The Camden Tales

3 - Precipice

-=₪ January 1922 ₪=-

Home / 150 Camden Street / 5.47pm

Malka walked hurriedly to the house.

The Solomons' house was a tall townhouse that loomed over Camden Gardens, which made up nicely for the lack of front garden. It had a wrought iron fence leading a short way to the black and gold painted door. It was certainly a grand house with its four floors and basement.

The basement was long and housed the kitchen, scullery, and some servant quarters, amongst other things. The ground floor had a spacious lobby, a modest library and a large dining room at the rear which had double glass doors which opened onto the narrow but long garden.

The grand curving stairs in the lobby led to the first floor, which had a receiving room nestled between the drawing room at the front, and the boudoir at the back.

The next sweeping staircase could be accessed further along the landing, which ascended to the main bedrooms. The front bedroom was the master bedroom and the room where Alfie slept. At the opposite end of the landing was the guest room where Malka had been sleeping for so many months now, she had lost count.

The two rooms were joined by a good-sized bathroom, which was gratefully plumbed in. It had a flushable toilet and cold running water at the sink. However, the bathtub was still free standing and in need of modernisation, as was the gas lamp system throughout the house.

The top floor was home to a couple of nurseries at the front, which had never been used. One had been converted to a more traditional room for Ollie. The rear had additional servant quarters.

The Solomons didn't employ as many staff as the house could hold. It had proven problematic during times of warfare with the Italians over the years, but they also weren't particularly fussy people so found the reduction an easy adjustment. They did have Edna their live-in housekeeper, who had been in their employ for some time, they also had a part-time chef, Abraham.

Everyone called him Abe, except Alfie, who called him Narky, due to the chef's ill temper and rudeness. Malka was sure that Abe was only like that around Alfie because he called him Narky, and not because Abe actually was, to use Alfie's word, "narky".

The sheer size of the house mixed with the extreme lack of people rattling around in it meant that returning home and looking for someone in a hurry, always proved challenging. Which was the problem Malka was now faced with as she threw her keys onto the nearby Victorian console table. It was a burr oak piece with carved scrolled legs and inlay banding around the edge which Malka loved. She tended to pick the furniture for the house.

"Alfie!?" she called at the bottom of the stairs.

Her voice echoed as she strained to hear for any sounds of reply or movement within the house. But there was nothing but silence.

She took off her black fedora hat and tossed it by the keys, almost knocking over an empty crystal vase. Edna usually filled it with freshly cut flowers, but those days seemed long gone after six months of war with Sibini and an increasingly suffering financial crisis.

"ALFIE!" Malka shouted angrily, her voice booming and bouncing around the walls, "Where the fuck is he?" she mumbled under her breath while fighting to get her coat off.

Edna then appeared through a doorway from under the stairs. She had come from the basement to help Malka with whatever was required, which apparently was the removal of her coat.

"Oh, thank you." said Malka, relieved to be free of the long black wool coat, "Has Alfie been home? Have you seen him?"

"No milady." Edna replied.