☆

small heath, birmingham, 1913

IT WAS LATE AND EIGHT-YEAR-OLD CLARA SHELBY WAS utterly screwed. She was supposed to go straight home from school, she was supposed to help Aunt Pol with dinner, she was supposed to make no stops, yet here she was an hour and a half later, limping down Watery Lane.

She hadn't meant to be late. She hadn't meant to be sidetracked, but in all honesty, it wasn't entirely her fault. I mean if anyone were to get the blame it should be Jack Carlisle.

Jack Carlisle hated Clara Shelby, and she hated him— it was a mutual feeling, it was quite possibly the only thing they could both agree on. The boy liked to test her limits, especially after her older brothers went after his family for owed money. He liked to call Clara names, to tease her and harass her. He liked to throw punches, usually earning him a fair fight from the young girl and bruises all round.

But, here she was, bruised, cut and utterly defeated, trying her best to hold back sobs of pain as she shuffled her way down the deserted, gravelly road. Once Clara finally reached the door of her home, she bit down her lip anxiously, trying to push back her tears. There was no room for crybabies in the Shelby household. She found herself trembling as she took a shaky breath in and slowly eased the door open.

Inside, Tommy and Pol stood to their feet, their angry eyes immediately snapping towards the little girl. Both furious faces dropped and Pol was instantly on her knees in front of the girl, her warm hands heating up Clara's numb cheeks. The young girl leant into her aunt's touch, her eyes trained on the floor below.

"Clara, what on earth happened?!" Pol exclaimed, taking in the girl's battered state.

"I f-fell." Clara stammered, her tiny voice echoing against the quietness of the room.

"We both know that's a lie," Tommy spoke up, lowering his voice as he bent down beside her Aunt. "Now, c'mon, Clara girl, tell us who did this."

The girl's lip trembled, glancing between her aunt and brother before she rushed forward, latching onto Tommy. She buried her head into his shoulder, her tears of vexation and pain now freely flowing as she cried. His arms were quick to engulf her as he lifted her up, pushing aside his shock, as he allowed himself to comfort his weeping sister.

"It's okay," he hushed, rubbing her back as she wailed. "C'mon, atta girl." Clara sniffled and furiously wiped away her tears. She was being silly. She didn't cry. Only babies cried. Tommy gently placed her down onto a chair, crouching in front of her as she avoided his gaze.

"I need you to tell me what happened, Clara."

Unable to hold it back any longer, the small girl rushed to recount her after school tale. She told them about the boy who'd cornered her and beaten her up while his friends held her back. Clara sniffled as she failed to push the tears away as she told them how hard she had tried to defend herself. Tommy watched and listened intently as the girl told the story, her bruised knuckles a clear indication that she had tried to put up a good fight.

"I really did try, Tom."

"Clara, it's alright." He soothed, as the girl began to get worked up once more. "Now, why don't you go upstairs and Aunt Pol will help you clean yourself up a bit." With a feeble nod, the eight-year-old had been led away by the woman, leaving Tommy in the kitchen. Picking up his hat and coat, he huffed.

It was known that nobody messed with The Shelby family and although the perpetrator was a kid, the boy's hatred had to stem from somewhere.

Later that night, when Tommy had arrived home, he found Clara sitting in the living room blissfully unaware of her brother's bruised knuckles, her eyes locked on the fire as she fiddled with a page of an unread book.

"You should be asleep, little miss." He chuckled, flopping down onto the couch beside her.

"Not tired,"

"Well, come on, up to bed and I'm sure you'll fall asleep in no time, especially after the day you've had."

There was silence.

"Are you angry?" Clara finally asked, her eyes still actively avoiding her brother's.

"No..." He answered, "I'm just frustrated that you didn't tell any of us sooner."

"I told Finn."

"-and Finn barely knows how to form sentences." Tommy shot back, his head tilting as he spoke. "It doesn't matter. When something like this happens, we need to know. From now on, I want to hear nothing but the truth, promise?"

Clara nodded, "Promise." she mumbled.

"That means no lies...about anything important— especially about things like this." He didn't get a verbal response but the young girl vigorously nodded. "Good...now, c'mon, time for you to go get some sleep."

☆

CLARA DIDN'T KNOW HOW ADA HAD convinced her to go, all the girl knew was that Ada had practically begged the girl to accompany her to the pictures and before she could answer, Clara found herself being dragged down Watery Lane. She loved Ada despite their many differences. The two were close growing up, especially during the war. She loved having another girl to go to with any problems and even though Clara wasn't the most ideal 'girl', Ada adored her and adored teaching her multiple ways to wind up their brothers.

"Ada, c'mon, let go!" Clara pleaded, trying to rip her hand out of her older sister's tight grip.

"Quick, we'll miss the showing!"

The girl followed grumpily as they turned the corner. The pictures were ahead, leaving her more confused than ever. The two marched into the building, their heads held high, ignoring the stares. Clara pulled the cap from her head, as Ada went to grab a bag of popcorn.

"What's going on?" She questioned, following her sister into the Theater. "Ada?!"

The older girl continued to ignore her as they sat down in their seats. "Ada, c'mon, I love ya and all but why was I dragged out here?!" Clara persisted, frustration now seeping through her tone.

Ada hastily glanced around before leaning closer. "I'm pregnant." She blurted out softly. The younger girl's eyes widened in shock.

"You're..."

"Pregnant, yes."

Clara stared at her sister in disbelief. "And it's....his?" She choked, knowing that she wasn't allowed to utter Freddie Thorne's name in public.

"Yeah..." Ada bit her lip, her eyes welling up as the girl beside her scrunched her features together.

"Tommy's not gonna like that." Clara whistled, already wincing at the endless possibilities of Tommy's reactions. "You gonna keep it?"

"Pol doesn't want me to..."

"I didn't ask what Pol wants, did I?"

"You really are a weasel, y'know that?" She sniffled, her voice laced with amusement. Ada was silent for a few seconds before shifting in her seat. "...I want to."

"Then, congratulations." Clara grinned, before quickly grimacing. "—but good luck with Tommy."

Just before Ada could respond, the lights dimmed and the black and white picture began, leaving the Theater to descend into silence. The two sisters huddled close together, Clara's hand bumping against her older sister's as she attempted to steal some of the popcorn.

They'd sat like that for a mere twenty minutes, enjoying the film, before the doors to the Theater swung open, light flooding through the darkness. The two sisters glanced back before sinking back into their seats in horror. Clara squeezed her eyes shut, as Thomas Shelby strode down the centre of the Theater, sitting in the seat directly behind the older girl.

"Tell me the man's name, Ada." His voice terrifyingly low as Clara turned her head away from the two.

"Rudolph Valentino." Ada snapped, her eyes glued to the pictures ahead. Tommy abruptly stood to his feet and disappeared out of the Theater. Watching the man leave, the young girl whipped her head to face Ada, her eyebrows scrunched together.

"I can't believe that worked?!"

Clara had spoken too soon. The moving pictures came to a halt and the lights flickered on as Tommy stormed back into the Theater, angrier than ever.

"Get out!" He yelled as people looked around in confusion. Their quiet voices filling the silence. "ALL OF YOU! GO ON. NOW!" The remaining people scurried for the exits, as the man walked towards his sisters. Clara went to leave but was promptly stopped by her sister's hand clamping down onto her own, her shaky fingers interlocking with the girls.

Clara stared forward as Tommy stood over them. "I said tell me his fucking name." He growled, his angry gaze settled on the eldest Shelby girl.

There was silence.

And a bomb was about to drop.

"Freddie fucking Thorne!"

Boom.

Clara gripped her sister's hand supportively as Tommy's nostrils flared in anger and shock. The girl could only sit and stare forward, avoiding her brother's piercing gaze at all cost.

"Yeah. Your best mate since school," Ada furiously continued, "The man who saved your life in France.
So, go on. Go and cut him. Cut him up and chuck him in the cut."

Tommy swiftly turned on his heel, leaving the two girls alone. Clara let out a small sigh of relief, but before she could say anything, her brother's voice boomed through the room.

"Clara, get up, and walk!"

Her eyes widened, shooting Ada a worried glance. She unlatched their hands before tentatively jogging after Tommy, her teeth nervously gnawing on her lip. Clara finally caught up to the man, his jacket waving in the wind as he charged through the streets. The two walked in silence, Clara's mind spinning, trying to think of a way to avoid her brother's excessive rage but whenever she tried to fall back in order to escape, the man would slow his pace to match hers.

"Did you know?" His sudden words cut into her like knives and sent flurries of goosebumps down her spine.

"About what?"

"Did you know she was pregnant?"

Clara shook her head. "She only just told me." She answered honestly. The man grunted in response, continuing on.

"And, did you know about him?"

Clara dropped her head slightly, giving the man the answer he needed. His jaw locked furiously as he gritted his teeth.

"How long have you been lying, ey?" He snapped, "because I remember you saying you'd never lie to me, remember that?" Clara's temper bubbled to the boil at his words. She remembered that promise all too well— yet she'd never exactly followed through.

"And I remember you saying you'd be home by Christmas. Looks like we both lied," She spitefully spat, ignoring the falter in her brother's steps. "It wasn't my truth to tell. And, y'know what? I'm so sick of you. I'm not pregnant— Ada is, so why are you mad at me?!"

"You promised to never lie about important things like this, Clara. I trusted you to tell the truth."

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" Clara questioned, "You lie every single day yet I hold one secret and you go mental!"

"Get inside."

Clara had been so lost in arguing she hadn't realised they'd arrived outside of the house. "Why do I even try?! You won't listen to me anyways. God, I miss the old Tommy, the one who actually bloody listened and cared!" She yelled in frustration, waltzing into the house, and up the stairs. She slammed her doors closed with a loud bang, shaking the dust from the ceiling as she flopped onto her bed.

The girl hadn't bothered to return downstairs for dinner, opting to stubbornly barricade herself in her room, ignoring her aunt's calls. She blocked out Tommy's yelling, his arguing and multiple crashes. Perhaps it was childish, or perhaps it was selfish, but for Clara, it offered her a sense of peace as she lay in her bed spending her evening completely and utterly uninterrupted by angry brothers or pregnant sisters.

☆

CLARA SHELBY STRODE OUT THE GATES OF HER SCHOOL. Her hands shoved into her pockets as she laughed with Will. She was still angry at her older brother and she'd made her friend sit through the entirety of her ranting and rage.

"Sweetshop?" The girl randomly questioned, nudging the dazing boy with her elbow.

"Can't," He huffed, "Mum's still mental because Dad blew a lot of money on your horse. The bloody creature went and lost so everyone's on thin ice 'round her." Clara scrunched her eyebrows together. She'd been so out of it recently she hadn't even realised Monaghan Boy had lost. She'd heard Polly yelling about the horse but other than that, she'd heard close to nothing.

"I'll get you your money back," she decided, "The Peaky Blinders always help their neighbours. I'll talk to John about it."

"Right then, I better head off before the woman comes chasing me down with a whisk," Will nodded, before stalking off home, leaving the Shelby girl alone on the street. Clara bit down onto her lip as she looked to her left, spotting the recently enrolled, Penny Crawford walk out of the school gates.

"Penny," Clara greeted, stopping in front of the girl.

"Clara," The blonde girl smiled.

"I was going to go to the sweetshop but I think I'm going to go down to my uncle's yard, wanna come?"

Penny tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking around before nodding. "Yeah, sure...why not?" She answered.

"Brilliant," Clara cheered, linking her arm through the girl's leading her down the road. "If you want we could try to take the horses and go out riding?"

"I've never ridden a horse before..." The blonde replied anxiously.

"Well, I can help you with that," Clara reassured the girl. "It's easy enough once you get the hang of it."

Together, the two found themselves walking side by side into the mud of Charlie's yard. Clara felt her lips pulling up as soon as she entered the familiar area.

"Hello, Charlie!" She called out, waving towards her uncle as he emerged from the stables.

"Clara, who's this?" He asked, straightening up at the sight of the pristine-looking, blonde girl.

"Charlie, meet Penny." Clara gestured her hands as she spoke, "I was gonna show her the horses if that's alright?"

"'s fine, just don't mess about with the new one, yeah?"

"Got it!" Clara yelled, before quickly pulling Penny towards the stables. Upon entering the wooden structure, Clara let herself be engulfed by the familiarity. She shrugged off her jacket and hat, hanging them on a hook as the blonde girl looked around in wonder.

"You look like my brother Finn at Christmas," She snickered, folding her arms as Penny looked at her. "C'mon, let me show you Cannon." The girl led her towards the back stall where the sandy-brown horse whinnied excitedly upon seeing his carer. "Hello, boy." she laughed, soothingly stroking his nose. Clara turned to the precarious girl, "You can touch him, y'know...he's like a big baby."

Penny carefully crept closer to Clara, her hand outstretching. The horse moved its head towards the hand causing the girl to flinch backwards in fear. Clara had to hold back her quiet chuckles at the girl's reaction.

"Here," She slowly took Penny's hand, raising it and bringing it down gently onto the horse. "There ya go." Clara let go of her hand as the blonde patted Cannon. "See, it's not that bad!"

Penny laughed, "He's nice." She remarked, removing her hand before looking around once more. Her eyes flitted to the other side, her breath hitching. "Whoa..."

Clara diverted her attention from Cannon to where Penny had drifted off to. Her eyes widened as she was met with the sight of an all-white horse standing silently in his stall.

"Well I never," she whispered, approaching the beautiful horse. "I'm guessing this is the horse Tommy won." Clara reached out, her fingers delicately tracing over the white coat of the new horse.

"He's beautiful," Penny spoke, stroking the horse gently before Clara opened up the stall. The girl went around the side of the horse taking in its glory. Penny stepped in, closing the stall door behind her. "Never seen a horse so white."

"He really is a beauty." Clara whistled, circling the horse before stopping in front of it. Her eyes drifted down before she paused. Her eyebrows scrunched together in thought while she bent down onto her knees. Her eyes scanned the leg in front of her, noticing the horse slightly shifting its weight and refusing to put any normal form of pressure on the appendage.

"What's wrong?" Penny asked, looking down at the girl in confusion. Clara tilted her head, standing to her feet. Her mind was turning and spinning as she dusted off her pants.

"Nothing..." she eventually dismissed, "I just need Curly to check up on this gorgeous creature. He's shifting his weight— far too uneasy." She shook her head, "Anyways, I need to feed Cannon, so...you can help, if you'd like?"

The two girls spent the afternoon looking after the horses, their boots caked with mud and straw as they fed and brushed the animals. Night had soon fallen and Penny had taken her leave, as Clara went searching for Curly.

"Curly? You here?" She called out, her hands cupped around her mouth as she searched for the man. Surprisingly enough, the man in question popped out from behind a barn.

"Clara," the man grinned, stopping in front of her.

"Curly? Y'know the white horse Tom bought at the fair? I was in the stall with him earlier and I think his leg is paining him. He keeps shiftin' his weight."

Curly nodded and was quick to enter the stables, closely followed by the girl. He checked the horse before tutting under his breath. The girl glanced at her watch before cursing lowly.

"I've gotta go but I'll be back later, yeah?" Clara told the man, grabbing her jacket and hat from the hook. "Don't tell Charlie!" She left the man with the horse as she raced home. As soon as she closed the door to Six Watery Lane, she was met with Finn and Polly in the kitchen, both eating their dinners.

"You're late." Polly chided, raising a brow at the mucky girl. "-and take those boots off before you drag mud through the house." Clara complied, kicking off her boots and jacket, going to the sink to wash her hands. "Your dinners on the stove."

"Thanks, Aunt Pol." Clara smiled gratefully, taking the food and sitting beside her younger brother. Without hesitation the girl dug in, ravaging the food, already planning her escape for the night.

☆

SEVEN CREAKS. TWO AT THE TOP OF THE STAIRS, ONE outside Finn's room, two outside of Clara's, and two more signalling Tommy had gone into his bedroom. When the girl said she had the fine details of the house memorised, she wasn't lying. She would wait twenty-five minutes until she would move again, usually, her brother would be lulled and too dazed for her to be caught.

Clara waited patiently, her watch ticking as the moonlight shone into the room in beams of white. It was silent in the house, the only noises being the incessant downpour of rain from outside and the creaking of Tommy's bed as he shifted and turned. It was an annoying sound but it could be worse. He could be screaming.

When the boy's had arrived back from France, it had been a nightmare. The screams would begin late into the night. Tommy had harshly warned the younger kids not to go into his room under any circumstances during the night, so they hadn't. Instead, Finn often opted to climb into Clara's bed, the two of them huddling together trying to block out and escape the terrifying and heart-wrenching noises.

The girl finally sat up from her bed, her watch hitting the twenty-five-minute mark. She cautiously stood up, gliding over the creaks of her room until she was by the window. On the window sill, she'd placed her boots, hat and jacket, bundled up into a pile so she could grab them and put them on with ease. Clara tugged on her coat, before leaving her boots. Pulling on her hat, she took a deep breath in before sliding her window open quietly. Once she was on the wet roof, she leaned back into the room, placing an old door stopper in the gap to leave the window open.

Clara manoeuvred her way across the slippery tiles, clutching them tightly as she climbed. When the girl finally reached the edge of the building, she reached out, blindly grabbing the metal drain at the edge of the house, using it to repel down the side. Getting down was easy but making it back up later would be even harder— especially in the rain.

Once her feet hit the ground, Clara took off in a sprint towards the yard her feet carrying her through the streets, not daring to slow down. She knew these streets like the back of her hand, especially when trying to avoid all roads to the Garrison. She turned the last corner, running through the gates of the Yard, and straight into the stables. Charlie and Curly stood, the latter babbling worriedly, as they examined the horse which had now been moved and tied up, his leg bandaged and held off the floor.

"Clara," Charlie began, startled to see the young girl bolt in. "What are you—"

"Came to see how the horse was," she panted, taking off her hat. "He was uneasy earlier, I told Curly, but I wanted to see how the poor boy was." The two men exchanged an unreadable glance, one that the girl caught easily. "Did you find out what's wrong with him?"

"He's cursed, I'm telling you," Curly panicked, his fear rising, "The Lees put a bad seed in the hoof, got an old woman to put a spell..."

"Cursed?" Clara's eyes widened as she looked at the sickly horse. She grew closer her hand reaching out to gently caress his head. "The poor boy." She mumbled, her lips pulling into a frown before pulling away to look at her uncle. "What will you do to him?"

"We need to get Tommy." He answered, glancing between a manic Curly and Clara. The girl sighed, her head bowing in thought.

"I can run back and get him..." She finally spoke, "I'll get there faster than both of you." She jammed her wet hat back onto her head, sadly patting the horse one last time before exiting the stables, taking off in a steady jog before accelerating forward. It had taken a bit longer, her tiredness catching up to her as she reached the house.

The girl reached up and gripped onto brick and the metal drainpipe, hoisting herself up. The rain pelted down, causing Clara to swear quietly as she hurried to climb. Her foot slipped off the pipe, her fingers clutching for grip before she managed to grab onto the roof and scurry across. No longer caring for noise, the girl yanked her window open, and steadily walked through her room, her clothes dripping water while her boots dragged mud into the home.

Rapidly, Clara made her way to the end of the hall and knocked on her brother's door, calling his name as she went. The door finally swung open revealing an exhausted Tommy. His eyes examined her drenched figure as his features drew together.

"What the hell do you think—"

"Tom, we have to go, it's the horse— your horse! Quick!" She rambled, her words stringing together as she tried to explain. His hands cupped her cold face, forcing her to look up at him. She leaned into the warmth, her heartbeat steadying.

"Clara, you need to tell me what's happening." He stated calmly— too calmly. The girl gulped, pulling at her sopping cuffs.

"It's the horse, the white one, I noticed he was uneasy earlier and Charlie sent me to get you..." she finally pieced. The man let his hands drop from his face as he backed into his room, grabbing a coat and hat, and slipping on his boots before running down the stairs.

Perhaps Clara wasn't meant to follow, but she did anyway, keeping his pace as they silently ran through the lashing rain. They jogged through the gates, making their way back to the yard stables. Clara allowed herself to run ahead, whipping off her hat as she rejoined Curly and Charlie.

"Curly, tell me." Tommy panted, watching the man panic as he paced.

"It's a curse, Tom," Curly mumbled, his fingers tapping his mouth as he anxiously continued.

"Curly, Curly, shh, shh. Curly, Curly. Tell me. Tell me, Curly, what's wrong with your horse?"

"You bought her at the fair in bad feeling. The Lees put a bad seed in the hoof, got an old woman to put a spell..." he repeated, telling Tommy the same thing he'd told Clara earlier.

"So those Lee bastards cursed him."

Clara looked down at the sound of her brother's broken voice. She loved horses, in fact, they were a huge part of her life, but the reason for her love stemmed from her brother. Tommy was the one who introduced her to the fine creatures, Tommy was the one who brought her out riding, Tommy was the one who taught her everything she needed to know, and seeing him faced with the sick horse made her realise that although her brother hadn't spent a lot of time with the horses recently, they were still a huge part of his life— a huge part of his heart.

"Whatever it is, he says it's spread to the other feet." Charlie sighed, his sullen face grimacing.

"It's going to his heart by tomorrow, I'd say. Seen curses like this twice." Curly explained, rocking back and forth, "Can't take them back, Tom. No."

Clara watched as her brother buried his head in his hands. She bit her lip, her eyes welling with tears as the horse let out a small whinny.

"I told you, Tommy." Charlie shook his head as he spoke, "Better enemies to have than black-blood G*psies."

"Get out." Tommy eventually muttered, his soft voice edged with anger. Charlie ushered the panicked Curly out of the stable while Clara stayed put, her morose eyes tracing the horse's pain-filled posture. "Clara. Out." His cold tone forced the girl to lift her head.

"You're going to kill him." She stated, looking at her brother who was now actively avoiding her gaze. "You always told me it was a form of mercy...it doesn't feel like it."

"Clara, I won't say it again. Get. Out." Tommy gritted, "You shouldn't even be here at all."

Clara hung her head, approaching the animal. Her shaky hand carefully caressed the side of the horse's face, a single tear dropping from her eye, a tear which could have easily been concealed amongst the raindrops.

"I'm so sorry," She mumbled, leaning her forehead against his muzzle. The rule of mercy had been explained to Clara when she was younger when one of the older horses at the yard had grown weaker. It had taken her a while to understand, but letting a horse suffer and to see one in such pain was a hurt like no other. "In another life, beautiful boy."

She stumbled as she stepped away from the horse, her brother's hand instinctively clamping down on her shoulder to steady her.

"Go home." Tommy coldly ordered, dropping his hand.

"But-"

"GO HOME." His sudden yelling caused the girl to flinch away from him. Clara nodded, too dejected and tired to push Tommy any further. She placed her wet cap on her head, sparing one last glance at the white horse. The girl turned on her heel and ran through the barn, stopping outside of Cannon's stall, tears now shamelessly pouring down her cheeks.

Clara pulled open the stall door, launching herself at the horse, gently placing her hands on either side of his head. She squeezed her eyes shut as the sudden noise of a gunshot echoed throughout the stable, forcing more tears to spill as she stifled a sob. She shakily pulled away from Cannon, bidding him a quiet goodbye before cautiously exiting the stall and stable.

Clara didn't run home.

Instead, she found her feet dragging against the gravel, her sadness being masked by the rain. By the time she arrived home, she'd shed more tears than she had in years. She quietly entered the silent house, shrugging off her saturated coat and hat.

That night she dreamt. She dreamt of white horses and golden paddocks. She dreamt of sunny days and cloudless skies.

She dreamt of better times.

☆

HELLO MY LOVELIES!!

How are you on this very fine Friday?

I am in fact melting, it's way too hot and I need this heat to ease off a lil. ANYWAYS, this chapter had me in my feels near the end. Soft Clara makes me soft and Clara & Penny own me :')

Anywho, don't forget to vote and comment because I'm a Whoreeeee for attention and I SHALL SEE YOU NEXT FRIDAY!

Love ya!