Alfie Solomons, the crime boss of Camden Town and King of the Jews: estranged from his wife, his empire crumbling and ravaged by war, he makes a deal with the devil, and nothing is the same again.
Covering his years of involvement with the Birmingha...
"Mr Shelby?" inquired Anna timidly as she stepped into the drawing room.
Seated in Malka's favourite armchair, Mr Shelby was engrossed in a William Blake book from her library, while smoking a cigarette. At the sound of Anna's hesitant voice, he lowered the book and turned his attention to the nurse standing cautiously near the doorway.
"Yes, Mrs Solomons?" he responded courteously, trying to alleviate her uneasiness in his presence.
Despite having stayed for a week and engaging in daily conversations with Anna, she remained apprehensive around him. Her anxiety unsettled him, and he found it vexing.
"Anna, please call me Anna," she said, venturing further into the room.
"Only when you start calling me Tommy," he replied.
"Oh no, sir, I couldn't do that. You're a politician an' what not. Ya run the country; I can't just go using ya name all willy nilly like that," she replied hastily.
"I don't run the country," he said with a smile, amused by her demeanour. "What can I do you for?" he asked.
"It's Malka, sir. She still won't let me get anywhere near her. I can't brush her hair or give her that bath ya requested, and she's still too weak to climb into the tub herself. The sides are too high; I'm afraid she'll fall. The only thing she lets me to do is administer her doses. She's quite stubborn, sir. Ya can't make her do anything she don't wanna." explained Anna, now standing in the centre of the room.
With the house cleared of opium stashes and the maids' cleaning efforts completed, only Malka remained. Tommy was eager to improve her hygiene, untangle her unkempt hair, and see her dressed in her daytime clothes once more. He was tired of her constant shivering in her nightwear due to her refusal to close the balcony doors, and though he would never admit it, he missed the pleasant view she once provided. However, Anna, who had been entrusted with helping Malka achieve these tasks, was consistently unsuccessful. Day after day, she reported to Mr Shelby that Malka only permitted her to administer opium doses and fluids. It was evident that Malka needed a firm hand, and Tommy was quickly realising he was the only one in the house capable of providing it.
"Where is she now?" he inquired.
"In bed, sir, dosed up and out of it," Anna replied with a shrug. "She were becoming unbearable," she continued as Tommy nodded and closed his book. "I had to give it to her; it were due, after all," Anna concluded as Tommy walked past her and out of the drawing room.
"Follow me," he ordered.
Tommy had Anna enter the master bedroom first, as he still felt uncomfortable. His gaze wandered over the photographs of Alfie, mainly lingering on his army portrait from when Solomons served in the Royal Artillery before his captaincy. Alfie was clean-shaven and wearing his full uniform, appearing strikingly young. Tommy found the image odd. If he hadn't seen the photographs, he might never have believed that Alfie was ever that young, fresh-faced, and willing to follow orders.
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