed her to understand. ‘He is my brother and I love him, and that’s why I am allowed to say it’s not a good idea to be near him right now.’

She swallowed, pursing her lips a little.

‘You can stop at mine.’

Her brows rose, head snapping towards him so fast that he smirked and had to look away to stop from laughing.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he tried to control his smile. ‘I mean, I’ll stop at Arthur’s, or Tom’s. I know you won’t be wanting to stop there either – you don’t have to tell me off, I’m not gonna make you talk about it. I don’t care to hear about it, love, if I’m honest. But you go back to mine, let Matty have a drink. The kids will be twice as fucking glad to see you than they will be to see me.’

‘You just don’t want to deal with them on a hangover first thing in the morning,’ Nancy suggested, but she was beginning to smile, which made him smile too.

‘Another silver lining.’

‘What was the first?’ she asked.

He scrunched his nose in a smile, glancing out to the room then back again, eyes wide and bright. ‘If Matty gets drunk enough he starts singing, and he knows all my favourite tunes.’

Nancy sighed, but a chuckle escaped on the end of it. She looked out to the room, watching Matty sip at his one and only pint of the evening.

‘And,’ a voice came to her ear, soft and low, and a little timid to speak. ‘I’ll know you’re home safe.’

She turned, their eyes meeting. Their proximity was fine, nothing uncomfortable for either, until his eyes slipped, dropping to her lips for a fraction of a second. He hadn’t meant to, truly not. It only felt natural. To be so close. For it to be her.

Swallowing, she took a breath in and released it in relief when he leaned back away, leaning his back against the wall to that they were shoulder to shoulder instead.

The pair of they watched to room move and sway and jitter for a few moments, until Nancy took a step forward. She was about to turn to speak to him anyways, but a nervous hand reached for hers, gripping the tips of her fingers, begging her back.

When her eyes met his, he let go in surprise at what he’d done.

‘I’ll go tell Matty he can have a proper drink,’ she said with a smile, a forgiving smile, for him over stepping, even though he hardly had on the outside. But John’s eyes always forgave him.

They could had spent a morning together, stopping for lunch with Polly and the kids at the cottage, and Nancy would do nothing but lean over to set his plate for him, or glance up from wiping Teddy’s eternally filthy face, and John’s gaze would soften, his mind and his heart melting to one liquid thing and pooling behind his eyes.

‘Careful, won’t you?’ he asked for the promise before she left him to face the thrum.

She assured him with a smile before slipping away. She didn’t make it far before he was having to part the bodies for her once again, to clear her a path. She was laughing and he was rolling his darkened eyes, trying not to smile as his glared anyone down who hadn’t noticed fast enough whose path they were blocking.

John held three fingers up to the barman over the top of Frankie’s head where they leaned against the bar. He watched with amusement as Nancy moved to Matthew, telling him, ‘John’s ordering you a proper drink – I’m taking his bed, he’s stopping at Arthur’s or the house.’

He nodded, touching her waist as she lifted to tiptoes to speak closer to his ear. ‘I can walk you round?’

‘It’s alright, I’ll just pick who is sober enough when I’m ready to go. Just have a good night!’

She pulled away, moving to Michael automatically. Living in the same house had drawn them closer, in an elder sister to younger brother kind of sense, to her at least. He wrapped an arm easily around her shoulder, looking rather smug to have Nancy Owen beside him as the conversation picked up, drinks and smokes passed around and around and around.

__________

Tommy arrived to the pub finding it filled with raucous laughter. He found himself wearing a smile.

He found her straight away, head flung back, mouth open in a wide grin as Michael held both hands, jigging them from side to side, making her twist and turn while those around them clapped on.

He moved to the bar, tipping his hat when the barman met his eye. ‘Whiskey, Len.’

‘Yessir.’

‘Been wondering when you’d get here,’ Matty said with a slight slur as he pulled up beside Tommy, empty glasses wedged between his fingers which he carefully set on the bar with a grin. ‘Mighty fine establishment this, Tom.’

Tommy painted on a polite smile, but his eyes were tight. ‘Thought you were driving Nancy home tonight?’

Matty chuckled. ‘She’s stopping on at John’s to look after the kids in the morning, he said he’d find a rest on you or your brother’s spare bed.’

Swallowing, he nodded. ‘Right.’

‘She’s a good laugh on the drink, isn’t she?’

It didn’t miss him, how Matthew’s voice had levelled out, or how he eyed him with light apprehension. Tommy took a sip of his drink before looking down at Matthew, who sighed.

‘I have been meaning to talk to you, Tom.’

Taking in a long breath, Tommy patted him on the shoulder. ‘Is this a conversation you want to have with drink on board, Matthew? Surely something you’ve been meaning to talk about should wait till we’re both free of whiskey.’

‘Couldn’t do it free of the drink, Tom,’ he admitted with a soft, friendly smile. He looked regretful as he told him, ‘I don’t want to trail the girl anymore. I want you to put me somewhere else. I’ll do anything for you, you know that. Just not this.’

He was surprised, but hid it well, only blinking twice, face smoothing. ‘I thought you two got along?’

Matthew smiled a little sadly. ‘Aye, Tommy. We do. Too well for me.’

Tommy’s eyes darkened and Matty shook his head.

‘Nothing like that, fella. I’m just,’ he sighed, looking down a moment then back up with new determination. ‘That wee lass has a heart of gold. I’ve done everything I can to do well by her – by you too. But you’re the man that pays my wages. Before, that wasn’t a problem. But-’

‘You’d take her order over mine,’ Tommy guessed, a soft but sad smile breaking on his face. He put a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. ‘Even though I’m the one who pays you to mind her.’

‘I would defy you nothing, Tom. But if it got to another night of dragging her out a hotel room for you, dragging her back home, even to that big country manor your planning for – I couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t.’

Tommy was nodding, looking at him, but not really. Looking through him.

Matthew carried on, as people often do when the person they’re confessing too falls silent. ‘She’s found some peace. It’s not perfect, but what life is? I’ve watched her on your orders, Tommy. I’ve done it well, haven’t I? Seems like a good time to step back.’

‘It’s alright, Matty,’ he murmured, lifting his hand off his shoulder, eyes pulling away. He had glazed over. ‘Go on now. It’s sorted. You’re fine.’

The dismissal was one that he was used to, where Tommy had heard all that he needed to in order to work it in his mind. So, Matthew moved away, taking himself back to where Arthur was wrapping an arm around Nancy’s shoulder, John’s nanny on the other side, gearing them up for a song.

Nancy waved Michael onto her other arm, who pulled along Isiah. She was laughing, so hard that she could barely sing along.

Tommy necked his drink, and then another.

__________

‘Oh, here is my promised drink,’ was the first thing she said to him, with a well meaning smile of greeting.

Tommy’s own smile was soft. He’d waited until Arthur had peeled away with the nanny before he’d approached the group. Arthur was only going to irritate him, he could tell that from the other side of the pub. In fact, he’d been able to tell it since that morning.

‘Couldn’t get Polly to come?’

Nancy pouted. ‘No. She was a cow about me bringing Michael. She knows you’ve got him doing work, Tommy.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Polly always knows everything. I’ll be sure to ask her for a fortune next time I visit.’

‘You’re going to start visiting?’

Since his declaration, he’d sent flowers to the house twice, and picked Nancy up to walk her home from work once. Business had kept him away, and himself. He was keeping away. He’d gotten used to it.

‘She said she’d made a roast.’

Nancy gave a little smile, one that was lined with pity as she tilted her head up at him. ‘We have one most Sunday’s after church – yes, I know. I like church. But Arthur comes every few weeks, John and the kids too. You’re always welcome to join us.’

He was nodding but not really listening. He was watching her fingers on her glass, which she curled against her chest, her had circled by one of Polly’s little gold chain bracelets. ‘Curly said he’d took you to the church yard to see Danny.’

‘Oh. Yeah. I came to the city with Matthew when he was coming back from his shift. I was only here an hour, then Frankie drove me back,’ she explained, and he chuckled, shaking his head. ‘What?’

‘I was going to ask how the visit went, not your exact whereabouts. You’re not in trouble.’

‘I just panicked because I was in the city and didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to think I was hiding it,’ she explained. And for once, it wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t nervous. She just explained herself, plainly and simply. She felt suddenly sober. ‘But the visit was well. Well enough. I saw Linda there – the nanny,’ she filled in when he looked a little confused. ‘She’s really lovely.’

‘Arthur has certainly took a shine to her,’ he said with a smirk, watching Nancy sigh.

‘She’s a good girl who just needed the extra money,’ she told him, but rolled her eyes, sipping at her drink. ‘Been busy today?’

‘I thought you didn’t want to hear about business.’

‘What else are we supposed to talk about? You were late. I am asking why. I’d do the same with anyone.’

Both brows raised, he suggested, ‘The drink’s made you sharp, Miss Owen.’

‘Sorry – I’m just tired. Not used to it any more,’ she added with a chuckle. The alcohol seemed to have soaked up, sucked up with all the air when Tommy had entered the building. She shivered. ‘I’m going to make a round then start saying my farewells – do you want to walk me to John’s?’

He wanted to say that she didn’t have to stay there. That he’d thought she’d come home with him, or at least go back to the country at the very least. But her offering him to walk her felt like her both telling him firmly that she would be staying at John’s, but also that it didn’t mean she didn’t want to spend time with him.

He gave a nod, glancing to some people who’d been hovering near by to talk to him. Brushing a kiss to Nancy’s cheek, he let her go.

_________

‘Bloody hell. I thought you would be in bed – lost you earlier. Nancy was looking for you for a while,’ John spoke as he swayed from the back door way and into the kitchen. He filled a glass from the bottle Tommy had open on the table. ‘Fucking good night that was. Managed to get Arthur home as well.’

A grunt of a chuckle broke at the back of Tommy’s throat as John took a seat with a sigh, undoing his trousers and unbuttoning his shirt a few down.

‘Took Nance to mine as well, Finn was still up, so she’s well sorted. Matty’ll drive her back tomorrow unless you are gonna do it,’ John spoke tiredly, reporting back in a ramble. ‘I might be sober enough if Polly is gonna make a Sunday roast though, in all honesty. Fuck me, I’m drunk.’

‘I’m glad you had a good night. Finn’s room is yours. I’m not carrying you to it though.’

John chuckled, opening his eyes from where he’d closed them, tipping his head back to face the ceiling. He smiled at his brother. ‘Something happen tonight?’

‘Wasn’t really in a party mood,’ he confessed lightly, blinking, shaking his head. ‘Shouldn’t have been late.’

‘You could have played catch up with me, I was going slow to begin with.’

‘Thought I’d let you have all the fun for once.’

‘Yeah, you’re known for your fun, brother.’

Tommy met John’s smirk with his own, rolling his eyes. Then he sighed, looking down to his glass. ‘Matthew doesn’t want to mind the cottage anymore – mind her.’

John scrunched up his nose. ‘Matty’s her top boy. The lads have started calling him Ceaser. You know, old King Edward’s dog that followed him around-’

‘Because he is paid by me to protect her. But he wouldn’t know what to do if I was the one she needed protecting from.’

John fell silent. Mouth closed. Watching his brother as his fingers twitched and jittered over the glass. ‘He say that?’

‘He’s not the most articulate but I understood the meaning,’ Tommy confirmed roughly, sitting himself up a little straighter, still not able to look up. ‘Can’t help understand him. Admire him too. For being able to step away from something he knows he shouldn’t be apart of, or can’t be.’

The brothers were quiet a while, until John finally murmured, ‘Well, he’s a better man than me.’

‘Better than most,’ Tommy agreed, raising his eyes, meeting John’s on level ground.

They looked at each other like that for a long while, understanding, admiring, resenting.

Neither were the kind of men that had ever been able to leave something alone that they wanted, or thought that they should have. The Shelby men were entitled, stubborn, determined. While they practiced it, neither had done it before:

Let something go. Not really.

They did it in different ways, but they all fought their own addictions. Drugs, money, power, women, the drink, the smokes, the laughter, the peace. They were all chasing something, all clinging on for dear life.

Even Ada was the same. An insatiable thirst to be respected, to be strong. She was addicted to it. Which is why the still used the Shelby name if she ever needed the boost, for people to listen, for her voice to be heard.

Tommy pulled out a piece of paper from his inner pocket, flicking it down onto the table with little care. He lit up a smoke as he watched John pick it up, unfolding the creases. He smiled softly.

‘The girls will have to do a new one,’ he said, noting the crinkles and tears deforming the paper version of Nancy, having been kept in Tommy’s top pocket for too long.

Tommy’s eyes couldn’t leave the paper, the side with the scar gazing back at him while John beamed down at the opposite side, the side without the ugly pick line. He mumbled out, ‘Paper’s no good. It would just get – ruined.’

‘It’s just a drawing, Tommy,’ he gave lightly, holding it back out to him, a gentle, drunk smile on his face.

‘And she was just a girl.’

Chapter Text

Nancy heard thudding, growing closer and closer, then a gasp beside the bed.

‘I told you to stay out,’ Finn barked as he lunged across the corridor, hanging off the door frame as he saw Katie leap onto Nancy in bed, arms wrapping around her neck, nest of hair tickling her nose. ‘Sorry, Nance. She wakes up early.’

Nancy hummed a response, but more thudding followed.

Finn managed to whip up Teddy before he hit the bedroom, but not Jamie, who leapt into the bed too, wrapping arms around Nancy’s waist, asking excitedly, ‘Why are you here?!’

‘Where’s da?’ Joey asked as she pottered into the room, slipping into the far side of the bed, lazily pulling Katie off the top of Nancy and settling her in the middle of the bed, wrapping arms around her and closing her eyes.

Teddy finally wrestled free, lying flat on top of Nancy, his head on her stomach as she grunted and laughed. ‘Are you hanging?’

Barking laughter, Nancy lifted her head, finally fully opening her eyes. ‘What would you know about hanging?’

Jamie chuckled. ‘Dad is always hanging after a night down the pub.’

‘Oi,’ Finn warned, but chuckling. ‘Go get dressed, the lot of you. I’ll do Nance a cuppa.’

‘You’re an angel, Finn,’ she told him, ruffling Teddy’s hair as he climbed off, telling them all, ‘Your dad will be home soon, I’m sure. You’ve got me until then. Unless Linda shows up.’

They didn’t seem to mind any of those options as they piled out of the room, back to their own to dress. Nancy groaned at the thrum in her head, pressing her finger tips to her scalp a while, eyes squeezed tight shut.

Finally, she decided it was hopefully the kind of hangover that would go away with a good cup of tea and brushing her teeth. So, she set to work, and arrived downstairs fresh faced and ready to make breakfast, only to find that Finn already had it sorted.

She kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you.’

‘You could have stayed in bed,’ he told her softly as he buttered toast, licking some of the grease from the side of his thumb.

‘Nah, don’t want to waste the day. Besides, John might want his bed when he comes back,’ she added with a chuckle, picking up two of the plates and setting them in front of Teddy and Katie. ‘Say thank you.’

‘Thank you!’ they chorused, munching happily, making her smile.

Nancy settled in with her cup of tea, trying her best to fight away the headache. It was a little easier, considering the food kept the kids quiet.

‘Can we go for a walk?’ Jamie asked her, breaking the silence after a while.

‘We could, only I’ve only got this dress. People might look at me funny,’ she said, gesturing to herself.

‘They’d think you’d been out all night,’ Jamie said innocently with a laugh, which made Finn snort.

Nancy reached behind her to where he leaned against the door frame and smacked him in the stomach lightly, which only made him laugh more.

‘How are you getting home to Aunt Polly’s?’

‘Can we come back with you for a visit?’

‘Oh yes! Can we?’

‘Can we?’

The front door opened and closed, and the kids grew silent, looking up to see who was going to be coming through the door. A rough but pleased voice greeted, ‘Alright, Finny.’

‘Daddy!’ Katie yelled, rushing to meet him in the dark lit corridor.

He was chuckling, walking into the room with her wrapped around his middle, glancing to take stock of who was at the table before he spoke, ‘Thought you were all still in bed, all the curtains still closed up. Or has someone got a headache?’

Joey pulled a comically judgemental look at Nancy, while Teddy said with his face all scrunched up, ‘Nancy had too much wine – was it wine?’

Nancy smirked, shaking her head. ‘I’d definitely still be in bed if it was wine.’

John chuckled as he greeted his children one by one, dipping to whisper in Teddy’s ear, ‘Nancy drank the whole Garrison dry last night. Your da and Matty had to carry her here. They had to shut the pub and everything – there was no gin left!’

‘Yes, and your da had all the whiskey,’ she added with a bored look, adding, ‘You seem perky. Fancy driving me home?’

The children made sounds of disagreement and disappointment, as John asked, ‘Why, you eager to get back?’

‘I’ve got dinner to make. Polly will have gone to church on her own.’

The amusement on his face was mischievous, boyish. Hers was regretful for even mentioning it. ‘Lets go for a Sunday roast at Aunt Pol’s, kids.’

They scrambled, chairs scraping on the floor making Nancy wince as she glared at John. ‘You don’t have to drive me. I was only winding you up.’

‘I don’t mind,’ he said with a shrug, plucking up a piece of Teddy’s left over toast and eating it as he leaded back against the sink. ‘Besides, we’ve nothing better to do. Linda is likely still at Arthur’s-’

‘No!’ she gasped, hands on her cheeks. ‘Linda? Nanny Linda?’

He was nodding, smirking as he chewed. ‘He comes round to walk her home, you know.’

He enjoyed watching her process the information, the way she grimaced and frowned, eyes blown wide, darkness ringing them. ‘But she is so-’

He took a bite. ‘I know.’

Letting out a breath of laughter, Nancy rose, beginning to side up the dishes. ‘That’s mad, truly. What a bloody strange night.’

‘You regret coming back for it?’ he asked lightly, having slid sideways to lean back on the counter as she filled the sink.

Her smile was soft, simple. ‘Of course not. I had a lovely time. Are you going to change? You smell like the bottom of a barrel.’

John put a wounded hand over his heart but laughed, touching her arm as he moved past her and away.

It was nice, to be there, helping out without the thought of upsetting anyone. For being judged for it. There was something comfortable about moving around John’s house. It felt like how she used to feel in Dan’s. Comfortable enough to get jobs done, to feel at home. But still almost like a guest.

She wondered where in the world she’d ever feel tied to. Maybe when she finally made a house a home herself. But would a husbands house ever feel truly hers? Surely, as she’d be the one cleaning and cooking in it. But it would still be his house. His rules. His money.

She was getting the kids into the car, making sure her coat stayed securely around her, when Michael came strolling up the street.

‘Was coming to see you,’ he said, making her look up as she closed the door. ‘Can see you’re all sorted for a ride back though.’

‘Yeah, John and the kids are coming for lunch. There’ll be room for you if the kids squash up-’

Michael had a good way of hiding a guilty face, but Nancy could still always read it. He had his hands in his pockets, swallowing a little. ‘Will you tell mum I’ll be home tonight? One of the lads will drive me back.’

Nancy pressed her lips together, holding his gaze a while. She glanced over him. He looked like a proper Blinder then, all flat cap and coat. ‘What are you doing today?’

John appeared, sauntering, slapping Michael on the arm and reaching to ruffle his freshly combed hair. Michael lurched out of the way, shoving him off, chuckling all the same. ‘Alright, Mikey?’

‘Can you just pass the message on?’

She froze a little at his icy expression, but nodded. ‘Yeah, Michael, of course. See you at home.’

John frowned, but gave the boy a nod anyways before getting in the drivers seat. ‘Who is gonna sing us a song then?’

Katie squealed in excitement, and John sent Nancy a most winning smirk as she grimaced, pressing fingers to her temples.

___________

Polly was still out when they arrived at the cottage, likely stopped round someone’s for a spot of tea, or gone off for a walk. She was doing a lot of that, just pottering. Contently pottering. Nancy opened up the back door, releasing the children, toeing the doorstop into place and letting some air into the kitchen.

‘Shall we have a cup of tea?’ she offered John, who gave a single nod, a warm smile. She was working away, setting the water to boil, getting out cups and milk, when he finally crossed the silent boarder, the one that they’d one day, without realising, built to keep the peace.

‘Do you think if I was the one to come take you out of the whore house, it would have been me and you, not you and him?’

Hands paused, she let herself feel the swell of pain in her heart, then continued pouring water into both mugs. ‘Who knows what would have happened.’

Not satisfied with a brush off of an answer, he persisted. ‘It’s taken me all this time to ask the question, princess. I want a proper answer.’

‘Don’t call me that, John,’ she begged, hands on the edge of the counter, head down, eyes closed.

‘Why, because my brother doesn’t like it, or because you don’t?’ he asked, and waited patiently until she turned around, tilting her head at him in that way that she did. He couldn’t help but soften his expression.

‘I don’t know what you want me to say.’