𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟎𝟏

Francesca was sat upon her windowsill with a cigarette balancing between her fingers as she hung half outside the window when she heard quick, boisterous footsteps heading toward her door. In a panic, she reached for the ashtray that she had placed on her bed. Her fingertips scraped the edge of it and just as the door began to open, Francesca fell from the windowsill and toppled to the floor.

"What are you doing on the floor?" Finn's young voice asked her as he raised a brow.

Francesca peered over the bed and blew a piece of her hair from her face. "Oh— it's you." She sighed with relief. Finn sat himself upon her bed and reached for the box of cigarettes.

She slapped his hand away and sat opposite him. "What d'ya think you're doing? You're ten— you can't be smoking." She scolded him. Finn crossed his arms. "I'm eleven Sunday." He reminded her.

She hummed and pressed the cigarette that she had been smoking into the ashtray. "And eleven year olds don't smoke." She pressed a finger to his cheek. He scoffed and shoved her hand away. "It's snowing outside Francis, will you come outside with me so we can throw snowballs at Mr Steven's house?" He asked.

Francesca peered out of the window. "Will nobody else go with you?"

"I asked Ada.. she told me to fuck off. Then I asked John and he said he was going to the pub with Arthur." Finn sighed. Francesca thought for a moment. "And Tommy?" She suggested. "He's not home— and even if he was, I wouldn't want to go with him anyway." Finn told her with a shake of his head.

"I don't blame you." She grinned. Francesca threw her legs over the edge of her bed to pull on her boots. "You do me a favour.. if you can go and get my coat from my wardrobe, i'll come outside with you." She bargained.

Finn looked at his sister and then at the wardrobe. And then back at his sister. "Aunt Pol is right— you are a lazy bastard." He insulted, getting down from the bed and trotting over to the wardrobe.

The red haired girl grinned to herself and searched for her gloves in her bedside table. Inside the drawer was another pack of cigarettes as well as some of John's cocaine that she had managed to steal. Suddenly, the impact of her coat made her gasp as Finn threw it at her head.

She closed her eyes briefly and let out a breath. "Finn Shelby you are lucky that I love you." She scolded, pulling the fur jacket over her arms.

Finn laughed proudly and waited for her to stand before making his way downstairs. He went to retrieve his shoes and Francis got his coat from the hook and handed it to him.

"And where are you two off to?" Polly asked, looking at them over her newspaper.

"We're going to throw snowballs at—" Finn began but Francesca was quick to cup a hand over his mouth. "We're going to build a snowman, Pol. That's all." She smiled innocently at their aunt. Polly eyed her with suspicion and just grunted. "You have him back before it's dark."

"I know—" Francesca shouted as they were half way out the door. She had his hat in her hand and offered it to him. "No, I don't need a hat." He refused. She scoffed and shoved it onto his head. "Just because you're almost eleven doesn't mean you escape wearing the hat." She said.

He rolled his eyes and leaned down to scoop up a pile of snow. He was quick to spin and launch it at his sister but missed as she was no longer stood there. And then he felt the cold sting as snow travelled down the back of his shirt.

He squealed and jumped away from where he was standing to see Francesca stood with a mischievous grin that made her look like John.

"Francis—" he gasped, moving like he had worms down his pants.

"You were gonna get me first!" She argued, shaking her head. The tip of her nose was burning red as well as her cheeks. "We came out here to throw snow there, remember." She pointed a finger at the house.

The house where William Steven resided. He was a middle aged man who held a certain hatred toward the two trouble causers. Which obviously only provoked them to cause more trouble.

They both scooped up large amounts of snow and sculpted them into balls before standing dangerously close to it and looking at each other. Finn counted down and then they threw them, watching the snow scatter across the glass window before they scurried away.

Finn held onto his older sister's hand whilst they ran and they laughed loudly.

"You bastard kids!" They heard the voice of the man as he shook his fist whilst they ran. Francis turned to look at the man and blew him a kiss. She pulled Finn round the corner and onto Garrison Lane where they happened to collide into someone.

She looked up, ready to start arguing with whoever it was they had bumped into.

It was Tommy. Of course it was Tommy.

"Do you want to watch where you're going?" Francesca hissed at him. Tommy looked down at her, his hands buried deep into his pockets. "You should really check before you walk around corners, y'know." She added.

Finn looked between his two siblings with curiosity.

"What are you two doing out at this time?" Tommy asked with not a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

"Never you mind." Francesca said with her arms crossed over her chest.

"You best not be causing any trouble." Tommy warned her. "Or what? What do you care anyway?" Francesca challenged him. Tommy tutted and looked down at his time piece. "I think it's time you return Finn home. Don't you?"

Finn looked up at her and shook his head.

"But Tom— we've only just came out here!" Finn argued with his brother, his voice laced with annoyance. Francesca stared down at her feet and whilst Tommy had turned to look at Finn, she kicked a pile of snow in Tommy's direction, covering his shined shoes.

He stopped mid sentence and closed his eyes in frustration. "How old are you Francesca?"

"Twenty four." She flashed him a cheeky smile.

"Act like it." Tommy leaned in slightly, looking at her with frustration. It took everything in her not to burst out laughing. "And how old are you, Tom?" She asked.

"Twenty nine." He answered.

"Really? Jesus Christ, Tom. It really does show." She teased, examining his face. Tommy inhaled sharply and refrained from sending an insult her way. "Get Finn home." He ordered.

"Get Finn home.." She mimicked in a whisper once he turned the corner.

She stepped out into the empty road. "And where are you going whilst I take this one home?" She shouted.

"The pub." Tommy shouted back without turning to look at her.

She shook her head and took Finn's hand again. "Francis, do we really have to go home? I don't want to go yet." He complained. Francesca shrugged. "I suppose a few more minutes won't hurt."

Finn smiled widely at her and pulled her along. "This is why you're my favourite." He whispered at her with a finger to his lips.

"I don't think that's a secret, Finny. Anyone with a brain could figure that out." She whispered back.

—

Francesca found herself pushing open the door of the Garrison after returning the young Shelby home. It was fairly busy and provided warmth after being out in the cold. "Francesca—" Harry, the barman, greeted her with a welcoming smile. "What can I get you, love?"

"Surprise me." She said, tucking her red hair behind her ears.

Harry nodded and turned to make her a drink.

"What're you doing here?" A voice came from her side as an arm was flung around her shoulder. She turned her head to see John who was wearing his same smile and his wonky cap. "I'm here to have a drink— is that alright with you?" She asked with her voice laced with sarcasm.

"Perfectly fine with me, Francis." He nodded, sneaking his hand into her pocket to try and take her cigarettes but she was quick to notice and she grabbed his hand. "I'll have them." She stopped him, taking them back.

John sighed and stepped away.

"Here you are— on the house." Harry slid the drink toward her.

"Thank you." She nodded, shoving John lightly to get him to move. He scowled at her and walked back toward the snug where the rest of their brothers were. "Look who's came to join us." John said.

Francesca closed the door behind her and sat opposite Arthur.

"I thought I told you to go home." Tommy stated. She shifted her gaze to him. "No— you told me to take Finn home. You didn't tell me to go home." She corrected, reaching for the stack of cards that sat in the middle of the table. "Anyway, i'm a grown woman. I'll do what I please." She shrugged.

Arthur chuckled to himself and sipped his whiskey. "She's had you there, Tom."

"Shut up Arthur." Tommy mumbled.

Francis took a deep breath and began shuffling he cards. "Rumour has it that there's a new police inspector on his way here. They say he's coming for the communists." She gossiped.

Tommy raised a brow. "And how do you know about that?" He asked.

"Yeah— how do you know about that?" Arthur chimed in.

"When you know people, it isn't hard to find out things." She said honestly. "Oh and you know people do you?" John asked jokingly. She began dealing the cards. "I know a lot of people actually. Half of them are your friends." She tormented him, watching his face drop immediately.

"Just play the bloody hand." Arthur scolded the twins.

"That's what i'm bloody doing!" Francesca snapped at him.

Arthur held his hands up in defence and took his pile.

"What else do you know?" Tommy continued. She glanced at him. "Wouldn't you like to know.." she mumbled. John placed a card down from the middle pile to start the game of poker. "She's probably lying anyway." He accused.

"I am not." She said calmly. "I never tell lies. And even if I did—you'd never know it was a lie." She said with a shrug.

"You two act like children." Arthur tutted.

John and Francesca exchange a glance and grinned but said nothing.

"Well Johns got enough of them. It shouldn't surprise you." Francesca brought up. John nodded and didn't argue. "Fair enough.." he accepted.

Francesca loved John's children. He had four children from his late wife Martha. Two girls, two boys. There was Katie and Annie and then Henry and James. And any time they were causing havoc, it happened to have stemmed from one of Francesca's ideas.

John didn't mind that though — he was just as troublesome as his twin. He found it ever so entertaining. He sat back and watched once when Henry chucked a glass of water over a hungover, sleeping Arthur who woke up in a panic.

Of course, there stood Francesca giggling in the corner whilst John held back his laughs.

Everybody always thought it would have been Francesca who had kids first but she felt she wasn't in any rush to have a child. In fact, she wanted to wait as long as she could before having one. She enjoyed being young and didn't want to have such a big commitment at her young age.

"When are you going to have kids Tommy?" She asked, knowing that Arthur too was in no rush. "Actually— I bet you have some secret children that you don't even know about, don't you? With all those whores you're shagging, you've probably got ten." She rambled.

John bowed his head and shielded his eyes with his hands as he began laughing at her comment. Arthur too looked away and struggled to hold on his laugh.

Tommy just stared at her. "Funny. Very funny." He said bluntly.

"Oh, come on Tommy. Smile. Maybe if you smiled every once in a while, you'd start to enjoy life a little bit more." She said with raised brows. Tommy kissed his teeth and leaned back in his chair. "I do smile— just not around you." He retorted.

She placed a hand on her chest. "I'm honoured." She gasped.

John was now in tears at her behaviour and was banging his fist against the table, clutching Arthur's sleeve for support. Yet Francesca remained with a subtle smile and Tommy a blank one. Neither Tommy or Francis knew why they had found her words so funny.

"Sorry— sorry.. come on, let's play the game." John breathed heavily, wiping his eyes and avoiding looking at Francis.

She winked at Tommy and he shook his head lightly, staring at his cards. She sat, completely satisfied and removed herself from the game to watch instead.

She found it was much more entertaining to watch than take part. She felt you could learn a lot about a person by doing that — in so many circumstances...

©-shelbysecret-

Authors Note:
- I'm giving you this the same night i've written it...

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