Coraline Murphy

2.

1904 Small Heath, Birmingham

"Haven't seen your Rory for a while, eh?" Aunt Poll remarked as she set the plates down in front of her nephews, all of whom were exchanging glances.

"Jamie said she's been...unwell..." said Arthur carefully, picking up his fork. Tommy and John frowned at him, knowing that Jamie was rarely a source to be trusted.

"Poor girl, she must have frail health. She hasn't been for tea for some time," remarked Polly. "She seems to ail often." Her words were laden, and it didn't escape their notice.

Tommy put his knife and fork down, his young face concerned. "8 days I've not seen her, Aunt Polly," he said, quietly. "It's never been more than 6."

Polly looked from him to his brothers, her expression unreadable. "Well you're 14, Tommy," she said, "and Arthur older yet. I suggest you be paying young Miss Murphy a visit now, don't you think?"

Arthur grinned at his Aunt. "Sounds grand, Aunt Poll." He turned to Tommy. "We go tonight?"

Tommy nodded, still quiet and brooding.

"I'll come too," said John, anxious not to be left behind.

"No, not tonight, Jonny-boy," said Arthur, not unkindly. "You'll be staying here to look after Aunt Poll and our sister."

7 year old Ada rolled her eyes. "We don't need anyone to look after us, Arthur," she protested. "You're not that much older than us..."

At 17, Arthur felt very much the man of the family, and it was only natural that in the absence of their very absent father, his siblings were to do as he said. But still, he looked to Aunt Polly for support.

"Not tonight, John," she said. "But if Coraline is unwell, you can come with me tomorrow maybe to take her something to get her strength up."

John huffed but knew that if there was anyone one would lose an argument to, it would be Aunt Polly.

The family finished their meal in relative silence, all wondering how they'd find Rory Murphy. Unable to finish his full meal, Tommy excused himself, thanked Polly for the food, and headed to get his coat. Arthur followed behind him, before Polly called to them both, catching them before they left the house.

"Now you listen to me, boys," she said, her voice low enough to not be heard by Ada and John who were clearing up in the kitchen. "Whatever you find in that godforsaken place, you do not get in trouble with Rich Murphy, you hear me?"

The boys returned her stern look.

"If the rumours are true and he's as bad as they say, you get out of there fast, you understand? Don't forget, if he doesn't lay a finger on you, you can be damned sure that he will take it out on little Rory if he feels the need. You go, you check the child is alive, and you leave. Leave the rest to me."

They nodded meekly, and headed out into the freezing streets. November in Birmingham was brutal.

The two Shelby boys walked the dark roads warily, keeping an eye and an ear out for danger. The Murphy household was in one of the most deprived areas in Small Heath, and you did well to keep your wits about you.