The Balls in Our Courts [F.SxO.CxT.S]

Chapter Five

"Tell me," Tommy Shelby asked, glancing over at the girl as he drove to the train station. "Is it the age as to why you're grumpy this morning or are you thinking about mummy and daddy?" Amelia folded her arms and scooted far right. "A mix of both, I see. Amelia! I apologize deeply if what I said the other day bothered you."

"How would you feel if your parents left you?"

"Fucking shit," he agreed, but went on to explain that both of them loved Amelia, and they would come to see her, and possibly, if her attitude improved, they'd take her home. Truthfully, Tommy Shelby hadn't a fucking clue. They truly were on a six month honeymoon, fucking across the whole continent. Though, there was some truth in what Tommy had said. Amelia was exhausting, and she'd been particularly difficult for her parents. "Try not to worry about it today, Amelia, because it's nothing neither of us can do." When he turned left instead of right, Amelia sat straight and looked at him. "We're taking a little trip," he explained, looking at the watch. "But I'm afraid we are running a tad behind. We won't be able to wait for Arthur to pick up the car-"

"And may I ask where to? And just us? You and I?"

"You shouldn't feel so lucky, Amelia," he hummed. "We're going to London."

"In my tennis clothes?" she asked, pouting. "Is this why you asked Polly to do my makeup and hair this morning?"

"In your tennis clothes," he confirmed, dryly, pulling on to the curb and parking. He shoved a smoke between his lips and slid out of the car. "Through my side," he scolded, not wanting to lose his car door in traffic. She grabbed onto his hand and slid her body across the seat, jumping out. Amelia had never been on a train before. Nearly jumping in her little white trainers, she was beaming with excitement. Doing little joy dances, skipping, running ahead, and singing. Tommy sighed and bought two tickets, keeping an eye on her like he would have a toddler. She jumped on the benches, and walked across them, balancing as if it was a beam. When he'd purchased the tickets, Tommy called out, "Amelia, get off that bench right now!"

Looking back with a smile, she said, "Mr. Shelby, look! I should have been a gymnast!" With that, she did a cheeky handstand, her skirt fluttering up and her knickers on display. The commuters stopped to look, aghast by the girl's actions. An old woman whispered to her husband how teens were getting more wild each day. Tommy simply strided over, not often embarrassed.

"Amelia," he sighed, grabbing her attention. "We have to head to the platform." When she jumped off, he grabbed her hand.

She tried to get away, but he held it in a near death grip. "Mr. Shelby, why are you holding my hand!?"

"I'm anticipating you'll run off on me, and frankly, I lost the energy to run a long time ago." They made it to the platform at 7:15 am, 15 minutes from boarding. Amelia pulled at his coat and pointed at the sweet and beverage trolley. "You ate breakfast."

"Is that a no?"

"If it was a yes, darling," he said, eyes glancing down at her. "I would have given you some pence. Now, please, the train. If we miss it because of you, I'll be very upset." She pouted her bottom lip, quite thirsty. Arthur made eggs that morning, but poured too much darn salt in the yolks. They climbed up onto the train and found their compartment. She was amazed he'd been able to afford one. It was small and cozy with two booths and a table. Unlike a proper lady, she sat with her legs on the booth and leaned over the table.