The Camden Tales

66 - I Don't Know

-=₪ July 1908 ₪=-

Alfie's / Camden / 11.34pm

Still enveloped by the lingering scent and memory of Malka, Alfie was eager to return home. However, as he approached his door, a large and imposing figure loomed. It was none other than Mr Chandler.

"You're a day early," Alfie remarked, extracting his key, "I don't have the money yet."

"It's terribly late, Mr Solomons. Been out playing, have we?" Mr Chandler grinned.

"No rest for the wicked," said Alfie, opening the door and gesturing for Chandler to enter.

"Precisely why I'm here, as a matter of fact," said Chandler, stepping in.

"Drink?" offered Alfie.

"No, I'm not staying. I'm here to let you know that a jewellery store in Clerkenwell will be hit tomorrow night."

"Clerkenwell? That's Italian territory."

Chandler waved him off dismissively, "Your concern isn't about territories. Your concern is Sage wants you in on this."

"Me? What for?"

"Simple lookout duty, nothing more. Just keep your eyes open, your mouth shut, ensure our boys are safe, and there'll be a tidy sum in it for you."

"What did Sibini do?"

Chandler's patience seemed to wane, "Sage doesn't appreciate nosiness," he said tersely, gripping the door handle. "Be at the Rising Sun, midnight tomorrow," he instructed. With a tip of his hat, he departed, leaving Alfie with a sense of unease.

-●=»>◆<«=●-

Market / Somers Town / 6.46am

The morning sun hung low, casting a soft glow on the market as stall owners busily prepared for the usual Saturday rush.

Alfie, holding his watch, glanced first at Moey, who was setting up the card table. His gaze then drifted to where he anticipated Malka's arrival. There was no sign of her yet, but according to his watch, it was still early. He tapped his cane on the cobblestones, looked over to see Daniel and Harry casually chatting, then back to where he expected Malka. Check watch, tap cane, look around - a repetitive cycle that betrayed his impatience.

"Ya need to relax, mate," said Frank, sauntering over and clapping Alfie on the back, "She'll show. I know 'cause I saw the way she looked at ya."

"Can you keep an eye on things while I go collect her? I wanna make sure she is alright?"

"She is, Alfie."

"Ya don't know that," Alfie responded, snapping his watch closed and pocketing it.

Frank smirked, "Actually, I do," and gestured over Alfie's shoulder by a nod of his head before slipping away.

Alfie turned to find Malka approaching, wearing a straight-cut black dress with a large handbag slung across her. A smile as broad as the sky and as bright as the morning sun spread across his face.

"Good morning, Alfie," she greeted.

"Yeah, it is," Alfie replied, his pulse quickening.

She paused just a breath away, close enough for him to hope but not to assume. Slowly, her hand reached out and touched the cane. Her fingers played over the smooth wood, her thumb caressing his hand. She inched closer until the scent of her hair enveloped him.