Lucille

She had never seen John Shelby look so nervous. His face was pale and his leg was shaking faster than ever- he looked as if he was going to be sick.

They- John, Polly, Arthur and Lucille- were gathered in the private room of the Garrison waiting, as always, for Tommy to show up on time. He was late by ten minutes. He was early in his books. But there was news to be shared, apparently, and though Lucille was surprised to be included, she knew it was John's mess that was going to be revealed. She had a feeling no one would like it.

Although the family felt secure enough to leave little Finn at the betting den as they talked in the Garrison, Lucille felt every nerve possible for leaving Adds there too, even if one of their cousins was there with them. She had noticed how Finn would act too, around his brothers. He acted old, as if he was as much apart of the mess as they were, but he was still a young boy. She wished they would treat him as such.

"I swear, one of these days he'll be early and we'll be late," she said, cutting through the silence. It had become too much to watch John wallow in the quietness, wringing his hat around his fingers until they were red.

"He'd be late to his own funeral, that man," Polly cut in with a snort.

"I won't complain about that."

The door swung open easily, though not pushed hard enough to send it screeching against its hinges and banging to the wall, as Arthur had done. Tommy stopped in purposefully, moving as if all eyes were immediately zoned on him. Because they were. They watched him pull out a cigarette, lean against the wall and look to John.

"Alright John, there's only one man guarding the house," he said, pausing to light the cigarette. They would wait. "And Adds and Finn are there. What's troubling you?"

John's eyes moved from his brother to his aunt. "Polly. You know what it's been like since Martha died."

She signed the cross. "God takes the best first."

"Truth is, my kids have been running bloody rings around me. Barefoot with the dogs." Tommy cut in, rushing him to leave the room.

"Give him ten bobs and new shoes. Alright?"

John clenched his teeth, not looking him in the eye. Tommy's abruptness annoyed them all. But as Lucille smacked him on the arm lightly, he barely flinched, instead sighing shortly and wiping the smirk from his face.

"Tommy, we'll be better to do this without you," Polly said, turning to the youngest. "Now what's your point?"

"What the kids need is a mother. So that's why I'm getting married."

Polly snorted, looking at him with wide eyes. But John was completely serious, and it was that fact that made them all look to each other, as if figuring out if he was playing a bizarre trick on them.

"Does this poor girl know you're going to marry her or are you just going to spring it on her all of a sudden?"

"I've already proposed and she said yes," John said.

"I think there's a shell about to land and go bang," Tommy said, trying to hide his smile and chuckle.

Lucille rolled her eyes. "No I think this is good John. If this is good for you then you should do it," she said. "What's her name?"

"It's er..." he glanced to his brothers. "It's Lizzie Stark."

Apparently that name was shocking to the Shelby family, as the three burst out laughing, their offbeat cackles filling the room promptly. Lucille furrowed her brows, but Polly didn't bother explaining.

"John. Lizzie Stark is a strong woman and I'm sure she provides a fine service for her customers," she began, every odd word being cut off by a snortling laugh.

"I won't hear the word!" John snapped.

"What word is that that John?"

Tommy had stopped his laughing, using the same low voice that could intimidate any stranger.

"You know what word."

"Everybody bloody knows," Arthur giggled.

"Everyone can go to hell."

"Whore? Prostitute, what about that one?"

Tommy stopped at the glare Lucille sent his way.

"Right, I want it known. If anyone calls her a whore again, I will push the barrel of my gun in down their throats and blow the words back out the other way!" John pushed himself to his feet, the chair screeching beneath his strength.

"Men and their cocks never cease to amaze me," Polly said. "Lizzie Stark has never done a day's work vertical."

"She's changed. All right. People change," John insisted. "Like with religion."

"Lizzie Stark's got religion eh?"

"No. No she doesn't have religion but... she loves me." John's face dropped as he turned to his brother, speaking softly. "Now listen, Tommy. I won't do it without your blessing. But I want you to see it as brave, alright."

"Oh, It's brave alright."

"He's giving the woman a chance for gods sake," Lucille exclaimed.

"A chance of what?" Polly shook her head in disbelief. "Brave is going where no man has gone before. And with Lizzie Stark that is really not what you'll be doing."

"Giving her a chance of a life where she doesn't have to use her body to get by," Lucille said.

"And what would you know about that kind of life?"

Lucille didn't know Lizzie Stark. But she knew someone who had been in her position once. Amélie, her friend in France. She had been destitute until she found sex work, and had been stuck in it until she found a man that would marry her. But she loved him. Loved him enough to have his children. Eugene had loved her.

And if John could give this woman a chance, then why not? If he loved her, why not? But she supposed she didn't know the first thing about Lizzie Stark- not that the Shelbys had brilliant judgement.

"See. Please, Tommy. Welcome her to the family.," John pleaded. "As someone who's had a hard life, because I need someone. The kids need someone."

But no one had a chance to answer. Finn pushes through the room, searching with a pant as he shouted.

"Tommy, we've been done over!"

The rush back to Watery Lane was blur. Lucille's vision was red and white, like a burning flame. Finn had been there, but Adds. Her heart lurched at the thought of her baby.

She stepped slowly into the room after Polly, her head trailing the floor, trailing gradually at the sight of the broken chairs and scratched surfaces. No Adds.

"What the bloody hell happened here!"

"They've taken everything they could get they're hands on," Polly said. "Four cash boxes."

Arthur enteres the room again. "They left these."

"Wire cutters?"

"No one move," Tommy said lowly. "I think our friends are playing the game."

"What game?" Polly snapped.

But Lucille didn't care about a stupid game. At that moment she couldn't care less about the mess the family were in. There was no stronger feeling that a parent's panic over their child. There was nothing more dangerous than a mother without her child by her side.

"The children. Where are the children?" She snapped, stepping to the middle of the room after Polly.

"Lucille, Aunt Pol. Don't touch anything," John shouted, his arms outstretched.

"What's happening?"

Lucille felt numb, as if everything was fake around her, as if she was living in a nightmare. This couldn't be real. She felt a hand on her waist, pulling her down like an anchor.

"Step here, It's alright. Everything will be alright." It was Tommy's soothing voice.

"Erasmus Lee was in France," he said.

"Shit!"

"Listen. Whenever we have up ground to the Germans, we'd leave wire cutters as part of a joke. We'd leave booby traps," Tommy explained. "Somewhere in here there's a hand grenade."

She felt her legs go weak. Tommy pulled her tighter against his chest, scared she would fall at any moment. Adds.

"How are you so calm? Where are the children?" She said quickly, glaring at his chain-like hold.

"Don't move," Arthur said.

"No. Boys no." Tommy let her go and she staggered forward, out of balance. "It's not here. If it was here, it would have blown already. It's for me. They set up the trap just for me."

Tommy

Tommy had been in France, in a war, digging under trenches. He had seen such horrors, hideous cruelty that left him gasping at night at the memory. He had died, been given extra time all so he could relive them. Yet the feeling of terror washing through him as he realised that his daughter, his little brother, were to be casualties in a war that was his doing... it washed him bone-dry of sweat and heat. It was as if he had died yet again, turning into a corpse, so pale from sickness tainted by fear that he looked it too.

He moved swiftly, dodging messily through the rooms as he sprinted outside, to where he knew the trap would be. To his family in the room, it looked as if he had gone mad, not caring that a bomb was somewhere in that room. There was no sound of breaths in the room, as they all held it, waiting for the pain of an explosion to rip through their ears and shatter their bodies. But it never came, and Tommy didn't have it in him to tell them that it wouldn't, that the bomb wasn't even in the room. Even if he did, the words wouldn't have been able to pass his fumbling lips, no matter how much force he would put into it.

It had been left for him. The trap had been left for Tommy. And it would be those innocent children, his family, who would pay the price. But not if he could stop it.

His car sat at the edge of the lane. In it, was Adds and Finn, sharing the same seat and twisting the steering wheel as far as it could go. He didn't think he could speak, but he would force the words out, no matter how hard.

"Finn stay exactly where you are. Hold onto Adds." He stepped closer. "Finn, how did you get in the car?"

"I climbed in."

"I need you to climb out the same way, okay. Help Adds," Tommy said. "Nice and careful."

But Finn pushed the car door open, letting Adds waddle out first, not listening to a word that Tommy had said. A scream must have left his mouth. Tommy leapt forward, pushing them back as he fount the grenade and there it forward with a clearing shout. The force of the explosion rippled through the ground as the side of the factory blew up into whirls of thick smoke and burning flames.

He swept them up into his arms. He was shaking, he thought, but it didn't matter.

It was only then that he let himself think about Lucille, of the things she would be feeling. Tommy was sobbing silently, so quiet that no one would know. His shoulders didn't even move an inch.

"That's why you should never pretend to be me," he whispered, a woll owing back a choke of voice.

Tommy felt arms wrap around him and the children. Warm and comfortable arms. The arms of a mother. Lucille held them all tightly. She couldn't cry, he realised. Her eyes were dry in shock.

"You take me with you. I'll tell those bastards what will happen if they hurt my poor children."

My. He heard it. It warmed his heart, cured his cries. Lucille was as much a part of his family as his own brothers were. And Tommy knew then (he had known for a while, really) that this was the woman that he would marry one day.

"They're just kids," she whispered, and hugged them all harder.