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DARKNESS HUNG OVER ARROW HOUSE LIKE FOG OVER A VALLEY. The house was silent. Each brick that held up the house held hundreds of secrets. Secrets of the damned. Secrets of grief. Secrets of the past, the present and the future. The grounds were eerily still, not a tree dared to sway and not a blade of grass dared to crunch under the feet that tread it. The walls of Arrow house stood firm, the echoes of unsaid words and shunned actions bounced tirelessly.

Clara had always said she'd hated Arrow House, but now in the dreary and bleak halls, she could say she utterly despised it. It was a labyrinth of deceit. Each twist and turn leading to another spiral of despair. No places to hide or take cover. Just a straight path into madness. Lurking shadows advanced down the hall and disappeared around dark corners. She saw them move in their dark forms, taunting and teasing. The feeling of utter loneliness was enough to send a man into insanity.

A hand grasped at Clara's which caused her to inhale sharply. Charlie looked up at her in childlike wonder as he toddled alongside her. The Shelby girl notoriously disliked children, she hated them, but she chose to put her utter disdain aside as guilt and pity for the boy overtook her mind. She was slightly leaned over to accommodate the young boy's height as they walked around the house. Clara had been to Arrow house four times since Grace's death and each and every single time she rarely saw Tommy, only Charlie and Francis.

"H-hose," Charlie babbled, his hand outstretched as he pointed out the window. Clara lifted the boy up to look out the window as he laughed and pointed towards the stables.

"Horse?" Clara mused, looking at her nephew with a small smile. "I see that you take after your dad in that aspect."

Charlie continued to babble and point but Clara got distracted by the man appearing on a jet black horse over the hills. The girl watched as he grew closer to the house at a slow pace.

"Miss Shelby..?"

Clara turned to face Francis who stood awkwardly in the hall as she watched the two.

"Oh...hello, could you take Charlie?" The girl asked quickly, "If I'm late to these meetings Tommy will have my head!" She let out a small and stiff laugh as she handed Charlie over and waved goodbye as he grinned and giggled.

Francis and Charlie disappeared up a set of stairs leaving Clara all by her lonesome in the haunted halls of Arrow house. She pressed her hands to her head as a suppressed headache began to slip past the cracks. It had been an exhausting week. Tommy had fairly ignored all of his business which meant Clara was swamped with work. Along with the weight of work, Clara just couldn't seem to stop hearing about 'perfect Penny and her perfect impending nuptials' from Will. She'd bulldozed through four different bottles of cocaine in the past few days, mainly to stop her from falling asleep whilst standing upright.

Clara drifted down the hall like the ghosts she thought to reside in the house. She allowed her body to control all of her mechanical movements as she moved down the stairs slowly and silently. Above her paintings of the family stood in all their glory. Tommy with his horse. Tommy with Grace and Charlie. Grace.

Clara took a deep breath in as she looked up at the Irish woman. The tiniest sliver of her soul felt guilty that she hadn't put more effort into forgiving and accepting the woman. But only the tiniest sliver. And that was mainly because Charlie had lost a mother and Tommy had lost a wife. She mourned for them rather than with them.

"Every night since the funeral."

Clara heard Ada say as she entered the drawing-room. Ada and Pol talked quietly by the window, while they presumably watched as Tommy made his way back towards the gloomy house. Michael stood opposite them, sitting against the wood of a desk and smoking a cigarette.

"Comes back in the morning to see Charles and feed the horses, and when it gets dark, he goes off again." Ada continued with a sigh as she folded her arms.

"He used to sleep out when he was a kid." Pol said as she looked up from her newspaper. "Curly would find him in the pasture." The Aunt looked up briefly to see Clara as she lingered. "How's the baby?"

"Still small," Clara nodded as she moved to sit in an armchair. "He wants his dad...and horses...but Tommy mostly."

"He asks for his mum at night." Ada supplemented, she pushed herself away from the window and towards the desk. "Tommy made a list. He wants to see you three first."

"What about John and Arthur?" Pol questioned, taking a long sip of tea. Clara's ears pricked up as the door to the house closed with a loud click. She watched as Tommy walked through the drawing-room and right past them as if they were the ghosts the house held. She continued to watch until he was completely out of view. Another echoed click signalled that he'd entered his office.

"Suppose we should go in then?" Clara huffed as she dusted down her pants. Pol and Michael exchanged a look before they nodded and all three of them walked down the dreary hall towards Tommy's office.

Tommy's home office was no different to his office at work. It was badly lit, and the sheer curtains behind him were drawn, letting in just enough light to illuminate the desk and work. An oak desk was placed by the window and resembled Clara's desk in the way that papers were stacked high and loose bits were strewn across the wood.

Pol and Michael sat down on the two seats in front of Tommy as the man didn't pause to bat an eyelid at their appearance in his office. Clara opted to stand in between Michael and Pol, her eyes drifted over her brother's dishevelled clothes and appearance.

"How are the books?" Tommy eventually asked, his focus still on the work he was scribbling away at.

"Unaffected," Pol answered,

"Up slightly," Michael added.

"By roughly two percent," Clara folded her arms as her brother kept working.

"There's also been a threefold increase in donations to the Shelby Foundation charity." Michael continued, "The counsellor suggested naming the new school 'The Grace Shelby Institute.'"

Clara solemnly watched as her brother stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray before he restlessly moved papers and pens around. He took a deep breath in as his hands clasped.

"Tell the counsellor the name 'Grace Shelby Institute' is acceptable to us." Tommy sniffed briefly. "This is a list of the other things I want doing." He held out a piece of paper, which Clara stepped forward to take. She glanced over it before handing it off to Pol. "That's all."

Michael cleared his throat as he stood from the chair, beckoning his head at Clara to follow.

"Tommy," Pol quietly began,

"That's all, Pol." Tommy dismissed. The woman lingered for a few seconds before she shook her head and walked off. Clara watched as her brother continued to shuffle through work before he eventually whacked a pile onto the floor.

"Well done, all three of you." Tommy huffed, Michael and Pol left but Clara merely clacked her tongue in her mouth as she shifted.

"Charlie needs you." Clara bluntly told him, his cold, dreary and lifeless eyes locking on her own. "He needs you, so don't become another ghost in his life."

She didn't even await a reaction as she left her brother to dwell in his office. Perhaps she was harsh. He was mourning. He deserved time to mourn, but he wasn't the only one affected. Clara knew all too well what losing a mother was like, what having a distant father was like— hell, all her siblings knew.

She may not be fond of kids (kids like Karl Thorne) but Charlie was different. Charlie didn't deserve to go through that.

The past shouldn't have to be repeated.

When she caught up to Michael and Pol as they walked into the drawing-room, she spotted Arthur and John by the fire, the former standing up upon seeing them enter.

"Right, let's go," he announced,

"Uh, we've already seen him." Pol tentatively spoke, gesturing to Clara and Michael. Arthur and John immediately turned to Ada.

"He wanted to see people in a particular order." Their sister shrugged,

"I can normally read him, but he's difficult to read, so be careful," Pol warned, looking more at John.

"I thought it was a fucking family meeting." John grunted, "All of us together, I thought."

"John, he's grieving." Pol reminded. "To see everyone together would be too much."

"Yeah, well... Come on, John." Arthur patted his brother on the shoulder as he began to walk toward Tommy's office.

"Arthur, we need him back," Pol called after him.

"Yesterday and the day before both, Sabini and Solomons, sent condolences and flowers," Clara told them. "They arrived at the offices."

"It won't be long before they come trotting up the A1 like wolves." Pol spat,

"Go on. There's a timetable." Ada forcefully urged,

"Only good news." Pol sternly instructed,

"There is only good news, Polly."

Clara lit a cigarette as her brothers disappeared into Tommy's office and the door shut behind them. She glanced towards the grand clock and softly swore.

"Well, I'm off," She declared as she blew out a thick cloud of smoke. "I've got flowers and condolences to burn."

Clara didn't look back once as she left the house, snatching her coat on the way out. She had far more important and pressing matters to deal with. And so she fled the haunted grounds, her soul feeling heavier than ever.

☆

CLARA GLANCED DOWN AT HER POCKET WATCH. It was nine-thirty in the evening and the lively atmosphere of the Chain pub was no longer as invigorating as Clara had once found it to be. You see, the more of London she experienced, the more dull Small Heath became. Small Heath was her home, and don't get her wrong, she loved it. Nothing could compare to familiarity, but, London...London was everything she craved.

As she sat at the bar top, an untouched whiskey in front of her and a cigarette perched between her lips, Clara looked around in search of a familiar face. The door to the pub opened up and in walked the very person she waited for. The girl turned in her seat to face away from the person as they approached.

"Gin on the rocks, please,"

Then there was a small gap of silence until the drink was placed down.

"So...you got my letter," Clara began as she inhaled a large breath of chemicals. She turned her head to the side to finally acknowledge the other person.

Clara swore that if she could see one colour for the rest of her days, it would be the blue frequently worn by the girl beside her. Penny Crawford looked just as she had all those years ago, just even more gorgeous if that was possible. Her rounded cherub cheeks had thinned with maturity and her eyelashes were longer and thicker. She adorned a blue dress, a newer design, unlike the girlish one she'd worn countless times in her youth. She looked more proper, her shoulders were back and her posture was straight.

"Yeah...I got the letter," Penny answered quietly, as she picked up her drink and swirled it. She took a big gulp of her drink before she spoke again. "Why?"

"Just asking–"

"No, why did you send me a letter?" Penny interrupted. Clara let out a breathy laugh as she nodded her head and swigged from her whiskey glass.

"Angel, I heard you're to be married," Clara said swiftly, "I presume there's going to be no invitation for me?"

"No," Penny faltered at the nickname as she looked around cautiously. "I mean, I'm getting married, yes, but no, there's no invitation for you."

Clara pouted teasingly, "Guess I'll just have to be Will's plus one," she shrugged, "you wound me, truly."

"Don't come, Clara," Penny shook her head in warning.

"And why not?"

"I don't want you there,"

"You see, I would believe that if you didn't come tonight...but you did, so I don't."

The two stared at one another. Clara's eyes darted from Penny's lips to her eyes, oh god, those eyes she once found herself getting lost in were now barred up and chained away, no longer allowing the girl easy access.

"So...who's the lucky man?" Clara drawled, "it is a man, right?...because I mean, I know that you liked wo—"

"Shush!" Penny hissed as her cheeks blushed beetroot. "You don't know anything!"

"You never answered my question," Clara pointed out, downing the rest of her drink and signalling for another.

"Anthony Margrave," Penny said shortly,

"Anthony Margrave," Clara tested the name, "Penny Margrave...Nah, that doesn't sound quite right...Peh-knee Marrr gray-veh...see what I mean?"

"Anthony is a fine man," Penny stiffly defended, "He's a fine man with great morals and a spotless reputation."

"Boring," the girl sang monotonously, "and I think you forgot to mention rich on your list of redeeming qualities." Penny's crimson cheeks darkened even more. "He's the son of Harvey Margrave, a politician in the House of Lords? Right? Wow...didn't know you were into that sort of thing."

"I'm not in it for the money!" Penny snapped,

"The sex?" Clara abruptly asked,

"You can't ask questions like that in public!" The blonde girl looked around in embarrassment. Clara stared in amusement watching as the wonders of finishing school graced Penny. "It's improper."

"This whole pub is improper, I'm pretty sure someone is having a wank in the corner, but welcome to Small Heath, Angel,"

"Don't call me that," Penny scowled.

"Would you prefer Lady Margrave? Perhaps you'd prefer me to curtsy before you?"

"I'm leaving,"

"No, no, no, wait, c'mon," Clara laughed, "let's just have a drink like old times, eh?"

"Old times?"

"Yep,"

Penny sighed and sat back down, her hands clasped around her drink as her fingers tapped against the glass.

"So...do you love him?" Clara tentatively asked with her eyebrows raised. Penny seemed to love so easily with her, did she love him as she'd once loved her?

"Yes," Penny hesitatingly answered as her face twisted, it was only a millisecond of hesitation but Clara caught it and warmth of hope glowed inside of her body.

"You don't sound all that convinced," Clara commented,

"I love him!" Penny snapped, her nose scrunched as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear in discontent.

"Whatever you say, Angel, but I know you."

"God, you are so frustrating!"

"So I've been told," Clara nodded with a grimace,

"Why can't you accept that I'm happy?" Penny's face scrunched up as she spoke.

"I never said you weren't happy, Penny," The Shelby girl sighed as she gulped her whiskey. "I just wonder..."

"Wonder what?" The blonde gritted, her curiosity biting into her. Clara didn't answer right away, she just allowed her eyes to scan the other girl's face for any sign or indication that this Penny was the Alice she'd fallen down a rabbit hole for.

"I wonder why you've been lying to me," Clara said bluntly, "all this talk about being happy...but you don't love him, you scrunched your nose, that's your tell that you're lying. As I said, I know you."

"I haven't been lying!" Penny huffed, her muscles in her face attempting to still but her nose still twitched.

"Yet another lie," Clara pointed out, "look I didn't invite you here to argue. I came to make amends. We were friends before we were...well you know what we were—"

"We were foolish kids," Penny supplied,

"Perhaps, but nevertheless, before that, we were friends and damn good ones."

"That's why you called me here? To ask me to be friends again?" Penny laughed through a scoff, "You do realise that you sound like a child right now?"

"Some would argue that I'm being the bigger person," Clara sniffed, "look, it's been two years since we've talked, I haven't even seen you."

"For good reason," Penny argued, "Clara the fact you're sitting here asking me to be your friend after everything is ridiculous."

"Maybe," She mused, "or maybe it's an attempt to get to know somebody I lost with time."

Penny was silent as Clara finished her drink and placed the glass on the bar counter. The two girls sat so far apart. Their limbs tucked in as they avoided all sense of touch.

"You hurt me, Clara," Penny's voice was quieter as she spoke up. Clara's tongue glided over her lip in thought as she did so.

"I know..."

"Do you? I gave you everything, my heart included and you couldn't share the sentiment."

"I couldn't. Not when you said it." Clara admitted, "Life was messy, it still is, but I'm not asking you to forgive me. I'm sorry you got hurt but that's all." She paused. "I'm not asking you to forgive me, but allow me and you to at least be acquaintances again."

"I don't know if I can," Penny whispered,

"That's fine," Clara pursed her lips, "look, tomorrow I leave for London. I have business there two days from now..." she turned to completely face the girl. "Come with me. One night. One night is all I ask. You and me, eh?" Clara placed a few coins on the bar counter as she stood. "You have my phone number, if you don't call I'll presume you turned my offer down and I won't try to contact you again. If you do call?...well I guess I'll talk to you soon."

Clara walked towards the door before she faltered and turned around only to see Penny's eyes following her figure.

"Blue is still your colour by the way," Clara noted while one of her brows raised. "You look good, Angel."

With that Clara left the boisterous pub and dug her hands into her pockets. She felt the empty blue bottle brush against the beneath of her fingertips. She'd taken a hearty dose of the snow before meeting with Penny.

Could you blame her?

Clara found herself mentally planning her trip to London as she walked through the dark streets. The darkness no longer scared her. She was older now, older and wiser...and also in possession of a revolver beneath her jacket. She was quite content in her odds.

The business in London mainly revolved around checking some documents in various areas but this she was ordered to collect and bring back as per Tommy's wish list. It was a simple job, one that wouldn't take any longer than half an hour, however, she had other business there too. Business in which she'd have to postpone if Penny was to join her. Business which wasn't actually business at all.

Clara entered her home and escaped the chill of Small Heath's sunless streets. She shrugged off her jacket and looked towards the living room where the fire was roaring. Tendrils of flames shot out and urged her to approach. Clara's fingers mindlessly drifted across the faint burn scars on her hand. The fire had left blotchy patches of red and pink across her palm, blotches that were yet to fade.

As she approached the living room slowly, her eyes swept over the room as she saw Finn sprawled out across the sofa. His limbs hung limply over the side whilst soft snores escaped his mouth. The distinct smell of whiskey flooded her senses as she grew closer to her younger brother. Her hand wrapped around a glass of water beside the sofa before she promptly dumped it over his head.

Finn darted up with a sharp and panicked gasp as he inhaled deeply and rapidly. His startled eyes darted around the room in terror before he sucked in a deep breath of air. He ran a hand through his soaked hair as he furiously turned towards his smirking sister.

"What the fuck!" He snapped as he pulled at his wet collar and shirt.

"Put the fire out and go to bed upstairs," Clara shrugged, "Don't give me that look! The shop's open tomorrow morning first thing, do you really want to be woken up by screams and yells?" Finn opened his mouth before she cut him off. "Yeah, didn't think so, you should be thanking me."

"I'm not gonna bloody thank you," Finn grumbled as he blearily rubbed his eyes. He clumsily stood and grabbed the glass from Clara and as he brushed past her to get water, she heard him muttering something along the lines of 'Bloody witch, demon spawn, bastard.'

"Night, Finny boy," Clara chuckled as she climbed the stairs. "Sweet dreams!"

A distant echo of "fuck you!" followed her as she ascended. The girl held the bannister and carefully walked across the landing. She peered into Tommy's vacant bedroom which had been cleared of everything but a bed and dresser. It was the bedroom of a ghost. Or a memory of a ghost.

Now the only person that used the bare bedroom was John when he wanted to escape his children or Isiah when he and Finn would come back to the house pissed drunk and off their heads. The girl shut the bedroom door firm as she carried down the hall to her room. Her bedroom had not changed a lot over the years. It was sparsely decorated with clothes strewn everywhere. The large dresser still held a cracked mirror that reflected the moonlight from outside. She mulled around her room as she ripped off her waistcoat and fell into bed in her pants and shirt still on. She turned over in the bed and pressed her face into her pillow.

Her face remained smashed into the pillow until a shrill noise erupted from below her. She ignored the sound as it rang through the house and she mentally begged and pleaded for it to end. In the room next door, Finn banged on the wall that was directly connected to Clara's to try to force her to get up; so with a heavy groan, she rolled off of her bed and trekked downstairs towards the wailing.

The sound pierced through all of the silence in the home and incessantly bounced around Clara's ears. With heavy and sluggish limbs she picked up the ringing phone.

"Hello?" She huffed tiredly into the receiver.

"...what time do you leave?"

Clara suddenly felt wide awake as she smiled at Penny's crackled voice coming through the receiver. The girl swiftly pulled over a chair to sit while she talked.

"Four tomorrow night?"

"I'll be there at quarter to,"

The Shelby girl let out a low laugh, "Suit yourself, I'll see you then," she replied, her smile unwavering.

There was a pause.

"I'll see you then."

Penny hesitated for a few more seconds before the line was cut and the call ended. Clara slowly placed down the phone with a half-smile. She slowly stood to her feet and with a small, knowing laugh she ascended the stairs for the last time that night.

☆

HELLO MY GORGEOUS READERS!

This is a shortish chapter but the next chapter is a long one and it's gonna be juicy!

How is everyone on this fine Friday? I am currently stressed because I'm entering exam season which isn't fun 😭

ANYWAYS, I love you all and here's your weekly meme ;)

(And an extra one just because)