𝐞𝐠𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 · 𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞

"Tom-"

Before Arthur could say his piece Tommy held up his hand to silence his older brother, his stare flitting over to where Evelyn had placed her palm on Alfie's lower hip – rubbing small circles to help keep him calm.

"I don't want to hear any complaints," he spoke before clenching his teeth; eyes never leaving his sister and Alfie. "You will all do your part and not complain."

Knowing there was no way that Tommy was going to change his mind that was made up and set in stone, everyone in the room sat in silence before Alfie decided to fill it. Turning so he could look at his girlfriend who was nervously bitting her nails; a habit that he had tried to make her stop.

Pulling her hand away from her mouth, Alfie looked down at her. "Right, well, while I'm in your fuckin' pigs-tai of a town, I would love a fuckin' drink, yeah?"

"Eve," Tommy spoke, a frustrated air floating around him. "Take Mr. Solomons to the Garrison. This is all happening after dark – don't be fucking late."

With a small 'okay,' Evelyn led Alfie back out of the house; her brothers all watching and waiting until they heard the front door slam shut.

"Fucking hell," Polly spat, flicking the end of her cigarette before pointing it at her nephew, Tommy lighting his own cig. "You were right, she is fucking Solomons."

~~~~~~~~

Relief flooded Alfie's veins as he entered the Garrison with Evelyn holding his hand. The pub was empty, but Evelyn made her way around the bar – her actions seeming natural as she pulled out a bottle of rum and two glasses; filling them before sliding one along the countertop to Alfie.

"I've got a bad feeling 'bout tonight, Eve," Alfie muttered, downing the drink. "Fuckin' with the Russians ain't going to end well."

Evelyn sighed. "Me too, but there's no way my brother is giving up now that he's this far along with the plan."

The pair sat in a comfortable silence, Evelyn pouring Alfie another drink while she took sips of her own. With a deep exhale, Alfie gestured with two fingers for Evelyn to come back around the counter; his hands instinctively finding their way to the dips of her hips.

"My mum, yeah, had to flee from persecution in Russia; they hunted her down with fuckin' dogs. My fuckin' father though, right, he was one of those people who was born bad, yeah. He was a fuckin' adulterer, had a whole lot of children and didn't stay to help raise them," Alfie told the girl who had began running a hand through his hair, his head resting against her chest.

"At least that is what I've been told, yeah, so I'm fuckin' told because all I ever saw of him was his fuckin' hat. My mother hung it on the wall above the sink where she washed people's laundry. A holy fuckin' relic."

Evelyn didn't know what to say, in the time she had taken to get to know Alfie he had only ever told her of his mother. The way he spoke of her made Evelyn believe the woman was an angel sent down to grace earth; but he had never spoken about his father – only telling her that he was a "fuckin' bastard." That was something she was awfully familiar with.

"It's the one I wear," Alfie added, gesturing to the hat that was on the counter next to them without raising his head. "It still smells of fuckin' Portugal water when I wear it. Can yer' believe that, right, my ma washed bedsheets and my father was a fuckin' hat."

Evelyn could relate to the resentment Alfie had towards his father; Arthur Shelby Sr. was a piece of shit who she could never forgive. Cupping Alfie's face in her palms, Evelyn gently lifted his head so she could look at his eyes; the pretty turquoise was clouded with tears that he forced himself not to shed.

"My father was a piece of shit too," Evelyn spoke, a heavy feeling creeping up on her. "He was a hustler. He stole, was involved with whores and abandoned all of his children while we were still young. I remember being so confused when he left for good, it was just after my mum died so I refused to believe my father was gone too."

Alfie watched intently as Evelyn reached for her glass with a shaky hand, his own quickly covering hers to stop her from spilling her drink over herself; helping her lift it to her lips. With a quiet whisper of 'thank you' Evelyn continued.

"I was heartbroken and trying to process the fact that my mother was gone; a good woman was dead. Polly was quick to take over the motherly role, she had lost both her children – Anna and Michael a few years back. She raised us like her own, that's why I trust her the most out of my family," Evelyn sighed, words getting stuck in her throat. 

"My dad died a couple of years ago – Polly and I cursed him so he would eternally feel the pain he put all of his children through in the afterlife. Tom found Michael not too long ago, his twin sister, Anna, passed though."

Pulling his girl onto his lap as he sat on the stool, Alfie and Evelyn held each other; two broken hearts finally feeling whole.

"If anything goes wrong tonight, love," Alfie whispered, brushing a few strands of Evelyn's hair out of her eyes and tucking them behind her ears. "Please don't curse my fuckin' grave, yeah?"

A sound between a sob and laugh rumbled through Evelyn's chest as she swatted Alfie's shoulder. "Shut up!"

"This scares me," Alfie admitted, the words forcing themselves out of his mouth; Alfie Solomons never admitted to being afraid. "I feel like, right, I feel like I can tell you things that I can't even tell myself."

Choosing to show, not tell; Evelyn rested her hand against the back of Alfie's neck before meekly pulling him towards her, encasing his lips in a kiss that told him a thousand more words and emotions than she could ever speak. 

He knew he was home when his lips touched hers.