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Later she thought it must've been the cold that woke her. It was always cold these nights.
As she turned, the bed creaked beneath her, tearing her further away from the realm of her dreams.
With a sigh, she opened her eyes fully and stared at the darkened ceiling.
The bed was cold and empty, apart from her.
The light of the moon barely made it possible to read the arms on the bedside clock but it was enough for her to know that he couldn't have gotten up yet, which meant he had yet to come to bed.
A slight groan of discomfort escaped her lips as she sat up, her bare feet searching for her slippers beside her bed.
Then she reached for the scarf that hung over the back of the chair and wrapped it around her shoulders before leaving her bed for good.
The light in the kitchen was out but through the small gap between the green door and the floor, she could see the slightest glimmer in the darkness.
Tommy looked up as he heard her padded steps.
As she had expected, he was still at his desk, papers in front of him.
She offered him a smile and got the slightest in return.
"You should be sleeping.", He scolded her gently.
Instead of responding, she closed the distance between them. On instinct, he pushed his chair back to make room for her to slip in between it and the desk as she sat down on his lap, one arm finding the back of his neck.
"Please come to bed, Tom. It's so late it's almost early."
His hands found her waist as his thumbs began to rub her sides.
"There's still some work to do."
With a sigh she dropped her head in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of him. It was just as familiar to her as the smell of her mother. She could pick him out on that alone amongst thousands, on the calluses of his hands, the softness of hair there where he let it grow and on the shape of his lips.
On the way they pressed kisses to the side of her head.
"London has to be perfect.", He reminded her.
London. Always London.
"Isn't Birmingham enough?", She mumbled, letting her eyes flutter shut. "We will be alright just here."
"We will be more than alright by the time I'm done, love.", He assured her.
She sighed.
"And when will that be, Tom?"
"Soon."
Soon.
She felt that nervous flutter once more, like a little bird that had been trapped inside her chest ever since Tommy had gone to war, always afraid, never able to calm.
She had thought his return would put that flutter to rest, but it only continued. Because Tommy never took enough time to breathe, to let her breathe.
Instead it was a constant rush- first to get the betting licence, then taking over Billy Kimber's territory, only to secure that and now London.
Just when I thought it was over.
Every step of the way, she had always believed that they had done it now, that this nervous spell would break and he'd truly come back.
"Sometimes,", she whispered as she pulled herself back to look at his handsome and exhausted face.
"Sometimes I feel you are like a man possessed…almost like you're haunted?"
"Haunted?", He repeated not without a hint of amusement.
She nodded, but for her there was no cause for fun.
"Haunted by your dreams, Tom, and whenever you turn one into reality, it gets replaced by another and another."
More, always more.
More money, more tracks, more territory, more shops.
He hummed, as his lips curled into a smile.
But she only shook her head, cupping his face between her hands.
"It's not funny, Tom.", She insisted, dropping her gaze to his chest.
"Sometimes it feels like you're not here…like I'm stuck in the present while you're already halfway into the future."
And if you are in my future it would mean I am in your past.