Alfie Solomons Imagines

A Broken Bottle of Whisky

"Fuck." Tommy is going to kill me. I stand looking at the broken bottle of whisky on the tiles. Shards of glass scattered everywhere and a puddle of whisky seeping into the cracks and ridges of the kitchen floor.

"Fuck indeed." I turn around in shock as I face the intruder that stands in the doorway to the kitchen. His tall stature blocking the frame. "Tommy will not be happy."

I step back as he moves into the room.

"Who, who the fuck are you?" I stammer out. So much for being a Shelby eh, Y/N?

"Me?" He points to himself and then turns to look over his shoulder. At least he has a sense of humour. "The name's Alfred Solomons. But you can call me Alfie. You, yeah? You must be Y/N."

I nod my head slowly. "Now, let's get this mess tidied up before your brothers find out shall we?"

A cleaned up broken bottle of whisky and two cups of tea later, myself and Alfie are sat at the kitchen table as if he's not a London gangster come to make a deal with my brothers.

"Twenty-one?" He scoffs, shakes his head and then smiles at me. "You darling, you are not twenty-one."

I nod, I take my cup away from my lips and smile.

"I promise you, Mr Solomons. I am twenty-one years of age. Not one year more, not one year less."

"Well shit!" Concern etches onto my face. "Here I thought, I could take a pretty. No, beautiful, young lady out to dinner. But no." He grips his hands onto the edge of the wooden table. His rings scraping against the surface.

"Well why not?" I'm more upset than concerned now. "Why can't you take me to dinner Alfie?"

"Because I'm too fucking old for you that's why. You couldn't possibly want an old man like me." He stands to leave, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. "I'll have someone bring by a new bottle of whisky, so your brothers won't notice, alright?"

Tears well in my eyes as I look at him.

"Alfie." He doesn't turn. "Alfie, look at me for fuck's sake."

He turns to look at me, holding onto the back of the table chair as he does.

"What does it matter that I'm twenty-one? No, I'm speaking." I hold my finger up as he opens his mouth to interrupt. "Yes, there may be a difference of ten years, give or take, but that doesn't matter. I'm of age. I don't see the problem with you taking me on a date Mr Solomons."

I move closer to him, so that we're mere inches apart.

"Alright." He huffs. "If that's what you want." I nod. "Just what will your brothers think of you being seen in public their associate from London, hmm."

"Fuck my brothers, Alfie. I don't care what they think."

I stand on my toes and lean in towards Alfie's lips, he lowers his towards mine. Millimetres are between us and I can feel his breath on my face. Our lips touch and instantly I can tell he tastes of rum and cigars.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Arthur yells.

"Run." I exclaim as I push Alfie away from my brothers stood in the doorway to the backdoor.