𝐞𝐠𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 · 𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞

𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟓

AMUSEMENT WAS EVIDENT on Evelyn's face as she watched Alfie curse, chasing Cyril around the living room. The dog squeezing himself between the back of the ancient lounge she was sitting on and the wall.

"Fuckin' mutt," Alfie cursed, squinting his eyes as he tried to beckon the bullmastiff out. "Give me the fuckin' decoration, yeah?"

With a small giggle, Evelyn placed her book down on the cushion beside her; reaching over the couch to grab the red bauble out of Cyril's mouth – the dog immediately dropping it into her palm.

"Of course you give it to yer' mother," Alfie grunted, the corners of his mouth tilting upward when Evelyn gave him the decoration – a fondness growing in Evelyn's heart at his words. 

"Who was the one who rescued you from the fuckin' fightin' ring?" Alfie continued to grumble to the dog who had crept out from behind the couch and was sitting by his feet as Alfie decorated the tree in front of him. "Me. I fucking rescued yer', right, and this is how yer' repay the man who should be a God in yer' eyes, innit?"

A loud giggle burst out of Evelyn's mouth before she could stop it, watching as Alfie turned towards her with his hands on his hips; a teasing grin on his face.

"That goes for you too," he pointed a finger towards Evelyn who let out a sarcastic hum. "Here I am allowing you, as my girl, to have a fuckin' Christmas tree of all things in our living room, sacrificing my perfectly good rug-"

"It's an ugly rug," Evelyn cut in, standing up to walk over to her boyfriend. 

Alfie shook his head, pulling the girl into his arms before resting his forehead on hers. Evelyn's eyes instinctively shut at the feeling of him so close, her next words coming out as a mere whisper that Alfie would've missed if he didn't pay such close attention to her.

"I'll never get tired of hearing you call me your girl."

"Well, that's what yer' are," Alfie chuckled, finally pressing his lips to hers in a compassionate kiss. If someone told Alfie that in his future he would be decorating a Christmas tree for his girlfriend as well as teaching her about Jewish Hanukkah traditions – he would have laughed straight in their face. But here he was, loving every moment of it.

"How are the nightmares?" Alfie questioned, brushing Evelyn's curls behind her ears.

"Haven't come since you started letting Cyril sleep at the foot of the bed," Evelyn teased causing Alfie to let out a snort. "They're getting better. I don't see him anymore."

The nightmares had only been part of the recovery for Evelyn. For months after her release, Evelyn would see the guard who crept into her cell each night to torture her. Evelyn's screams would wake her each time as Alfie was right beside her to coax her through them. It was something he did without question, knowing just how hard it was to suffer through the monsters who would appear in dreams – unable to escape them. 

It had been almost a complete year since Evelyn and her family were released from prison, and she hadn't seen them since. The memories still as clear as day in her mind; she could remember the utter despair she felt as she and Polly walked through the halls of the prison before it turned into relief when the crisp Birmingham air pricked at her skin.

She recalls the way solace washed over her as she found Alfie waiting outside for her – Tommy stood by his side, his head bowed in regret when he saw how sickly his aunt and sister looked. She remembers running straight into Alfie's awaiting arms, never wanting to let go and she definitely remembers the fight that ensued between herself and her older brother.