The escape into the outside world beyond the Tawdry proved helpful, and certainly, the cold night air helped chased away the stuffy nose, and the flush on her cheeks were cooled. With his hand in hers, they walked without direction. While she had wanted to apologize again for her rude actions, Shay began to explain himself abruptly. She listened on in silence, considering each word he uttered as the truth. It made perfect sense, his reasoning behind his emotions. The very act of casting him out of her home, was just like Sam had said. She rejected him, just like he had dealt with all his life, even his sister. Part of her felt guilt that she had acted irrationally, like a complete idiot.

What garnered an intrigued expression from her was the revelation of his emotions towards the von Goethe’s as he moved in front of her, preventing her from taking another step. She gazed up intently at his blue eyes, as if hearing him truly for the first time. When he finished speaking, reached up and grasped his chin, just like Sam had done just an hour earlier.

“Shay…” she began, her eyes searching his, as if she would find the answer there, to which she did. She released his chin, and instead, slipped her arms around him, holding fast to him in a tight embrace. He was taller than her, so her head came to rest on the breast of his coat. “I’m sorry too. I’ve never known a pain like yours, one where everyone hates you just because of where you’re born, where no matter what you do, it’s never good enough. I’m sorry that I never thought to ask you how you felt on this job, or even stopped once to think of you. I’m sorry that I can be a little hasty and reckless in my words. But I can promise you one thing… I will love you no matter what, because I love you for who you are, not what you are.” She lifted her head up to gaze at him, a look empathy in her eyes as a tender smile made the corners of her mouth raise.

And then… she kissed him. Timidly at first, for she didn’t know if he would reject her sudden expression of love, for there was a small twinge of fear that still lurked inside.

Whether it was his own will subsiding and putting his trust in Vera's hands or if he was tired of the hardships of the past several days, Shay did not resist or ponder Vera grasping him by the chin, he accepted that what he might here might now be what he wanted or needed. He just wanted Vera to understand, the consequences be damned.

As she spoke, his heart melted, and a part of him was surprised when she took him into her arms, bridging the chasm that had grown between them. He found himself returning the gesture, taking in her now familiar scent and the contours of her back, a solid presence that he'd grown to need. Her words flowed out, emotional and pain intertwined, and the acknowledgement of what he had endured cemented something crucial; she understood. It was never his place to ask people carry his burdens or be dragged into a lifetime of troubles, but here Vera was, willing to try.

I will love you no matter what, because I love you for who you are, not what you are.

And in a single utterance, the only thing Shay ever wanted to hear in his entire life came to pass. Vera leaned up to kiss him, a ginger, affectionate gesture that was tinged with hesitation, as if she were afraid of what would follow. Shay reached up, cupping Vera's cool weather-kissed cheek in a gloved hand bringing himself close to her to fully embrace her gesture. Time seemed to stop for a moment, and like the first time they had kissed, Shay could not imagine spending his life with anyone else. Here they stood in the gentle London snow, flawed and troubled in their own ways, but in each other found a refuge. It was something that transcended words, and for the first time that day, a genuine smile crossed his lips, softening his features. His eyes sparkled in the streetlight, welling up with suppressed emotions that thawed like the winter's ice in spring. "I love you, Vera Addley. I should have stood by you when you needed me most, I shut you out when you tried to reach out. It's a shame I won't live down, but I swear to you, by God's name, I will never leave you again. Now and forever, I'm yours, if you'll have me."

So, Shay confessed his feelings to her, and her heart filled with joy. It felt good to be forgiven, and to be loved all at once. She shook her head at his words, and while she wanted to apologize further on the subject of her habits, she held back, and could only smile as Shay carried on speaking. “Yes. Yes!” Vera responded, giving him an enthusiastic squeeze. Every fibre in her body felt giddy, she wanted to laugh, to sing and dance. “You couldn’t have made me anymore happier, than I am right now Shay Alden.” She sang, were she a bird she would have taken flight.

With a gust of wind, she shivered at the chill in the air, there she tugged on Shay’s hand. “Come on, let’s go back inside. It’s awfully cold outside. I don’t know what you have in mind for tonight, but I’d like to go home this evening and unwind. Perhaps we can make a date for tomorrow evening, and see each other then?” She suggested, a twinkle gleamed in her eye at the idea of having reconciled their relationship. “Of course, you’re more than welcome to come home with me tonight.” Vera offered. With his hand in hers, they made their way back to the steps of the Tawdry.

As just like that, the tension evaporated, and the beaming beautiful face that had come to mean everything to Shay radiated before him. The higher pitch in Vera's voice, the excitement, it all served to remind him of what he had and couldn't afford to lose. He went with her as she tugged as his hand and he certainly didn't disagree with the need to get out of the cold; even he didn't feel comfortable out in the cold for too long. The memory of being shot and bleeding out in the snow was still too fresh, and his shoulder ached as if on cue.

"As much as I'd love to spend the night with you again, I think it would be best if we got some rest for tomorrow." Shay replied mischievously with a coy smile, gently squeezing Vera's hand as they strolled back down the block to the Tawdy. "A big day tomorrow, and all that. Tomorrow night, after the job's behind us, sounds lovely. I still owe you a dinner without getting shot."

The two headed back into the pub and mingled with the others for a bit, the guys who only now figured out the relationship grilling Shay with questions, and the ladies fawning over Vera excitedly. It was beginning to feel like a family, and Shay was glad that despite everything, everyone seemed supportive of the two of the, and Sam's approval in particular was what cemented it all. Taking Shay off to the side with an arm over his shoulders, Sam said, "I couldn't ask for a better man to look after my sister. I'd hoped you two would have figured out you were good for each other when I assigned you two together." he smiled warmly, prodding a finger into Shay's chest. "The two of you needed someone good in your lives, you deserve it."

After another hour or two of drinks and chatting with their fellow Roughers, Shay and Vera parted ways with a public kiss and while Emory offered to drive Vera home, Shay decided to walk and enjoy the brisk air on the way back to his flat to collect his thoughts and reflect on the day. The streets seemed particularly vibrant that night, the people out and about seemed happy and cordial, and for the first time in a long while, Shay was beginning to feel comfortable in the city he'd learned to call home.

It didn't take him long to return to the flat, a roughly half hour walk away, and he climbed up the stairs and to his door. Kicking his shoes off and tossing his coat on a simple rack, Shay wasted no time in finding his way to the couch, where he decided to sit back and close his eyes for a moment, as he still had prep for the day to come that needed to be attended to. The thought barely left his mind as he drifted off, head hanging down and a smile on his face.

A Creature of the Night
February 2nd - 213 Rowanoak Lane 8:30pm

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“Is there anything else you need for the evening, Miss V?” The sound of Emory Lindsey’s voice rolled out of the Peugeot, and lingered in the cold night air. She turned back to the car once more, for once considering his offer, but could think of nothing immediate.

“No, Em. I’ll be alright tonight. If you’ll be so kind, have someone over to pick me up in the morning when they’re ready for the meeting.” She added, pulling her wool coat tighter around her shoulders. The wind had picked up considerably now, and the frigid gusts bit with tenacity turning her cheeks a brilliant crimson. With a tip of his hat, Emory shifted the car into gear, and pulled away from the snow-covered sidewalk. She watched the smoke from the exhaust mingling into the drifting snowfall. With a cautious glance, ever watchful of the Adders since the attack on Shay. No one else was outside, not in weather like this. The amount of snow London received in the past two weeks had created snow drifts averaging two feet in depth. Turning on her heel, she made her way inside the apartment flat. Someone would swing by the complex later on in the evening and act as her watch guard for the rest of the night before leaving in the morning.

Apartment #538

Vera slipped off her heels, and stood without abandon in the doorway of her flat, gazing around. With the door locked securely behind her, she felt safe knowing that someone would be watching the place still. Keeping that in mind, she followed the hallway to her bedroom, tugging off the peach tea dress, she cast it aside in the hallway, not having a care in the world. When she came to stand before the nightstand by her bed, a pang of guilt made her hesitate. The last time she did this...it hadn’t ended so well. Then again, she hadn’t touched the pipe for nearly a week when Sam and her had it out in the kitchen just days ago. Sinking down onto the thin mattress, she opened the drawer, as if compelled to just see the pipe and accouterments with her own eyes.

For how long she remained seated on the edge of her mattress like that, she couldn’t say, but finally as if entranced, she finally reached for the pipe, drew out the pellets of opium, and began to arrange the associated items with care. Reclining back, she lit the lamp, and with the brass tongs, she carefully placed a pellet into the bowl piece, waiting for the lamp to grow hot. A familiar orange cloak descended around her as her eyes focused in on the dancing light. Then, she lifted the long stem of her pipe, and held the bowl over the lamp, letting the heat vaporize the pellet. To her, the opium helped ease her nerves, chased away the demons of the yesteryears and lulled her into a daze, a brilliant fog that she never wanted to lift. Part of her wished she could feed her desire for days on end, never rising from the bed, never leaving the flat, just a never ending circle of smoke, a continuous dream of melancholy.
The thick smoke hit the back of her throat, to which she let it sink down in her esophagus for a few moments before expelling it through her nose. As expected, that first hit calmed her agitated nerves, and soothed her into a sense of serenity. She continued, one puff after another until her eyes lid felt weighted. A heavy hand reached to turn the lamp down, and she placed the pipe on the tray alongside the tongs and lamp. Recoiling onto her back, she managed to gaze up at the ceiling, her thoughts turning to Shay. The features of his face came easily to her mind, most importantly the haunting look of his piercing blue eyes. The way he smiled, the sound of his voice, how he held her in his gaze caused her body to flush at the thoughts of picturing him like so. Even now, her eyes drooping with exhaustion, she thought she could smell the scent of his aftershave and cologne. Her thoughts trailed off to the night they spent lovemaking, and she could recall the distinctive feel of his warm body akin to hers.

‘What would he think of me now?’ Vera thought, her mind wandering in and out of consciousness. ‘Would he let me continue on this way? Let me keep my pipe…? If only he were here with me now.’ She thought no more as she drifted off into sleep.

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February 3rd 8:45am - Apartment #538

BANG. BANG. BANG!

Her eyes snapped open at the sudden disturbance from her sleep. Kicking off the blankets, she scrambled out of bed, hastily throwing on the dress she wore yesterday, she made for the door. “Who is it?” She called, her voice catching in her throat, thick with sleep.

“It’s Silas, Miss Vera.” The voice matched the street rat that belonged to none other than Silas Lowell himself. She paused momentarily at the doorway before lifting the latch. Forcing a smile as she pulled back the door, she found herself staring back at the young fellow, a heavy smell of cologne radiated towards her.

“Good morning, Silas. Come in, have a seat if you please.” She stepped back to let him in, the smell of cologne mingled with a wiff of cigarette smoke. “Forgive me, I’ll just be a moment.” Vera replied, excusing herself from his company. While he waited patiently by making himself comfortable, Vera busied herself by fixing her curls, washing her face in the sink and all other common rituals that a woman performs. When she finished, she slipped into a black tweed skirt, and a white button-down blouse, her hair secured under the cloche she sported.

Emerging from the washroom, she found Silas gazing out one of the floor to ceiling french windows. Finally, it seemed that the snowstorm that had lasted for what felt like two weeks, had cleared, and now a brilliant swath of blue sky greeted them both. At the sound of her heels clicking against the floor, he turned to face her. “Are you ready to leave, Miss Vera?” He inquired, removing his cap and wringing it in his hands.

“Aye. I’ve everything I need, after you.” She said with a pleasant smile.

9:30am - The Tawdry Countess

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While the sky remained clear, an evident chill still clung to the air. She was thankful that she had chosen to sport her wool coat again, unlike Silas who had opted for a lighter jacket. Clearing the entrance into the Tawdry, Vera found Frankie behind the bar already, polishing the tumblers and wine glasses used last night. She recalled fondly how Eris and Elouise crowded around her yesterevening at the sight of Shay and her reconciling. It was no news to them now, that they were an item. Even Sam seemed relatively pleased at them making amends.

Seated around the bar were Samuel and Emory. They turned in their seats at the sound of the door opening, to which her brother offered her a welcomingly smile. “Good morning, V. You look rested, I trust you slept well?”

“Yes…” [i] ‘With the help of the pipe, but sleep nonetheless.’ Is what she wanted to say, but went with, “I did. Thank you for asking.”

“You’d best head into the office, Grant and the others are waiting for you.” Sam gestured with a wave of his hand.

“And Shay?” Vera asked hopefully.

“Aye, he’s in there too.”

With a brisk walk, she made it to the office door, and gave a quick rapt. Therein she received a sharp “Come in!”, to which she opened the door to see Grant sitting behind the desk where he was just yesterday. To her left, on the leather sofa, sat Shay, and to her right, in a matching lounge chair, sat Clint. “Good morning Vera.” Grant began, “Please, have a seat. There is much to discuss.” With limited options, perhaps on purpose, she chose the only available seat next to Shay, and offered him a rather excited smile, she had missed him the night before. As she turned her head to face Grant, her hand snuck out and gave Shay’s knee an affectionate squeeze.

“Have you eaten anything for breakfast?” Grant continued, but Vera shook her head no. “Clint, will you tell Frankie to bring in that batch of scones that Mrs. Foster dropped by this morning? Any coffee or tea?” He inquired, turning back to her.

“Ah… tea, please and thank you.”

“Cream and sugar?”

“Yes please.”

“Cream and sugar too, Clint.” Thereon, Clint excused himself from the room to fetch what his brother asked of him, leaving Grant alone with Vera and Shay.

“Now then, Shay. Did you finish that map of the premises as I asked?” Grant said, interlocking his fingers together in a steeple.

The morning after...

Shay awoke on the couch to a now unfamiliar sensation of the sun beaming across his face, the bright morning light piercing the English sky most expectantly. For the first time in quite a while, the sun baked the London streets, and Shay took it as a promising omen, both for his reconciliation with Vera and for the job they'd be doing today. There were still misgivings about the whole assignment, but it wasn't as if he had not done worse in his days working for the gang. Deciding he had time for a bath, Shay stripped out of the clothing he still had clung to his body from the night prior, not caring how crumpled it was as it landed on the couch and began to run the water as he prepared himself a quick breakfast of rye bread with dried ham slices and a glass of water. Not bothering to sit as he ate his meal, Shay finished doodling the details of the map he'd been working on of the von Goethe residence.

Half an hour later, being fed and bathed, Shay trimmed his beard and greased back his hair, deciding he needed to look presentable like usual, albeit with a very special reason to keep on top of it. Having Vera in his life certainly gave him an incentive to look his best, because he wanted to show her he gave enough of a damn about showing he was putting in an effort for her, both in matters of the heart and physically. They both had flaws they had to overcome, and at the very least, looking like they were trying inside and out counted. Satisfied, albeit with a few less hairs that got yanked with his comb, Shay wet a cloth with some cologne and patted around his neck, wrist, and armpits. Good to go.

Finally, donning his thick black peacoat and cap, along with his army-issued boots and adjusting his shoulder-holster for his Webley under his coat, Shay locked up and headed out to meet up with his people at the Tawdry Countess.

After walking the few short blocks, Shay entered the Countess shortly after 0900 to an endearingly warm reception. Sam offered him a raised hand in greeting, and Grant was at the bar, filling a small bowl with cocktail olives, a favorite of his. He looked up when he saw the Irishman and waved him along. "Just the lad I was looking for. Come on Shay, big day ahead of us. Are you well rested?"

"Yes sir, first good night in a while." Shay responded, following him into the office and taking an offered seat. He found himself sinking into the soft leather as he leaned back into it.

Grant smiled, popping an olive into his mouth. "The way you've been carrying on with Miss Addley, I can imagine. The boys aren't giving you a rough go of it?"

"Quite the contrary, they've been exceedingly enthusiastic about the idea. Truth be told, I was a bit worried about how Sam would take it, Miss Vera being his sister and all that, but he seems to be our biggest endorsement." Shay admitted with the slightest hint of a smile. Grant nodded his head in quick succession.

"I think for Sam, he's just happy Vera's found somebody he knows and trusts to be a good man, and you are Shay. Ever since you came to us, you've been a great asset to the family and I think I speak for everyone when I say we were quite worried about the night you took the bullet. How is the shoulder, by the way?" Grant asked, sitting down himself but looking intently at Shay, who rubbed his shoulder where he took the shot.

"Surprisingly, it doesn't hurt that badly anymore. A bit of an ache, but nothing sharp. Shouldn't affect my aim at all." Shay said, plucking a smoke from his coat pocket. Grant slid over a lighter as he fished for his own cigarette. The two lit up in silence before Grant spoke up again.

"With luck, you won't need to use that particular talent for quite a while."

Shay inhaled a deep drag and flicked the ashes into a tray, all the while looking Grant in the eye. "You find a job that involves putting a 215-grain round in that bastard Donald Hayes' heart, let me know. I'm itching for a chance to even the score and make the bastard pay for putting Vera into harm's way like that." he said darkly, recalling the night in the rain he had last shot his rifle on the job to protect Vera from the Adders, and the night a the Tuscany where he had taken the shot.

A voice came from behind, "Been looking into some payback against the Adders for that bit of bad business, you can rest easy."

Clint walked into the office, wiping his hands off on a towel before taking a half-seat on the desk. He wore a vest over a button-up shirt and some grey dress pants and immaculately shined boots. He was meeting with someone of high standing, Shay decided. "They've been bold lately, more than usual. Between trying to murder Vera in the street and then brazenly attacking you both in public like that, we're not going to let that stand. They're fucking around in our turf, excuse my language, so it's time we dab in theirs. But first, the job at hand."

As if on cue, Vera stepped into the office along with the others and took a seat. Her smile was radiant and immediately lifted Shay's spirits, and he welcomed her sitting next to him. It was liberating to not have to hide their affections from the others; he felt accepted, at peace. No one made to ruin that for either of them. He placed a hand atop of Vera's on his knee before replying to the question.

From his pocket, Shay produced the carefully folded map he worked on, and laid it out across the desk for everyone to see. "Of course. Here it is, to the best of my recollection. Vera, please feel free to point out any discrepancies from what you recall, but this is about as accurate as I can recall. Hard to forget where things are in that place.... it was a bit, what's the word? Ostentatious."

Shay went over everywhere Vera and himself had been inside of the mansion, where personnel were located, entrances and security fixtures, artifacts worth noting, and of course, the painting. All in all, Shay took roughly five minutes to go over it, with Vera interjecting intermittently to go over what she had observed, and soon the room went into details over the operation.

Finally, Grant looked at both Shay and Vera. "Think you can pull this off?"

Shay dragged on his smoke one more time before extinguishing it in the tray. "Won't take twenty minutes."

“There is one more thing that I wish to touch on. We know well, where everything is, the layout of the manor, the potential presence of the staff, and the location of the painting. My question is… when are we going, who is going with us, and what do we do if we encounter someone on the inside?” Vera asked, lifting the cup of tea to her lips, and drank it slow so as not to slurp it or spill a drop. When she set it down on the saucer, she reached for a second scone. She hadn’t the time that morning to eat breakfast, so her appetite was particularly ravenous.
Nodding in response to her question, Grant switched his position from hands-steepled to a relaxed, ankle over the knee pose. “Based on the information you both have presented me… I believe that on the 5th will be the best time. This will ensure that the Von Goethe’s are truly out of town on vacation. I’ll contact one of the boys down on the docks, and borrow one of their trunks for the evening. I’ll give you the Lindsey brother’s. One will act as your driver, and one will be your eyes on the property. A lookout if you will. Vera, for you, as you’re a woman, I’d recommend that you’d go in a disguise. I’m certain if you ask Sam, he’ll lend you some pants and an overcoat. Make sure the colors are dark. On the matter of encountering someone inside the house, we’d prefer that you’d not be seen at all. However, in the event that there is someone you run into, do not kill them. If you must, incapacitate them, knock them out if you have to. But no blood, do you hear me both?”

“Yessir.” She said through a mouthful of scone.
“Good. Now then, there is one more matter. Vera. Now, according to Sam, and the reason why we put you on this job in the first place, is that he tells us you can pick any lock.”
“Mmhmm.” Her head bobbed up and down in agreement.
“Perfect. Now, I’ll put you in touch with Matthew, he’s got a supply of lockpicks. In two days time, I want you both back down here at 8:30pm sharp. It’s a three hour drive out there as you both know, and I want it to be dark enough for no one to see you. Shay, you said the property has a lengthy drive before you reach the manor. I’ll let the boys know to turn their lights off, when you acquire the painting, they’ll be waiting at an established destination, most likely half a mile down the road from the gatehouse. Any other questions?”

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Once outside the office, Vera turned to Shay, a playful smile on her lips as she inched closer to him. “So… do you have any plans for today?” She asked, slipping her hand into his. She hadn’t noticed the extra care he had taken into oiling his hair, but she had certainly smelled the scent of his cologne. Therein, she led him to the counter where Sam and the brothers sat, just where they had been when she had first walked through the door that morning.

“ ‘Morning,” Sam said to Vera, now that she wasn’t in a rush to the meeting.
“Good morning Sam. Hey Frankie, can I get a soda water, and a cranberry tonic?” She asked, leaning over the counter at him.
“Certainly.” He returned, setting down the glass he was polishing and set about filling two glasses.
“Any plans for you two?” Sam asked, nodding at Shay and his sister, to which Vera shook her head.

The meeting concluded, and it seemed like the wheels were set into motion for the 5th. Everyone had their role to play, and Shay was relieved that no one would be forced to kill the innocent help at the von Goethe mansion. He wasn't thrilled about the job for the reasons he had spoken of to Vera, but he would do it. It was his job, and he figured it was better that than toiling away in a factory where he was liable to lose a limb to some unforgiving machinery. Vera and him stepped outside the office, Vera slipping her fingers between his. He smiled back. "Well, I do owe you a proper dinner... without the rude interruptions. Would you like to try skating? I hear the local rink has been cleared off, and we have some coin to buy some skates." Shay replied, genuinely curious about her thoughts.

Before Vera had a chance to reply, Sam exited the officed, asking if the two of them had plans. Vera shook her head in a negative fashion, and Shay replied, "Were just working on that, actually. It would be nice to have a night where things aren't busy with work or dangerous... be nice to sit down for a meal without running into the bloody Adders."

"Well, I won't keep you from that." Sam said with a smile, clapping Shay on the shoulder. "Say, mind if I borrow my sister for a tick? I just need to run something by her, family business and that." he asked.

Shay nodded. "Certainly, Sam. I'll be here, keeping Frankie company. Speaking of which, mind fixing me up a rye?" he asked the bartender.

He took a seat as Vera and Sam walked over to a quiet corner of the Countess while Frankie poured him a glass. "Bit early for this, don't you think?"

"It's 5PM somewhere in the world," Shay replied with an unapologetic grin.

"You seem pretty chipper today. A good woman will do that for you. Actually, come to think of it, I'd rarely seen you this expressive." Frankie observed, leaning back against the counter, looking to the younger Irishman.

"Yeah, I guess things just started to work out." He said with a smile, taking a long sip. "I think we needed each other."

Shortly after, Vera returned to the counter, prompting Shay to turn and face her. "Everything alright, Vera? I hope this isn't about doctor maddam gypsy charging medical fees." he said half jokingly.

“Ah… yes. I’ll explain on the way. Now then, I believe I heard you mention something about ice skating?” A mischievous gleam and matching grin overcame her as she slipped in close to Shay. “It’s been years since I went. So let me warn you beforehand, I’m not the best skater, but I do find it fun.”

Once inside the Peugeot, Vera turned to Shay, and gave a frustrated sigh. “Shay… do you remember the day Sam and I fought? The same day where Ingrid, the gypsy woman, came to patch you up? Did… did she say anything to you? Anything strange? Or Silas for that matter?” There was more to what she was saying, but waited to see if he had anything to say on the subject. The controversial news that her brother revealed to her moments ago, left her in a confused state. She had so many questions, but where to start proved unfathomable. In fact, if what Sam had told her was true, how would Shay view her now?

"Oh, you need not worry about being outclassed, Vera. I've not stepped foot on the ice since I was a boy." Shay replied with a smile, grabbing the door for Vera and helping her with an outstretched hand into the Peugeot. Once he closed the door behind her, he made his way around to the driver's seat and like an old glove, he slipped into the now familiar cab in a smooth and practiced motion.

What Shay wasn't expecting was the sudden serious turn of conversation. Shay blinked slowly, trying to recall what was said to him. Normally it would have come readily, as strange situations such as being mended in a living room by a strange old Gypsy woman was a fairly remarkable event in anyone's day, but it was also the day Vera and himself made love and the explosive argument between her and Sam that threatened to tear their relationship apart. The entire day was just an emotional vortex that threatened to suck the air out of one's lungs if they stayed too long.

"Forgive me if my memory is foggy, but Silas was able to translate what she was saying to me, didn't speak a damn word of English, through him she said she could smell our, ah, lovemaking..." Shay trailed off, a bashful expression and a red hue forming across his face. "Other than that, no, I can't recall anything in particular. To be honest, I try not to remember that night much." Shay concluded, running a hand across his face and through the stubble that dominated his face.

Her face colored brilliantly at the words of Ingrid being able to smell their lovemaking. The fact that Shay didn’t recall what had been said, or at least, supposedly said, brought around some relief. She wouldn’t say a word, not until Sam and her went to discover the situation. For the rest of the car ride over to Bingley Park, a park used often during the winter as the pond was shallow, and froze easily when the temperature dropped; Vera made small talk with Shay, her mind occupied elsewhere. It wasn’t until they stood in line with other patrons waiting to purchase a pair of skates for the evening that she slid closer to Shay, finally drawing her thoughts to the present.

It was here that she wished she had opted for a pair of woolen tights instead of her nylon stockings. Regardless, her cloche, scarf and gloves kept away the chill, along with the help of her pea coat. As the line moved forward, Vera slipped an arm around Shay’s elbow, clinging to him to share in his warmth. She glanced up at him, and smiled with warmth. Simply being in his company enraptured her. Her thoughts drifted back to when Tommy had called her into his office, the day she was released from Holloway, and informed her that she would be working with Shay on this mission. She thought of how they had faked, with a degree of ease, their relationship in Hobbs & Pollard, and even in Lady Evelyn’s Stitchery, not to mention their fantastic team work at The White Star. When the clerk behind the booth motioned for them, they stepped forward in unison, “Skates for two, please.” She chirped.

“What size are your shoes, miss? And for you sir?”

“A size 6 for me, if you have them.” She replied, watching as the clerk turned his back to them to retrieve her shoes. He placed them on the counter, and waited for Shay to answer. When he had, he fetched his own skates.

“That’ll be two shillings.” He prompted. With that, Vera grinned wolfishly at Shay as she slid a florin to the clerk. She had to return the favor, or so she felt, for whatever reason, to make up for her bad behaviour from the days prior.

With skates in hand, Shay and Vera made their way to a bench, where they sat down beside one another to lace up their skates. She pulled off her heels, and slid into the skates. When she finished lacing them up, she looked to Shay, where a ghost of a smile touched her lips. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“I wear size 11.” Shay told the clerk, squeezing Vera’s arm that was interlocked with his own as he waited for the well-worn skates to be pulled off of a shelf. After the pair were brought their skates and Vera exchanged coin with the clerk, both removed their footwear, a chilly sensation given the cold, and slipped into the extremely well-worn skates. Shay stood after lacing his up and found his balance to be quite wobbly, it was a sensation he hadn’t felt in some time. It felt like walking in stilts that were a centimeter wide.

“I apologize for what you’re about to witness; I know it must put a dagger through your heart to see I’m less than perfect.” Shay said to Vera with a mischievous smile. He offered a hand to help her off the bench and the pair headed to the gate that led to the open ice hand in hand, both out of affection, and to support one another from falling over.

At the gate, Shay gripped the fence carefully as he stepped onto the ice, hoping the skate wouldn’t go out from under him. Taking it slowly, he managed to get both skates down and although wobbly and about as slow as a tortoise taking a leisurely stroll tested his stride, sliding one foot in front of the other a few inches at a time, not unlike most first time skaters. “So far so good,” Shay called out to Vera, grinning nervously as he tried to turn to face her. One of his skates hit a slick patch and shot out forward, dropping the man to his rump on the ice with a crash, prompting a few good-natured laughs from other skaters who very likely understood exactly the feeling, or kids finding vulnerable adults a rare and hilarious experience. He didn’t mind; the smile never left his face as he carefully found his footing again.

“Come on out, Vera; the ice is softer than it looks!” He teased, extending a hand for her to take as he tried to brace his feet to prevent a similar spill.