Promises Not Kept

55

            "Tommy, mate, you've got to get a fucking grip." Alfie and Tommy took the walk down out to the pier. It was a bit away from where they'd shot each other on the beach.

Alfie let the man take a few deep breaths of the salt air before he began. With a grunt, he sat down on one of the low dock posts.

Tommy remained standing, his hands in his coat pockets, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

"I mean, honestly, when Leah called me I thought you'd been shot. Or someone had died. She were hysterical, mate. Said you'd lost your fucking mind because your family had come for Christmas. Now, what's that about, aye?" Alfie clasped his hands together between his knees.

"There's a black cat in my family." Tommy replied, not addressing any of his actions that Christmas day. It was embarrassing enough to know that his wife was so distraught and in such a state that she phoned Alfie Solomons.

"Right, now I've no fucking clue what that means." Not the man to speak in riddles like the Shelbys, he skirted around the ominous remark. "I've enough common sense to know you're referring to a traitor. That right?" The slight nod was enough of an indicator that Alfie was on the right track. "So, you've got your knickers in a twist because of one traitor? 'Tween you and me, we both fucking know how many men we've gutted for being traitors. Now either you really have lost your bloody mind or you're using it as a fucking excuse."

Tommy wasn't sure what he was expecting from the chat with Alfie. What did anyone ever expect from the man? Even still, he was wise to use the tactic he'd used for years in regard to their interactions. He let the Camden Town gangster run his mouth until everything was said. He could handle the pokes and jabs Alfie made at him, that wasn't an issue. If anything, he felt mildly comforted. As if things had gone back to a simpler time. Back to when they would meet in Alfie's bakery. They would negotiate business, perhaps Alfie would pull a gun or dish out a few colorful threats. And yet both knew that they weren't in any real danger. Because they had an understanding with each other. One that was unspoken. It's why they weren't enemies.

"Lookit you, Tom, have you even fucking realized that the world has kept on spinning? You're out there doing the same shit you've always done, 'cept now you've got a fancy new office at the Commons. What's that brought you then? Just a nasty mess, innit? Now your family's involved."

"They were involved from the beginning."

"No, no, not that family." He waved a dismissive hand at the rest of the Shelby family. "Your family. Your wife and kids."

There was a break in Alfie's rambling. Enough for Tommy to listen to the waves crashing against the pier. Steady, rhythmic churning that felt a lot like the state of his brain at the current moment. Anxieties and anger kept sweeping in. Unrelenting waves of stress and the unbearable feeling of being caged in.

Alfie let out a low chuckle of pity and shook his head. "We're men of habit, Tommy, ain't we? Don't fucking learn, right, from our mistakes 'til it really does some fucking damage." He subconsciously rubbed a hand over the mangled part of his face. "Think 'bout it. All of us going off, yeah to that fucking War, seeing the shit we did, then they fucking expected us to just come back. Some men did, can't fucking understand it. They must've been able to shut off that part of their brain or sumthin'." He shrugged. "We saw blood over there, didn't we? Then we came back and didn't see none. And that didn't feel right, did it? So, we made the streets into a warzone. That felt right."

Tommy watched the crests of the waves as they glistened in the dim sunlight. The clouds had made it a gray afternoon and the sky seemed at odds with the dark angry sea.