Field of Poppies

June 1909 Appleby Fair

            Tommy wasn't sure to be happy or a bit nervous. But it just so happened that he and Amelia would get the family vardo to themselves for the night. Ada had opted to go stay with her cousins at the camp next to theirs. Polly took Finn over to her sister's camp across the way. And Arthur and John had decided to rough it for the night, sleeping under the stars.

Tommy wasn't sure he'd been that close to Amelia for that long. It wasn't super cramped inside the wagon, but it wasn't very roomy either. And with Amelia seven months along, they had to be close to one another.

"Not too warm, are you?" Tommy asked when he noticed she was still awake, staring at the ceiling with her hands on her stomach.

"No."

He waited a moment and cleared his throat. "Something you want to talk about?" There was that little tell in her eyes that meant she was deep in thought. It was a hint of sadness yet questioning.

She took a deep breath but didn't look at him. Her fingers drummed over her stomach. "I uh...he was someone I knew."

"Who?" Tommy's brow furrowed as he turned to his side and propped himself up with his elbow. "Who did you know?"

"The uh...the father."

"Oh, right."

Amelia chewed on her lower lip. "My parents were talking to his parents about maybe arranging a marriage. He was my dad's boss's son. And they thought it was a perfect match. I guess my dad would get the most out of the deal but I dunno what they were exactly talking about." Her shoulders moved slightly in a shrug. "Maybe thought it would elevate us in society, what he always wanted."

The tone of her voice sent a shiver down Tommy's voice. It was almost like she was telling him about something she was grieving. Why she was mourning something. But there was shame in her voice as well. And he couldn't be certain why that was until she told him everything. And he hoped she did. He hoped he was trustworthy enough to confide in.

"I didn't know him very well. We'd only met a few times with my parents. Then I went out with him for the night. He..." She shut her eyes, to block out the memory only in vain.

"Mel-"

"I swear I wasn't drinking or-or anything. I trusted him and I don't know." She started to cry.

Tommy sat up and gently took her hands. "Mel, Amelia, you know I don't give a fuck about that. If you were drunk or whatever. It was his fucking fault for doing that to you. You didn't do anything wrong." He could only surmise what she was talking about. It would kill him to hear the graphic details of the assault. And it wouldn't do anything to help the anger boiling in his blood.

"I didn't say anything, I didn't know how to say it. But then I got pregnant and my mother-she..." Amelia hiccupped.

Tommy's thumb stroked gently over the top of her hand. "S'alright, love." He tried to soothe her. But what could he say? It was done and now Amelia had to pick up the pieces of everything, to live with the memory. What could Tommy say to help? No words seemed to do the trick.

"She called me a whore; said I was being loose all over the fucking city." Her tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She didn't move to wipe them because she didn't want Tommy to let go of her hands. "I told her the truth. She told my dad and he said I was a liar. They believed him over me." She couldn't say anymore, it was too much.