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Now, one week away from her fourteenth birthday, Polly-Anna had found inner peace.
She and Thomas weren't exactly friends- probably because he seemed to now be actively avoiding her, but they didn't share a common hatred towards each other, either.
Though, Thomas's mother, Mabel, and his aunt Polly had grew even closer to the two Wallace girls in the short time they had known each other. Jealousy wasn't really something that Thomas felt often, but for a split second, he was envious of his mother for being able to walk into her life like it was walking into Comptons Chemist... because it wasn't that easy.
Arthur and John had become consistently there in her life, constantly walking her to and from wherever they see her first, for John it was an excuse to ask for Amber, and for Arthur? Polly-Anna couldn't always decipher.
But Thomas knew why Arthur had been around Polly-Anna and little Amber. It was because he asked him to, or rather— persuaded with the means of whatever he could find around his room. Bribing, in other words- but Thomas had a good reason... he couldn't exactly do it himself, could he?
"So— how is she?" Thomas asked his band of brothers who sat at the kitchen table, hands cupping around cups of hot tea.
John shrugged, whenever he was with Polly-Anna he never asked how she was- all he usually asked for was cake and sometimes if the three of them could go down to the cut and play for an hour before he needed to get home. Of course, she always said yes- which made her his favourite person in the entire world... for a moment or two.
"She's pretty." John replied bluntly, knowing that Thomas had more than just platonic feelings towards the girl.
In Thomas's eyes, she was perfectly imperfect. She was rash and sometimes a little irrational too. He liked the way her eyes twitched whenever she was irritated and the way they lit up when Amber walked into the room. She felt pride and a sense of honour when she knew Amber was doing well at school— she was the girl he wanted to marry in the future.
"Not what I asked, John- and you know it."
But he was just fourteen years old, he was just a wishful thinker.
"She thinks you're a mess, Tom. Thinks you took more than just that beating that day." Arthur replied, but not before he covered Johns ears with both hands.
Thomas wasn't a mess! Not outwardly, anyway. He was struggling with his upcoming examinations and thought that a little bit of distance from his biggest distraction would do him the world of good, but it didn't. He worried about a girl he knew he didn't have to. She had, now, an army of women who were always going to look out for her. She had Amber-Jack, who told John everything. If John heard something he didn't like, he'd be sure to tell one of his brothers- and thankfully that had yet to happen.
"It's her birthday next Saturday, and she ain't gotta work for once." Arthur piped in, finally removing his hands from little Johns ears.
A June birthday, he hadn't expected her to be a June baby. She was— well, what was a June baby when they were at home? Michael didn't seem to be an April baby either, and Thomas didn't necessarily feel like a January baby— but again... what was one of those when they were at home, he'd never know.
