If I Can't Have you

(51) The Baby

"Relax, I know what I'm doing," Tommy assures, dropping a kiss to Jemimas shoulder, as his arms work their way around her waist resting just below the baby bump.

"Are you ready?" Tommy asks, and she nods her head, sighing in relief as Tommy gently lifts the bump, relieving some of the strain in Jemimas back from the baby she'd been carrying around for almost seven months.

"This feels nice," Jemima says, leaning her head back against his shoulder, "do you think it's going to be a girl or a boy?"

"I want a daughter - but based on my side of the family, it's highly unlikely she'll be the first born," Tommy responds, "it doesn't matter what they are though, they're ours and we will love them unconditionally."

"Even if they don't like horses?" Jemima teases.

"Even if they don't like horses," Tommy confirms, chuckling.

"Have you heard anything from Churchill yet?" Jemima asks.

"No," Tommy responds.

-

"So you forgave him... typical," Maggie scoffs, standing beside Jemima was stood at the bar, with Arlo.

"And you've waited until she's eight months pregnant," Arlo responds, "typical, not wanting a confrontation until you perceive the person it's with as weaker."

"Why are you so invested in her life?" Arlo asks, "is it because you don't have one yourself? You're miserable so you feel the need to spread your misery and contempt for life throughout the city?"

"What do you want?"

"Was just wondering how you could forgive Tommy for doing the same thing that you couldn't forgive Logan for," Maggie shrugs, taking a sip from her drink.

"You assaulted Tommy, don't try and act like he wanted what you did, don't act like it was anything less than that," Jemima states, "that's the reason I could forgive him, you gave him no choice, you waited until he was fucking drunk... just like you've waited until I'm eight months pregnant. You chose a moment where you thought him weak."

"I could have him if I wanted him," Maggie says.

"Don't kid yourself," Jemima laughs.

"Are you laughing at me?" Maggie asks, her tone turning cantankerous.

"Yes," Jemima nods, "Tommy has no interest in you, or your diseases."

"Don't think I won't hit you even with the bastard inside of you," Maggie threatens.

"No the hell you will not," Arlo says, standing in front of his sister.

None of the three knew when Esmé had arrived, or how long she had been stood there for, but the woman suddenly had a blade pressed to Margaret's throat, "say that again. I. Fucking. Dare. You."

"You again," Margaret groans, looking worriedly down at Esmés hand.

"Me again," Esmé smiles chillingly.

"Woah- woah, Esmé," John says, coming over and gently pushing the knife away from Margaret, "we don't stab people in the pub."

"You're right," Esmé nods, handing it to him, drawing her hand back and aiming her fist at Margaret's face, the woman stumbling back clutching a bloody nose.

"Get the fuck out of this pub," Esmé states, and Margaret all but runs out of the establishment.

"What happened?" John asks.

"She threatened Jemima," Esmé says.

-

"You don't hit women, Thomas," Polly states firmly.