It's the roaring twenties in Birmingham, the Peaky Blinders exist alongside God but they were much, much closer at hand than Him. Mercedes de Silva, thornless withered rose, petals filled with sorrow. Thomas Shelby, ruthlessly ambitious, conflicted...
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Camden Town, London
CLICK, CLACK, CLICK, CLACK. The sound of the raven haired woman's heels grabbed the attention of Alfie Solomon's workers. As soon as they realized who it was, they returned their heads back to work. Some of them were carrying crates and pushing barrels filled with rum. A small spark of explosions from the bottles caused by the workers made her flinch a little.
"Mornin' Ollie, is Alfie already here?" Mercedes greeted the tall man as she entered the distillery, clutching her coat closer to her body. Ollie gave her a warm smile, "Aye, he just got 'ere an hour ago."
"A'right, I'll see you later then," the woman nodded at him before making her way to his boss' private office, her heels still clicking sharply on the solid floor.
"Damn, woman. D'ya know ya got a scary walk?" is what welcomed her once she's inside the office, Alfie was sitting on his chair. It seemed like he is in a good mood today, on normal days, she could hear him shouting and cursing from the outside of distillery.
"I do, Alfie," she winked at him, placing the bag over her own desk cramped with stack of papers. Her table was placed in the corner of Alfie's office, near the front door. It wasn't small nor big, just enough for her and this damned paper works. But it's better than nothing, right?
"Cyril, come here!" Mercy whistled at the sleeping dog under Alfie's table, the bullmastiff immediately opened its eyes and ran towards the woman, wagging his tails, obviously happy to see her again.
"Been waking that sunovabitch since earlier but he sure does love pretty women," Alfie grunted as he scratched his arm. "Who doesn't, Alfie?" she laughed, stroking Cyril's face down to its body.
"Right you are," he pulled open his drawer and grabbed a bottle of white rum, perfect for the bosses. That dark stuff is for the workers and is fucking awful, according to him. Mercy noticed that he also took out two glasses, "You know I don't drink during work hours," she scowled, fighting the temptation to drink.
"Yer loss, Mercedes," he snickered and poured himself a glass. She just playfully rolled her eyes at him. Hearing someone call her by her real name still feels surreal, in the short time she had spent in Small Heath, she was used to be called by the name Imogen. Truth to be told, she kind of missed it but is in the stage of denial.
"Right, is your hips still hurtin?" the woman diverted the conversation, Alfie's been complaining about his hips non-stop for a while now. Anything could be the cause of Alfie's ailment, they haven't made a visit to the doctor yet and it's not like she could diagnose him right here, right now. Aside from acting as his secretary, you can say she's also his private nurse. Well, she's actually nursed him by the time he returned from war--treating his psoriasis.
"Aye, me fuckin hips hurt ev'ry now and then, pain in me ass," he sipped his rum and winced.
"¡Ay pobre chico! Should I get ya a bloody cane?" Mercedes poke fun at her friend, his laugh thundered inside the office. If someone actually dared to make fun of Alfie, he would gladly rip their vocal chords out and feed it to Cyril. Not her, she's an exception.
"I betta learn sum Spanish, damned if I know yer talking shit bout me," that made Mercedes snort.
"I'm gonna be a good teacher, you want some lessons? Here, say this que to folle un pez!" Mercy bit her lower lips to stifle her laugh.
"Meaning?" Alfie suspiciously eyed her, a small smile still plastered on his face.
"I hope you get fucked by a fish," their laughter filled the room, the men outside were thinking that their boss is going insane. One moment, he's a raging bull and now he's like a giddy young in.
Alfie Solomons has been a good friend to Mercedes and she was a good friend to him too. Their first encounter was at this Jewish charity event for the blind and disabled, one of Alfie's younger cousins was born without sight so he make generous donations for these kinds of charity.
He was certain of Mercedes sticking out like a sore thumb that day, wearing this white dress that stole anyone's attention, even his. She looked foreign, like she came from another planet. Words cannot actually describe how regal she was that moment, she wore her confidence like a crown. Despite that, there's this light aura surrounding her and kindness behind her eyes.
Alfie never knew the word hesitation, Alfie Solomons never hesitates. But at exactly that time, he was reluctant to approach her. His God knew how much he wanted to talk to that woman, much to his surprise, Mercedes came up to him first.
He learned that Mercedes was a nurse and a volunteer for children with special needs. She has a soft spot for children, especially the ones with disability. They had a lot in common, mainly their love for rum. Needless to say, he didn't mention his business—apprehensive about Mercy avoiding him if she knew what he does for a living.
Of course, all narratives must come to an end and their fateful encounter was no exception. They exchanged names and stories, but that was it. He found out that she was working in Islington, and it's not that far from Camden Town. Instead of going to a high-end hospital in London for his skin disease, he chose to visit the clinic she was working at. Where there's a will, there's a way.
"I will schedule an appointment for a doctor's visit, aye? You need to get proper evaluation," Mercy snapped him out of his trance as she plopped down on her chair, his dog resting beneath her feet.
"Ya do what ya want, love," Alfie murmured, glancing at the raven haired woman who's now busy arranging the papers on her desk. Minutes later, she was clutching her bag and stood up, "Where are ya goin?" he eyed her, taking his eyeglasses off
"St. Mary's?" Mercy replied, like she was stating the obvious. It was the nearest hospital near the distillery and she was sure that Alfie won't like if they travel for too long just for an evaluation.
"Jus leave that to Ollie," he replied and wore his eyeglasses back, "Oh, give the poor man a break. I'll do it, and I won't take long. I'll be back in an hour, I guess?" she checked the wristwatch that she bought when she receive her first pay back then.
Alfie knows how stubborn she can be, he sighed before speaking, "Tell Noah to drive ya to St. Mary's."
"Aye aye, captain!" she laughed and playfully saluted at him, he just rolled his eyes yet a faint smile was still on his lips.
It was sundown when Mercedes got off of work, as usual, Ollie had to drop her home as per Alfie's request. He had done so much for her, she can't even fathom how she can repay his kindness to her.
Mercy removed her coat and hanged it on the cloth rack near the stairs, she also left her heels there. As she was about to head upstairs to rest, she noticed a white envelope placed on her entryway table. Mercy can't remember if the envelope was hers and just forgot it there. Hastily, she grabbed the paper and read who the sender of the letter was.
Her mouth was left open, breathing seemed to stop, "Polly Gray."
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a/n: im sorry this chapter was so so so so short!!!!! stay safe yall <3
