TROUBLE - peaky blinders

12. amidst the walls

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CLARA SHELBY WAS TIRED. After the attack, she'd been ordered to bed rest in an attempt to allow her body to heal. It had been a week and a half since the attack and it seemed as if people still walked on eggshells around her. John had shown up the next day, his usual joking toned down as he watched over the girl. Something about seeing his sister on that couch made his stomach churn. Nobody asked twice before he offered to 'take watch'.

Another thing instituted after the attack was that the girl was not to be left alone during the day. And Clara was grateful for that— at least for the first three days. She'd tried to argue it but came to no avail. Her brother had opted to work on the books while watching the girl, allowing her to breathe for five minutes every hour as he disappeared down into the shop.

They treated her like a tower of cards as if the slightest wrong move would send her crumbling to the point of disrepair.

The entire family had been told what had happened that night. Tommy and Pol had told them each individually. Pol had told Ada through the door, the latter covering her mouth in shock, her baby clutched a little bit tighter to her chest than before. Arthur had been told, but he'd also been warned. After his little 'stunt' in the gym, large purple blotches formed around his neck. He was told to wait until they healed to go see the young girl, in fear that seeing her older brother would be the gust of wind that sends her tower of cards crumbling.

John was the one Clara saw the most. He was the one she was forced to converse with, in order to maintain her sanity. He would tell her what was happening around the place, even allowing her to read a few of the betting books as long as she didn't tell Pol or Tommy. He made it somewhat bearable, continuing on like normal, yet keeping the boundaries Pol and Tommy inflicted. He would crack jokes in attempts to make her laugh...and Clara would laugh, but her eyes wouldn't. She would laugh to appease him. She didn't even realise it was happening until he'd pointed it out.

"Y'know if you don't find them funny you should tell me," he had spoken, scribbling into the betting book. His eyes flitted towards her every few seconds. "It'll save me the pain of being an arse like Arthur."

Clara was silent, her eyes looking down at her hands which were fiddling with the top of her blanket. Maybe she should apologise for not laughing?...no, Shelby's don't apologise. She opted to stay silent as her brother cocked a brow. The girl let her head hang. It felt as if there were someone pacing in her mind, their footsteps echoing and bouncing off of her brain, causing her head to throb.

Something bubbled at the back of her throat and a question she so desperately yearned to ask wiggled to try to break free. She'd been thinking it over for days, yet she had almost been too scared to voice it. Clara gulped, swallowing air as she looked away from her brother.

"John...how'd you do it?" She suddenly asked, her serious but shaky voice causing the man to look up.

"Do what now, ey?" He smiled, tilting his head.