Polly-Anna Wallace first met Thomas Shelby through her younger sister, Amber.
Polly was thirteen, and Amber was seven, she had just ran full-force into the back of John Shelby who was, at the time, carrying a loaf of bread home to his mother, Mabel. Since Thomas was older than the two crumpled up on the floor, he went on the look out for whoever the blonde haired (almost strawberry, actually), hoodlum belonged to and came across another blonde, but less energetic woman at number 4 Artillery Square.
Thomas had always been grateful for growing up on Watery Lane, anything beat the drab looking block of flats that was Artillery Square. Nothing was unique, less so than his street, and everyone just looked so... done with their existence.
She looked, to Thomas, tired and older than what she actually was. Like a mother who'd been trying her best to hold down the fort whilst their husband was away at work. In reality, she was just a thirteen year old who was trying to keep her ill step-mother a secret, to keep the family as one.
If she had lost her sister to the system, she wouldn't be able to forgive herself, or her father for abandoning the families ship.
"Amber, what in the good graces have you—" Polly-Anna cut herself off, staring up at the taller blue eyed boy with confusion. "Sorry, can I help you?" Her voice, in that very second changed from a caring tone to one of accusation.
Thomas stood, hands clasped quite firmly behind his back. The woman, or at least the pathetic attempt of a child pretending to be one, made his blood almost boil. How could someone let a child of no older than eight loose in the streets of Small Heath without a care? How could—
forgive me father, for my thoughts are not pure. Thomas thought to himself, hands wiping down the sides of his trouser legs before extending one towards the grumpy girl.
Simply to be polite.
Polly-Anna glanced down at his hand before finding his eyes again. But she didn't leave his hand in limbo for long- but the shake was just a formality. Those two still had a look of hatred and vengeance floating in their eyes.
"I'm Thomas Shelby, and your sister— I assume she's your sister, ran into the back of our John. Thought it'd be polite to bring the crying child back here instead of leave her out by Comptons Chemist."
Christ, Amber! Polly-Anna thought, pulling the girl into her chest once she had dropped the hold she had on Thomas Shelby's hand.
After a quick once over to make sure the girl with the puffy pink eyes and tear stained cheeks was mostly okay, she sent her on her way to their shared room. If anything happened to Amber, anything serious and needed medical attention, the hopes of those two staying as a family would quickly wash down the drain like dirty water from the sink.
Had their mother not been plagued with an affliction of the mind, then it wouldn't have been such a scare that Thomas Shelby stood in her kitchen after her sister ran into the back of his brother. It wouldn't be what caused the pit in her stomach to grow.
She could not lose Amber over this!
"Well— I suppose I should thank you then, Thomas Shelby."
His blue eyes did not drop from her face, his eyebrows didn't unknit themselves, the lines on his face only deepened.
"Can't I at least know your name? After all, I was the perfect gentleman." The scowl that had been on his face was quickly wiped away and replaced with a smile.
A cheeky little smile that almost, almost, broke the cold exterior of Polly-Anna's.
She almost smiled back and she couldn't remember the last time she had done that for anyone other than Amber or her mother. It scared her— no, no, that's too tame of a word. It frightened the soul from her body, almost enough for the devil to wrap his hands around it.
Should she? If she did, what did she have to lose, other than the small scrap of dignity she still had.
Oh, sod it, she thought to herself.
"Polly-Anna, and that over there," she paused, turning slightly to point at a sullen Amber, "is my little sister, Amber-Jack."
Had their father not been so much of a gambler, Amber wouldn't have been named after the horse that had won the grand national and the Darby horse race that year. Maybe she would have been named Abigail, something less- horse related.
"Parents into horses?" Thomas asked, finally stuffing his hands into his pockets.
Polly-Anna shrugged in response. Who knew what her father was into anymore, and her step-mother? She loved to watch the leaves fall in the peaceful wind, to escape the mayhem that was her mind.
"I guess you could say that." She paused, taking a rather dangerous step towards the man- boy, she only knew the name of. "Uhm, do you have somewhere to be, or is there a reason you're still lingering in my kitchen?"
Thomas paled, why was he still in the kitchen? Why hadn't he left the minute he knew the little girl was okay-- why in Gods name did he need to ask for her name? He didn't want to put a name to the face he didn't want to see again.
Or, that was what he kept telling himself.
It would have been such a lie, because the girl that stood before him was like a puzzle. Like a Shakespearean novel fuelled with hidden meanings, peculiarities and things that would taunt his dreams like a creation of the devil itself.
"Sorry-- I'll be seeing you." Thomas called out, quickly turning on his feet without hesitations.
No, no you won't, Polly-Anna thought to herself. She didn't want to see him again, at least- not in her own house where she had no means escape. Against all of the internal monologue she had done, her head betrayed her with a nod.
"Bye-bye now, Mister Thomas!" Little Amber called out from the other room, just before Polly-Anna shut the door.
As the two Wallace's watch the Shelby boy walk down towards the stairwell of the building, Polly-Anna noticed two things. He was a tall boy, maybe six foot, or taller- or at least he was to her. When he had been in her kitchen, his head could've touched the light shade had he been stood in a different position. The second thing she had noticed, was his face. The light dusting of freckles that littered the bridge of his nose, trickling down to his cheeks stood out from his alabaster skin.
They were so very faint, hardly noticeable, but she had a keen eyes. He didn't look young, nor old- a perfect balance of innocence from age but mature from nature. He would be a fine young man in the future, she just hoped it wouldn't be a future she'd have to witness from any distance.
"Now, Amber-Jack. Do you want to tell me why you didn't come straight home from schooling?" Polly-Anna asked, neither scolding nor codling the girl.
Amber shrugged, her eyes glancing to every wall, every picture frame that hung so proudly against the discoloured wallpaper. Only when Polly-Anna was crouched in front of her, did she dare to lay her eyes on her big sister, in fear of facing an angry mother-figure.
"I— I wanted to play..." her voice came out in a meek, tiny whisper.
The elder brought a hand up to the little ones face, wiping away the stray tears that had fallen. She wanted her to know that she wasn't angry, or upset with her- but Polly-Anna was never a good person to correctly display her emotions.
"You just had me worried, is all, Amber. We don't want to raise too many brows, now do we?"
Amber shook her head, bringing a closed fist to her face- rubbing her eye roughly. That girl didn't need to fear everything that Polly did, she needed to live her life to the fullest... but what if the fullest still wasn't good enough?
"Alright, now, enough crying. You're okay, and Thomas says the little boy John is fine too. We'll bake them a cake as a peace offering on the weekend, okay?"
If only their mother, Esther, was well enough to do this for them, but if Polly-Anna kept thinking of the 'what-ifs' then she'd probably have a restless night for the rest of her life. But the one what if she would be thinking about when she laid her head against her pillow that night, was what if Thomas Shelby and Polly-Anna Wallace had met under different circumstances.
Maybe the glimpse into the future would be one of laughter and happiness, and not the one full of sorrow- but only fate could decide on how those two wandering souls intertwined.