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CLARA SHELBY WAS NOT HAPPY. The lines of cocaine she'd done this morning had done little to raise her spirits, in fact, she felt even more infuriated than usual. As she shoved her way through the Good Friday crowd gathered outside of the betting den. Her eyebrows were furrowed in anger. The men were yelling, their hands full of hard-earned money to squander as they awaited the opening of the den. The girl scowled deeply as she was pushed forward into another man who shoved her backwards.

"Alrigh'..." Clara gritted before she pulled her gun from her pocket and held it into the air. She cleared her throat and yelled. "MOVE OUT OF MY FUCKIN' WAY!"

Every man in the small crowd turned to look at her as she pointed the gun straight ahead of her at the men blocking the entrance. Over half the men took two steps backwards, recognising the girl and the steel of her gun. Clara smirked triumphantly as she shoved the gun back into its holster and walked the now empty path into the betting den. She pushed open the wooden door before she angrily slammed it shut behind her.

"It's not fair." Esme's voice echoed through the den as the roaring outside rose again. "They're off drinking and shooting rifles as we sit here. Listen to the mugs swearing, spitting on the bloody floor for us to fucking wipe up! Without men here, they'd be like dogs pissing up the wall."

The woman paused as Clara shrugged off her jacket and hung it up on the coatstand along with her hat. Clara pushed strands of her hair behind her ears before she strode towards Esme, Lizzie and Pol.

"I was just saying it's not fair. The men are down there like lords." Esme continued to complain as she leaned back in her seat.

"Here, here," Clara agreed as she grabbed a set of papers from the table that Esme sat behind. She placed them on a counter and grabbed a pen to start going through the countless lists.

"Esme, just..." Pol sighed in exasperation, her eyes flickering to Clara. "Get on with it."

"I'm bloody five months gone!" Esme called after Pol in anger.

"And whose fault is that, Esme?" Clara huffed with a glint of mischief in her eyes as she spared a glance at the grumbling woman who snorted up another line of cocaine.

"I forgot the combination," Pol groaned from the other room, as she banged her head on the safe.

"24-8-22,"

"24-8-22,"

Clara looked to Lizzie who had also recited the safe combination. She raised a brow before she returned to the stack of paper.

"How do you know the paper cash combination?" Pol questioned. Clara took the hint that she was asking Lizzie rather than Clara because if Pol were to ask Clara, she'd know that Clara had stolen cash out of it many times. Never enough to make anyone suspicious but just enough so she could go out drinking. She always ended up replacing the stolen money with some poor drunkard's cash which she'd also steal.

"Tommy talks in his sleep," Esme answered on behalf of Lizzie. Clara grimaced and shook her head in disgust.

"Shut up, Esme." Lizzie quietly snapped, her head never lifting from the book she was marking.

"He's changed the combination," Pol moaned, as she attempted to open the safe. Clara chuckled to herself as Lizzie slammed down her pencil and strode towards Pol in exasperation.

"You've put it in wrong," Lizzie stated,

"No, I haven't." Pol slurred,

"Your hands are shaking." The woman pointed out as she put in the code and opened the safe for Pol. Lizzie returned to the table where her book was as Pol gathered the money.

"And actually, I am sleeping with Tommy, OK? Now and then. Because he wants to, now and then. When the mood takes him." Lizzie spoke calmly. Except we don't sleep. It's hard to sleep bent over a desk, isn't it? Happy?"

"For fucks sake," Clara cursed lowly, as she slammed her pen against the stack of papers. "Not happy. Very not happy. Didn't need to know that, Lizzie."

Lizzie turned to face the younger girl with her lips pressed into a line. Her eyes sent silent apologies toward her but Clara merely scowled and bowed her head in disgust. The silence that lingered was soon broken as more of the women workers piled in for their shifts.

"None of its fucking fair," Esme reiterated,

Clara rolled her eyes as she worked through the stack of papers. They were all badly done. Each sum was at least one-off if not more. Clara continued to release strings of curses as she sorted through each and every single value to fix and alter it. It surprised her that the betting den's doors still opened with this many mistakes made.

If she were in charge and ran a business like this, with this many problems she'd probably just shoot herself to save her the embarrassment.

A loud banging on the door to the den caused Clara to glance up briefly before she shook her head and returned to the papers. Pol's heels clattered against the floor, towards the door as Esme scowled.

"Can't wait to part with their money, stupid bastards." She muttered spitefully.

"It's all right, it's me!"

Clara let out a loud groan at the pitchy voice.

"Pol, please, for the love of all things good and bloody holy, do not open the door," Clara begged, as she ran her hands over her face in dread. Pol dismissed her plead as she swung open the door to allow Linda to enter. "And here comes Saint Linda of the damned...for fucks sake!"

Lizzie cracked a half-smile at Clara's monotonous words. Clara squeezed her eyes shut as she corrected the papers.

"Arthur said you'd be short-staffed today because they are on a works outing." Linda bustled into the den holding a picnic basket

"Piss-up, actually." Esme snarked as she rolled her eyes and shifted a few books off to the side.

"I brought sandwiches and the lemonade I made myself." The blonde woman placed the basket only inches from where Clara had started working. The Shelby girl had to refrain from shoving the basket off of the counter and onto the floor.

"I'll make tea and empty ashtrays, but I won't handle money or slips." Linda continued, as the other women continued to move around to set up shop. "Arthur says what you do here is illegal, but not immoral."

"Depends what time you get here, Linda." Esme sighed. The blonde shifted on her feet, her eyes glancing towards Clara whose eyebrows had furrowed even deeper in agitation.

"And anyway, I thought I'd offer you my physical and spiritual support in your time of need." Linda smiled,

"Fuckin' spiritual support," Clara repeated lowly to herself with a chuckle of disbelief.

"Oh, Linda, if you want to be a help, run up to the shops and get me 20 Senior Service." Pol remarked, and even Clara found herself trying to hide a smile at Polly's tone. "Lizzie'll give you the change."

"No, I won't," Lizzie laughed as she sorted through a pile of books.

"Actually, I'll use my own money, Polly." Linda smiled. Polly passed Clara with a subtle eye roll as she pulled out a bottle of whiskey from beneath the counter. "And before you ladies decide to find me so amusing, I have a message for you."

"Tell God I'm not interested," Clara mindlessly answered, as she scratched out an entire form before starting another anew.

"Oh, God, no, Linda." Pol huffed, her head in her hands. "I've been to church already. Have you?"

"It's not a message from God, you two." Linda chided, "It's from Jessie Eden."

"Who's Jessie Eden?" Polly asked as she downed a glass of whiskey.

"Ah, she's that shop steward in Sparkhill at the Lucas factory, isn't she?" Clara questioned, her eyes not looking up from her work. "I've heard of her..."

"A lady shop steward?" Esme interrupted.

"She's bringing all the female workers in the spot-welding and wire-cutting shops out on strike for the day—in protest at being made to work on a holy day." Linda supplied, "Poor conditions, lack of holidays, unsanitary lavatory provision and lower pay for female workers." Clara slowly lowered her pen as she listened to the woman. "Apparently, all the female factory workers in the city are joining the protest in sympathy and will walk out of their places of work at nine a.m. to march on the Bull Ring."

A series of loud knocks and yells came from outside.

"All oppressed female workers welcome." Linda finished.

"Them bastards down there shooting deer," Esme spoke her eyes focused on the table in thought. "Me five months gone, sat here like a pudding."

"Only one outside lavatory between the lot of us," Lizzie added,

"Not consulted."

"Bent over a fucking desk."

"No say in the work we do," Clara straightened her back as she looked at Polly. The other women workers of the den had gathered in the doorway to listen to Linda.

"Ladies, I honestly believe those who march on Good Friday will have God on their side." Linda smiled, stepping closer to Esme and Lizzie.

"It's 9 o'clock, ladies! Open the fucking door!"

Clara gritted her teeth at the roars from outside. Each member of the den turned to Polly who nonchalantly smoked a cigarette.

"Fuck it, I'm not in the mood today." Pol's steely voice sent shivers down Clara's spine. "Let's go to the Bull Ring."

"Hallelujah!" Esme exclaimed, clasping her hands together in mock prayer. Clara's face split into a wide grin as she grabbed her hat and jacket from the coat rack. She briskly shrugged on the material, letting it cover her green dress. The girl placed her hat on her head before she followed the women out of the den.

The men lined up outside watched incredulously as all of the women exited the den and out onto Watery Lane. Clara walked alongside Pol, a cigarette perched between her lips and her hands loosely at her sides.

The group of them marched down the Lane, eyes following them as they kept their heads straight. Clara felt her chest swell as they strode towards the Bull Ring. She did not dare think of what her brother may say about their absence—she couldn't find it in herself to care.

All she cared about was that her morning had taken a rather pleasant and eventful turn.

☆

CLARA SHELBY TRULY AND INDUBITABLY LOVED THE MOON. She loved the moon with her whole entire heart. She loved its luminescent glow that she could bask in. She loved its constant and routined appearance, always changing but forever there. It had been hours since the entirety of the Shelby betting den staff had walked out to go to the Bullring. She'd spent the afternoon surrounded by women, drinking and protesting. At one point Aunt Pol had even decided to become a ring leader and control the crowd, all while clutching a champagne bottle in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

Clara had to give it to her, Pol's speech was pretty good...at least the bits Clara could remember were good. A lot of free alcohol and rowdy women were the story of Clara's life, and she was going to take advantage of her situation.

And so, there she was, in the moonlight, stumbling down Barr street, her body light and stumbling as she squinted at the shops she passed. She needed to rid her soul of the weight it carried. Clara let her finger point at each house she passed, as she used a process of elimination to decipher where she was to stop. Her brain hummed, its melody travelling through her body until it was released from her lips in an out-of-tune melody.

Clara allowed her feet to carry her to the end of the street before she abruptly paused and began to walk backwards until she was directly outside the red and white sweetshop she was seeking. Her finger traced the outline of the windows while her foggy brain tried to remember which window she had to climb up to. She decided to just decide up there.

Clara walked around the side of the shop, looking for any pipes and bins to use as leverage. Luckily for her, right outside Penny's window, or what she assumed was Penny's window, was a small eave that could be used, if Clara could manage to pull herself up. The Shelby girl spent a few minutes staring at the window and then at the wall and then at the bins and the rusted metal pipe. It had been a while since Clara had climbed up the side of a house. Ever since Tommy had moved out into the middle of fucking nowhere, there was no need for Clara to sneak in and out of number six in the middle of the night.

Now she could just use the front door.

Clara stretched her arms above her head before she moved the metal bin towards the wall of the house. The girl's face scrunched in distaste at the loud clanging the metal made as it scraped against the ground. She shrugged off her coat and balled it up before she threw it onto the floor. Clara rolled her sleeves up to her elbow as she hoisted herself onto the bin. Her fingers gripped the brick, whilst one of her hands wrapped around the pipe on her left. Using all of her strength she slowly pulled herself up the wall. With her teeth gritted, she moved carefully, her fingers grasping the edge of the eave. Every muscle in her body strained from the tension as she slowly and surely lifted her body onto the eave before she collapsed onto her back in tiredness.

She forgot how hard that was.

Clara took in a few staggered breaths before she sat up and glanced towards the window. She turned over and swiftly crouched by the glass, her eyes peering inside Penny's dark bedroom. Penny looked like she was fast asleep, her tousled hair splayed out on the pillow, and her lips puckered.

Clara felt a drunken smile draw across her face as her knuckles quietly rapped against the window pane. Inside, she could see the blonde begin to stir, so she knocked again. Penny sat up in her bed tiredly, her palms digging into her eyes as she rubbed the tiredness out of them. Clara beamed as she knocked once more, waggling her fingers at a startled Penny.

The blonde slipped out of bed and toward the window in shock, her shaky fingers lifted the window up. It took Clara no time to swing her legs over the window sill and into the room as she sat in the window.

"Clara? What...why...how?" Penny spluttered, her words quiet and frantic.

"Needed to talk to you," Clara spoke as her smile wavered. "It's bout us...I think...yeah," Penny looked at the door to her bedroom before she sighed and stepped aside to allow the other girl to enter.

Clara's feet dropped down onto the floor. She looked around the bedroom, her eyes traced the white wallpaper and blue ribbons strewn across the dresser. She kicked off her boots before she sat beside Penny on her bed.

"I lied," Clara mindlessly blurted out while her hand ran through her hair. "I lied about what I said before."

"Lied about what?" Penny's eyebrows scrunched together in concern at Clara's gravelly voice.

"A lot...I lied about a lot," Clara fell back into Penny's bed. "And now I feel all guilty and shit...and...I'm quite drunk now to be honest...and you don't like that version of me, but I like that version of me. It's easier to be this version of me."

Penny was quiet as the girl spoke. The blonde slowly lowered herself down beside the Shelby girl, her fingers fiddled with each other nervously.

"So, I lied...London is fun, but not the London you saw...the London I see. And it makes me all happy and cheery and not as miserable." Clara explained, "...and I lied about our spot."

"What about our spot," Penny asked curiously, her fingers intertwining with the other girl's. Clara pulled out of her grasp.

"It's ruined. Everything is ruined. It's a wasteland. Nothing can survive there anymore. Nothing."

Penny's lips formed an 'o' as Clara scrunched her nose up.

"See, you look disappointed. I know that look all too well. I don't want to disappoint you, you see, that's not my intention...I don't like it, it reminds me of the part of me feels like I'll never be good enough for you."

Penny took both of Clara's hands in her own. "You'll do, Clara, you're enough," Penny spoke, whilst Clara squirmed to get the blonde to release.

"There's red on my hands, Pen...so much red." Clara's voice was quieter now. "My hands are bloodier than before...How could it be enough?"

"Let me wash them clean then," the blonde pleaded, "let me help you start anew."

"You don't get it..."

"What don't I get?"

"Everything..."

There was silence as the two lay there. Clara's chest rose and fell as she shifted away from the blonde. It was a palpable silence, one that dug into Clara's skin and ripped out each of her pulsing veins one by one. She didn't feel comfortable within the quiet. It tore apart her fragmented mind and scattered it across each realm of the universe.

"I think I'm losing it," the Shelby girl whispered. She found her eyes drifting to the floor beside her as she avoided the other girl's gaze.

"Losing what?" Penny questioned, her nimble finger affectionately traced down the girl's face. Clara felt uneased by the touch, her thoughts too focused on everything else.

"My mind," Clara breathed out, "I think I'm losing my mind..."

"You're not," Penny murmured while her lips pursed. "You're not going crazy. You can't be!"

"I am..." Clara turned her entire body towards Penny. "I just feel like the entire world is moving so fast and I can't keep up...I can't..."

"The world isn't moving fast," The blonde murmured. Clara searched Penny's face for any hint of understanding. She came up empty. The Shelby girl couldn't muster an answer. Every vocalised thought was caught in the back of her throat, scratching and tearing at the skin as it looked for release.

"I should go," Clara muttered as she sat up in the bed. "I should..."

"You should stay," Penny sat up and leaned closer to the girl while her arms wrapped around Clara. The blonde pressed a soft kiss against the side of her face. "Stay...sneak out tomorrow morning."

"But..."

"Stay."

Clara looked down at her shaky hands before she gave into Penny's demands. She sunk back into the pillows and soft mattress. Penny curled into Clara's side, their legs tangling beneath the covers of the bed. They didn't talk anymore, they allowed the silence to overwhelm them.

Clara waited until Penny's breaths evened before she turned over to cast her gaze out of the window. Behind the ominous cloud cover, she could see the moon. It watched over them in withdrawal, its beams touching the blanket over them in longing. The Shelby girl allowed her eyes to get glassy as the moon and stars beckoned for her to join them in the outside air. Clara let a singular tear fall from her eyes before she shut them tight and succumbed to the night

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HAPPY SUNDAY MY GORGEOUS READERS!
How are all of you on this fine evening?

I have had a lot of family issues occur today so unfortunately, I'm not all that sure when the next update will be!

I LOVE YOU ALL and I'll see you soon, (here's your weekly meme)!