The Sharpest Jewel | Alfie Solomons |

~ Chapter 43 ~

Small Heath, Birmingham, 1924.

The next morning, Florence sat at the small kitchen table in the house Alfie had claimed as their temporary base in Small Heath. Sunlight filtered through the grimy window, casting pale streaks across the table where a lukewarm cup of tea sat untouched. She had barely slept after her unsettling dream, but the thought of sitting idle any longer made her stomach churn. She wrapped her coat tightly around her, Today, she was visiting Esme and John. It had been a while since she'd seen them, and Esme, pregnant with their second child, had insisted Florence stop by.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the staircase behind her. Florence didn't have to look back to know it was Alfie. His heavy steps were unmistakable, deliberate as always. "Where you off to, then?" Alfie's voice broke the quiet as he stepped into the kitchen, his sharp eyes immediately landing on her coat and the gloves she was pulling on. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

"Esme's," Florence replied, glancing at him briefly before she turned her attention back to her gloves. "She asked me to come by. Thought it might do me good to get out of here for a bit." Alfie grunted, his gaze narrowing slightly. "Right." He  nodded looking at the woman. "I missed Esme while I was in Camden she was the only one who spoke to me the most while I worked in Birmingham, I often only worked with her." Florence smiled at the memory of the quiet days she spent with Esme.

"What are you doing with your day then?" Florence asked as she stood, brushing down her coat to rid it of any stray dog hairs. "Just more useless business, innit," Alfie muttered, his tone dismissive as his eyes followed her every movement. Florence walked past him, her steps light but purposeful. Yet Alfie's gaze lingered, unable to ignore the distant, haunted look in her eyes. She seemed different lately—like she carried the weight of something he couldn't quite see, something just beyond his reach.

But just as she passed him, she stopped. Pausing, she turned and looked up at him, her head tilted slightly, her expression softening. "Alfie," she said, her voice quieter now, more careful. Her eyes settled on his beard and hair, and he could see the concern etched in her features. "Yeah, I know," he interrupted, waving a hand in her direction as though it were nothing. She didn't move, though, her gaze fixed on him with that same quiet intensity that made his chest tighten. Then, as if compelled by instinct, Florence reached up, her fingers brushing along the rough edges of his beard. Her touch was featherlight, deliberate, and Alfie froze.

"Fucking hell," he muttered, though there was no bite to his tone, only a low rumble that sounded almost like surrender. "Oh, shut up," she said, a hint of playfulness tugging at the corners of her lips. "I'm a trained nurse. I like caring for people." Her fingers moved gently, her eyes scanning his face for the irritation he usually wore like armor, but it wasn't there. Instead, he stood perfectly still, his breath hitching almost imperceptibly as her hand lingered.

"More like fucking worrying" Alfie murmured, his voice softer now. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, searching, her hand still resting against his jaw. "Maybe but I'm your assistant so I have to worry about you," she admitted quietly, and it was like the air between them shifted. Something unspoken passed between them, a moment so subtle and fragile it felt like it might shatter if either of them spoke too loud.

Alfie's hand rose slowly, hesitating for a moment before brushing against her wrist. His touch was rough, warm, and unexpectedly tender as he lowered her hand from his face but didn't let go. "Yeah, well," he said, his voice low and gruff. The words hung there, weighted with meanings neither of them dared unpack just yet. Florence blinked, her lips parting slightly as though to say something, but then she thought better of it. Instead, she simply let out a quiet laugh, the kind that only Alfie could pull out of her, even in the most unexpected moments.