#eots!verse

He hisses from sensitivity as he sits up and brings them chest to chest - well chest to belly. 

“By what?”

“That you still want me while I’m pregnant,” she tells him a matter of factly. 

She had been expecting that as soon as her belly became more pronounced that any sexual desires he may have had for her would wane. In the few conversations she had heard from other married women while at the laundry house, their husbands didn’t want to have sex with them. Most women only shared a bed with their husbands when it was to become with child. 

It was simply never for the sake of their own pleasure. 

Being with Thomas, it was almost daily they would become joined. Thomas is the only man she had ever been with. Her experience was only from their first time. She knew Thomas had been with others. There were the insecurities that she wouldn’t be able to please him as others would. The fear he would seek comfort from others. She keeps those thoughts to herself. 

Instead, she received the opposite. She is sure there was some weird alpha male ego pride thing with him, but Thomas had begun teaching her everything there was to know how to please a man - to please him. There were gentle explorations in the morning. The teasing torture with mouth and fingers. In the afternoons, it was reserved for the raw passion against the walls and desks that would leave her aching for the night to come. The nights were a combination of the two. Sometimes it would be gentle lovemaking with them breathing each other’s breath as they slowly grind against each other. Other times, it would be rushed and frenzy, she would be abashed by the many scratches his back would have the following morning. 

Yet, the most enlightening part was all the positions. She didn’t know her body could move in such different positions and angles. It also helped that with her belly slowly becoming in the way that they needed to get creative. 

She had her favored positions though. She did enjoy being on top of Thomas. She liked the power it held being in control of the pleasure. She favored the position they were in now the most though. She loved being chest to chest with him. Her arms wrapped around his neck and his arms were around her waist. She loves looking into his eyes, the blue merely a rim as he held her tightly. His eyes always told her everything she needed to know about her husband. 

“You listening to those silly girls again?” Evelyn is well aware of how Thomas views some of her friends and the surrounding townspeople. 

She rolls her eyes. “I am getting fat.”

Thomas huffs. “I’d be concerned if you weren’t.”

“Thomas!”

Thomas chuckles and he leans against the headboard. “I’ll always want ya.”

“Even when my tits start to sag?”

 He leers at her exposed breasts. “Even when yer tits start to sag.”

Evelyn rolls her eyes. 

Her husband is sweeter than she expected him to be. Yet, romantic would be a loose term she would ever use. 

She feels his fingers trail up her thigh. 

“Thomas,” she moans. 

She watches as he grabs a pillow and moves down. “On your back.”

She complies easily and he helps adjust the pillows below her hips. He spreads her thighs as he moves in between them, “I’ll always want ya, Evie.”

1919

There were a lot of things Evelyn missed during the war. There were the usual ones of the comfort of certain raw goods, the stability she had with Thomas home and providing for them, and her husband just being a room away.

The one thing she didn't expect to miss in abundance was sex. The intimacy of sex with Thomas was something she craved many nights. 

She felt Thomas's body, his actions, told her more than his words ever did. Although sometimes she wished he would speak more as one was to never underestimate the value of words. 

When Thomas came home, she knew that a part of him would be different. Things wouldn’t be the same as before. However, what Thomas couldn’t say she had figured it could be said through the comfort of what sex could provide. 

However, she wasn’t foolish to think he would come home and sex would be something that would happen. She knew it would be a while to find that comfort or familiarity again. 

His first night home, they laid in bed and the space between them could have been an ocean. She had turned on her side and closed her eyes. 

It was only a few hours later she had been startled awake by Thomas having a nightmare. 

She had woken up by his strangled cry. She had tended to him that night. His sweaty forehead buried in her chest as she held him as she used to do Jamie. She ran her fingers through his hair as she rocked him to sleep with a lullaby.

The nightmares were frequent. It wasn't until a week later that he tried to soothe his nerves from the nightmares with sex.

She assumed it had been a terrible one. She didn't always wake up with him. This one she did as she felt him stiffen where her hand rested on his chest. 

He had woken up startled and struggling for breath. She watched with sleepy eyes as her hand went to his cheek and she tried to soothe him. 

She could tell he was frantic and confused before his face found comfort in her chest. However, it seemed to be not enough as it was she felt him raking up her nightgown. 

She flushed with confusion and watched as her husband had spat in his hand to use as a lubricant.

She had spread her legs to allow him entry and cried out at the intrusion. It had been four years and she wasn't used to him anymore. She had been prepared for Thomas to ignore her discomfort. 

Instead, the pads of his fingers had slid between them. Her husband wasn’t totally gone.

It wasn't awkward, but Evelyn felt it was off. It wasn't them. It was too mechanical as she laid there and let him use her for an escape.

However, it was the start of a routine. Thomas would only seek her out in the middle of the night to wipe the nightmares from his mind, or the nights he would come back from Garrison drunk, or worst smelling like the Opium he tried to hide from her. 

Unlike the first night, they were never face to face. He would always take her from behind. She wasn't able to look into his eyes like now. 

Except it’s in the morning for once. 

She heard him minutes before leaving the room. She didn't bother asking where he was going as she hardly ever received a response. Instead, she sighed as his movements brought a fresh breeze of cool air. It felt unreasonably hot this morning. 

She had one of her thinner nightdresses on and she was tempted to take it off and sleep bare. 

Sleep was calling her again when the door opened back up. 

She thought it must be earlier than she expected as he came back into bed. She had mumbled in her pillow if he was okay and she had been taken by surprise when he wrapped his arms around her and brought her into his bare chest. 

She had a feeling about what was going to happen next.

She had surprised however by him taking his time. He began by rubbing the skin of her thighs before he trailed up taking her short nightdress with her. 

He satisfied her with his fingers first. He had pinched and pulled at her nipples. It had set off her first peak before he find the sweet spot in between her legs. She couldn't stop the mewls and moans leaving her mouth as he curled his fingers in her. 

She was barely over the wave of her second orgasm when she felt him shift and move her leg and slide in.

She doesn't know what is different from the usual times. She's more vocal as she has her fists against the wall as Thomas works her over. It wasn't the usual pounding that was for short quick release. His movements are slow and languid. 

He is hitting that spot deep inside that has her toes curling and seeing white spots. He is deep inside her as if he wants to leave a piece of him in her. He is trying to bury him in her to take. 

She can feel the mess between her thighs leaking onto the bed and him. 

Her nipples tighten with each brush against the sheet. Her breath comes in short spurts as she feels herself getting close to the edge. 

Thomas's hand that was splayed on her stomach moves down and presses on her lower abdomen. His other head wraps around her neck and squeezes.

Evelyn isn't sure if she screams, but her mind goes blank as her body twitches. Thomas slams into her a couple of times before he drawls out a quiet fuck and groans in her ear as he releases inside her. 

She moans at the feeling of him warm inside her. Her mind is a blank hazy mess. He removes his hand from her neck and his fingers brush against her nipple.

She hisses, which causes him to laugh. It is a sound that doesn't sound natural to him anymore.

"Daddy, what are you doing to Mama?"

Any euphoria lingering leaves her body instantly. Thomas stiffens behind her.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Thomas asks. 

He applies pressure again against her stomach as he pulls himself out of her. She bites her lip to muffle the whimpers of the loss. She can fill his cum leaking out of her. 

"I had to go potty."

Thomas throws the sheet over her as he moves out of the bed naked as the day he was born. She tucks the sheet around herself. She sits up and watches Thomas slid on his boxers. She's too embarrassed to speak. 

"Did you go?" Thomas inquires. 

Jamie shakes his head. 

Thomas sighs. "Alright, let's go then."

Jamie’s nose wrinkles up. "You need pants, Daddy."

Thomas shakes his head as he grabs his discarded pants from the night before. 

"I's hungry too, Daddy."

Evelyn clears her throat. "I'll be done in a minute to start breakfast."

Jamie looks back and forth between the two of them. "Daddy, you still didn't say what you were doing with Mama."

"Alright enough with the questions. I thought you needed to go to the bathroom," Thomas deflects. 

Jamie nods his head as he makes his way to the door with Thomas on his heels. 

Evelyn sighs as she plops back down on the bed. She grimaces at the wet spot beneath and the stickiness she feels forming. The sheet is tucked around her as she gets off the bed. She walks to the wardrobe and finds her robe. She places it on her vanity chair. She goes over the water basin they keep in the room. She does a quick clean and knows no matter what she is going to need a bath. She freshens up quickly and grabs her nightgown. She slides it on and puts her robe on over it. She strips the bed as well.

Considering the boys aren't back in the house that Jamie didn't just have to pee. She goes into the kitchen and begins working on a quick breakfast. She has just begun cracking some eggs to make some cheesy scrambled eggs when Polly walks through. 

Her eyebrows raise at the sight of her. 

"You look frazzled," Polly comments.

"Late morning," Evelyn replies.

A loud scoff comes from Ada, who enters the kitchen. She has a teasing look in her eyes. "So you screaming me brother's name is what you call a late morning."

"Ada!" Evelyn says exasperated while Polly laughs. 

Polly comes over by the stove. "Go clean up, love. I can smell him on you. Better do it before the boys come over."

Evelyn gives her a thankful smile and she pinches Ada's ear in retaliation.

Evelyn enters the hallway where Thomas and Jamie are coming back in.

"Is everything okay?" She asks her boys. 

Jamie nods his head. "Yes, Mama."

"Aunt Polly is making breakfast. Go wash your hands and see if she needs help."

Jamie listens without complaint. 

"Where are you headed?" Thomas asks her. 

"Apparently, I smell like you."

Thomas smiles. 

"I was going to draw a bath…" she trails off. She doesn't know if she could really handle rejection from him. Yet, this morning seems so different. It seemed the storm that seemed to be in Thomas was waning.  He steps forward, but the moment is broken when John walks in. 

She knows the moment is broken. 

He stops and waggles his eyebrow at them before he turns serious. "It's Danny, Tom. He's in an episode."

"Alright, I'll be there in a minute."

. . .

After taking a fresh bath and replacing the bedsheets. Evelyn makes her way downstairs. She helps finish up breakfast. Finn immediately heads outside with his cousins to play with. Uncle Charlie dropped by to pick up Jamie to head to the yard. Apparently, Thomas plans to meet them later. 

Evelyn isn't too sure where Ada disappeared to. 

It leaves just her and Polly downstairs. It seems Polly is taking a break from the shop.

Evelyn pours her a cup of tea. 

"So how are things?"

Evelyn raises an eyebrow at Polly. "You know I can't complain, Pol."

Polly lights a cigarette. "Today's been the first time you've been properly fucked. Maybe Tommy isn't dead inside after all."

Evelyn shakes her head. Out of all the brothers, she knows Thomas had the most drastic shift in personality. His smiles were rare and didn't come easy. Arthur's drinking is excessive and it seemed war only amplified his hair triggering anger.

John appears to be the only one the most adjusted back to civilian life. 

"He's home. He's here. That's more than most wives can say." Evelyn doesn’t want to complain. She knows things could be worse for her. 

Polly sips her tea. "Tommy is the most sensitive out of the brothers."

Evelyn nods her head. She takes a sip of her tea. "I think I cursed him. Told him he wouldn't come back the same. In his eyes...he hasn't looked me in the eyes truly since he came back."

It is something they never acknowledged in the house. They all know Polly could predict the babies of the family and she has second sight. Evelyn even believes she can read auras as well. 

When it comes to her, Evelyn doesn't know what she possesses. She just knows that in anger or fear she was able to speak of warnings that came to fruition. She knows it’s why she is careful to speak. She knows she scares Thomas sometimes with the things she says. 

"You shouldn't hide from your gift."

Evelyn snorts, "I wouldn't call it a gift."

"You possess power. Own it."

"So I guess it's true what they say that I really bewitched Thomas."

Polly snorts, "It's only known between the two of you what went down that first night. Besides men always think with their cocks."

Evelyn shakes her head. “I could have been anyone that night then.”

Polly smiles and taps her black cigarette against the ashtray. Her smile dims slightly. "I would have been concerned if you had green eyes." She takes a long drag of her black cigarette. "If Tommy looks you in the eyes he might break, love."

. . .

Polly leaves Evelyn alone with her thoughts. 

Evelyn knows Thomas just needs time. She just doesn't expect him to bare his soul. She just wants the acknowledgment that something is different. 

Yet, she doesn't want to linger on those thoughts. She knows her husband is still there if the morning was any indication. Instead, she pulls out the gramophone with their few records and grabs a book to read.

She thinks it's only an hour or two before the kids come piling in for a late lunch. The kids all beg for a dance with her. 

Ada comes back from wherever she goes these days and dances with Finn. Arthur and John come through the shop and Evelyn is being twirled between the two of them. 

The house is filled with laughter and pained exasperated groans of pain as the kids step on their toes.

It's the first light-hearted day they had since the men came home. It feels like how it was before the war. Things were still tough, but all of them in the house were what mattered. 

The dancing doesn't even stop when Jamie and Thomas come through. Jamie insists on a dance with her. He giggles through the dance while Ada manages to coax Thomas in a dance. 

They all take a break as the kids grumble they are hungry for dinner. Arthur and John take a trip to the fish and chips shop. 

The excitement and full bellies turn the kids lethargic. Jamie barely finishes his last chip before he falls asleep. She's surprised when Thomas volunteers to put him to bed. Finn follows him upstairs. Arthur leaves with John to carry the kids back to John's place. Ada leaves with a kiss on the cheek saying she is going to see friends. 

Evelyn is left alone. She heads back to clean up the front room. She turns the gramophone on. She is folding a blanket over the couch when Thomas enters the room. He walks over to her and holds his hand out.  

"You hate dancing," she tells him. 

"You don't."

Evelyn places her hand in is and he pulls her close. The song is slow. So they wouldn't be doing the foxtrot. She can't remember the last time they danced. Thomas never was one to be the center of the party. He always sat on the side observing. When he did dance it was always near the end of the night, he would gift her one. She treasured that one dance. 

She smiles up at him shyly and he dips her, causing her to giggle. 

He gives her a twirl as the music ends. She goes to pull away thinking the dance would be over, but he pulls her back. His hand on her lower back kept her near. The heat of his palm burns her. 

Evelyn leans up as she places a kiss on her husband's lips. Whatever was restraining her husband seems to break as he returns it feverishly. Their feet stumble as he leads her back to the couch. 

His movements are rushed and chaotic as he works to remove their barriers. It's when he only unbutton his pants and pushes her skirt up that she stops his hands. 

"Baby, slow down," she tells him softly. 

She kisses him slowly. His body goes still. She removes his waistcoat and suspenders. She reverses their positions and pushes him back gently as she removes his shirt. She settles in between his legs as she places a kiss on his cheek and slowly trails down to his neck and chest. She kisses his tattoo of the sun rays on his chest. She moves over to kiss the small script initials of hers, his, and Jamie's. 

She dips her hand in his boxers. He hisses as she pumps length. She pulls him free from his constraints and she stands up from between his legs. She makes quick work in removing her dress and slip. She kicks them to the side as she bends down to her knees. 

She places a kiss on his abdomen before she licks him from base to tip. Her free hand fondles his scrotum. When she takes him fully in her mouth, his head falls back onto the couch and his fists are clenched at his sides. 

Evelyn can admit this isn't exactly her favorite act. She does like the power it can bring but it's her least desired considering the ache in her jaw. She has never gotten used to the taste. 

As she swallows down his length, her breath fans across his abdomen, and she gags slightly.

She takes a minute before coming back her spit and pre-cum sticking to her lips. Thomas looks at her with hazy eyes before he lifts his hand and pushes her back down. 

She lets her jaw go slack as he fucks her throat. She parts her knees wider, feeling the burn from the carpet. Her hand reaches in between and she begins touching herself. 

Thomas's moans change and she finds herself ripped off his length.

He pulls her up and onto his lap where he flips them. He hovers over her as he sinks into her slowly. He gives her a minute to adjust to his length as he slowly rocks back and forth. 

She wraps her legs around him tighter. He presses a kiss to her lips before he buries his face in her neck. She can feel her orgasm building with each roll that catches her clit. Her body becomes tighter as she chases her release. Their moans are quiet in the house.

Thomas's thrusts become harder. His hand moves between them and she bites her lip to stop the scream that was on the edge of her lips. When he pinches her clit, it triggers her. She slams her head back into the cushion of the couch as she rides it out. 

Her nails dig into his shoulders as he pushes into her. Her walls flutter around him. His hips stutter and he buries himself to the hilt as he releases inside her. She moans at the feeling as she milks him.

He doesn't pull out. 

Instead, he moves his head from her neck to her chest. No words are said as he matches her breathing pattern. His muscles relax. 

She's sure the wetness she feels on her chest isn't just his sweat. 

"Are you bothered by this?"

"No," she answers. She grew up with stories about Aberama Gold and the antics of the Lee's. Those men barely had souls. "I trust what you're doing is for the good of our family.

"Besides, Thomas treats her right. He cares for her and their unborn child. It’s more than most men.

Thomas moves her between his legs. His hands go to her waist as he is at eye level with her belly. His lips caress the fabric of her shift. "Our son won't grow up in this. I'm going to get us a house in the country. A big house with a bunch of horses."

They are rewarded with a few kicks in response to his words.

Thomas immediately places a kiss on the area of the kicks as he rubs her belly.

Evelyn smiles.

1919

Evelyn wakes up startled when she hears the bedroom door click shut. She sits up and rubs her eyes. Considering how dark it is she knows it's after midnight.

"Is everything okay?" She mumbles sleepily.

"Go back to sleep," Thomas answers.

Evelyn frowns and she doesn't listen to him especially as she gets a strong whiff of copper. She turns on the oil lamp. Thomas looks like he stepped out of a butcher shop. She immediately gets out of bed.

She is awake and alert. "Christ, Thomas, you're lucky Jamie wasn't in here seeing you like this."

She didn't expect business would be this violent this quickly anyways. She had the misguided notion the men would have been done with their need for violence.

She doesn't bother asking questions. She doesn't think she wants to know why they have been referring to her husband as the Devil anyways. Thomas also wouldn't answer her.

He doesn't fight her as she removes the bloody clothes.

"I don't even think these are worth saving," she mutters.

"Toss them in the fire," he adds as he works on lighting a cigarette.

"Your lungs are going to turn black."

"Worried bout me health?" He questions as he works on removing his pants.

She chucks his shirt in the fire and gathers the remaining articles of clothing and folds them neatly. "I would like to have my husband home in one piece."

"Oi, c'mere."

Evelyn looks at him with a raised eyebrow. She places his pants on her small vanity chair and approaches him.

She eyes the sloppy job he did of washing his face before he came home. There are remnants of smeared blood like macabre face paint.

He places his cigarette in the ashtray and wraps his arms around her midsection. He rests his head against her stomach.

She brings her arms up and holds him as she runs her fingers through his scalp. His hair is still damp from blood. She knows her shift is ruined as well.

She sways a bit as she cradles him as she used to with Jamie when he was a baby. She feels him take a deep breath against her stomach, but nothing is said between them.

She manages to eventually coax him into the bed after a quick wash of his face and hair. He still clings to her as he buries his face in between her breasts.

She wonders what he is thinking of. This had been a recurring theme when he would cling to her. She knows it is a side effect of the war. She would find him staring blankly at the wall before he would bury himself in her. Seek a comfort that she feels is more maternal than anything.

Yet, he won't talk about the war. He won't talk about anything.

Sleep evades her for the rest of the night

With a husband coming home covered in blood and the occasional horse shit, Evelyn finds herself at the market much more than she would care to be. She finds it more annoying than anything when she is subject to stares and whispers.

Evelyn is used to it. She's not ashamed of her husband, family, or name. Yet, at times, she wishes people didn't know who she is.

With her basket filled with cleaning supplies, Evelyn is making her way home when her name is called from across the street.

She turns to find Duncan Hayes.

Duncan Hayes makes his way across the street. He is the current owner of the sweet shop, The Sugar Rush. Duncan was tall with black hair and a growing beard. He had dark black eyes and she isn't someone that she imagines would run a candy store. From appearances alone, he doesn't give off much of a friendly - family-orientated demeanor.

He is one of the few men that didn't make it to the war or the front lines at least. He opened his shop right when victory was declared. It had become a favorite amongst the children in Small Heath.

"Morning, Duncan," she greets cordially.

"Haven't seen you and Jamie around in a while."

Evelyn nods her head. She knows her son is sometimes overwhelmed within the family. She feels that sometimes he is drowned out by his cousins. She makes sure that there is at least one day a week she devotes to him. Her treat for him would be for the two of them to go to the sweet shop. She knows that she is to blame for his emerging sweet tooth.

Going to Duncan's shop had become a routine and it was only natural that they would form a friendship. Duncan is probably her only friend in Small Heath since Martha passed.

"Have a full house now that the men are back," she elaborates. Although she doesn't really owe him an explanation.

"I actually saw your husband and his brothers." He tells her as he scratches the back of his head.

Evelyn looks at him silently urging him to continue.

“I know the men came back different, I just want to know that you're alright."

Evelyn presses her lips together. She knows whatever happened last night Duncan had been a witness too. She has many thoughts as to what the hell did her husband do, but even more what was Duncan doing to even be around her husband conducting business.

Better yet, she wonders if Thomas has approached him about protection.

She tightens her grip on her basket. "Thanks for your concern, but it's not needed."

She doesn't bother waiting for a response as she makes her way back home.

These are the days that she misses Martha the most. Martha had been a balm during her transition in the family. It was so amusing seeing someone as quiet as Martha being with a man like John. It was obvious Martha kept John in line and it seemed John didn't mind considering the babies that were made.

Martha had been the one she could share all her frustrations with. The ones she felt she couldn't even share with Thomas or even Polly.

She is terribly aware that she has been a social outcast since she stepped foot in Small Heath. It is hard enough being a gypsy. People looked at them as they were beneath them. Silas, her older brother, didn't seem bothered. Yet, he had found home with Arthur and their little crew. Evelyn always struggled. The other girls didn't want to play with her due to her looks and her slight accent.

She didn't want to bother Silas. So she spent most of her time in the library working on her writing and reading skills. It was the only thing Henry seemed to appreciate as she could keep track of inventory and the books for the shop.

However, she had shunned herself, even more, when she became pregnant. No one believed her marriage happened because of love. They all did the math from the wedding to when Jamie was born.

Evelyn has never given much thought to how much she is isolated. How she doesn't have an identity out of being a wife and mother.

"Is that my dear good sister?"

Evelyn looks up at the cross-section where she finds a cheery Ada.

"I'm your only sister," she replies dryly as she takes in Ada's flustered appearance.

She and Polly know there is a man in Ada's life. Ada isn't hiding it that and at this point, she isn't even sure if the girl is trying. Even though Thomas hasn't said anything she knows he suspects as well. Bringing it up though means he would actually have to start and engage in a meaningful conversation.

"I hope you're being careful, Ada." She decides on it. She has no right to scold, but the last thing she wants is Ada to be saddled with a baby and the names. The woman is always punished, never the man.

Ada scoffs. "As careful as you and my brother were."

"Ada!" Evelyn snaps.

Another thing about Ada is that she is a child. The indulges that the boys, especially Thomas, had allowed and been complicit in raising Ada had sometimes made her an entitled spoiled brat some days.

"Just because your brother hasn't said anything doesn't mean he doesn't know. So if you want to make a fool of yourself by all means."

Evelyn grips her basket tighter and walks away from Ada. It's only seconds later when she hears the clicking of heels against the pavement.

"I'm sorry, Evie."

Evelyn sniffs.

"I mean it. You're the best thing that has happened to Thomas. Our family."

Evelyn bristles. "I highly doubt that."

Ada grips her arm and pulls her to a stop. "No, I mean it. I just...I see you and Tommy…"Evelyn softens. Deep down, she knows Ada just wants that fairytale romance. She wants the devotion she has seen her brothers give to their causes that mean dear to their hearts. "You'll get that Ada...someday. But I don't like you're hiding this mystery man. You don't deserve that. Yet, I know how your brothers are.”

A small smile escapes Ada's lips. It seems a weight has been lifted off her shoulders.

"I won't ask, Ada. But I don't want to be lied to. You can come to me with anything. I would hate to see you get yourself in trouble."

"So you won't tell Tommy?"

"Ada, do you think I tell him everything?"

"Yes." Evelyn frowns. She looks at her sister-in-law in the eyes. "Ada, I'm loyal to Tommy, yes. If he asks me something I'm not going to lie and I hope the same of him. Yet, he doesn't need to know everything. Some things can be simply answered with a yes or no. I trust your brother enough that he knows not to put me in that position considering how much I value our relationship."

"So you're saying there is room for secrets in relationships," Ada questions.

"Everyone has secrets, Ada. You will be sure to remember that."

"This is a dreary conversation for sure," Ada quips.

Evelyn chuckles.

"How about we go to the pictures?" Ada suggests. "The house can survive a few more hours without you."

"Oh, Ada, you've spoken like a true single woman."

It wasn't just one picture they ended up seeing but a few. It even resulted in them treating themselves to some fish and chips. Evelyn doesn't know what happened with Ada earlier in the day, but it seemed she needed her spirits lifted.

Ada is most like Tommy. She wasn't oblivious to Ada's line of questioning. Whoever Ada is seeing, Tommy won't like. Ada was testing the loyalty she had to her.

Evelyn knows down the line this will potentially blow up in all of their faces. She hopes it's only some type of copper Ada is seeing.

Ada is drunk with joy as she speaks of plans for them to go dress shopping. Maybe even swindle a trip to London to be pampered just the two of them.

Evelyn doesn't object. She doesn't know how Thomas would feel about it. Even more embarrassing she doesn't know if she could handle a night away from her boys. Yet, the shop had been making more money. The boys were seeing more income. A nice trip away from Small Heath would be nice.

The street is filled with the neighborhood kids playing on Watery Lane. They enter the home and make their way to the kitchen.

"Where the fuck have you been all day?" Thomas snaps as his blue eyes land on her. He throws his cigarette into an ashtray.

Ada's eyes widen at Thomas' tone. Evelyn furrows her brows. "I had to go to the market -"

"And that took all day?"

Ada opens her mouth. "Tommy, its my -"

"Stay out of it, Ada."

Evelyn sighs as she places her basket on the table. "It's fine, Ada."

Ada looks between them both, but in the end, she decides to leave the room. She throws Evelyn a remorseful glance before heading up the stairs. Evelyn gives her a closed-mouth smile.

Evelyn stands straight as she looks at her husband. "Was there a problem, Thomas?

""My problem is me wife doesn't see fit to inform me of where's she going and leaves the children unattended."

"Like you couldn't find me if you wanted to," she fires back.

"And what about the kids, ay. Running through the house every five minutes, distracting me from work."

"Like it would hurt you to spend more than five minutes with your son!" Evelyn shouts.

"You mind your tone with me," Thomas threatens.

"Or what!" She counters. "I have a life outside of this family."

"Oi, what life is that?" Thomas questions. "I know Ada is out here making a fool of herself. Don't think I don't know. So what is me wife doing out here, ey?"

"What the fuck are you even on about!" Evelyn sputters. She has no idea what he is even talking about. "I'm not the one out here cutting and beating people. If anyone has the right to question anyone in this household it should be me."

"For the love of God, what is going on in here?" Polly asks as she enters the room from the betting shop. "The whole bloody neighborhood can hear you two."

"Mind yer business, Pol." Thomas tells her.

"Pardon me?" Polly counters as she raises her eyebrows.

Evelyn releases a cold chuckle. "Don't mind him, Polly, Thomas is under the impression the whole world is out to get him. He isn't cursed with an all-seeing eye."

Thomas' nostrils flare. "Don't."

"Don't what. You're the one making baseless accusations about God knows what. If I didn't know any better I would say your drunk like your fucking father right now."

Evelyn watches as rage fills Thomas's eyes. Polly is quick to step in between the two. "Alright, that's enough. It's obviously a stressful day for the both of you."

Evelyn doesn't bother looking at either of them as she grabs her basket and heads upstairs. She doesn't even wince when the front door slams shut.

Both Finn and Jamie had been quiet for the rest of the night. Thomas doesn't make an appearance for dinner. Evelyn didn't expect him to. She thinks whatever his issue is with her, he wouldn't have it bleed over onto their kids.

If anything discourse between them was between closed doors always. She had made it known that she wanted to make sure Jamie never had to experience stilted silence or cold anger. Maybe it is her way of just babying their son, but she doesn't want him or Finn to experience that.

She and Thomas both grew up in rocky homes.

She tucks Finn into bed first. As much as he claims he is a big boy, she finds that he still enjoys the occasional coddling. She presses a kiss to his head before she makes her way across the room towards Jamie's bed. She knows that as of now the boys don't mind sharing. However, as they get older she can already imagine the headache they will bring when they want their own room and space.

Jamie is sitting up in bed and he has a pensive look on his face. It's a far too serious look for a 6-year-old. He looks like his father. She rubs her thumb in between his eyebrows. "What's wrong?"

"Are you and Daddy mad at each other?"

"We're a little upset, but we'll be okay."

"Tommy's always grumpy now," Finn says from his bed.

"Daddy doesn't smile like you do Mama," Jamie adds.

Evelyn gives him a sad smile as she addresses them both. "Remember what I said. Daddy may be a bit different from the war. War gives men trouble dreams."

"Like when I was scared Ada's doll was going to eat me!" Jamie exclaims.

Evelyn chuckles. "Yeah like that, and you know when you would wake up I would give you extra hugs and kisses to make you feel better. That's what daddy needs just some extra hugs and kisses."

"Can you sleep with me tonight, Mama?"

"Of course, baby," she agrees. "You can come over here to Finn."

The boy makes a mad dash over to Jamie's bed.

Evelyn knows her back is going to regret this, but she cherishes these small moments. She has Jamie spread across on her front while Finn is tucked into her side. It's a familiar position she had gotten used to once Jamie was born and she was a mother figure that Finn had latched onto. She inhales the scent of their youth and the chamomile soap she has them use.

When she wakes up in the morning with Jamie's hot sour breath wafting in her face and Finn nestled into her armpit, the smell of cigarettes and whiskey linger in the room.

He knows that before the move to Small Heath, he knew the love of his parents. Even after his dad died, his mother didn’t change. The love and attention were the same. Nothing seemed amiss. It wasn’t cold where they were at. He just didn’t understand the need to move them from the comfort of their kin. He didn’t see what Henry could provide that they didn’t already have. 

Yet, maybe, he could understand in ways. There were things - opportunities - that living in civilian life offered that traveling didn’t. He thinks his mom wanted to give him and his sister that life she never had. 

His sister, Evelyn, did deserve more opportunities than traveling could provide. The world was slowly becoming more progressive with the rights of women. His sister didn’t need to be married at 15 and popping out kid after kid to a husband, who wouldn’t do much for her. Evelyn could further her education. She could be somebody. 

Instead, the wishful thinking got them nowhere. 

He has been up in London. London was slowly becoming home. It is preferred over the smog of Small Heath. 

He is slowly making a name for himself in the boxing world. No losses yet. He is undefeated and with that came many connections to the criminal underbelly of the world. 

He is celebrating his 25th win when some scrawny, scrappy boy approaches him. The accent alone told him that it was someone from the Blinders coming to bug him. So, at first, he didn’t think too much of it. He knows Tommy would sometimes inquire about who ran what in London. He thinks the man is plotting expansion. Silas prefers not to entertain those ideas. The last thing he needs is to get involved in some stupid war about who owns the streets. 

Silas rolls his shoulders and tells the boy to spit it out. 

Yet nothing could have prepared him for the boy to come bearing the news that his sister was pregnant. Not only is she pregnant, but would soon be married to none other than Thomas fucking Shelby at 17 years old. 

1919

The first night Tommy couldn’t bother to look at himself. He couldn’t look at his hands. His hands couldn’t stop shaking. 

When he woke up, Evelyn’s grey eyes wide with terror, his hands tight on her neck, he knew he wasn’t dreaming. The one thing he feared since he returned home he had done. 

He ripped his way away and he could already see the redness - his fingerprints around her throat. She had coughed and heaved. And since women were so fucking stupid sometimes she had tried to comfort him. 

He could have fucking killed her. 

He had immediately grabbed his coat, boots, and his fucking opium and escaped to Charlie’s yard. 

The first night he was too high. For once, his nightmares weren’t of the shovels and those fucking tunnels. Instead, he found himself looking down at the still body of his wife. There was no smile, no life in her grey eyes. She was still with bruises of fingers around her neck. 

He had done that. He thought it was a brilliant idea to sign up for the war. Hell, he even volunteered to be a tunneler. 

Now, look at the damage done to his family. 

Charlie had left him alone for the first day. He was pretty sure that the smell of the Opium was enough reason for him to leave him be. Tommy stayed shoveling horse shit and tending to the horses while he tried to sort out the mud in his head. 

Arthur came back with the need for a constant drink. John was more or less the same, quick to use humor to deflect. Yet, Arthur and John can smile and laugh. 

He is the fucked up one. He is the only that couldn’t make sense of what the war had done to him. He had been close to death many times during the battles and the cold winters. 

He was sure he met death on a few occasions and maybe that is the problem. He has been afforded extra time. Look where that had got him. A kid that loved him and wanted to imitate him. A wife that wore pretty dresses with her added lace made by her hands. 

He has treated his wife like shit since his return. He avoided looking at her. Used her to ease the pain of the nightmares. He wanted to bury himself in her instead of being stuck in the tunnels. 

The second day, he decided he was going to do better. He would be there for his family. Find a way to make what happened right between the two. He knows talking won’t make him feel better, but it would make Evelyn. He would let her try to help even if he thought there was no use. 

Uncle Charlie just gave him a dirty look with an annoyed grunt. He was sure then that there was evidence of what he had done to Evelyn. 

Maybe he was being a coward by hiding out at Charlie’s, but he had nowhere fucking else to go. 

Today is the third day that he knows that he needs to go home. He smells like shit and he can only imagine what he looks like. He stands up from the hay bed and makes his way outside of the stable. He isn’t surprised to find Charlie sitting in a chair waiting for him. 

Tommy looks at his uncle before he grabs a cigarette. He only has three left in his pack. 

“Don’t be your fucking father,” Charlie tells him gravely. “You have a good wife and a healthy son. What the fuck are you doing, eh?”

Tommy wonders the same thing. What is he doing?

Tommy lights his cigarette. He doesn’t react to his uncle’s words as he makes his way back to Watery Lane. 

Watery Lane is eerily quiet as is the house. He enters where Polly is waiting for him. She is looking into the fire as she smokes one of her black cigarettes. He assumes everyone has been sent away while she waited for his return. 

Unlike Uncle Charlie, he knows Polly isn’t going to take his silence. 

He stands by her and chucks his cigarette in the fire. He barely has time to blink before his cheek is stinging from the force of her head. 

“Are they with you?”

“Like you deserve an answer,” Polly sneers as she moves away from the fire. “If it be me, she should take the boy and go. Not like you deserve her with the way you’ve been treating her.”

Polly gathers her things. He can tell his aunt wants to say more. He wonders what is holding her back as she isn’t one to soften words.  “Silas is back in town.”

She makes her grand exit by slamming the door.

The last thing he needs to deal with is fucking Silas. 

. . .

He's not surprised to find everyone gives him a wide berth at the shop. Polly gives him dirty looks, John looks at him in pity, and Arthur gives him a whole fucking attitude. 

He expected Evelyn to be gone for a few days. He prepared for it. It gave him time to try and figure out how to make it up to her. Yet as the week went by there was no trace of her. No word from her or the boys. He was left to fend for himself in the house. 

There was no Jamie or Finn eagerly waiting to greet him in the morning. Evelyn didn’t have his cigarette pack filled with a set of matches laying out for him for the day. She wasn’t tending to him with making sure he was eating and he had his glass of whiskey filled for him. The smell of honey that clings to her and the sheets and walls of their room was fading. 

It scared him to think of her absence. How much he felt it. 

He spends most of his nights drunk or in an Opium induced haze. 

The war would be a welcomed nightmare to the loneliness he feels in his bed.

It's nearing a week since that fateful night when a knock comes at the door. Polly and his brothers already left for the day. He doesn't even know where Ada rests her head these days. 

He is going to ignore the door until a more powerful knock comes. He sighs and makes his way to the door. His face is blank, but his eyes widen at the sight of Silas on the other side. 

Silas doesn't seem to like being a messenger. 

"Daddy!" Jamie shouts and hugs his legs. 

Tommy picks up Jamie, who hugs him tightly around the neck. At least his son misses him.  "You have fun with your Uncle?"

Jamie nods his head. "He gots us lots of presents."

"Where's Finn?"

"Wit the preacher. Staying the night. He'll be over tomorrow," Silas answers. 

Tommy nods his head and he puts Jamie down. "You hungry?"

"Already ate," Silas answers again for his nephew.

Tommy pats Jamie's head. "Why don't you head inside. I gotta talk to your uncle."

Jamie doesn't give any objection. He gives his uncle a hug before dashing into the house. 

Tommy looks at his brother-in-law. The two weren't exactly friendly. Silas had always been Arthur’s friend. Any friendless they may have had was stilted by him getting Evelyn pregnant. 

Silas is a menacing figure. It made sense he was making a name for himself in the underground boxing world. He knows the man has aspirations to go professional. Silas is nearly there. 

It is strange though seeing Silas after all this time. He never thought Silas and Evelyn shared any physical similarities. They share the midnight black hair and piercing silver eyes. 

Those silver eyes that saw right through him some days. 

"She staying with you?"

Silas eyes him silently. He can tell the man is fighting the urge to get physical not like Tommy would stop him. 

"We'll talk later," Silas says before walking away. 

Tommy sighs as he walks back into the house. He is starting to get irritated that no one will tell him where his fucking wife is. He isn't surprised to find Jamie peeking around the corner. The boy smiles shyly. It's the same smile Evelyn gives when she is embarrassed with attention or when she gets caught doing something unladylike. 

He walks towards his son. "You having fun with your uncle, yeah."

Jamie nods his head. "Mommy scolded him for buying me too much sweets!"

Tommy smiles. "I bet Silas got a proper scolding."

Jamie giggles as they enter the front room. Tommy sits on the couch and Jamie climbs onto his lap. 

His son is six now and he knows in a few years he will be like Finn and won't seek solace from him anymore. Any comfort needed would be in private in the care of Evelyn. 

As his son ages, the childlike wonder of him will fade. Jamie will see the flaw of him as a man. 

"Are you going away, Daddy?"

"What makes you ask that?"

Jamie begins playing with the buttons on his waistcoat. "Mama cries like when you were away."

Tommy runs his hand through his son's head. His chest tightens. He always hated seeing Evelyn in pain and he was the cause of it this time. He forces his son to look at him. He won't promise his son that he won't be gone. He can't promise that in his life. 

"Daddy did something that hurt, Mommy. I made her sad." He explains. 

"Did you say sorry?"

Tommy doesn't want to tell his son that he doesn’t know-how. He doesn't know what he can do to make up for what he has done. 

"Sometimes words aren't always enough with your mom."

"I don't want you to go away again," Jamie tells him. 

"Me either."

Jamie eyes him and seems to accept his words. Tommy isn't prepared for where the conversation turns. "Finn said you're going to give Mama a baby."

Tommy raises an eyebrow. "How'd you feel about that."

Jamie shrugs. "I don't know. I don't like sharing me toys."

Tommy snorts. 

Jamie looks at him squarely in the eyes. It’s a look he imagines he gives a lot of people in this town, "Are you giving Mama a new baby?"

"Your mom will know that better than me."

"But if it’s a gift how would she know?"

"I'll explain when you're older."

Jamie looks at him blankly. Tommy imagines this is what people see with his silent stares. "That's what everyone says. I'm six years old!"

"Oi, are yeah? I guess those new toys should go to a new baby. Little kids don't play with toys."

Tommy fights the urge not to laugh at the look of mortification on his son's face. Tommy presses a kiss to his head. 

He knows this innocence will be snuffed out one day. Most likely by him. 

That night high off the opium, he drowns out an older Jamie screaming that he hates him.

. . .

Tommy wakes up in the morning to find Polly making breakfast in the kitchen. He's under no illusion that the spread being made is for him. Polly is content to let him starve. It's all for Jamie. 

Polly is fine ignoring him as he moves to make himself a cup of tea. 

"How is she?"

Polly flips over an egg. "Better she's away. Although I believe you should see what you've done."

Leave it to Polly not to mince words. He is prepared to leave it at that. He knows he can ask everyone how Evelyn is doing, but it doesn’t change that he needs to see her for himself. She needs to be the one to set the terms on how he can do his penance. 

"You've got a good thing, Thomas. A beautiful family and a wife that loves you. She understands this family - understands you."

"You think I don't know that?" Tommy inquires. 

Polly chuckles. She turns her dark all-knowing eyes on him. He knows his aunt can see and sense things. She knows how to wade through someone for ulterior motives. 

"Oh, I know you know. So it makes sense what you're doing. You're a man that needs a woman, Thomas. Keeps that neck of yours from turning too sharply in a certain direction."

“You’ve got me all figured out,” Tommy drawls. 

“The war is over Thomas. Let your wife soothe the one that is in your mind. If you don’t, you’ll never forgive yourself.”

Thomas lights a cigarette when a knock comes at the door and it is immediately opened. 

"Thomas Shelby, let me see this horse of yours."

Tommy grunts at the sound of Silas. He doesn't miss Polly's smirk.

Tommy heads to the front and grabs his coat. Silas is standing outside on the streets of Watery Lane. There are no kids out yet and it’s just the two men on the street. 

His eyes take in Silas. The man is physically bigger than him and all his brothers. The man has always held a bulkier build, which he knows helps him with boxing. He is sure the man’s build was also an advantage during the war. He had only seen Silas a couple of times during the war. Brief exchanges he could barely remember. 

The last time was when they had to take Freddy to the infirmary tents for taking that bullet for him. Silas was there for losing the tips to his ring and middle fingers on his right hand. 

The sparse visits were how Tommy would describe Silas’ presence in his family life to begin with. Silas is a gypsy. Tommy knows the man won’t probably ever settle down. Boxing allows him to travel, but with warm beds for the night. 

Silas’ visits are also never consistent. Tommy thinks it’s fitting Silas would decide to blow through town during all of this. Yet, Tommy knows he is the one to blame for that one. He had sent word to Silas he wanted to talk. Yet, his brother-in-law never responded. Tommy guesses this is all his back fucking karma. 

The two don’t talk as they make their way to Charlie’s. 

“Thought you would have more horses,” Silas says after looking at Mohangan boy

“Need money for that.”

Silas stuffs his hands in his coat pockets. “Is that why you wanted to talk? Thinking about earning money in betting on fights more?”

Betting on boxing was more of Arthur’s and Finn’s thing. Tommy never cared for the sport. Maybe down the line, he thinks it could be useful. 

“ I hear a lot of people go to your fights. People with connections.”

“And who are you trying to meet?”

“I just want to know if I would be welcomed,” Tommy counters. 

“I’m not stupid, you don’t like to share power. It’s my neck on the line if I advertised my brother in law is a fucking gangster and he is making power plays.”

“You know I would never jeopardize your place in the boxing world.”

“We need to settle family business before I even think about helping you in your little power plays.”

Tommy lights a cigarette. “This conversation feels familiar.”

Silas turns murderous. “This isn’t a laughing matter. I come to visit my sister only to find out that you fucking strangled her! Of course, the excuse is Tommy is different from the war. He didn’t mean it. Excuse after fucking excuse.”

“You know I would never put -”

“Well, you fucking did!” Silas yells. “For three days you didn’t show up! What’s the excuse?”

“I don’t have an excuse,” Tommy tells him truthfully. 

“You can’t let the war eat you up like that. You came home, Tommy.”

Tommy takes a long drag of his cigarette. He should have seen it coming, but he stumbles as Silas lands a solid punch to his mouth. His teeth cut his gums and his lip is split. He spits out the blood. 

“You want to take out what happened on the world do it. I don’t care. But you don’t take that shit on my sister.” Silas claps his hands. “Now, let’s go to the Garrison, it is all on you tonight.”

. . .

Silas and he go to the Garrison. It’s loud and rowdy.  Arthur is there and already drunk off his arse. 

“Oi, is that me baby brother,” Arthur shouts as he makes his way over.  Arthur pauses as he looks at his split lip. He pats him on the shoulder before wrapping his arm around his shoulder. “We need to talk.”

Arthur leads him into the snug. 

“Little brother,” Arthur slurs. 

“Arthur,” Tommy replies. 

“I’ve seen Evelyn,” Arthur informs him. 

“Is she okay?” If anyone would give him an answer it would be Arthur. 

“You know your wife, Tom. She is stronger than most women. She’s alright,” Arthur tells him. His eyes are glossy. 

“She say when she is coming home?”

“A couple of days. She doesn’t want to keep Jamie and Finn away for too long.”

Tommy nods his head. 

“You know Tom, Evie is a good woman.”

“I know.”

“Most men having nothing to come home to. You have a healthy son and a wife. Women will never understand war, but Evelyn will understand you.”

Tommy nods his head. Arthur smiles. 

“Silas got you good. I expected worse.”

Tommy scoffs as they make their way back to the public. Tommy takes his Irish whiskey and joins the men in the lively banter. He doesn’t enjoy it too much as he still has no wife to come home to. Yet, the warmth of the drink provides him some comfort. Maybe he will have Arthur and Silas take him to Evelyn. Maybe drunken words would make her come home sooner. 

He is enjoying a glass of Irish whiskey when his slightly good buzz is ruined by a newcomer. 

“Haven’t seen Evelyn and Jamie in a couple of weeks.”

Tommy looks through the mirror at Duncan’s reflection. He knows he had allowed this man too much freedom of speech when it came to his wife. Tommy is well aware this man wants his wife. He also knows the man has been warned many times about his loose tongue.

 He takes a drag of his cigarette. He can tell his silence unnerves him. 

Duncan steps closer. “Didn’t take you for a jealous man, Thomas.”

Tommy blows smoke in Duncan’s face as he places his cigarette in the ashtray. “What is it that you’re implying of me wife?”

Duncan’s lips tug into a smile. “She wouldn’t have to seek attention elsewhere if she was getting it at home.”

Tommy thinks the Garrison becomes the quietest it has ever been with a room of drunken men. 

The cap that was resting on the bar top is in his hands immediately as he takes his first swipe. 

Sometimes, the cutting feels too easy. The flesh is easy to slice through - too easy. There is no resistance. The lack of resistance is a stark reminder of their fragile mortality. 

He drowns out the sounds of Duncan’s screams. The man needs to learn this lesson. He had given too many clearances. 

He grabs the man’s tongue and that’s when Arthur and Silas converge. 

They try to pull him off the man, who is bloody and lying still. Tommy thinks he can smell piss mixed with the alcohol and blood.  

It’s only then he realizes it wasn’t Duncan screaming but him. 

He is scared someday that she will fall over due to how big her stomach is. His wife is a tiny thing and even he is worried about how she is going to push out their son. 

He opens his eyes and finds her pacing in front of the window. There is a chill in the room. He assumes she is having a hot flash. 

He eyes Evelyn silently. He finds it often he would just take her in. If someone would have told him a year ago he would be married with a kid he would have laughed. 

He knew marriage was a prospect that would happen someday. He just didn't think it would be this soon, or with Evelyn Maxwell. 

He is relieved she has blended in with the family with ease. It helps that they were all familiar with each other. He knows her from her brother, Silas, being friends with Arthur. Besides, both being of gypsy descent they had a kinship with each other. 

He had expected his life to take a drastic change with a wife. 

Yet, the changes that are happening were gradual and soft. Soft like the woman before him. He always admired the softness that women carried in themselves. It was hard to see in his household considering his father beat it away with his mother. Aunt Pol was more of a drill sergeant. 

Yet with Evelyn, he is able to admire that softness unreserved from the way she would place her layers of clothes on, how she moves so freely around the house, or when it was just the two of them in their room and her hands would trace his scars. Her hands are not withered from harsh work. He knows the one splurge she indulges in is some fancy cream to maintain the integrity of her skin.

"What's got you worried now?"

Evelyn jumps startled. She stops her pacing. "I'm sorry did I wake you?"

Thomas shakes his head as he gets out of bed. "You gonna tell me what's wrong with me girl?"

Evelyn sighs. Her hand caresses her belly as she turns to look out the window. She doesn't answer. 

He stands behind her. He wraps his arms around her and his hands rest on her belly. He is rewarded with a kick to his palm. It still weirds him out how her stomach contorts with the movement. He rubs a soothing circle on the area where their son is playing football. "The babe keeping you up?"

"No more than usual."

"But not tonight?"

Evelyn blows a raspberry. She seems reluctant to answer. 

"C'mon, tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours."

"So you think I'm pretty?"

"Beautiful," he tells her honestly.

"Even when I look like a cow."

"I don't think I could describe how beautiful you look swollen with my seed."

He thinks there are no words. When he looks at her, he thinks of the statue of Mother Mary at church, and how the light retracts around her from the stained glass windows when the sun is at its peak. She looks ethereal as if she didn't belong on this earth. His hands are too poor, too dirty, to even touch her skin.

"Will you be mad if it's not a boy?"

He shakes his head. "All I want is a healthy babe and for me wife to be healthy and safe."

"If something were to happen -"

Thomas makes a noise in his throat interrupting her. "Don't speak like that."

"Thomas-"

"I won't hear of it, Evelyn."

Evelyn closes her lips. Christ, he doesn't even want her to speak it into existence. He couldn't bear the thought of something happening during the birth.

He sighs and presses a kiss to the top of her head. "I can't bear the thought. The thought of it...it rips my soul that I wouldn't be able to do anything. It would be out of my control," he admits. "I love ya. So you're going to be here with me celebrating all the holidays and birthdays and changing shitty nappies."

He is startled when she turns in his arms. Her belly presses against his. "Do you realize what you just said?"

He looks at her blankly. 

"Oh, you men!"

He is alarmed to see anger in her eyes. 

"What did I say?"

She slaps his chest. 

"Eh, what was that for?"

"You just said you loved me for the first time and don't even remember even saying it!"

Thomas fights the urge to laugh and shake common sense in his wife. "You silly woman. You thought all these months that I didn't love you. I practically tell you every day!"

"Not with words you don’t!"

Thomas snorts and pulls her into him as much as he can as he presses his forehead against hers. "I love you, yeah."

He presses a kiss to her lips. "By the way, I have yet to hear it out of your pretty lips."

"You know I love you."

 "Let me hear you say it."

"I love you, Thomas Michael Shelby."

Thomas smiles and gives her another kiss.

He looks down and notices her nipples peeking through the fabric. "You know the cold probably isn't good for you and the babe."

He looks into her hooded eyes. The grey reminds him of molten silver. 

He pulls her away from the window without resistance. 

James Alexander Shelby is born 16 hours later. 

1919 

Being away for four years, Thomas is ashamed to admit he didn't feel much like a father or even a husband. He barely felt like a man some days. 

In the war, the tunnels, he kept the picture Evelyn had sent of her and Jamie close. He stared at it constantly to remember what he had to go home to. To not forget the love he had for his family. The dreams he had for them. 

He held the picture as it became withered and torn at the edges. He held it to remember the feeling of Evelyn's silky hair. The sound of her laughter and her small hushed moans. The way she smelled of vanilla and honey. He tried to remember the feel of Jamie's small whispers of hairs against his lips. The sound of his giggles when you tickled his feet. 

Most importantly, he tried to remember the weight of them in his arms. How Jamie loved to be laid out across his chest and Evelyn loved to bury her face in his neck. He fought to remember how her breath would tickle his neck.

It was the smaller threads in his life he struggled to remember. How Evelyn always ran her fingers through his hair and the way her thumb would rub across his pulse on his neck. The way Jamie would cling to his legs and mimic him when he was working at his desk. 

So when seeing them as he stepped off the train and onto that platform, he wasn't going back home to a photo with old memories. He was going home to a wife and son that he didn't know anymore. His son was taller and spoke in full sentences. His wife was thinner and her grey eyes were dim. 

He didn't know what to do with that. 

Although it seemed whatever memories Jamie had of him was enough for the boy to want to be near him and spend time with him.

It is a Saturday and with him just buying a horse, he decides to head to Charlie's Yard. Evelyn had lightly suggested that Jamie would love to tag along. He watched as his boy's eyes lit up. It does warm his heart that his son seems to share his love of horses. 

Evelyn has sent them with sandwiches, enough to feed a stable and more, some juice, and a kiss to both their cheeks blessing them for a good day. 

He has to admit his son is well-behaved for the most part. He doesn't forget how he and Finn had wandered to the Cut by themselves. He knows this is only a prelude to the trouble a teenage Finn and Jamie will find themselves in. 

When it comes to the horses, his son takes it very seriously. He remembers Evelyn mentioning in one of her letters that Curly and Charlie were teaching him how to care for horses. Charlie would take Jamie for the day and come back smelling as if he was rolling around in the horse shit. He smiles remembering those letters and the small sloppy tidbits that Jamie would draw and write. 

However, it is nice seeing his son work diligently between him and Curly. His little hands carry the buckets, rake the hay, and brush the manes for the horses. He even braids one to match his Mama he tells him.  

He is even taken back by Jamie’s soft orders in Shelta as he speaks gently to the horses. 

Thomas makes them take a break for lunch and moves them over to where Charlie keeps some tables and benches. 

"Your mom take you here a lot when I was away?" He asks his son.  

Jamie nods his head. "Or sometimes Uncle Charlie would take me especially when Mama was sad."

"When she was sad?"

"She would cry in her room and none of my hugs or kisses would work. So Uncle Charlie would take me and when I came back Mama was happy again."

Tommy doesn't like the feeling swirling in his gut. It reminds him of his mother at the end. Uncle Charlie always knew when to come in and distract them as kids and lift his mother's spirit.

"You want a horse of your own?

"Mama says I'm too little," he tells petulantly. His nose scrunches up as Evelyn does when she is annoyed, or in a very righteous mood. It’s a look that he has been seeing a lot these days. "Says I can get a pony. But I don't want a pony those are for girls."

Tommy fights the snorts as he lights his cigarette. "I'll talk to your mom about it."

Jamie smiles and his bright blue eyes shine through the smog of Birmingham. The boy is the spitting image of his mother except for those eyes. He remembers Evelyn telling him Jamie would have his eyes. Thomas never thought about the minuscule details of what their child would look like. He always maintained that he just wanted the child to be safe - healthy. He isn’t ignorant that childbirth is one of the most dangerous things exclusive to women. 

As he looks at his son, Jamie has his eyes from before the war. Untainted. 

Even then, he knew Evelyn wasn't referring to their color. Jamie would see the world from the lens that he does. 

He doesn't want that for his son. 

. . . . . .

Thomas makes Jamie do a quick wash of his hands and face before going home. 

It is getting close to dinner time. He didn't expect to spend his whole day in Charlie's Yard, but he knew the trip was needed to bond with his son. 

Jamie tugs on his hand. "Can we get fish and chips with Mama?"

"No Finn?"

Jamie gets a sheepish look on his face. "Sometimes I don't like sharing Mama."

Christ, even his boy is possessive like him. He wonders how Jamie would take it if they were blessed with more kids. He has been surprised Evelyn hasn't brought him the news they were expecting. He would be happy, but he is relieved as he wants them to be in a bigger place before expanding their family. 

Tommy pats his son's head. "I know it's hard having to share yer mom, but me and your uncles are back so it'll give you some more time with her, alright."

Jamie nods his head.

He lets out a grunt when someone slams into him. He is instantly annoyed that the person was even in their way, to begin with. 

"Are you alright, Daddy?"

Tommy swipes a hand down his suit. "I'm alright, son."

Tommy looks up and eyes the dark hair fellow before him. He knows who this man is and also what is being whispered behind his back about this man.

"Hi, Mr. Hayes," Jamie greets cheerily. 

Tommy stares blankly as the man crouches down and greets his son. He doesn't miss the man passing him some candy. 

"Mr. Hayes, this is me daddy. He is home now!" Jamie exclaims with his childlike excitement. 

Duncan stands tall and extends his hand. "I've heard about ye."

Tommy debates not shaking the man's hand, but he does since his son is in front of him. Tommy accepts the handshake. At least the man has a strong grip before he pulls away. 

"Funny, never heard of you," Tommy retorts as he goes in his pockets for cigarettes and lights one.

He holds the man's stare. 

"Daddy is going to take Mama and me to get fish and chips!" Jamie tells the man. 

"Well, I guess I won't keep ya then." Duncan gives Jamie a smile, but his face goes blank as he looks at him. "Nice to meet you, Thomas."

"I thought only Mama called you Thomas, Daddy," Jamie asks confused. 

"She is, but it seems I'm going to have to teach him a listen, ey?"

When they enter the house, he finds Evelyn in the living room with Ada. There is fabric, needles, and yarns scattered about. Ada makes a big production of swiping the fabric Evelyn had in her hands out of his view. From the quick glance he got, it seems like some sort of fancy silk slip. Now he knows for sure there is some type of man in his sister's life. 

Before he can question anything, Evelyn ropes in Jamie to deflect. 

"Did you have fun today with Daddy?"

Jamie beams as he runs into his mother's arms. "Daddy said I can get a horse. Not a pony," he tells her sternly in a perfect imitation of him. 

Evelyn raises her eyebrows as she looks at him. "Oh did he?"

"I said we'll talk about it," he tells her as he eyes the living room. "And what was going on in here?"

"Thomas -" Evelyn begins.

"Let me see it, Ada," he orders. 

Ada throws him an annoyed look, but she doesn't fight him. It just makes him all the more suspicious. It's a silk pink slip and there is a lace trimming pinned to it. He furrows his brows. 

"If you didn't know your wife is good at needlework. I wanted her to embellish this for me by adding the lace," Ada informs him and he watches as Evelyn looks embarrassed. "I'm pretty sure you probably don't take long enough to admire the small designs she added to hers."

Tommy is a bit embarrassed he doesn't know about his wife's talent. He knows she tries to hide her interest in all the high fashions. They are too poor to own many fancy things. There are splurges here and there. They are doing better now after the war than before since he is drumming up new business as much as he can. He even has plans to turn their betting shop legitimate. He knows his wife likes the delicate lacy things, he is privy to that knowledge. He just didn't know her hands are the ones making them. 

"And why would you need them, Ada? Last time I checked there wasn't any husband needing the knowledge of your lacy trims."

Ada snatches the fabric out of his hands. "Why do you wear your suits, Tommy?"

Tommy doesn't answer as Jamie exclaims he is hungry. "Can I trust you to feed yourself and Finn?" He says instead. 

"We'll head over to Aunt Polly's," Ada tells him as she heads upstairs.

"And where are we going?" Evelyn asks him.

"Jamie wants fish and chips for dinner."

Evelyn looks at their son and tickles his belly. "Aren't you being spoiled today?"

It's strange going out together as a family. Since he's been home, they all haven't been out together since their outing at church and to her parents. 

He knows everyone is aware of who the Shelbys are. He and his brother own the streets and offer these people protection. Yet, it's different having people lower their heads in respect than offering murmurs of how they are a beautiful family. 

He knows he is one of the lucky ones. He was able to come home with his brothers and his wife and son. But at what cost?

People greet his wife freely and he wonders if it’s because he is by her side. People respect him out of fear. He knows all about how his peers view him with their gypsy blood. He knows Evelyn and her brother, Silas, had it worse. They lived the traveling ways before being plucked into civilization. 

He knows how people whisper behind her back. He knows they gossip about her being some gypsy witch who can curse someone with the look of an eye. He can laugh about it some days, but he knows deep down that she can speak something into existence as his own grandmother did. 

Dinner itself is quiet and calm. He prefers his cigarette to the food. His son causes a mess with his greasy hands and the crumbs that fall all over his chest. His cigarette hides his smile as Evelyn scolds the boy softly for being so messy. 

Jamie only giggles before he stands up in his seat and plants a greasy kiss on her cheek.

He doesn't have it in him to scold the boy. He is clearly excited about having his parents together and Tommy could give a fuck about what the other customers may be thinking. 

Besides, he dares any one of them to say a dirty remark. He would cut out their tongues without a second thought. 

. . . . . 

When they arrived home, the house is quiet. He assumes Ada and Finn are still at Polly's. 

Jamie had fallen asleep in his arms as soon as they left the shop. He passes the boy into Evelyn's arms as she takes him to lay in bed. 

He opts to stay downstairs. He grabs a whiskey and smokes another cigarette. 

He does a walk-through of the betting shop before he trudges his way up the stairs. 

As he enters the room, Evelyn is already in her nightgown. She is at her small dressing table as she lets her hair out of her updo. He watches as her black hair falls down in waves across her shoulder. He relishes in the sigh it emits from her lips. 

He begins emptying his pockets when she stands before him. 

Her hands replace his as she begins to assist him. 

"Thank you for dinner," she tells him softly. 

He nods his head as she helps him remove his jacket. She begins removing his waistcoat next. 

It's a routine that he missed, and he doesn't know why he has been avoiding it. 

It's quiet as she removes his various items of clothing. He eyes the slip she is wearing and the intricate lace trimming.

It's moments like these that he knows he is lucky. He knows there are men out there that don't appreciate their wives or their wives don't appreciate them. 

He hears stories of the pretty wives that look good on their arms, but lack in other areas, and their looks fade as they age. 

Evelyn is as beautiful as he remembered. Even as they were young, she had stood out with her striking grey eyes and long dark hair. As she ages, her beauty only gets more refined. 

As much as the city would whisper about her wicked grey eyes, he knows men would have no problem taking the chance of being cursed. He is sure if she was the wife of any other man there would be plenty of men willing to break their vows with her. 

His wife could have anyone and it still baffles she chose him. She spoiled herself with him and gave him his child. 

Her question interrupts his musings. "Do you want to shave?"

"In the morning."

She gives him a soft smile as she grabs his discarded things and begins folding them. 

He grabs another cigarette and stands by the window.

"I met Duncan Hayes today," he tells her. He watches in the reflection and she doesn't seem bothered by the mention of his name.

"He owns the sweet shop," she tells him.

"Jamie seems comfortable around him."

That has her pausing in her actions. She folds his pants and stands straighter. "What are you really asking me?"

"I don't want you going to his shop."

She scoffs. "Don't be ridiculous."

Tommy turns to stare at her fully. "I fucking mean it, Evelyn."

"Why? What's the reason you're forbidding me from going to the sweet shop?"

"You fucking know why. Do you think I like going to the Garrison or around town and hearing how this fucking Duncan Hayes is sweet on me wife? How she makes weekly visits with me son to visit him."

"And you believe those drunken bastards that call me a witch and can't even look me in the eye. But when your back is turn would be tempted to pull at my skirt if they didn't fear you would cut their hands off?"

"The fucking point is that Duncan Hayes is too familiar with me son and me wife."

"Familiar?" Evelyn releases a bitter laugh. Her eyes narrow into slits. "If you didn't know by now you're the only man I have ever let in between my thighs and look where that fucking got me."

Evelyn gets under the covers and turns so her back is facing him. 

Thomas sighs and finishes his cigarette. He runs his hands through his hair and he realizes his hands are shaking. He slides back on his pants and grabs his coat and his wooden box of his medicine.

He heads to Charlie's yard and smokes his Opium. He dreams of Evelyn being trapped down in those fucking tunnels and he can’t save her. 

Tommy heads to Garrison. He needs a drink before having to tell his son that his beautiful horse was dead. He knows that he could make up some lie about the horse being sick and needed to go away, but what good would that do.

The lights are still on at the Pub and he bangs on the door.

The door opens and he pushes his way through. “We're closed, Mr. Shelby,” the posh voice of the barmaid rings out.

“Just get me a drink.”

“Shall I leave you alone?”

Tommy sighs. She always has fucking questions. “Where's Harry?”

“He took the night off. Went to the pictures,” she informs him as she slides his favorite whiskey in front of him.

Tommy grabs a cigarette from the open pack lying on the table.

“How's your beautiful horse?”

Tommy pauses his search for the cigarette as he leans back in his chair. He looks at the barmaid. “I just put a bullet in his head.”

“Was he lame?”

“He looked at me the wrong way. It's not a good idea to look at Tommy Shelby the wrong way.”

He watches as her blue eyes look away from him nervously. Good, he thinks. Let her be intimidated by him.

“People say the same thing about your wife,” she says hesitantly.

Tommy raises an eyebrow. Maybe it’s not him that has her nervous. “Maybe you should heed their warnings.”

“She’s very pretty.”

“I know.”

“Does your wife mind I’m going to the races with you?”

There is an edge to her voice. Almost arrogance to it. He lights his cigarette. “You’re going for me, not with me.”

He watches as that arrogance dims a little. She must be really stupid if he thinks he would openly step out on his wife. Besides, if Grace doesn’t take his warning, that’s on her. He isn’t going to stop Evelyn from handling the situation as she sees fit.

“And what am I doing at this race?”

“For £2, you'll do what I ask you to do.”

“I want three. If I'm meeting a king, I won't be wearing a cheap dress.” She fires back. “And I ask you to let me sing. It's part of the deal now, too.”

He bristles at the mention of the fucking singing.

“Saturday nights. Open and easy. Everyone gets to sing their song, just like we did in Dublin.”

“You never worked in Dublin. So don't lie to me,” he tells her. “My guess is, you're a girl from a good family who got herself pregnant.”

“It's not something I want known. You won't tell anyone my secret?”

“Do you think I tell people things?” He counters.

“I imagine you tell your wife things.”