Prove It {P.G.}

Chapter 2

Lilian was woken by rapid knocks on her door. She flipped open her pocket watch to check the time.

12:33 p.m.

She groaned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she stood and moved to the door. Opening it, she looked down to see Finn.

"Hey, Finn. What's up?" she asked. He didn't have his usual happy expression. This worried her.

"Aunt Pol says they need you downstairs. Arthur's hurt," he explained. She planted a swift kiss on his head with a thank you before rushing down the stairs. She pinned her hair up quickly as she stormed into the parlor.

"The fuck's going on? Finn said something about Arthur being hurt?" she asked, searching the room.

"I'm fine, Lil," Arthur groaned. Ada was boiling water as John and Polly watched on. Lilian stopped in front of him, crouching down on the floor to survey his injuries. She had trained as a nurse before moving to Birmingham years ago.

"Like hell you are," she seethed. She hated when the boys got hurt because even though they weren't related by blood, they were still her family.

"John, wipe the blood out of his eye," Ada instructed. John groaned.

"Since when did you give orders?"

"Oh, quit complaining, John. I'll do it," Lilian said with an eye roll. The entire group turned to look at her with questioning glances. "I trained as a nurse before I moved here. Seen a hell of a lot worse than this, if I'm honest." There was a collective cringe among the group, and they returned to their conversation teasing Ada about getting kicked out of training. Dampening to mood, Tommy entered with a bottle of rum. He handed the bottle to Lilian, who soaked a rag and began cleaning the wounds. Polly was finishing wrapping Arthur's thumb as he spoke.

"He said Mr. Churchill sent him to Birmingham." Ada brought over the water, and Lilian continued working. "National interest, he said. He said there'd been a robbery." Lilian noticed the sharp glare Polly shot to Thomas. "He said he wants us to help him," Arthur said.

"We don't help coppers," John scoffed.

"He knew all about our war records. He said we're patriots like him. He said he wants us to be his eyes and ears," Arthur continued. He tried to brush off Lilian as she cleaned his wounds in an effort to see Tommy, but she swatted his hand away with a serious expression. "I told him we'd have a family meeting and a vote." He and Thomas stared at each other. "Why not? We have no truck with Communists. Or Fenians." Thomas remained silent. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Polly, what is wrong with him lately?"

"If I knew, I'd buy the cure from Compton's Chemists," she said. Lilian smirked at the remark, catching Polly's gaze. They stared at each other for a moment before being interrupted by Thomas grabbing his coat and storming towards the door.

"Arthur, you're broken up pretty bad," he said coldly.

"Tommy!" Polly scolded, but he was already gone. She rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair, lighting a new cigarette. Lilian continued cleaning and dressing Arthur's injuries. He tried to move her hand again.

"I swear to God and everything Holy, Arthur, if you try to move my hands again I will break your other thumb." Arthur backed off immediately, and Polly laughed. When she was finally finished, Lilian set her supplies on the table and dropped into an open chair. She pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a drag. She let it out shakily, finally coming down from the adrenaline rush that came with treating someone you love.

"Lilian Marie Clarke," Arthur said loudly. Lilian turned to face him. "The fuck's up with you?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."