☆

"DEAR LORD, MAKE THIS DAY PASS WELL."

Clara sat on a wooden chair in the betting den, her head buried in a red bound book she'd stolen from beneath Tommy's bed. She'd woken up significantly earlier than usual, opting to wake with the sun as it poured into her room in unusual streams of pure white. Something about today felt off. Clara knew it. Her feelings were confirmed once Pol appeared in the betting den with her rosary beads, standing at the top of the table, praying.

"Dear Lord, make this day pass well. Let none get hurt, and make them that do, not Shelbys." Polly recited, Clara mouthed the words mockingly as her eyes remained on her page.

She was out of the sight of her aunt so she held no mercy in her mimicking. As a child, she'd been forced to repeat the prayer each morning at breakfast when her brothers were at war. The words were practically etched into her brain. In fact, over the years she grew to resent the prayer, resorting to creating her own. Don't get her wrong, she wished for her brothers' safety on the daily but something about this prayer bugged her relentlessly.

"Watch John, 'cause he has so many depending on him," Polly spoke.

Watch John because his fat head is too big, Clara mentally mocked, her eyes scanning over the words on the page. That was the only rebuttal that had stayed the same over the years.

"Watch Arthur, because he's as likely to hurt himself as anyone else." Polly continued.

Watch Arthur because he has uncontrollable anger issues. (That mock had been changed and adapted several times.)

"Watch Thomas. I know how he is. But he does what he does for us." Polly said as if trying to convince herself. "I think..."

Watch Thomas, because he's a dick with control issues. Clara smugly smiled to herself, her lips curling up into an amused expression. She'd thought of that one just then.

"Amen." Polly finished, blessing herself as Clara raised her brows. The girl curled up closer, her ears pricking as a pair of quiet footsteps walked across the creaky floor.

"I used to do that every morning during the war," Polly quietly said, turning to face Tommy who stood in the door of the kitchen, looking out at Pol, his hands in his pockets. "I'd hoped I'd done it for the last time.

"Today will be the last time, Pol." Tommy nonchalantly reassured, his eyes flickering over to his sister who had re-submerged her head in the book. "After today, there'll be no need for prayers. We'll be set. Family meeting, half-ten."

"Clara, that means you too." He added, watching the girl raise her brows. "Up...come with me." Clara huffed, shutting the book with a moderately loud slam. She pushed herself to her feet, her sock ladened toes quickly slipping across the wooden floor in order to catch up with her brother.

"Not praying, ey?"

The girl rolled his eyes as he lit a cigarette, leaning against the wall.

"Did it enough during the bloody war, don't see the point now." She shrugged, sitting down on the couch, the book tucked into her hands carefully.

Tommy didn't say anything, merely nodding and taking a drag out of his cigarette. "I want you at that meeting, half ten sharp." He stated.

"So you've said," the girl replied coldly.

"Stay with Pol."

"And if I don't?" She asked, her eyes maliciously glistening, purposely trying to wind her brother up.

"No, you don't get to start today. Any other day you can prance around with that fuckin' attitude...not today. You stay with Pol." Tommy ordered, flicking the ash from his cigarette. "Understand?"

"Fine."

Tommy shook his head, his eyes tracing the girl as she glared up at him. This was the first time they'd spoken since their argument. The first time they'd acknowledged one another, and it was no surprise that the tension and hostility could be cut with a knife. The girl wasn't going to back down. Not this time.

"Well, are you going?" She asked, tilting her head with a raised brow.

"Why'd you ask?"

"Because I want to run through the streets stark naked...why do you think?"

Tommy sucked in a frustrated breath, counting from one to ten as he soothed his temper. "Half ten, Clara, I mean it." He warned.

"Yeah, yeah, half ten, got it." She grumbled, grabbing the book and promptly standing up. "I'm not five, I know how to remember stuff."

"For someone who says they're not five, you sure act like it," Tommy remarked, taking another drag from his cigarette.

"Whatever," Clara rolled her eyes, waltzing up the stairs, her brother watching as she disappeared out of view. He was meant to smooth things over. He hadn't, maybe he'd made it worse but right now, that couldn't be his main focus, he had a big day ahead and he planned on making sure everything went perfectly.

☆

A LOUD BABY'S CRY SNAPPED CLARA out of her daydream. The girl crept closer to her door, peeking her head out in curiosity as the cry came again. She heard distant voices, her ears perking up as she carefully slipped down the stairs, avoiding any and all creaks. She snuck towards the living room, where Ada stood in the doorway, watching as Pol rocked Karl.

"Ada?!" Clara blurted out, her eyebrows scrunched together as the woman turned around.

Ada grinned, capturing her younger sister in a hug, her arms crushing the girl. Clara's eyes widened, while her heart began to hammer at the close contact. She quickly pulled away from the embrace, trying to mask her building panic.

"What are you doing here?" The younger girl asked, diverting the conversation.

"Ask Pol, she's the one who demanded I come out," Ada replied, folding her arms with a small smile. The two girls leaned against the doorway, watching as Pol gently swayed the crying baby.

"You're much better with him than I am," Ada commented as Pol looked fondly at Karl.

"He settles quicker with me because he can't smell the milk," Polly spoke, as the devil child gurgled. "Let's put him down." The woman lowered the baby into the bassinet, while Ada walked towards her, watching her boy slowly close her eyes. Clara lingered in the doorway, silently observing Pol's mood change.

"Mine were terrors for the tit. Both of them." Pol reminisced, "Well, you never knew my children, did you?"

"I was a child myself then, Clara was only a toddler," Ada answered, glancing back at the younger girl. "You never talk about them."

"I've no reason to." Pol's smile was sad, her eyes watery as she spoke. "My heart breaks even when I think about them. But, today..." the woman paused as she sat down. "I do have reason to. Sit down, Ada...Clara, you too."

The girl curiously stepped into the room, slinking towards a wooden chair before sitting down, her legs folding beneath her.

"They were three and five years old. Sally was three, Michael was five, well, two weeks away from being six. It was Sunday morning, I was at church..." Polly's eyes glazed over as Ada and Clara glanced at one another, their hearts dropping to their stomachs. "'You're not forgiven.' This...pinched-faced bitch said to me, 'You're not forgiven.' You see, some sheets I'd washed and hung on the line had the name of a hotel in them."

"They'd been stolen in a robbery, and they said some porter at the hotel had been coshed. And a woman from around here told the police about the sheets. Jealous, you see, about the new sheets. And when the police came, they found a spirits still. Making a few drops of gin. And for that..." the woman's voice broke, tears now spilling onto the cushion of her skin. Clara shifted uncomfortably as she watched her aunt cry. It was an odd thing to see from the usually strong woman. "They took my children from me. And they never told me where they took them. And they did it 'cause they could, and 'cause I was weak."

"They will never take your baby away from you. Do you know why?...'cause Tommy won't let them." Pols voice was now thick with emotion and assurance. "Cause Tommy won't let them walk all over us. Now, it is Tommy that has brought strength and power to this family. 'Cause he knows...You have to be as bad as them above in order to survive. I'm telling you this because I want you to forgive him."

How can I?" Ada asked coldly, although her voice was thick with spite and sadness. "When my Freddie's rotting in jail because of him."

"There's something about today you need to know."

☆

CLARA SAT ON AN EMPTY TABLE IN THE BETTING DEN as people began to file in. Finn stood in front of her, his hair ruffled from where the girl had previously reached out and messed up his slicked-back hair. Tommy stood at the top of the room, his hands folded as silence fell upon the group.

"Right. We've brought you all here today 'cause this is the day we replace Billy Kimber." He said, his voice flat. Clara picked at her nail beds as he spoke, her eyes flitting around the room. "This is the day we become respectable. The day we join the official National Association of Racecourse Bookmakers. But, first, we do the dirty work."

"Now, you've all known this day's been coming, I just haven't told anyone the date." Tommy turned around, pointing at the blackboard with odds scribbled in chalk along with the horses racing. "We're going to the Worcester races. Track opens at 1:00, we get there at 2:00."

"Now, Kimber thinks we're going there to help him fight the Lee brothers. Thanks to the efforts of our John and his lovely new wife, Esme, the Lees are now our kin. I interrupted those efforts this morning and, uh," Tommy paused slightly as laughter resounded around the room. "I can assure you all, John is making great sacrifices in the cause of peace." Beside Clara, Pol stifled her chuckles. Tommy was now smiling at John's discomfort.

"Yeah, all right." John huffed, but his hand reached back to interlock with Esme's.

"So it'll be us and the Lees against Kimber's boys. We take 'em out and leave the bookies." Tommy resumed his facade. "I'll expect a swift victory which will send a signal all the way to London that we believe in letting legitimate businesses run peacefully."

"And, uh, what about Kimber himself?" John questioned.

"I'll deal with Kimber." Tommy nodded, "Any other questions?"

"Yes." Pol suddenly spoke up, nudging Clara, who slowly stood to her feet and waltzed towards the green door leading to number six's kitchen. "Does anyone object if we bring a newcomer to the meeting?"

Clara unlocked the door, peeking inside, winking at a nervous Ada who held Karl close to her chest. "You'll be fine," she whispered, opening the door slowly, as her older sister walked out.

"I'd like to introduce the newest member of the Shelby clan," Pol announced, standing by Ada's side as she approached the door. The blinders around the room clapped as Ada joined the group. Clara resumed her position on the table, her legs folded beneath her as her lips pulled into a smile.

"Welcome home, Ada." Tommy greeted.

"We named him Karl." Ada said sheepishly, "After Karl Marx."

"Karl bloody Marx." Arthur boomed. "Let me get a look at him!"

"Oh, here we go," John remarked, his toothpick balancing on his lip.

Arthur placed his blinder hat on the devil child, holding the baby into the air. "Hey, look! He looks just like me, look!" He grinned

"That's his arse looks like you, Arthur," John commented. Clara watched with a straight face while those around her laughed and chuckled at Arthur. Her stomach was churning uneasily. A pit growing in the base. Clara sat at the back of the room as they fawned over the baby. She had, had her fill of the devil child, and opted to keep her distance.

"He's all right." Her eldest brother tutted, "He's a Shelby."

"Well, Ada..." Tommy's lips curled up into a half-smile as he spoke. "Am I forgiven?"

"If what Aunt Polly says is true, you are." Ada gulped.

"It's true."

The older girl smiled, pulling her brother in for a tight hug. Clara's eyes glanced around the room, before quietly stepping away from the gathering. It seemed that the heat in the room had grown, causing the girl to shift uncomfortably while she slipped out of the room. She allowed her feet to bypass any creaks on the stairs as she swiftly entered her room.

Leaning against her dresser, she let out a small huff, trying to shake her hazy mind. Her foot tapped against the floor, its rhythmic beat matching the pounding of her heart. She knew what was happening today, so why was she so—urgh?! Her chest tightened ever so slightly, her hand moving to her throat as she tried to swallow. 

She let out a shuddered breath, her fingers running along her scalp, her hands clutching the roots of her hair. Clara shook her head with her eyes squeezed shut. For fucks sake. She couldn't breathe without her chest caving in even more. Her fingers gripped her hair tightly, her forehead resting against the dresser.

Her blood felt like liquid fire, her body's temperature growing at an uncomfortable rate. Her hand pulled at the collar of her shirt, her teeth gnawing into her bottom lip. She raised her head slowly, the reflective surface bouncing light from the window. Her eyes lifted to meet the pair in the mirror staring right at her. She stopped. Her lip trembling and her grip on her hair loosened in horror. Her body was rigid as if she'd been dunked into a frozen river in the depths of winter.

Behind her, a man stood, his gaudy eyes and gashed neck blatantly standing out amongst the wallpaper. The girl's chest heaved, up and down rapidly, her eyes locked in terror on the man's deranged form. A soft noise left her throat as she suppressed her cries. She hadn't had a nightmare about the man in a week. He would cross her mind every now and again, yet Clara would suppress it, allowing the pile of repression to build.

There was a sharp knock on her door, and her eyes snapped towards the man in the doorway, who was leaning against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets. Clara's eyes darted from her wall to her brother quickly before she turned on her heel. Her flushed face burned as her arms dropped to her side. She glanced at the wall before looking back towards her brother, the tight feeling in her chest lingering.

"Pol said she thinks we should talk." Tommy started, entering the room, kicking his feet.

"Haven't we talked today already?" Clara rolled her eyes as she strode across the room, sitting on the edge of her bed. She tried to hide the shakiness of her hands as she reached out to pick up the bound book on her nightstand, lazily flicking through the pages. Her feet lay across the blankets before they were pushed off by her brother. Tommy sighed as he sat down on the bed, his hands resting on his knees as the girl beside him inched away.

"I'm not going to apologise—" he started.

"Good, because I'm not either." Clara cut in, tilting her head away from the man.

"Right, Listen...I'm not going to apologise. Clara, you broke the rules— the rules that are there for your own good."

"I didn't want to be in this bloody room anymore," Clara muttered, closing the book, her hands resting on top of it. Tommy nodded, his teeth grazing his lower lip as they both stared at the wall opposite the bed.

"Today, as you know, is a big day for this family. I don't want to argue with you, not when we're this close to becoming semi-legal." Tommy continued, "If not forgiveness, then a truce?" He stuck his hand towards her. The girl looked at it, her eyes slowly raising to meet her brothers. Tentatively, Clara took his hand in hers, shaking it up and down.

She quickly slipped her hand out of the grasp before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Truce." She mumbled, her legs crossing beneath her. The two lingered in silence. Clara twiddled her thumbs as Tommy scanned the room.

"Is that my book?" He suddenly asked, his eyes trained on the book in her hands. Clara internally cringed, releasing her death grip.

"Yeah..." she answered feebly. Tommy nodded slowly, as the girl prepared for the truce to be broken. "You can have it back."

"Keep it." He stated, a small sigh escaping his lips. "You'll probably read it more than I ever will."

Clara bit down on her lip, suppressing a smile as her lips threatened to quirk up. And so the two sat, and they stared and they did what all civil people would do...they acknowledged one another for the first time in two weeks. And it was an odd feeling.

But Clara liked it...she basked in it.

It was nice to not be fighting for once.

"I know I said I wouldn't apologise, and uh, I'm not." Clara mumbled, "—but I am glad you came back. I am. I don't know why I said it." The man nodded and placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. She suppressed her trembles closing her eyes and focusing her mind.

It was just Tommy.

"It's done and forgotten," her brother announced, pursing his lips in a smile. "Now, I've to go, stay here with Ada, yeah?"

Clara solemnly nodded as the man's hand dropped from her shoulder. She watched as he left the room, his footsteps echoing until they faded.

☆

DID SOMEONE SAY FILLER CHAPTER?!?

ANYWAYS—HELLO, MY BEAUTIFUL READERS! How are you on this very fine Friday?!

This is the second last chapter in act one of this book and holy hell am I excited to continue Clara's journey!!

SOMETHING TO NOTE: Clara is slowly recovering mentally from being attacked but as seen she had a panic attack and is not having a good time!

I do love to write it because Angst is my middle name<3

ANYWAYS, feel free to vote and drop a few comments and I'll see you next week ;)