The Camden Tales

63 - An Unexpected Visitor

-=₪ July 1908 ₪=-

Queen's Gambit Hideaway / Camden / 1.06pm

"Who is that?" Malka inquired as she stepped into the hideaway, her attention immediately drawn to a new face seated across from George in the office.

He seemed younger than the others yet still exuded a comfortable aura in George's presence. His laid-back demeanour - crossed legs, arm draped over the back of his chair, and easy laughter - somehow irked her.

"That's Freddie," Barry said, joining her in watching the two men laugh through the glass. "Just got out the slammer yesterday."

Just then, George's eyes met Malka's through the office window, and his jovial expression faded. Freddie's attention followed suit. Malka tried to maintain her view of Freddie as George left the office, but her mentor deliberately blocked her line of sight.

"I didn't call for you, flower. Leave," George commanded, motioning her towards the exit.

"Why?" she asked indignantly. George had never dismissed her this way before.

"Come on, I ain't that bad. You should introduce me to the little daffodil," Freddie said, emerging with a smirk.

Retreating slightly, a wave of unease washed over Malka. The sight of the three men surrounding her triggered a sense of panic she hadn't felt in a long time. She glared at Freddie, then glanced to George, who, if she didn't know any better, looked uneasy himself.

"Why are you here?" he asked tersely.

"Can we speak privately?" Malka implored, only to be met with Freddie's scoff.

"No. Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of him," George stated sternly.

Freddie shot a piercing glare at Barry, who quickly retreated, and Malka observed as his intimidating presence made Barry withdraw. Catching her gaze, Freddie then offered a thin smile. The young but formidable-looking man stood confidently with hands tucked into his pockets, clearly intrigued by what she had to say.

"Umm, I came to tell you," she began, focusing on George. "I met my contact. I believe he will do as I request."

"Contact? What requests? Ya got her doin' deals 'n' running jobs for ya?" Freddie asked George, plainly displeased, "Was that part of the plan 'n' all?" he probed.

"Plan? What plan?" Malka interjected.

Without a word, George turned to Malka sharply, took her arm and led her gently but firmly to the door, intent on ushering her without causing harm. "I have business to attend to that doesn't involve you, alright? I'll call for you when I do."

"George!" she protested as they emerged onto the street.

"I'm up to no good, flower," he said, planting a soft kiss on her forehead before disappearing back into the Queen's Gambit.

-●=»>◆<«=●-

Alfie's Home / Camden / 7.35pm

Beside an empty beer bottle, a half-eaten steak and kidney pie lingered on the table, and Alfie's cane leaned against a chair next to where he'd previously sat. Dinner now dispensed with, he was reclined on his bed, fully dressed and staring at the marks on the ceiling above.

Clutched in his left hand was his dessert: a lush, ripe peach. His attention drifted from the ceiling, drawn to the fruit's alluring shape. As he caressed its velvety surface with his thumb, he lifted it to his nose and inhaled deeply. The scent evoked memories, causing his heart to quicken. Thoughts of her from long ago and her white lacy knickers, surged, causing a noticeable tension in his trousers.