CHAPTER 2

Matilda glanced at Billy who lay on the bed, the bedsheets covering his lower half. She picked up her clothes from the floor and quickly changed back into them. "How's ya mum." He said randomly, his hand on his stomach as his chest heaved up and down.

"She's okay.." she said bluntly, buttoning up the front buttons of her dress.

He hummed lightly and held the sheets in place as he sat up, sniffing. "She still not working?" He asked, running a hand through his dark hair. Tilly shook her head, wiping underneath her eyes.

"Why do you ask?" She wondered, shrugging her jacket onto her shoulders.

"My mum was asking me earlier but I had no clue, thought i'd ask you." Billy spoke, watching as she fixed her hair.

Matilda's eyes were fixed on the dark red hair ribbon that sat underneath Billy's desk. She bit her tongue, knowing it wasn't hers.

Matilda hated red. And she only
ever wore blue or white ribbons.

"What're you looking at?" He questioned, curious as to what had caught her eye. "Nothing, just wondering where my ribbon has went," she said, kneeling down and picking up the red one.

"Since when do you wear red ones?" he chuckled, standing and putting on his underwear.

She hummed, "couldn't find my blue one." She shrugged.

Billy nodded and placed a kiss on her cheek before slipping out of the bedroom to shower.

A red ribbon. Such a small thing
that played on her mind for minutes. Red. Who wore red ribbons?

Once Matilda had gathered up her things, she walked quickly down the stairs, almost walking into Billy's older brother Harry. "Oh, hello Harry," she greeted happily.

He tilted his head, "Matilda."

"When did you get back from Boston?" Matilda asked, stepping backward from him.

"The other day, i wasn't expecting to see you here." He said.

Harry and Matilda had always gotten along. Harry had a soft spot
for the younger girl, felt it was his job
to make sure she was okay, especially after the death of her father.

"Yeah, well..here i am." Matilda hummed, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"Well then, where you off too?" Harry asked, picking his coat up from the hook.

"Going to the betting den, i'm working today."

"Let me walk you, we can talk for a bit," Harry suggested, opening the door. Matilda felt as though she had no choice. She felt too bad shutting the older boy down so she smiled and followed him outside, walking close to him.

"So, anything happen whilst i've been away?"

"Not much, your brother is still working for Tommy." Matilda said, clasping her hands together as they walked. Harry kissed his teeth. "Gonna get him killed,"

"I have tried to tell him that, but he never listens to me." Matilda assured him, looking up.

"At least you've tried, eh?" He gave her a reassuring smile, throwing his arm around her shoulders.

"How was America?"

"It was good, amazing atmosphere really. You should go some time, you'd love it. Definitely a place where you would fit in, Tilly."

"Is it?" She raised an eyebrow, unsure of what he meant.

"Yeah. Full of fancy clothes stores and jewellery shops." He said in a tormenting tone. She scoffed jokingly and rolled her eyes. "And how does that mean i'll fit in?"

"What? You're saying you don't like diamonds and dresses?"

"Oh, i do, there's no doubt about it. But Boston..hm, not sure it's fancy enough, i'd much prefer New York." She grinned.

He laughed at her and removed his arm as they got to the Shelby house. "Right, before i go, can i ask you a question, Til?"

"Yeah, go on."

"Why do you work in a betting shop if you can't even count?"

"Harry," she groaned, turning away to open the door. "That's not my fault, you know that."

"Should've went to school, Matilda." He shouted as he began walking backward toward the Garrison.

She shook her head and walked into the shop. "Matilda," Arthur grunted as he passed her. "Hello, Arthur, how're you?"

"I'm good, yeah, good. What about you? Ready to write numbers on a chalk board?"

"Of course," she smiled, hanging up her coat and walking over to where John stood, holding the large book.

"Ey, Tilly, come look at this weeks profit," he called out, waving her over.

She walked up the few steps and peered over his shoulder. "Oh wow, is that all from the races?" She asked.

He hummed in response, turning and handing her a piece of chalk.

"Right, i'll read out what you need to write, yeah?" He said, placing the book on the desk beside him and crossing his arms.

Matilda nodded and held her hand up to the chalk board, messily writing the numbers that he read out.

John was one of the only
people who didn't taunt her about her lack of skill around numbers. Something she always appreciated, considering someone always took the piss out of her.

During the war, the school that most the children went to closed for a while which meant both her and Finn
were out of education. Well, so
was Ada but she was old enough to teach herself the things
that were necessary. But once the school opened up again, it was very rare that she and Finn would attend the school, despite Polly's efforts. As a result of this, they both lacked things.

Finn lacked the ability to read and write. Matilda lacked the ability to calculate and understand the whole concept of numbers.

John sighed, trying not to get frustrated as she muddled up numbers. "John i'm sorry but I get my 3 and 8 mixed up, they just look so similar," she said, getting angry with herself.

He gently took the chalk from her hand and corrected the small mistake.

"We have all day, don't stress." John said, looking back at the book.

Finn sat in the chair outside Arthur's office, watching as Matilda helped John work. He watched as her face would change as she wrote the numbers, trying to concentrate, squinting as she wrote them.

"Stop staring at her, looks like you're tryna fuck her with ya eyes." Arthur mumbled to his youngest brother who looked down, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

"Don't be embarrassed, Finn boy, just don't let her catch you." He patted Finn's shoulder, leaving to go into the office.

"Right..no, Tilly, stop." John urged as Tilly stepped back in frustration as she once again wrote something wrong. "I give up, i can't do it John."

"No, Tilly what the fuck are you doing?" He sighed as she walked down the steps after shoving the chalk into his hands.

She ignored him, taking a deep breath and closing the green doors that separated the house from the shop.

"Numbers make her overwhelmed, especially when she can't concentrate." Finn told his older brother, pushing his chair under the table. "It's not her fault," he added.

"Yeah..yeah i know it's not her fault." He agreed, taking a cigarette and lighting it. "How'd you know that anyway?"

"John, i've been her friend ever since we were kids, it's an easy thing to spot." Finn said as if it were obvious.

John nodded and turned back to the book, writing something down.

Finn was always the one who noticed the little things about her. How
she prefers to walk on the inside of the path, beside the houses. How she likes writing in pencil instead of pen.
He'd notice how she took pride in how she looked, especially with her hair, how she'd prefer to walk away from a situation and suffer in silence, how you could only see her teeth slightly when she laughed.

And of course he never knew all this in a creepy stalker obsession way. He knew it because he'd spent so many years with her growing up.
Knowing them things not only made certain things easier for him, but it made him feel like less of an outcast. For example, the fact that for years, both of them got very
little attention from the people around them. The fact that Matilda wasn't the brightest tool in the shed, made him feel less stupid. Not that he thought she was stupid, it just made him feel less..different?

"You okay?" Finn asked quietly as he leaned against the wall of the kitchen. "Yeah, just can't focus today," she told him, pouring a cup of tea.

"Something on your mind?" He asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Matilda contemplated telling Finn about the ribbon but she felt silly. For all she knew it could've been his mothers. Although she'd never seen the woman wear ribbons in her hair.

It was only a matter of time
before he noticed she was wearing a red ribbon anyway. Everybody knew she hated red.

"Why the fuck do you have a red..what's it called..i don't know but that red thing that's in your hair?" He squinted, confused.

Bingo.

She bit her lip, turning to him. "It's called a ribbon, Finn. And.." she began, taking a seat. "I found it on Billy's floor."

"So it's yours is it? Thought you hated that colour?"

"No, Finn, it's not mine. And yes, i do hate red."

Finn was really confused. "So if it's not yours, why is it in your hair?"

She smiled slightly at his confusion. "Because, Billy noticed me staring at something so I pretended it was mine to see if he'd say something..but he didn't even blink an eye. He didn't even ask when i'd start liking red. Which is ridiculous because id never like that fucking colour, never." She ranted.

He frowned, listening. "Do you know who's it is?"

She shook her head. "But it's definitely not mine, that's for sure."

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