deathinaprettypinkdress

[deathinaprettypinkdress]

Beautiful Lies: Chapter Two

A/N:  I posted this on both AO3 and FanFiction, and I thought I would post it here. I have found so many wonderful Peaky Blinders fanfictions and imagines, and I thought I would throw my hat in the ring, and maybe, hopefully, someone will like it.

Summary:  When Violet traveled to Small Heath to see her childhood friend, she thought the only thing that had changed about him was his name. She soon learns that isn’t the case, and struggles to recognize the boy she grew up with. MichaelxOC

1922

A year and half had gone by since Violet had last seen Henry-Michael, rather, it still felt odd to call him that. He had always been Henry to her. For a while he kept his promise. He wrote to her every few weeks. She was always thrilled to receive a letter from him, but they were becoming less and less frequent, as well as shorter and shorter. The last one that she had received from him was barely a paragraph, as opposed to the letters Violet sent him, always making sure to spray it with a bit of the lavender-scented perfume and giving the envelope a kiss before dropping it in the mailbox. But the last paragraph that she received from him, was perhaps the best letter she had gotten from him yet: an invitation.

Six months after Michael left, her father died, and only three months ago, her mother followed, and since then, she had stayed with her elder sister, Lucy. Michael had written her a week after her mother’s death, and the response Violet sent out was the one that contained news of her mother’s death. Only a week ago had Violet heard from Michael, expressing his condolences and inviting her to Small Heath, to stay with him and his mother, Polly. Violet had been hesitant to accept. Her entire life was in this little village, her friends, her sister, her nephew. Everyone except Michael. She still loved him after all this time, and she missed him everyday. She had expressed this concern to her sister.

Lucy’s response had surprised Violet. Lucy had told Violet that she ought to take Michael up on that offer. Lucy had decided that Violet had been too sheltered in the village and she should go out into the world, experience it, just a little. And Lucy had assured her that, if Violet was unhappy while she stayed in Small Heath, Lucy’s door would be open for her little sister. It was a scary thought to Violet, to leave the place that she called home. In all honesty, she was terrified. The world was daunting to her. She wanted to stay in her village, where she was safe. But against her better judgment, she listened to her sister, and decided to accept Michael’s invitation. She wrote back to him, and told him she would and by the time she would be coming. And Lucy had walked with Violet to the train station, hoping to provide her little sister with some comfort, and waved her sister off, not before kissing her forehead and giving one last reminder that she was welcome home at any time. And so, Violet set off for Small Heath, not knowing what she should expect.

As she sat on the train, with E. M. Forster’s A Room With A View sitting open in her lap, she stared out the window, almost in a daze. She couldn’t read her book now, she as too distracted and too nervous. Her mind was going a mile a minute, trying to think of what Small Heath could be like. Michael wasn’t too descriptive on what it was like, he only told her that there was such a difference between the little village and Small Heath. Violet didn’t know what to expect when she got off the train. She wouldn’t even know which way to go. She had an address, but she didn’t know which way or how far it was from the train station.

Michael had told her of his family, his mother and cousins. His mother, Polly, frightened her the most. Not only did Violet wish to impress her, as she was the girlfriend of his son and Violet wanted her approval, but in general, she sounded like she was a force to be reckoned with. She sounded different from Rosemary Johnson. Of course, Rosemary Johnson could be tough on her sons from time to time, Michael did have a mischievous streak. But Polly Gray sounded different. Tough in a different way. She sounded like someone Violet would move out of the way from when walking down the street. She sounded tough in a way that frightened Violet, but she also sounded like she tried hard to get to know her son.

The train ride to Small Heath took three and a half hours, but being so lost in her thoughts, those three and a half hours flew by, only feeling like twenty minutes, at most. As Rose exited the train, the first thing that she noticed was gray. It was so dreary and dark, so different from the blue skies and yellow sun and green grass in the village. Everything there was so vibrant, here, it was all muted. It would be enough to put anyone in a bad mood, to make anyone feel sad. But Violet wouldn’t feel sad, she couldn’t feel sad. She had missed Michael more than anything and she was thrilled that she was getting the chance to see him again. He told her that he worked for his cousins’ business as an accountant. Violet didn’t know exactly what sort of business it was, he rarely wrote about the business, and he barely gave her any details. She had tried to ask him more about his work, but in his letters, he always seemed to skirt about the question, never giving it to her straight. ‘This and that’ he would say. He would also say that there was some work with horses.

Violet was sure that having some of the work with horses would make him happy. She remembered his bay mare. Violet loved to ride too, but not so much as Michael. She would often go check up on his horse, and let him know that Michael would be coming home soon, even though Violet knew that was a lie. She had been completely wrong about Michael going to find his family. He was thrilled. He seemed to have settled right in, and even before her parents died, he had invited her to come visit him in Small Heath. Even in his shortest letters, he was trying to convince her to come and visit, but Violet had always refused.

Violet had even mentioned that to her parents and they refused to let her go. She had turned eighteen, her birthday just two months after Michael’s, and Violet’s eighteenth birthday had been three weeks before her mother died. In those three weeks, a conversation about Violet going to Small Heath hadn’t come up. But when she was seventeen, her parents refused to let her visit, saying that Small Heath wasn’t the place for a young lady. Even though they didn’t say whether or not they thought Michael had got caught up in it, but they did know of the crime that plagues Small Heath, and that it would be inappropriate for her to go unsupervised. They thought it was too dangerous for her to go at all.

Violet had asked for Lucy’s advice before she left, telling her about what their parents had told Violet. Lucy just told Violet to go directly to the address Michael gave her. That she should speak to know one but the cabby and wait for Michael. Lucy assured Violet that if he would invite her, that he ought to be willing to show her how things worked. ‘Any decent person would, at least,” Lucy had said. It wasn’t that Lucy didn’t like Michael, or the man she knew to be Henry Johnson. Far from it. Half of Violet’s childhood, Michael would be at their house. It was just that ever since Michael had moved, Lucy worried for her little sister. Violet was a romantic, and she was naive. Anyone growing up so sheltered as she had would be. And Violet had been so sure that Michael would be back. Lucy had only encouraged Violet to go, if only to snap her out of this little fantasy Violet had, of marriage and a house and a white picket fence and loads of children and a dog or two.

Lucy liked Michael, but she loved Violet. She doubted anything would come of their relationship. They were both so young. She just wanted her little sister to be happy, and she didn’t think that Violet would be happy with Michael. They both needed to move on, Violet especially. Violet had too many fantasies, her head was lost in the clouds and Lucy hoped that Violet would come down soon. She hoped this trip to Small Heath would wake her up, she knew Violet would be back with the month, sooner perhaps. Lucy didn’t know any other way to get Violet to come back to reality.

Violet left the train station and hailed a cab. She gave him the address, and sat quietly in the back as they drove to the address that Michael had given her. All the ride, Violet could feel butterflies swarming around in her stomach. She was afraid her nerves would get the better of her. It was important to Violet that she impress everyone in Michael’s family. Her parents had liked Michael, and they approved of their relationship, as did the Johnson’s. She wanted to impress the Gray’s, or rather just Mrs. Gray and the Shelby’s. It was clear through his letters that he loved his mother very much and held his family in a high regard, and Violet wanted them to like her. She had always had a bit of a problem with people liking her. She was always so desperate for it. Especially when it came to people in authority. She had always tried to kiss up to the teacher’s being called a teacher’s pet. It bothered Violet that many of her classmates didn’t like her, but she would rather have the teacher’s approval than her classmates. It was even something that Michael had teased her about. Violet just had to be accepted, and she was desperate for the approval of Michael’s family. The cab pulled to a stop in front of a nice looking house, and Violet stepped out of the cab. She turned and sweetly told him ‘Thank you so much,’ as she paid him and it was clear that such politeness was a rarity here. The cab drove away leaving Violet in front of the house alone. She took a deep breath, trying to get the courage she needed to go up and knock on the door, for the first time in a year and half almost, she was going to see Michael. She doubted he had changed that much in such a short amount of time. Could he? No, he couldn’t. He would be the same that he was as when he left. Things would pick up right where they left off. There relationship would fall right back in place and they’d continue as things had been before. The only difference would be the setting, and Violet could live with that.

Violet had dressed smartly for her trip. She was wearing a royal blue dress with a sheer overlay, that blew around the skirts with the wind. There was a dropped waist that was cinched just slightly, but still loose, in keeping with the current fashion. She wore an ivory coat that she hadn’t buttoned and she wore an ivory cloche hat. There was a wide collar lined in ivory lace.

Violet slowly walked up to the front door, taking her time as she did so. The butterflies were still swarming in her stomach, afraid of what would happen when she knocked on the door. She hoped that it was Michael who answered. After hearing of Polly Gray, Violet feared her, without having ever met her. Violet reached the front door before she was ready. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Time seemed to move slowly, too slowly for Violet’s liking. This felt like the three and a half hours that it was supposed to take for her to get to Small Heath from the village. The door opened up and Violet took another quick deep breath, getting much more nervous. She did so a little too quick and she ended up coughing a little.

“Christ, you look like you’re about to fall down,” said a woman.

Violet immediately looked up and a blush painted her pale cheeks. Violet hadn’t realized that she had become pale in all of her nervousness. The woman was short, shorter than Violet by about an inch, but she seemed to have such a commanding presence that it felt like she was towering over Violet. She had dark hair and dark eyes, and Violet guessed that this woman was Michael’s mother, Polly Gray. She was even more intimidating than Violet thought she would be. Violet stood still for a moment, her mouth hanging open. It took Violet a moment to realize, only doing so when she realized that the woman in front of her was looking at her expectantly. Violet shook her head slightly, and began speaking.

“Sorry, I’m fine,” said Violet, becoming flustered easily. “You must Henry-Michael, Michael’s mother. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Polly- sorry, Mrs. Gray. Or is it Ms. Gray?” Violet took a deep breath, before speaking again. “I’m sorry. I’m Violet Palmer. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The woman, Polly, Violet suspected, chuckled slightly. Violet calmed down slightly, becoming less tense. Still, Violet was nervous. She had just made a rambling introduction and she made herself look like a fool, and she was sure she would continue to do so.

“So you’re Michael’s Violet,” said Polly looking Violet up and down, trying to size her up. “You’re just about what I expected.”

“That’s good, I hope,” said Violet, nervously.

“It’s good,” Polly said, stepping out of the way. “Alright, in you get.”

Violet entered the house and looked around. It was nice, and while it wasn’t a mansion, it was still a larger than average home. She could see Michael living here and being happier than he was in the village. But then again, he might have felt more at home anywhere than the village.

“I hope that this isn’t an inconvenience,” said Violet.

“Not a bother at all,” said Polly. “Michael talks about you all the time.”

“Good things, I hope,” Violet said.

“Good things,” Polly confirmed. “Figured it’s time I finally met you.”

Violet felt much less tense, knowing that Polly wanted to meet her, and she was happy to know that Michael spoke of her. But she was still nervous. She wanted Michael’s family to like her. She hadn’t worried when it came to the Johnson’s. She had known them since she was a little girl. To her, there was little doubt that they would approve. But with Polly, she wasn’t so sure.

“Er, is Michael around?” Violet asked.

“He’ll be here soon,” said Polly. “In the meantime, I’ve put the kettle on. Let’s have a chat, hm?”

[deathinaprettypinkdress]

Beautiful Lies: Chapter One

A/N:  I posted this on both AO3 and FanFiction, and I thought I would post it here. I have found so many wonderful Peaky Blinders fanfictions and imagines, and I thought I would throw my hat in the ring, and maybe, hopefully, someone will like it.

Summary:  When Violet traveled to Small Heath to see her childhood friend, she thought the only thing that had changed about him was his name. She soon learns that isn’t the case, and struggles to recognize the boy she grew up with. MichaelxOC

1921

Violet Palmer was perfectly content in her little town. It was so quiet and calm and beautiful. She would have been happy to spend the rest of her life here. To get married and have quite a few children. It had always been her idea since she was a child. When she was little, she would have pretend wedding, with her dolls and stuffed animals as guests, and when she would zone out in class she would scribble names for her future children. She was happy to be a housewife, and greet her husband with a warm meal. It would be just as it was for her mother, who always looked at her father with such adoration, and her father always looking at her mother the same way.

It all seemed so dreamy and romantic. But, of course, that, the quiet comfort of the countryside, was the only sort of life Violet had ever known. She had never traveled, never had any desire to, never had any need to. Her parents granted her quite a bit of freedom, and for someone who had that, she was so sheltered. To her, the world never went beyond the picturesque little village she called home. It was a simplistic life of routine, and one Violet was glad to continue throughout her entire life. The idea of leaving had never occurred to her. Why would it? It was a peaceful place where everyone knew everyone, and it was safe, and perhaps that’s why Violet loved it so much. She never had the need to worry about anything.

Violet’s boyfriend, on the other hand, had other ideas. Violet had known Henry Johnson for years. Ever since Rosemary Johnson had adopted him. He had been her next door neighbor and she had been very eager to welcome him, wanting him to feel as at home as she felt. Violet was only five at the time. That was just the sort of person Violet was. She was always eager to make people feel at home. She always tried to be a great hostess, like her mother was. It was one of the traits of a good housewife, after all. But, despite her good friendship with Henry, she always knew that he wasn’t comfortable in the village. It was always too small for him. And no matter how hard Violet tried, she just could never make it so that Henry was comfortable in the village. She tried, though, she tried her hardest. But it always proved to be a futile effort. Still, it never put any sort of strain or damper on their friendship. And by the time she was fourteen and he was fifteen, the two of them were in a relationship. They would often sit and talk at the pretty white wishing well that was in the town square.

And that’s exactly where Violet was now, waiting for him to show up. Her red curls were tied with a cream-colored ribbon and a her hair was resting over her right shoulder. She was dressed in a green dress with little buttons that went for the waist to the collar. She had a cloche hat that matched her dress with a cream ribbon that circled the hat, matching the one that was in her hair. Her shoes were also cream-colored. She was sitting up straight, almost trying to project an air of being older that her sixteen years. It was always something Violet did. She always seemed a little to excited to put her childhood behind her, and be seen as an adult.

Her mother always warned her about that, telling her daughter to savor her childhood and youth for as long as she could. She had warned Violet that she would not be so young forever, and that she would regret it if she didn’t act like a child while she could. But after watching her elder sister, Lucy get married, that attitude only seemed to double down, and she doubled down even more when Lucy had her first child, a boy named Joseph. Violet had been thrilled to become an aunt, and even more thrilled to become godmother to the little boy, and it only made her all the more eager to grow up. But Violet had always been mature for her age. As had Henry. They had been mature in different ways, but they were mature nonetheless.

Violet was aware of what Henry’s life had been like before Mrs. Johnson had adopted him, or at least she was just aware of a little of it. She knew that Henry’s birth mother had turned to opium and gin and because she couldn’t take care of him properly, he had been taken away, and adopted into the loving Johnson family. Violet agreed with the decision to take Henry away. Any mother who neglected their child was unworthy of having a child to begin with. Violet had always loved babies, and thought that they were just the most adorable things, and she couldn’t understand how anyone could do them any harm. They were so sweet and innocent and just demanded to be cared for. If one’s parents couldn’t show their child love and affection, the child deserved to be put with someone who would and she was happy that Henry had been. It confused her, though, how Henry would often speak of wanting to find and meet his birth mother. How could anyone want to meet a parent who treated them so horribly at such a young age?

But Henry seemed determined that one day he’d meet his birth mother, if only to just ask her why she did what he did. Violet tried her best not to vocalize her opinions on this. She didn’t approve of it, but she tried to be supportive of him. She wanted him to do what would make him happy, and if what would make him happy was to confront his mother, then she would put her own personal feelings aside and let him and encourage him to do what he thought would be best, even if she was afraid that him doing this would put his happiness in jeopardy. But if doing that did make him unhappy, she would happily sit with him and comfort him and listen to him without any “I told you so’s.” But she couldn’t help but fear that it would result in unhappiness. But she hoped since her son had been taken away, his mother would have straightened out her act and got her life in order. If only in case her son ever sought her out. He would be eighteen in a few weeks, so he could make his own decisions.

Today, Violet had questions for Henry. Just yesterday, when his mother had called him home for dinner, she had seen a man approaching his house, and she could hear a commotion. She could hear Mrs. Johnson yelling at Henry, telling him to go in the house. Violet had wanted to go and see what was going on, to make sure that Henry was alright, as hearing Mrs. Johnson telling Henry to go inside had cause Violet some worry. But her mother had told her that it was none of her business and that it was almost dinnertime for her family. And so as desperate as Violet was to know what was going on, she reluctantly stayed.

Violet saw Henry approach her and a smile lit up her face, her dark green eyes sparkling brightly. She was eager for answers, and hoped that everything was alright with him. She had been more worried about him than showed, and she was glad that he looked alright. But as he neared her, she could tell that he looked serious, more serious than he had been when she saw him yesterday, only a few minutes before the man showed up. She wondered what it was all about. It was all so confusing. Nothing like that ever happened here. It was all so strange and out of place. Perhaps it had something to do with his birth mother. That was the only thing that Violet could think of. It was the only thing that made sense to her. Henry did often stick out here. It wasn’t too noticeable, but it was clear that he didn’t always fit in, in the small, fairly conservative village. He had adjusted just fine and loved his family the same as they loved him, but Violet always knew that he wasn’t content here. Of course, that was never anything that he hid from her. For as much as she loved living here, she knew Henry wasn’t and whenever he needed to complain, she would always offer him an open ear for him to complain about whatever he wished. Ever since their relationship began, though, Violet always hoped that she might help make the village more of a home to him. She wanted him to be happy, and she hoped that he could make him happy, she wanted to make him happy. She always hoped and she always tried to make him see the positives and the beauty of their little town. She always thought she could do that. She still thought that she might be able to do that. She hoped that the man she dreamed of marrying when she was a little girl would end up being Henry, and she hoped that he felt the same way about her that she did about him. He had to, didn’t he? They had been together for two years at this point. Surely it hadn’t all been for nothing. A few more years and perhaps they would be married. Both were interested in continuing their education, and once that was over, the two would be married.

“Hey,” Henry said, sitting next to Violet.

As he sat next to her at the wishing well, Violet greeted him as she always did: a chaste kiss on the cheek, something that, when in public, made Henry’s face turn red as a tomato. He didn’t mind kissing her and her kissing him in private, but he was a little embarrassed by it when it public.

But that was all the affection there was between them in public. Just a kiss on the cheek to say hello and goodbye, and hand holding. But there was plenty more kissing when they were in private. It was passionate kissing, but that was all it was.

Violet would never allow it to go past kissing. She had been raised by a deeply religious and conservative mother. Any form of sex was not allowed until after marriage. Henry never pressured her. He had commented that he didn’t like the idea, but that was that. He never tried to take it any farther than she was comfortable with, and Violet appreciated that.

“Hey,” said Violet. “I heard some commotion at your house last night. Everything alright?”

Violet could feel Henry tense up, and he left her in silence for a few moments, as if he was trying to collect his thoughts, trying to figure out where to start, trying to figure out just how to say. Violet grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently, trying to offer him some form of comfort. It was her silent way of saying that he could say anything and she would listen. Not judge, not offer unwarranted advice, not tell him what to, or give him her opinion, just listen. She would offer him an open ear, and speak only when he asked for her opinion, asked for advice, ask for her input, and when he did, he would happily give it. But she was worried for Henry, and wanted to know just what happened last night.

“A man came to my house yesterday,” said Henry. “He told me that my mum wanted see me. My birth mum.”

Violet didn’t know exactly what to say, how to respond to that. Was that good news? Bad news? She knew that Henry wanted to meet his birth mother, but know that he had to opportunity, he didn’t seem to know what it was he was going to do.

“And?” Violet asked. She didn’t want to press him, but she wanted to make sure she was alright.

“He said they took me by force,” said Henry. “She wasn’t on opium. She wants to see me.”

Violet didn’t exactly know what she should think about it. She felt like she could be so much more supportive of him finding his mother knowing that his mother wasn’t some drunkard who was taking opium instead of looking after her son.

“Are you going to go see her?” Violet asked.

“I’m eighteen in a few weeks, I can do whatever I want,” said Henry.

Violet sighed. She knew that Henry was excited to turn eighteen, and he’d finally be able to get out of this little town. Violet understood, even if that wasn’t what she wanted, but she would support him in that, but she wanted him to come back to her.

“That wasn’t my question,” said Violet. “Are you going to see her? You know I’ll support whatever you do.”

“I want to,” Henry said, after a moment.

“Well, where is she?” Violet asked.

Violet was a little nervous to have that question answered. What if it was too far? Violet would have followed Henry to the ends of the earth, if only he asked. It wasn’t too far for Violet. She would find a way to get to him. But what really worried her was how long he would be gone. She would wait for him, without question, but she was afraid of how long he would be gone. She would turn down any other man who approached her, wanting to enter a relationship, all for Henry.

“Small Heath, Birmingham,” Henry told her.

Violet let out a small sigh of relief. That wasn’t too far. She didn’t know how far it was exactly, but it couldn’t have been more than a few hours by train. It wasn’t like the two of them would be days apart. There were far worse distances and compared to all that, a few hours was nothing. She didn’t know much about Small Heath, or Birmingham in general. Her whole world extended to the little village she called home. But any distance was too far for her, seeing as he had been so close to her since he was adopted. But she knew how important it was to meet his mother, and she was sure that knowing that his mother wasn’t the woman he thought she was. She couldn’t blame him wanting to meet her. And so she grabbed his hand and squeezed it again, in the hopes of giving him some more comfort. She would support him, and she hoped that he would come back one day, because she would be waiting for him to.

“You should go, Henry,” said Violet. “I know how important it is to you.”

“Really?” Henry asked. He seemed almost shocked at her agreeing.

“Yes,” said Violet, giving him a smile.

“Do you want to come with me?” Henry asked. “Get out of here.”

Violet sighed. She couldn’t. As much as she didn’t want to leave Henry. For starters, she was only sixteen. Henry could get away with it. He would be eighteen in a few weeks, and so long as he wasn’t caught, he could stay there until his birthday without being taken home. Violet, could not. If she was found out after Henry’s birthday, she could be taken back, and her mother would be furious.

And there was the fact that Violet actually liked the village. She wanted Henry to like it to. Perhaps it wouldn’t be back. Perhaps meeting his mother wouldn’t be like he thought it was. Maybe he would come back to the village, come back to her. And they would be married like they had promised. And things would go back to the way they were.

“I can’t,” said Violet. “What would Mum and Dad think? They’d be furious, and they’d be worried. I can’t leave them. But will you write me? Call me? I just want to know that you’re all right.”

Henry nodded. It was so subtle that Violet just barely noticed it. But it was there. And with that confirmation, Violet felt content knowing that he was going to be doing something that made him happy, and she was going to hear from him on how things were going. And hopefully they would be reunited sooner rather than later. Violet wanted Henry to be happy.

“When are you going, Henry?” Violet asked.

“Michael,” he responded.

“What?” Violet asked, clearly confused.

“Michael,” Henry repeated. “That’s my name. My real name-Michael Gray.”

“Michael Gray,” Violet repeated. That would take some getting used to. “Well then, Michael Gray, when are you leaving.”

“Tomorrow,” he replied. “I told my mum, well… I told her I was going to be with you. Just tell her you were with me, and I won’t go home. Alright?”

He stopped and Violet simply nodded. It was far too soon. She didn’t want him to leave so quickly. But she couldn’t imagine being lied to about her parents, about what they were like. And so she wouldn’t try to get him to stay, as much as she wanted to. She just hoped that this whole thing wasn’t pointless, that it was for the better, not worse. Violet felt terrible at the prospect of lying to Mrs. Johnson. Mrs. Johnson was a good woman and she loved her sons dearly. Even if Henry -Michael she reminded herself- wasn’t her son by birth, she treated him just as she would if he was her biological son. She would be devastated to hear that he had gone. Violet was also worried Mrs. Johnson wouldn’t believe her. Violet rarely lied, and when she did, it was so easy to catch her she was hopeless at it.

“Wouldn’t you rather wait until you’re eighteen?” Violet asked. “Won’t it be easier? Suppose you’re found out. What then?”

“They won’t find me,” said Henry confidently. “You’re the only person I’ve told, and you won’t tell them, will you?”

Against her better judgment, Violet nodded. She loved Henry and she would lie if what she was doing was for his happiness. She just hoped that she was able to keep her secret. She didn’t know how long she could keep the lie going, but she would try, for Michael’s sake. It was so weird to think. Michael. That would take a lot of getting used to. But that was nothing. It was just a name. A rose by any other name and all that, Violet thought.

“Alright,” said Violet. “But, please write me when you’re all settled in. Okay?”

“I promise,” said Michael.

[deathinaprettypinkdress]

Aw! Love it!

Treat Her Fair (Alfie Solomons x Reader)

buy me a coffee

Thank you so much to @lex-bb13 for this request - this is for you dear. I have absolutely loved writing it and I hope you like it as much as I do. I really love writing for Alfie so if anyone has any other request pretty please let me know. 

I have changed one quote from the show as I didn’t want to include a ‘slur’ and didn’t want to offend anyone by using it. 

Words: 2027 - is this my longest fic? 

Warnings: swearing, Alfie has a gun (is this a warning? idk)

It was a widely known fact throughout Alfie’s ‘bakery’ that Y/N was always to be treated kindly and with respect – if they didn’t, they’d either lose their job or their life. Whichever Alfie saw fitting. Any new men that came to work for Alfie were given a strict talking to before they were even allowed to meet you. Alfie’s assistant, although you were more involved within the business than just an assistant. Some would say that you were partners in the business if they didn’t know you well enough.

“Y/N love, bring me those papers o’er here will ya?” Alfie stuck out his arm, fingers outstretched waiting for you to place his papers into them.

“Of course, Alfie. Although, you do have legs you know.” You quickly gather together the papers that Alfie was referring to and carefully place them in his hand, giggling as you do so.

“Thank you, darling. My sciatica’s playing up again, ain’t it.” You nod and smile, making your way back to your desk across from him.

“If you say so boss.” He gives you a disgruntled look which quickly turns into a smile. He could never be mad at you. No matter the circumstances, you could do no wrong in Alfie’s eyes.

When you had first started working for Alfie Solomons, your desk had been wedged into the very corner of the room and cluttered with mess. You had barely started your first shift before Alfie had hurriedly crossed the office to clear the mess for you, he refused to let you help him. He had said that it should have been done before you started and that he would be having words with Ollie for not doing so. You had laughed at that, already knowing that he hadn’t asked Ollie to do anything of the sort. The sound of your laughter had made Alfie feel warm and he knew instantly that he was going to like having you around.

The very next morning you walked into the office and shook off your coat, hanging it on the back of the door. Alfie had yet to arrive, so you took a seat at your desk and started with your day. Not even ten minutes later did Alfie stumble through the door looking dishevelled. His scarf hung haphazardly around his neck; his hat slightly askew; and his shirt was buttoned all wrong. He was breathing heavily, as if he had run the entire way from his house to the ‘bakery’.

“Alfie, are you alright?”

“I’m fine love, don’t worry.” He threw his coat off and tossed it onto the back of the door, a skill you had admired since you had started your employment. You must remind yourself to ask him to teach you one day. You smiled at the thought. “Cyril, the bloody pest. He got out this morning chasing a bleeding cat.” Clearly Alfie had had to chase his dog down the street before he had made his journey to work. He explained all this whilst placing his hat and scarf onto the armchair next to the door.

You watched him as he limped across to his desk, using the edge as a support as soon as he was close enough.

“You forgot your cane Alfie. What did the doctor tell y-“

“I know, yeah. I’m sorry. Won’t happen again darling, alright?” You nod your head as you accept his promise. Alfie takes a seat in his chair with the least amount of grace a man of his stature could manage.

“Don’t forget you have a meeting with –“

“Thomas Shelby, I know love. How could I forget?” He smiles across at you and you return the gesture.

“Here, let me help you Alf.” You move towards him and he watches you carefully as you approach him.

You go to crouch down, but he stops you, instead standing up and turning himself so he sits perched on the edge of his desk, you were now stood in front of him. You delicately start to undo the buttons of his shirt, starting from the bottom and working your way up. This was an entirely new interaction between the both of you, a blush was creeping up your cheeks at the thought of how close the two of you were in that moment. Maybe you had thought of Alfie in another way than just your boss before, but nothing too extreme. But now these thoughts were running a mile a minute through your brain. Your hands begin to shake slightly as your fingers continue unbuttoning his shirt. You look up to his face briefly, a look of serenity on his face, his eyes bright and soft as he watches you.

Underneath his shirt he wears a sleeveless vest, a few tattoos peeking out from underneath the material. Without ogling at him for too long, you begin to re-button the shirt, taking care to ensure that it is done correctly this time.

You step back and pat his chest with both hands, smoothing down the material of his shirt.

“There we go.” You smile sweetly as you walk away from him and back to your desk. As you look across to him, he stays stood there as if in shock.

“Alfie, Mr Shelby will be here soon.” He quickly leaves his stupor and takes his seat again. His face flushed – was he blushing?

“Yeah, yeah, alright darling. Thank you.” He doesn’t look across to you as he speaks, his gaze set on his desk, rearranging the articles that sit atop it to make it more presentable.

Embarrassment starts to seep into you as you think over what you had just done. It was inappropriate. Uncalled for. You were going to lose your job.

“Alfie, I’m so-“

“Alfie, Mr Shelby’s here to see you.” Ollie has the most perfect of timing. Alfie nods in response and gets up to follow the boy out of the door.

“Stay here love alright? I won’t be long.” He winks at you as he shuts the door behind him.

Your heart rattling in your chest.

Minutes tick by as you sit and fill out paperwork and then file it away. Alfie returns through the door, his body language clearly showing signs that he means business. It’s strange to see him this way compared to when he is so relaxed.

You keep to yourself as they converse, Thomas Shelby, takes a seat opposite from Alfie. He immediately reaches into his coat pocket and retrieves a packet of cigarettes and a lighter.

“I came here to discuss business with you Mr Solomons.”

“Yeah.” Alfie nods in recognition of this, almost sarcastically if you know him.

“So, she needs to go.” Alfie stops all movement as you faltered in your writing.

“Who Y/N?” You look up, not moving your head, to make eye contact with Alfie, his expression stern. “Nah, mate. She stays.” Thomas looks uncomfortable under Alfie’s gaze as he stares him down. “She stays whether you fucking like it or not mate.”

You return to your work again, but this time you try your best to listen in on their conversation just metres from you.

“Y/N love.” You look up to Alfie as he addresses you. “Do you mind pouring us both a drink?” He then turns back to Thomas, “Well rum is for fun and fucking, isn’t it? So Whisky,” he glances across to you to let you know it’s whisky he wants. “Now that is for business.” He chuckles to himself; Thomas continues to look unamused by the situation.

“Let’s talk first, eh?” Instantly Alfie’s attitude changes to one firmer than before. As you pour Alfie a tumbler of whisky and place it on the mat in front of him, he gently takes your wrist into his hand. You look to his face but for the first time cannot read what he is thinking. He then takes your empty hand between the both of his and holds them there. “Get yourself a drink as well love, yeah?” You nod hesitantly, slightly confused by his behaviour. He’s never offered you a drink during a meeting before.

As you let the two men continue their meeting you sit cradling a tumbler of rum in your hands. Whisky was never to your tastes and even after working at the ‘bakery’ for so long, you still couldn’t find a liking for the drink.

It is Alfie that pulls your from your thoughts, “So don’t come in here and sit there in my chair, insulting my woman, and tell me that I am losing my war to a fucking Italian.” His voice was raised and harsh. The only words that registered in your brain was my woman. You weren’t his woman. He had never shown any interest in you like that.

You heart pounds in your chest as the conversation becomes more heated. Nervousness settles in as your hands start to shake and your breathing becomes uneven. Situations like these were never pleasant, especially when Alfie was at the centre of them. Honestly, he scared you when he became like this. Erratic and unreasonable was Alfie.

“Intelligence. Intelligence is a very valuable thing, ain’t it, my friend?” Alfie’s gaze shifts to you momentarily as he addresses Thomas, a look of regret passes over his face, but it was gone before it was really there. “And usually,” You knew exactly what he was going to do as his hand rummaged in his open desk drawer, “it comes far too fucking late.” His hand emerges from under the desk, a gun gripped tightly between his fingers. He cocks it and aims it directly at Thomas’ head.

“Alfie!” His name leaves your lips before you can even think about saying them. If he heard you, he didn’t acknowledge it.

“Let’s say that I shot you already, right, in the fucking face.” The tone of his voice terrified you, tears beginning to spill from your eyes.

“Alfie please.” He briefly looks to you, his face turning ashen as he sees the tears falling down your cheeks. Instantly he puts the gun away, ignoring the Shelby at his desk and he pushes his chair backwards and approaches you. Before you can even register that he is stood in front of you, he engulfs you in a hug. A hug so tight and warm, you don’t ever want to let go. You felt safe considering the situation that had just unravelled before your eyes.

“I’m sorry love, I’m sorry. Alright.” He kisses the top of your head gently. “I didn’t mean to scare ya.”

During this moment, Thomas Shelby stares at the both of you in pure and utter shock. Never did he think he would see the infamous Alfie Solomons consoling a woman with so much care. Tommy knew that from here the meeting was over, any chance of a deal was now scarce.

He silently left the office, leaving the door slightly ajar.

After a few moments held in Alfie’s arms you slowly begin to stop shaking. The tears long stopped, and your breathing was somewhat back to normal again.

“Alfie. Please don’t ever scare me like that again.” He shook his head, a silent promise that he would never do something like that again in front of you.

Leading you over to his desk, Alfie lets you take a seat in his chair. You’d never sat in his chair; it was known that nobody was to sit in that chair other than Alfie himself. He’d nearly shot Ollie’s head off when he put his hand on the chair when it was new, let alone sat in it.

“Alfie.” He hummed as a response, his eyes never leaving yours, your hands held softly within his. “Y-you called me your woman, w-when you were talking to Mr Shelby.”

“I did, didn’t I?” He chuckled to himself and bowed his head to look at the floor. “Well, that’s if you’d like to be my woman, love.” A cheeky grin began to spread across his face as a near identical one spread across yours.

“Of course, Alfie.”

Neither you nor Alfie had felt this happy in a long time.

[deathinaprettypinkdress]

Masterlist

Alfie Solomons

Ongoing Works-

Shape Like A Gun Chapter One Chapter Two

[deathinaprettypinkdress]

Shaped Like A Gun: Chapter Two

A/N:  I posted this on both AO3 and FanFiction, and I thought I would post it here. I have found so many wonderful Peaky Blinders fanfictions and imagines, and I thought I would throw my hat in the ring, and maybe, hopefully, someone will like it.

Summary:  Essie Rosen wanted to stay far away from the crime that occupies Camden Town, and one that her brother is a part of. But after his death and being laid off, Essie finds herself in a desperate position. With no other options, she finds herself working for Alfie Solomons, her brother’s old boss. Her position becomes desperate once again though, as she finds herself falling in love with him. AlfiexOC

Despite having the most peaceful night’s sleep she had in weeks, Essie woke up filled with dread.

She had accepted a job for one of the most feared men in London. She woke up questioning the decision. She could pay this months rent, but after that, she wouldn’t be able to. She’d be thrown out onto the streets. At that point, her only other option was becoming a prostitute. She couldn’t do that. She knew her mother would be turning over in her grave Essie resorted to that. She doubted her mother would see taking the same path of her brother as much better, barely a step up.

But she was desperate and beggars couldn’t be choosers.

She wore a navy blouse with small orange, red, green and yellow floral embroidery at the neckline, and chose a navy skirt that fell halfway down her thighs. She also wore a black stockings and black shoes with a small heel. It was a similar style to what she wore when she was working at the doctor’s office. It was simple, professional and it added a small and subtle pop of color to a dreary setting. And from what her brother had told her of Alfie Solomons and his factory, a small and subtle pop of color would be exactly what was needed. She also brought a navy knit cardigan, thinking it might be cold in the bakery.

She looked herself over in the mirror, second guessing her outfit choice. Was this right thing to wear to the bakery. She assumed it was. It was the same sort that she had worn when she worked at the doctor’s office. She’d be doing the same thing essentially. The only difference was the legalities of it all. But she wouldn’t be doing anything illegal, or at least that’s what Alfie had told her she wouldn’t be last night. Whether or not he was honest remained to be seen. She was tempted to change into a black blouse and black skirt, without any hints of color at all. But she decided not to.

She did like to keep up with current fashions, or at least pretend she could afford to. Without a paycheck, she had to forfeit her guilty pleasure of fashion magazines. But she held on to her old ones, just to flip through. She had plenty of old copies of Vogue, Cosmopolitan, and The Delineator. She had to admit, she was eager to buy more copies now that she was going to have a little extra pay for them.

When she had looked herself over, multiple times, making sure she looked right, overthinking every possible detail, she grabbed her brown coat and black cloche hat and left. She doubted any of the men at the bakery would think twice about what she was wearing, or even knew the first thing about current fashion and she doubted any of them even cared about that sort of thing. But she was still worried, as she was sure that anyone would be going into the workplace of a deadly gangster for the first time, or at all, for that matter. She had decided that it’d be best not to tell Mrs. Hirsch about this job until after her first day.

She had told the other girls who had asked her about where she was going that she was job hunting, the same as she did every day, too afraid of what she would be in store for if she told them that she would be going to work for Alfie Solomons, they’d ask questions, and probably think she was insane for accepting such an offer. They’d put ideas in her head about how he’d kill her if she ever did anything to displease him. Essie didn’t need them to tell her that, those thoughts were already quite prominent in her mind, and she was terrified that she was going to end up dead by the end of the week. She didn’t need those other girls feeding her fears when she was already so terrified.

One of the girls who continued to pester Essie on what Alfie Solomons wanted was Annette. She was a tiny thing, at twenty-one she only one year younger than Essie, and her green eyes always held a sort of mischievous glint in them. She was quite curious as to what Alfie Solomons wanted in Mrs. Hirsch’s house, particularly what he wanted with someone like Essie.

“What was Alfie Solomons doing here last night, Essie?” Annette asked.

“My brother used to work for him,” said Essie. “He died and he wanted to make sure I was getting on all right.”

“Really?” Annette asked. “Never saw him as one to really give a shit about his employees families.”

“Well, apparently he is,” said Essie.

“I hear he’s a bad man,” said Annette, clearly trying to get under Essie’s skin.

“Yes, I’ve heard that, too,” said Essie. She tried to make it clear that she didn’t want this conversation to continue.

“Did he seem very bad when you talked to him?” Annette asked.

“No, Annette,” said Essie, becoming exasperated. “I spoke to him for five minutes.”

“Isn’t that enough?”

“I don’t know, Annette,” Essie snapped.

“Are you afraid?” Annette asked. “That he’ll kill you.

Yes, Essie thought, but she didn’t say that. She just wanted this conversation to end. Annette was starting to get on her last nerve, which was saying something, considering what an even-tempered, patient person Essie normally was. But she was nervous enough today without having Annette interrogate her about Alfie Solomons. Especially filling her mind with horror stories about him.

“I’m going,” said Essie.

“What’s the rush?” Annette asked. “You don’t have a job.”

“I need one,” said Essie. She wasn’t going to tell Annette. Not yet, at least. “And the sooner I set off, the better.”

With that, Essie left, eager to get as far away from Annette as possible. It wasn’t that she disliked her, it was just that she didn’t want her fears to be any greater than they already were. She was not going to have her fears fed into any more. Besides, she didn’t want to be want to be late on her first day, especially was her employer was Alfie Solomons. She was sure that wasn’t the best idea.

The walk to the bakery wasn’t too long, only about fifteen minutes. But as she got closer, she could feel herself becoming more and more nervous. She would have been a fool not to be nervous. Alfie Solomons was know for his vile temper, and his cruel nature.

The bakery seemed to loom over her as she approached it. She felt like she didn’t belong in a place like this, but she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. She was desperate and she didn’t have much of a chance at getting another chance anywhere else. She didn’t have any chance at getting a reference from her old boss. She considered it a miracle that Alfie would hire her without any. She didn’t know anyone else who would do such a thing. But she was working for a gang leader, a tough, violent gang leader. Someone who was known for having a temper that could be set off by the smallest thing, and Essie really hoped that she would not be one to set off that notorious temper of his.

Essie would keep to herself while she worked here. She wouldn’t step out of line. She wouldn’t ask questions about the business. She wouldn’t stick her nose where it didn’t belong. She would keep quiet and keep out of the way. She would go to work everyday, she would do what was asked of her, and she would go home.

Essie took a deep breath as she began walking into the bakery. She could clearly see that her arrival was unexpected by those in the bakery. The men had stopped working and turned to her. Some were looking at her with lustful eyes, some where looking at her with curiosity, clearly not used to seeing a women in the bakery.

She was sure women didn’t walk in here everyday. Perhaps a few whores for Alfie, but that was probably it. She clearly wasn’t a whore, and any suspicions that she might have been, were probably confirmed false by the way she was dressed, in such a professional manner, as well as her demeanor, the fact that she could feel herself trying to make herself smaller.

It was clear that she was uncomfortable by the stares she was receiving from the men, both the lustful ones, and the curious ones. She kept trying to make herself smaller, and tried not to make eye contact. As if they wouldn’t exist if she didn’t pay them any attention. She had worked in a factory before, when she was seventeen, just after she finished school, while she was looking for a secretarial position, in an attempt to bring home just a little extra money for her mother and brother. The conditions weren’t the best, and she hated every minute of working there. But this factory wasn’t like the one that she had worked at. It was so much darker here, no natural lighting. Granted, the factory that she worked out was fairly dark as well, but there was at least a little natural light on good days. And she had been making clothes to be shipped off to department stores, and not ‘bread.’ Luckily, she wouldn’t be working on the factory floor.

Essie didn’t exactly know where she was going, she just figured that if she kept walking she would figure out just where exactly she needed to be. Or at least she hoped. Alfie had been as vague as possible when he had given her instructions. He had just told her to come to the factory and that she had s job that paid twice as much as her old one. As she walked deeper into the factory, she was becoming more and more nervous. She hadn’t even realized that she could become even more nervous than she already was. But she continued to prove herself wrong with every step she took. She didn’t like looking scared in a place like this, surrounded by so many men who were bigger and stronger, than her short, slender frame.

Essie tried to put her fears into the back of her mind, trying not to focus so much on it, as it clearly wasn’t helping her situation. She worked here, she wasn’t doing anything wrong by being here, she tried telling herself, as a way to help calm her nerves. She didn’t know how long she had walked before she had been stopped by a man, lanky and taller than her, though most people were, with short, dark, curly hair.

“You’re David’s sister, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Essie, holding out her hand. “Esther. Or Essie.”

“Ollie,” the man replied, shaking her hand. “C’mon.”

With that he started walking and nodded for Essie to follow him. Essie did just that. Essie walked a few paces behind him, and her eyes glanced to the side, and she saw some of the men’s gazes shift from lust to curiosity. She quickly moved her gaze directly in front of her, once again trying not to make eye contact with any of the men who were working. He stopped sin front of an office door and knocked on it. Essie noticed that there was a desk outside the office with some pens and pencils, blank paper and a typewriter. She assumed that it was the desk where she would be working. There was a grunt from inside the office. Essie assumed that it was Alfie. Ollie opened the door and poked his head in.

“David’s sister is here,” said Ollie.

“Well, send here in,” Essie heard Alfie say in his gruff voice.

Ollie stepped aside and motioned for Essie to enter. Essie walked inside. Alfie was sitting hunched over his desk looking over some paper work. There was a chair across from his and Essie hesitantly sat down. She folded her hands in her lap. She sat there in silence, waiting. After a moment, Alfie looked up, looking her up and down, and Essie held her breath.

Essie resisted the urge to look down at her lap, as she began twiddling her fingers, a nervous habit she had ever since she was a little girl. But she didn’t want to look too cowardly or timid in front of Alfie. A part of her wanted to, just as a some sort of show that she wanted to keep quiet and keep out of the way of everything, but she didn’t. She looked at him. She would be lying if she said he was unattractive. But Doctor Kennedy was attractive too, and that didn’t work out so well. And she was sure that Alfie was far more dangerous in comparison to Alfie Solomons.

“You have experience as a secretary, isn’t that right?” Alfie asked.

“Yes, sir,” said Essie.

“And you, yeah, left your old position?” Alfie asked.

“Yes, sir,” Essie replied.

“Why did you leave?” Alfie asked.

“Er, my employer and I had a conflict of interest, sir,” said Essie. It wasn’t technically a lie. His interest was to take her to bed, while Essie wasn’t interest in that.

“He wanted to fuck you,” Alfie said bluntly.

“Yes, sir,” said Essie after a moment, a little shocked that he knew that. She quickly added, “If this is about references, that’s why he hasn’t given me any. I’m a hard worked. I was the best in my class when I was at school.”

“Don’t worry, Miss Rosen, this ain’t about references,” said Alfie and Essie breathed a sigh of relief. “But if any of my men, yeah, harass you in any way, you let me know, a’right.”

“Yes, sir,” said Essie, a little surprised by the statement. It was the last things she was expecting, but she was happy to hear it.

“I’m a very bad man, Miss Rosen,” said Alfie. “But there are some thing I don’t tolerate. I don’t hurt women. And I don’t tolerate any cunt who does, yeah?”

“Yes, sir,” said Essie. “Thank you, Mr. Solomons.”

“Right,” said Alfie, pulling out a leather bound book that looked like a ledger of some sort. “I hear you’re good at maths, is that right?”

“Yes, Mr. Solomons,” said Essie.

“Good!” he said, handing her over the book. “I need you to balance this out.”

“Yes, sir,” said Essie, taking the book. “Is it right to assume that the desk outside is mine, Mr. Solomons?”

“Yeah,” he said, resuming his work. “Off you go, pet.”

Essie did as she was told. With the book in her arms, she left the office and went to the desk. She took her coat off and and hung it behind her chair and placed her hat in the corner of her desk, and immediately set to work. She almost thought it was odd that he referred to her as pet. Her old boss called her ‘sweetheart’ and ‘darling’ a lot. It bothered her. It sounded like he was being condescending, like he was talking down to her. But the way Alfie said it, she liked it. Perhaps it was because he didn’t sound condescending when he said it.

Essie immediately set to work, doing as she was told. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but she was pleasantly surprised. She hadn’t expected the books to be perfect, and they weren’t but she had expected them to be worse. Mathematics was always a strong suit of hers. She had always excelled in such that subject. Her mother knew she couldn’t keep her son from working for Alfie’s gang. He had been a troublemaker since he was a little boy. But Essie was smart. She could do more for herself than working in a factory. She could make her way up in the world. She would never be some upper class lady, but she could be a self-made woman. And thus, Essie’s dreams of being an artist, preferably illustrating children’s books, were put on hold, and sketching had become more of a hobby than anything else. And in the past few months, she hadn’t had the time to work on it that she wished she could have. She had long since accepted it was never meant to be.

Essie felt like she was letting her mother down by going to work for a man like Alfie Solomons. She had wanted so much for her daughter, and Essie had taken the exact same path as her brother. Granted, unlike her brother, she wasn’t doing any cuttings or beatings or killings like her brother had done. But she was still working for a gang nonetheless. Essie tried to put it out of her mind. If she was lucky, this would only be a temporary position. If she didn’t know if she could get another job. She wouldn’t get any references from her old boss, and she was probably going to have a stain on her record considering her new boss was a gang leader.

But she was in desperate need of a job and she liked to think that her mother would understand. She was in need of a job and Alfie had one to offer. That was all, and Alfie had assured her that what she would be doing would be legal. She wouldn’t be sent out to go do Alfie’s dirty work, she would be quietly sitting at a desk, keeping the books and whatnot.

But, Alfie seemed reasonable enough. He had told her that the men weren’t allowed to bother her, and to go straight to him if he did. The pay was well, and the work was nothing she wasn’t used to. Maybe being here wouldn’t be so terrible. But it was only her first day. Working for Doctor Kennedy had been nice enough for a while. And then it got bad. Essie could only hope that this job wouldn’t be the same. But considering her boss, she supposed that was one of the least of her worries. She had a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that it would be, but it was one that she tried to suppress, not wanting to think about that just yet.

[deathinaprettypinkdress]

This is so adorable!! ❤️❤️

Clucky

*Mentions of failure to conceive. Nothing dark, just a warning for those uncomfortable.

“You need to relax, Alf. You’ve been at it all day,” Alfie grunted in response. “You’re going to work yourself into an early grave, love.”

“M’fine,” Alfie scratched at his bearded chin before writing something down in one of his ledgers.

“Tea?” Y/N tried once more.

“S’nice,” Y/N sighed, and left to put the kettle on. It was supposed to be one of their rare relaxing days, but Alfie decided that he needed to add more work to his already toppling plate. The stress was causing the psoriasis along the top of his face to break out more than usual. 

Poor man. 

Keep reading

[deathinaprettypinkdress]

Shaped Like A Gun: Chapter One

A/N: I posted this on both AO3 and FanFiction, and I thought I would post it here. I have found so many wonderful Peaky Blinders fanfictions and imagines, and I thought I would throw my hat in the ring, and maybe, hopefully, someone will like it. 

Summary:  Essie Rosen wanted to stay far away from the crime that occupies Camden Town, and one that her brother is a part of. But after his death and being laid off, Essie finds herself in a desperate position. With no other options, she finds herself working for Alfie Solomons, her brother’s old boss. Her position becomes desperate once again though, as she finds herself falling in love with him. AlfiexOC

Essie Rosen had not been expecting any visitors. Particularly any male visitors. Her landlady, Ms. Hirsch, had strict rules on the women in her boarding house receiving gentleman callers. They were only allowed between seven in the morning and seven in the evening. The men had to be related to the women they were calling on, and they were not allowed to leave the sitting room. It was ten at night and since her elder brother, David had been killed a month prior, there were no men in her life. The closest thing she had to a man in her life was her old boss, Dr. Kennedy, and she had been out of his employ for the past three weeks.

It was a mistake to leave him. Since her brother’s death, she couldn’t afford the flat that the two of them shared, and she had take a room at Ms. Hirsch’s boarding house. She couldn’t stay working for Dr. Kennedy. He would often flirt with her, and that was something that made Essie deeply uncomfortable. His flirting was getting continuously worse and Essie couldn’t take it anymore. And Essie had snapped when he kissed her. She had been tempted to slap him, but she restrained herself, just barely. She handed in her notice and she hadn’t seen him since. She had been looking around for another but it had been hard. Any place that was hiring, wouldn’t hire her, because her bitter old boss wouldn’t give her a reference.

Essie was just about to go to bed. She always saved just a little bit of money, as she always hoped that she would do something else in her life, besides just be a secretary. She would have preferred to open a sketch artist and she had been saving up for new supplies. Now, that money was being used to pay her rent in her new boarding house while she was looking for a new job. Her dreams were put on hold, most likely forever. But Essie couldn’t complain. She wouldn’t complain. She took everything in her stride. She had a roof over her head, and food in her belly, and for now, that was all that mattered. She had more than plenty of others. She had no right to complain. Essie wasn’t one for complaining, very much unlike her brother. Her brother had been a good man, but he complained all the time, always wanting more. And while Essie herself wanted more, she kept her wants to herself, deciding that she had it better than others and she had no right to complain. Just as Essie was going to turn off the lamp and go to bed, she was shocked to hear a knock at her door.

Essie went to open the door, confused as to what it might be. It was ten at night, the doors were locked, and the only people in the house were Ms. Hirsch and the other girls. There were eight in total in the house. Essie guessed it might have been Geraldine. She was often came to Essie to borrow various things, but it was too late for her. She was probably still awake, but there was nothing that she would need now, was there? Essie opened the door and she was shocked to find the disapproving face of Ms. Hirsch. Granted, Ms. Hirsch always looked disapproving, but now, she looked angry.

“Yes, Ms. Hirsch?” Essie asked, beginning to feel a little nervous.

“Would you care to tell me why I have Alfie Solomons in my sitting room at ten at night asking for you?” Ms. Hirsch asked.

For a moment, Essie looked confused. What could she have been talking about? She knew about her brother, how he had been one of the first member of Alfie Solomons gang. Essie had even met the man a few times. It was very brief, and she didn’t think that he had paid her any mind. She didn’t approve of her brother being part of a gang, and she made that clear to him. Her words did nothing and he continued working for Alfie, and Essie just chose to ignore, making a rule for him to never talk about his work inside the house. Any sort of gang-related activity was left at the door. Essie didn’t want to hear about it. She want to pretend that everything that he was doing was legal and his half of the rent was coming from legal businesses.

She couldn’t understand why Alfie Solomons would be here to see her. She never had any sort of relationship with Alfie Solomons, there was absolutely no reason for him to see her. She had never exchanged more than a few words with the man, nothing more than ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye.’ And seeing the look on Ms. Hirsch’s face, made Essie even more nervous. She knew that even if her conversation with Alfie did go well, she would never hear the end of it from Ms. Hirsch, and that wasn’t something that Essie was looking forward to. Essie had heard Ms. Hirsch speak of Alfie Solomons and his gang and she made it clear that she really didn’t think highly of them. She thought that he was an evil heartless man and it was clear that she had a particular dislike towards Essie because of her brother being so closely affiliated with the gang, and that was saying something, as Ms. Hirsch clearly disliked everyone, and she never hid it.

“Er-I don’t know, ma’am,” said Essie, the wheels in her mind were turning trying to think of some reason that Alfie Solomons would want to see her.

“Well, go and see,” said Ms. Hirsch.

Essie said nothing, she only nodded. Ms. Hirsch stepped aside and Essie exited the room. Essie was wearing a peach robe over a sleeveless peach nightgown, both of which fell just below her knees. Unlike the day, when her brown hair was pinned up in a stylish but understated up-do, it was falling in loose curls, some of it tumbling over her shoulders and the sides that she cut to her chin, framing her face. Her gray eyes were wide with curiosity and fear, wondering what a man like Alfie Solomons could want with her. She hadn’t been wearing any shoes or slippers, so her bare feet quietly padded down the stairs making little noise. She stopped as she reached the threshold of the sitting room.

“Mr. Solomons?” Essie asked, her voice small and timid.

Essie did not want to show fear to Alfie Solomons, but she was failing miserably. She couldn’t help it. Alfie was sitting on one of the chairs and it was such a stark contrast. The chair was upholstered with pink fabric and it had a floral pattern. Alfie Solomons was dressed entirely in black, apart from his white shirt. Essie could see a few stains on his clothes, all understandable, considering all of the work Alfie did in his distillery—bakery. Essie scolded herself for thinking of the word distillery. She knew that Alfie had a temper. Everyone knew. The slightest thing could set him off. And she knew confusing ‘bakery’ and ‘distillery’ as well as ‘bread’ and ‘rum’ was something that would set off his temper. She did not want to be on the receiving end of his temper. She had never seen it, but she heard her brother speak of it. Even his descriptions were frightening. Alfie had a cane and he leaned on it as he stood up. Essie could feel herself shrink back as his eyes looked over her. It wasn’t in a lustful was, though, no the way that Dr. Kennedy looked at her. It was more of just getting a good look at her. It made her feel uncomfortable, but it was a different sort of uncomfortable. With Dr. Kennedy, she was afraid he would go too far, the kind of too far when he had kissed her. With Alfie, it was a fear of the unknown. Why he wanted to speak with her. There was no reason, as far as Essie could guess, that he would need to have any association with her. Essie would be lying if she said she didn’t find Alfie Solomons attractive. He certainly was. But he was also intimidating. He wasn’t that tall, but he was broad, and that was intimidating to Essie. He was could certainly knock Essie out in one blow, and Essie did not want to set him off. Would he hit a woman? Essie didn’t know. She had never heard of him hurting a woman. Any time she heard of anything he had done, any bodily harm that had been done, had been done to a man. But when he noticed how frightened she had looked, his face soften the tiniest bit, and seeing that made Essie relax a little bit.

“Ms. Hirsch said you were asking for me?” Essie continued, her voice shaking just bit.

She was wondering how he got in here. Ms. Hirsch’s rules where meant to be followed, and no exceptions were made. But then again, this was Alfie Solomons. He was always an exception. She was sure that everyone could be bribed with a certain amount of money, even someone with such staunch morals as Ms. Hirsch.

“You don’t have a job, Miss Rosen,” was the first thing he said.

Essie was shocked by his statement for a few reasons. The first, that he knew that she was unemployed, and the second, that he had come to talk to her about that. Was this really the reason that he was here? To talk to her about her employment status?

“Yes, sir,” said Essie, her voice laced with confusion and uncertainty.

“You do now,” said Mr. Solomons. “Be at my bakery at nine tomorrow morning.”

His words shocked her and she didn’t speak or move, a million thoughts running through her head. He began to take his leave walking past her and leaving the room and making his way passed Essie. Essie was frozen in place, her mind still trying to process his words. He just told her she had a job with the only details being that she needed to be at the bakery at nine. What sort of use would she be in a place like that? She didn’t even think he had any women working in his bakery. She certainly wouldn’t be useful as the kind of baker he would need. It wasn’t until Mr. Solomons opened the door, letting the cold night wind in that Essie finally jolted from her daze and looked towards him, and finally able to speak.

“Mr. Solomons?” Essie asked, her voice soft and nervous. “Forgive me, but I’m afraid I don’t exactly understand.”

Mr. Solomons turned around, and looked at her. Essie was relieved that he didn’t look angry. He closed the door and took a few steps towards her. In a few short strides he was directly in front of her and Essie’s eyes widened. Had she said something wrong? Was he going to hurt her because of that?

“I am in need of a secretary,” he said simply. “And you are in need of a job.”

Essie breathed a small sigh of relief, pleased that he didn’t seem angry with her. But she was still completely confused. She didn’t even think she wanted to work for Alfie Solomons. She knew that it was a dangerous line of business and she didn’t think she could be a part of it. She didn’t even want to be a part of it. Her brother was, and now he was gone.

“Why me, sir?” Essie asked, not being able to wrap her head around it.

“Your brother spoke highly of you,” said Alfie.

Essie looked confused. She knew that her brother was one of the first members of Alfie’s gang and had served with him in the war. And she and David had been close. But knowing that he spoke highly of her did make her smile. He had always been so reckless and despite how close they were, it had mostly been her taking care of him and not getting a thank you. Knowing he spoke highly of her warmed her heart.

But, she was still confused. Did that really qualify her to work for Alfie Solomons? Granted, she did have previous work as a secretary, she knew what she was doing. She was clever, an she was well aware of that. She had a good head on her shoulders, she was organized and she had a good head on her shoulders. But she was not a criminal, and she didn’t know if she could work for one.

“I take care of those who work for me, right?” he said. “And their families, if they die in my service.”

He continued as if that explained everything. She had heard about this from her brother. He had a tendency to be vague and expected everyone to know what he meant without elaboration. Her brother knew it, and after sometime, he was able to decipher what Alfie said. Essie didn’t have that sort of practice, though. For as clever as she was, this was something that was incredibly confusing for her.

“Look, you won’t have to do anything illegal,” he said, noting how apprehensive she looked at his offer. “And I’ll pay you double what you was making for that bastard.”

Essie seemed to be contemplating the offer. She was still confused. How did he know about her old job, the bastard that she used to work for, and how much she used to make? She decided not to question it. She was tempted to take this job. Her saved money wouldn’t be able to last for much longer, and as much as she didn’t wish to work for Alfie Solomons, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Alright, Mr. Solomons,” said Essie. “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Well, that’s fucking great, innit,” said Alfie, giving Essie a wide grin that she hadn’t been expecting, but it did bring a soft smile to her face.

As he turned and headed out the door, Essie said a quiet, “Goodnight, Mr. Solomons.”

She couldn’t believe it! She had a job and one that paid better than her other one, at that. It wasn’t her ideal job. Most jobs would have been better than working for a gangster, but like she had said, beggars couldn’t be choosers. She hadn’t been able to treat herself to new art supplies for quite some time and with double the pay, she would finally be able to buy some. That would make it all worth it.

Essie couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she turned around and made her way upstairs. But it disappeared when she saw Ms. Hirsch standing at the top of the stairs, waiting for her. She didn’t look pleased at having company so late, especially when that company was Alfie Solomons. He most likely had to bribe her with a hefty sum to be allowed in.

“What did that man want?” Ms. Hirsch asked, sounding annoyed and angry.

Essie couldn’t tell her that he had come to offer her a job. She would be thrown out on the streets if she found out that one of her boarders was working for Alfie Solomons. Now that she would have a steady income again, she could look for a place that didn’t have such strict rules. But she couldn’t do that just yet. She had to keep it hidden until she got her first pay check.

“Er-he just wanted to ask how I was getting on after my brother’s death,” said Essie.

Ms. Hirsch looked at Essie skeptically, but she didn’t say anything. Ms. Hirsch turned and began walking back to her room, and Essie breathed a sigh of relief. The smile that she was wearing as Alfie left returned to her face as she went back to her room. She closed the door and locked it as the reality of what she had done by accepting the position of Alfie Solomons secretary set in.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t scared. Despite her brother working as a gangster, or rather ‘baker’ was the correct term in Alfie’s mind as well as her brother’s, Essie wanted to be as far away from that sort of thing as possible. She wasn’t cut out for that sort of thing. She couldn’t shoot a gun. Hell, she didn’t even own one. She didn’t think she would need one though, or so she hoped. She was just a secretary. That’s it.

Being in such a close proximity to Alfie Solomons day in and day out was a little bit nerve-wracking. She had heard about his infamous temper and she was terrified that one day she would be on the receiving end. She wasn’t cut out for this sort of life, she was sure. She wasn’t tough in the way that gangsters were. But she reminded herself that she wasn’t a gangster, she was only a secretary to one.

Essie was the brains of her family, that’s what her mother had told her, while her brother was the brawns. David had once tried to teach her to shoot a gun. She fired one shot, and it scared her off. Even something like that was a little too much for her. But she wouldn’t be needed to fire a gun, or at least she hoped. She would just have to sit at a desk and do what she was told. That was nothing unfamiliar to her.

Essie tried to put her fears behind her as she settled into bed and turned off the light. She had to get to sleep, as she finally had a full day of work ahead of her. As she drifted off to sleep, she found herself looking forward to it. It hadn’t been so long since she had that, but she found that, while she had been looking for a job, she had missed it.