The Camden Tales

39 - Small Fucks Big

-=₪ February 1926 ₪=-

A.B.C / Bonny Street / 4.18am

"Alfie?" called Malka lightly as she walked down the concrete steps into the bakery.

She had awoken in their bed alone, once again, and found Alfie wasn't in the drawing room, at his desk in the receiving area, or with Ishmael, Louis and Alfred who were sharing the guest bedroom for the night. His hat and coat were gone, and it occurred to her that he might have opened up the bakery one last time to say farewell.

The door had indeed been unlocked and the lights were on. It was deathly quiet as she looked to her left and saw Alfie leaning against a pillar staring down the long walkway towards the canal entrance. He had removed his coat, but his hat remained as he stood with hands in pockets.

"Remember when we got this place?" he asked without turning.

"Of course I do." Malka replied walking over to join him.

"Possibly my favourite spoil of war." he mused.

"I hope that isn't including me?"

"Is that what you are?" he asked looking to his wife, "A spoil of war?"

She threw him a vague and uncertain smile. Alfie removed a hand from his pocket and offered it to his wife, who accepted it gladly.

"It's not like we're getting rid of the place, we just... won't be using it anymore." she said as they looked about the rum they hadn't sold, the rusting doors, cobwebbed lights, and the water dripping and splashing in mouldy corners.

Many of the warehouses they owned were having trouble selling. The estate agent had informed that it was unlikely they would be able to sell them, certainly not quickly. Times were changing and the desire for these kinds of buildings was ending. Factories were closing, bigger ports were being built elsewhere, Poplar had reduced in favour, warehouses weren't much needed, the world was moving on and they were done trying to catch up with it. Their best chance was to sell the land to a developer, and even then the land was much more valuable empty than with great big warehouses on, so for now they were holding on to them until they found an offer that suited.

"Can you smell the aromas of secrets and sin?" he asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

He had always loved the bakery and while Malka had mixed feelings about the place, she had always appreciated how much happiness it had brought him.

"I can certainly smell the lie you baked for me." she replied, looking at his profile which had returned to staring down the long corridor.

His smile faded as he licked his lips, waiting for her to share what lie she had uncovered.

"I was laying in the dark knowing that this just wasn't adding up." she stated.

Alfie cleared his throat and shifted his weight. His eyes narrowed, he sniffed and looked back down the tunnel like corridor of his underground bakery.

His nervous shifting confirmed she was right about him hiding stuff, but she was unconvinced she had worked out everything that was happening, but she was gauging a starting to point.

"What gave it away?" he asked.

"The very fact that I know you don't want Tommy dead, you have no desire in seeing him harmed. You respect him too much, he means something to you. There is no way you would give him up that easily when it was not necessary to do so. You have also done it at great risk to yourself, which again, wasn't necessery. This was an orchestration to surreptitiously achieve something."