Merry Christmas and Happy new year to all my lovely readers! Thank you very much for all the favourites/follows that you are giving this story! It means so much - S

Irene's sky blue eyes fall to the floor, keeping her head down she makes her way down the dirty, cobbled street. The butcher's door is wide open, and she gags as the smell of rotten chicken wafts to her nostrils. "Oh, God!" Irene gasps as she feels the vomit swill in her stomach. Her little red shoes can't carry her fast enough as she rushes down the pavement. Irene holds her breath as she darts into the nearest alleyway. As soon as she is truly alone she bends over, holding her mahogany locks behind her hair, Irene releases her stomach onto the dirt.

She wipes away the saliva from around her mouth and stands up, stretching her back as she rubs her stomach. Irene knew she was pregnant from the moment the thought popped into her small head. Visiting Mrs Edmundson was only a formality at this point, but it had to be done. As the old woman leads her up the dam dark staircase, Irene shivers. She had heard stories of women being tested, and their babies would die from the pulling and the tugging. Mrs Edmundson orders her to lie back on the bed and to lift up her skirt, spread her legs. Irene does as she is told, part of her wants to watch what the old hag is doing, but as soon as the cold metal touches her, she clamps her eyes shut.

Irene wishes she could be in a normal doctors office, but she needed privacy, and Thomas Shelby had access to everybody's medical records. Irene had come to Mrs Edmundson on the very edge of small heath and had given a false name. Suddenly the pressure has stopped, and she is being told to get dressed. Irene swings her legs over the bed and fixes her skirt. Mrs Edmundson picks up her metal tray and trots across the room. "Well am I?" Irene demands, her voice doesn't sound like her own.

"I'm afraid so, Miss Beck." The old lady nods and Irene immediately wants to punch her wrinkled face. Instead, she nods and makes her way out of the house, as quickly as she can. As soon as the cold morning air hits her pale skin, she gasps, her breath catches in her throat, and the sobs crash through her body.

As the hot water calms the knots in her muscles, Irene is sure she must have looked crazy to anyone who had walked past her this morning. Irene smiles, she runs her fingers over her flat stomach, she couldn't quite believe that there really is a baby in there. "Hello," she whispers. Irene had kept her head down as she rushed through Small Heathe, hiding her tears from passers-by.

As Irene steps out of the water, a chill washes over her pale skin. Irene shivers and quickly reaches for her brown towel. It was only 5 O'Clock in the evening, and she wasn't sure if he would be home yet, but she had to see him, tell him about the baby, their baby. Anxiety makes her chest tighten as she pins up her hair but shakes it off. If there was one thing that Irene Thorne was not, it's was a coward. "Then why are you shaking." Irene scoffs, frowning at her reflection.

Before she has time to second-guess herself, she grabs her navy and cream coat and marches for the door. Her heart pounds in her chest and her ruby red shoes are hard against the dirt as she forces her feet to move forward, one foot in front of the other. Irene is sure that someone else is controlling her body as she knocks on the Shelby family's front door. She doesn't look from left to right as she stands, waiting for the door to open. Just two weeks ago she wouldn't have been seen dead standing on this doorstep, and now she couldn't care less.

At the door stands a gaunt woman with curly brown hair that is pinned atop her wrinkled face. The woman looks her up and down and flicks her cigarette. "He ain't here." Polly takes a drag of her cigarette as she eyeballs her. Irene stands tall, not letting her gaze effect her.

"When will he be-"

"Dunno," Polly cuts her off but doesn't offer her any further information. Irene nods, trying not to let the disappointment show on her delicate features. Irene turns on her heels and begins to move away, slowly. Polly watches her as she moves, taking another drag of her cigarette as a lump forms in her throat. "He'll be back in a few hours," Polly calls after her, Irene turns her head, hope restored in her blue eyes. "He's gone to the races he with-" Polly pauses as she purses her lips. "He's gone with Grace." Irene frowns, who the fuck was Grace when she was at home?

Irene isn't sure when she made the decision to go to the pub, but she knows its a bad idea. She knows she should only be drinking ale and she knows it's a bad Idea to drink whiskey, but she does it anyway. 'Put it on Tommy's tab' become her new favourite words to say this evening. The barman began to argue when she first said it, but Arthur had stepped in and nodded his head. Irene had said thank you to him and ordered around for the whole room.

"Do you want to dance?" Irene purs at the man beside her, as he takes her hand the room begins to spin, but it doesn't stop her from spinning circles around him. Irene isn't sure when the music began to play, but it doesn't help the mans rhythm, he has two left feet and she can feel the anger that is bubbling inside of her getting stronger every time he steps on her foot. "Just stand still!" Irene barks as she dances around him.

"Tommy," Arthur calls as soon as he sees his younger brother walk into the pub. Tommy smiles at him and releases Graces hand, the blonde frowns at the loss of contact but quickly places it back on her tight features. Arthur leans into his brother's ear and whispers; "Sort her our Tommy," He nods towards the other end of the bar and Tommy's ice blue eyes follow him. He groans as he sees Irene spinning around a mucky BSA worker who looks increasingly uncomfortable.

"Just one minute, Grace." Tommy nods his head at the slim blonde and leads his brother towards the dance floor. Grace frowns and immediately begins to follow the brothers. "Irene." Tommy holds his hand up to the band, telling them to stop the music. Irene frowns as she comes to an abrupt halt, wobbling in her flat red shoes as she does. Immediately Tommy reaches out to her to stop her from falling. Irene frowns as she looks down at his hand, it makes her feel like her whole body is on fire but that could just be the whiskey.

"Tommy." Irene smiles, leaning forward to give him a peck on the lips, the whiskey giving her too much courage.

"Tommy!" A soft Irish voice gasps from beside him, Irene shakes her head at the sound, she knows that sound. It's the sound of a girlfriend is what it is. Irene tries to focus her eyes on the Irish voice but she can't, she keeps moving.

"Stop moving!" Irene hisses.

"She isn't moving, Irene." Tommy sighs, mouthing an apology to Grace.

"Polly said you would be back soon, so I waited." Irene is sure she can feel the hiccups coming but she holds them back by holding her breath, as she counts down from thirty she realises it is no use, and the first of many burst out of her mouth. "We will talk when she has gone." Irene turns her nose up at the skinny blond and tries to move past Tommy, towards the bar.

"I think you have had enough," Tommy pulls her back from the bar, as she stumbles backwards she balances on a bar stool. The anger bubbling inside of her seems to come to a head as she hits the stool, Irene launches forward and slaps him across the face.

As soon as he hand touches his stubble she is being pulled away from him, Arthurs strong arms are around hers.

"Get off me!" Irene screeches but it's too late, Arthur is pushing her out of her bar. As she passes the blurry blonde she hears her soft Irish lul.

"She's psychotic!" Grace gasps, as soon as she hears Thomas agreeing with Grace, something inside of Irene snaps, mustering all of her strength she pushes away from Arthur and turns back to the rest of the bar.

"Yes, Grace!" Irene screams, bending over as she clutches her stomach to project her voice more. "I'm psychotic!" Irene believes that at this exact moment she must look it but she would class herself more hysterical than psychotic. "Psychotic and fucking pregnant!"