The Sharpest Jewel | Alfie Solomons |

~Chapter 29~

Camden, London, 1922.

The air in Camden Town was dense with the mingled scents of coal smoke and fresh-baked bread. The group made their way through winding streets until the towering façade of an old bakery warehouse came into view. The building loomed over the narrow lane, its brickwork darkened with years of soot and flour dust. The windows were high and barred, the only light coming from the occasional crack where a beam of sunlight pierced through. Arthur's steps were steady as he led Florence inside. Lara stayed close by her side, her ears pricked at the new sounds and smells. Inside, the warehouse was cavernous, the ceiling soaring above them with wooden beams that creaked in the wind. Long tables were lined up in rows, remnants of the workers' shifts scattered about—worn aprons, flour-coated brushes, and sacks stacked high against the walls.

Florence's eyes darted around the space, taking in the unfamiliar faces that watched them enter. Men in rough suits, their expressions hard and calculating, leaned against the tables or stood in small groups, their murmurs fading as Arthur strode in. There was an air of expectancy, a charged silence that buzzed just beneath the surface.

"Right then," Arthur's voice rang out, cutting through the muted noise. He scanned the room, his jaw clenched as if daring anyone to question his presence. Florence felt her pulse quicken, the stares weighing on her, but she kept her expression neutral, hands clasped tightly around her small notepad and pencil. A man emerged from the back of the warehouse, wiping flour-dusted hands on his apron. He was tall, with a thick neck and eyes that darted between Arthur and Florence, assessing.

As the man stepped forward, Florence's composure faltered for just a moment. Recognition struck like a bolt, sending a chill through her. Ollie. The name echoed in her mind, dredging up memories she had worked so hard to bury. The sunlight street of Camden when everything was simple as children, the quick paced and peaceful life of her youth. Ollie had been part of that life, a figure from a past she'd thought was buried forever beneath the weight of loss and the chaos of war. Her stomach dropped, a cold weight settling there as the room seemed to narrow. She focused on her breathing, gripping the pencil so tightly her knuckles turned white. She couldn't afford to show weakness, not here, not now. But inside, her thoughts churned, and she could almost hear the rattling echoes of the past—voices of friends, shouts from scuffles, the distant sounds of children playing in the streets before the world turned upside down.

Ollie's eyes flickered with a hint of recognition as they settled on her, narrowing slightly. For a brief, disorienting moment, she felt like a child again, standing in the shadow of that crumbling brick building they used to call home, listening to the laughter and the banter as Ollie and her walked to school. He had always been a bit wild, brimming with energy and a devil-may-care attitude, his laughter infectious. They had shared secrets under the cover of darkness, dreams of escape, of leaving Camden behind for something better, something grand. But that was before the war. Before everything changed.

As he approached, her heart raced, anticipation coiling tightly in her chest. But Ollie didn't greet her; he turned away, pretending not to recognize her, as if their shared past was a mere figment of her imagination. Florence felt her breath hitch, confusion clouding her thoughts. How could he act as though he didn't know her? She had assumed that the bond forged in childhood, however long ago, would survive the trials they both endured. Instead, Ollie's gaze shifted to the room, meeting Arthur's with a careful neutrality that made her stomach twist.

The moment felt stretched thin, charged with unspoken words and missed connections. Florence's heart sank. She wanted to call out to him. But the weight of his silence wrapped around her like a heavy shroud, smothering her courage. He had been part of her childhood, a friend who knew her well, yet here he stood, a stranger among the chaos of business and the harsh realities of their new lives.