The Camden Tales

25 - There Is Nothing

-=₪ June 1924 ₪=-

Home / 150 Camden Street / 8.26am

The thick and heavy drapes were pulled across the floor to ceiling windows of the drawing room. The sounds of the dark room consisted of the ticking clock on the mantle and the light snoring of two men.

Ishmael was asleep in the armchair next to the telephone. He was slouched, arms hanging either side and feet resting on a pile of Malka's medical journals.

Alfie was laying on the chaise longue which was far too small for him to lay on properly. His top half slept uncomfortably with a bent back and neck, and as was usual when he napped, he'd pulled his hat over his eyes and crossed his arms. Alfie's bottom half hung off the sofa, his legs supported by more of Malka's books.

Suddenly, the loud brass bells inside the telephone started to ring, waking both men with a start. Ishmael instantly answered.

"Mr Solomons speaking."

Alfie slowly sat up, placing his hat back on top of his head and groaning with his new found back and neck pain.

"Thank you! Yes, there will be." Ishmael said down the telephone relieved, "her brother and husband. Thank--" Ishmael looked at the receiver blankly for a moment and then hung up.

"They are releasing her at ten o'clock!" Ishmael shared with happy surprise.

Alfie nodded, "Did they say anything else?"

"No, just wanted to confirm that someone would be there to pick her up."

Alfie cleared his throat and checked his watch, it read to be cautious.

"I want you to stay with her today, boy, just while I attend to business." Alfie mumbled with a quick sniff, "They'll send someone to meet me."

He tucked his watch back into his waistcoat pocket and picked up his pipe. Ishmael watched while Alfie filled and pack the pipe, coughing and groaning as he lit and began to puff on it. After a few puffs, he rang his servant bell.

"You don't seem that happy. Thought you'd crack a smile at least?" stated Ishmael, mildly agitated by Alfie's seeming indifference to the miraculous news.

Alfie's eyes flicked to Ishmael and then traced to Edna as she entered the room.

"Water, please, Edna, and whatever Ishmael wants." Alfie requested.

Ishmael waved dismissively to Edna, shaking his head. She curtsied and left.

"Yesterday, was it absolutely necessary to risk Malka for jewels?" asked Ishmael with annoyance.

It had been playing on Ishmael's mind how Alfie had conducted the business and now, didn't seem at all bothered that Malka was actually being released. Even with the death sentence looming over her, Alfie had been all business.

"Is that how you see it?" Alfie asked staring at the fireplace and puffing on his pipe.

"It's what I saw!" snapped Ishmael.

"Right. Well, I want my wife and the cash and I want a treaty to fail! I want it all, son." Alfie nodded, "Don't you worry about her, she knows the game and knows it well and better yet, she knows what she married."

Ishmael scoffed, shaking his head.

"Fuck's sake. And you will no doubt attend to business instead of welcoming her home? Don't you want to see her? Or care at all!?" Ishmael asked with ramping frustration.

Alfie lowered his pipe and closed his eyes.

"Please, stop Ish." he asked politely.

"Explain it to me then." asked Ishmael, moving to sit in Malka's chair and all ears for his adoptive father's explanations.