𝐞𝐠𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 · 𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

THE SMOKE THAT emitted from Evelyn's burning cigarette between her lips made the area in front of her look bleary. In her hand was a glass of Irish whiskey, the cubes of ice hitting the sides of the cup – the small sound reminding her to remain alert. 

The pub around Evelyn was just settling down, many people calling it an early night, their noise causing a small headache to begin to form – nothing that she couldn't drown out with good alcohol. Pinching her cigarette between her middle and pointer finger, Evelyn lowered the stick to the ashtray in the middle of the table; letting out a gentle exhale. 

"You and yer' fucking family sure do love those bloody things aye," rolling her eyes, Evelyn placed the cigarette back in-between her lips; inhaling before exhaling the smoke right in the direction of the man who had sat in front of her.

"Nice of you to finally arrive, Mr. Solomons," Evelyn sarcastically responded; downing the rest of her drink before stubbing out the cigarette.

"Got hol' up in a fuckin' meeting, didn't I?"

"You said to be here at half eight, I was," the girl bit back, finger circling around the rim of her glass. "You had me waiting here, alone, for half an hour, Alfie."

The older man ran a hand over his beard once before slumping back in his seat; holding the same hand out in Evelyn's direction. His mouth opening to say something, but obviously deciding against it when it shut again. 

Alfie truly didn't mean to leave Evelyn alone for as long as he had; but owning an illegal business and having to make the deals he did, made him lose track of time. It was clear that this had annoyed Evelyn by the way she had crossed her arms over her chest and propped her left leg over her right; closing herself off.

"My brother called earlier," Evelyn spoke, choosing to move on from the previous topic.

"Yeah?" Alfie began, leaning across the wooden table in-between them. "Right then, what'd he say?"

"He's making a deal with the Russians – said he'll be in touch when he knows more."

"Silly boy," Alfie tutted, shaking his head. "Those Russians are fuckin' crazy, right. I'm sure that given the fuckin' chance they would happily blow my fuckin' brains out."

"I'm sure that given the chance, many people would blow your brains out, Alfie."

"You laugh now, love but when it happens, yeah, my fuckin' brains will be all over the surfaces near me. Then right, then you'll hafta clean up my brains, that mush and bone, fuckin' awful that is."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience," Evelyn chuckled, her hand playing with the pearls upon her neck. Alfie only shrugged in response.

"Right, well we didn't come here to talk about fuckin' business," Alfie pointed a finger towards the girl, his multiple rings catching the lights of the pub. "I came here to take yer' fuckin' dancin' and introduce yer' to a friend yeah?"

A grin spread across Evelyns face as the rugged man stood and held his hand out toward her, her soft palm immediately reaching for his calloused one. Walking hand in hand through the almost empty pub – minus a few drunk stranglers who were struggling to keep themselves upright – Alfie led Evelyn to the bar. 

With a soft whistle, Alfie caught the attention of the pretty barmaid who immediately rushed over, rubbing a towel over her wet hands. Her jet black hair was pinned up with a crystal hair piece, dark makeup coating her eyelids. A wide smile graced her face as she looked at Alfie.

"Mr. Solomons," she proclaimed, tightening the knot of her apron. "Haven't seen you around here in a long time – imagine my surprise when you walked in like you own the place."