Lambkin

1. Mister No Green

Dear new reader,

Before we start, I'd like to address a short message.
I am concerned by the decreasing numbers of views between the firsts chapters and the second half of this book. It would be really helpful for me to have feedbacks on the reasons why some people don't engage in this story enough to read it entirely.
So if you are among those, I will be awfully grateful if you took a moment to leave a comment and tell what didn't worked for you.
Of course, you are welcome to give feedback if you've reached the end as well!
Thank you for your interest and I wish you the most pleasant reading!

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The door chimes, a sound I have become all too acquainted to for the last five years. I put down the iron, wipe my face with my handkerchief and glance at the clock. Half past six, it must be Ollie. My dear cousin is like clockwork.

I pick up the carefully packed clothes from the shelf, carry it to the counter as I greet him. Ollie comes every over day, although it's not his clothes I'm holding. He looks particularly wary today, edgy even. It's not unusual per say, what with his line of work, but there's something in his eyes that sets me off.

"Everything all right, Ollie?"

He chews on his lips, hands clasped tightly on the bag he's carrying. I push the clean clothes over the counter and held out my hand to grab the new batch but Ollie stands still.

"Please," he says, "don't be mad at me..."

I purse my lips. What now? Since my cousin refuses to move, I walk around the counter and take the bag from his hands. The shirt inside is stained with blood. I sigh. I'm gonna have to put it on icy water and rub it for maybe twenty minutes to clean this mess.

"What has he been up to this time," I grumble. "Is this what's bugging you?"

"No. I... Look I tried to talk him out of it but he wouldn't- I had no choice, he knows we are family- You know I can't lie to him."

"Ollie, just spill it out will you!"

"You are invited to tomorrow's race," Ollie blurts out.

I frown, not understanding what he means. A honk blares from the street, he flinches, looks behind his shoulder then back at me.

"Do you have something nice to wear," he asks.

"Ollie, what are you talking about? What race? Who's inviting me?"

I fear I already know the answer to that last question though. Ollie takes a deep breath.

"Alfie needs an... escort for tomorrow's race. He wants you to accompany him."

"Do I look like a prostitute?" I scoff.

"It's not like that. Well, I don't think so."

"You don't think so," I repeat, bemused.

"He won't hurt you I mean."

"Fuck that, I'm not going," I spit. "I'm sure there's plenty of whores in Camden Town who would gladly oblige to his request."

"He wants someone he can trust," explains Ollie.

"Just because I clean his dirty shirts doesn't mean-"

"Please! I had no choice."

I inhale sharply, ready to spit more venom at him but I notice the fear in his eyes. Now I know very little about Alfie Solomons' business, apart from the fact that the bakery he owns is just a front and that he's a bookkeeper, but I know my cousin is usually very protective toward me. He's been since both our fathers failed to return from France. This is serious then.