Theodora had quickly become aware of Bash's attraction to anyone (and anything, at this rate) but her, but she didn't care. She found the man rather repulsive and slobbish. Had she have known this before marrying, she wouldn't have turned up to the town, let alone the church!

Her first week in Small Heath had been hellish. Ada, the only girl of the Shelby bunch was — well, a little devil, always messing with Theodora's things, placing them in different rooms, making the poor new girl think she was losing her mind.

Martha, the one who married John (poor soul), well, she was palatable, for the most part.

Unlike Ada, she was softer spoken but still undereducated in comparison to the Longleys. Of course, Dora wouldn't have ever said that to their faces - that would've gone against everything she had ever learnt in eloquence lessons.

"Oh 'eds up, posh tots on her way." A voice, seemingly belonging to Arthur whispered - albeit loudly.

Dora's eyes looked for her husband to say something, but once again he was nowhere to be seen. She could've sworn he spent more time with the horses than he did in his own house. In his own bed, even.

"If my husband was here, he wouldn't stand for that-"

As if on cue, the door opened slightly revealing a very chilly bash who was trying his hardest to sneak back into the house unnoticed. His entrance would've been easier to conceal if he had decided to climb through the window instead.

"Mornin'." His gruff voice called out once he noticed his inability to hide into the shadows.

Theodora did have to admit, though painfully, that the man she had married had great manners and was quite the gentleman - even if a caveman.

It wouldn't have surprised her if he had been at one of the debutant balls she had gone to as a young teen.

A moment or two passed in silence before the door swung open, this time recoiling off of the wall it had hit behind it. Finn hadn't quite grasped how door handles worked to carefully open doors, so he resorted to using brute force, or as much brute force as an almost six year old could use.

"Shoes off at the door, Finn." Bash called out, grabbing the child by the scruff of the coat neck, pulling him (gently) back to where Bash could help him take the shoes off.

He would've been a perfect father, Theodora thought silently, watching as the elder brother doted on the younger.

Bash's eyes glanced up towards his wife's face before falling back down to the ground, he still felt awkward around her and barely knew her. She made no effort to connect with him, and he tried - he did, but his efforts always fell on deaf ears.

Almost a month of trying and he gained nothing from it, bar a tired mouth from the one sided conversation.

"How's the horse?" Dora asked, causing Bash to almost flinch in surprise.

That had been the first time she had asked him a question about anything, it was more so surprising that she had done it with a room full of witnesses.

"Ole Faithful is old, but she's a Shelby's horse." He responded politely, his back now having turned so she faced it whilst he hung up coats and hid away the muddied shoes. 

If anything was to happen to that horse, a whole family would be devastated, losing her would destroy Finns morale and crush Bash's spirit. He had done so much for that horse in all of her lifetime, from training her to jump higher and higher to helping her deliver her offspring... even if helping did include just holding the bucket of his own vomit.

"... And that means?"

The tone that Dora had used as rather rude and condescending, even if she hadn't meant for it to be. However, the look on Bash's face was a tell-tale sign that he was quickly irritated by it- if not by her, definitely her words.

"It means that the horse is strong, because it's a Shelby's horse, how was that hard to grasp?" Ada quipped back, almost taking the words from Bash's mouth.

A silent scold came from Bash towards his sister, who raised up her hands on feign surrender before she vanished towards wherever their Aunt Pol had been hiding. Dora was almost taken aback by this but said nothing in terms of a thanks or even an acknowledgment before she scoffed and walked off to do whatever she had been doing for her entire time there.

After Arthur calmed down, and his laughter subsided, he and Thomas both noticed how deflated their little brother looked. It was as if someone had ripped out his heart, stomped on it a few times before placing it back in its cage.

Thomas had an inkling as to what was coming, he could almost tell from the way his brothers forehead wrinkled with conflict.

Bash's mouth opened like a fish at least three times from what John noticed before he had actually found words that worked with what he was feeling.

"Can't you lot not encourage her? It's hard enough to hear her bicker about you lot when I'm trying to sleep - let's all bear in mind that she won't even let me sleep in my own bed."

That was a slice of information that none of them had known, Martha empathised with the poor man- she remembered the last time John was sick, he had kicked her out of the room to make sure she didn't come down with the man-flu.

Of course, Martha couldn't have ever gotten sick with man-flu, but John didn't want to risk it.

"The money we make now looks legal, I'm banking it as Crawford sent an allowance to Theodora, and no one's questioned it yet and we - I - need it to stay that way." Bash finalised, before plonking himself right in between John and Arthur.

The look on Arthur's face was one of bewilderment, Tommys had recognition on his face and Johns blank face had been replaced with a small smile.

"So that's why you fucked yourself over? I thought you just wanted easy pus—"

A slap to the back of the head cut John off from finishing his sentence, Martha's face tingeing pink in embarrassment from what her husband was about to say.

"He's not Arthur." Tommy added in, causing Arthur to huff and puff for a minute before realising that it was ever so slightly accurate.

"I should really go and try and talk to Theodora again- if you hear screaming, get Aunt Pol."

With a nod of his head, Bash bid a silent goodbye to his vagabond group of brothers, heading up the stairs - trying his best to dodge all of the carnage that Finn had left in his wake.

An eerily silence almost echoed around the first floor, not even the sound of a squeaking floorboard could be heard.

It was unusual for it to be that quiet, even with Theodora added into the mix.

Doubt flooded Bash's mind, he knew talking to her about anything wouldn't be a good idea and it would more than likely turn into a shouting match with only one participant.

Again, he felt like a fool for being the only one to put effort in, but Aunt Pol said her pregnancy could've been messing with her ability to know when to talk to someone - of course... he did think that was just her making an excuse for his wife.

With a soft knock, Bash stood and waiting for a response- both of his hands clasped behind his back due to him being unsure what to do with them.

A muffled 'wait', came from the door followed by some shuffled footsteps. Of course, Bash waited where he was, only taking a small step backwards as his bedroom door swung open. A red-faced Dora placed one hand on her hip, her left brow raised.

As soon as his face registered in her mind, the raised brow fell back to its resting position, stepping to the side to let him in.

"You didn't have to knock, you know? This is still our room, yours and mine."

An almost uncontrollable desire to scoff passed through Bash before he was able to force a small smile onto his face. What she had said wasn't exactly true, she had asked him to knock when she first came to Small Heath and since then, he had been.

"I think we should talk." Was the first thing that Bash had said to his wife once he was finally in the room.

The door was pushed shut behind them both, keeping prying eyes and ears away.

"About?"

Now was the time for Bash to scoff, she was asking what they were to talk about as if she didn't already know.

"The lie of a life we're about to live. The fact that you do not try to get to know my family, or how you speak to me out of necessity instead of wanting to get to know me." Bash paused, sitting down by the window, allowing his eyes to glance out a few times before looking directly at Theodora who stood there with yet another bewildered look on her face.

She wasn't given time to talk, because Bash hadn't finished and since he was given a minute to talk, he would.

"I'm not interested in sleeping with you, or being an actual husband, I did you a favour, the least you could do is humour me sometimes by answering my questions."

Silence fell upon them both for what felt like the umpteenth time that day, and given the lack of talking from her partner, Theodora saw it as her time to talk.

"Fine. I'll answer your questions."

A sly smile began to etch its way onto Bash's face before it was quickly snubbed out by his hand rubbing his chin.

"Who is the baby's father?"