Alfie couldn't stop looking at his new wife during the simple, and somewhat awkward, dinner they were forced to sit through. The Shelbys sat on one side of the room and the Jews on the other, while the newlyweds sat between them all, both looking as though they wished they could be anywhere else. Occasionally, one of the Shelbys would say something to bring a smile to Niamh's face but it wasn't genuine; it was forced and it never quite reached her eyes, and Alfie found himself wishing he could see how a real smile of hers would look.

His men hadn't been lying when they had been gushing over looks because she was absolutely fucking stunning. But not in the way most girls were. Her cheekbones were well defined, and perhaps on someone with a less rounded face they might have looked harsh, and her eyes were deep set and framed with the longest lashes he had ever seen. Her upper lip was perfectly shaped but the bottom one looked to be almost slightly turned down although it didn't make her look miserable, merely perhaps serious. The colour of her eyes was the colour of the sky on a sunny day in Margate and he realised that a lesser man could be in danger of losing himself in them.

Alfie found himself wanting to talk to her; to ask her about herself but she stared down at her plate of roasted pheasant as though she was waiting to find all of the answers to the universe there and so he didn't disturb her. Besides, her family were watching the pair of them like fucking hawks and even though he was good at pretending not to give a fuck, the truth was that it actually awkward as hell. Ah well, there would be plenty of time for talking later when they were alone, and as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat Alfie realised he wanted more than just talking. Fucking hell... what was wrong with him? He never felt like this about a woman, especially not one he had just met. Probably some sort of fucking gypsy magic. And then it hit him. She was new and she was pretty. Alfie liked new toys but he soon got fed up with them and cast them aside. Give it a few days and the novelty of her would wear off and he could go on as he had initially planned; with cool disinterest. He couldn't deny though that a part of him considered playing the old marriage consummation card so he could have his wicked way with her and get her out of his system quicker, but for some reason he just knew he couldn't do it. She was a fucking Shelby for crying out loud, yet she didn't seem like the rest of them.

After dinner, the Shelbys blessedly decided that there was no need to stretch the reception out for any longer than had been truly necessary and they began to retire to their rooms one by one. Out of convenience, everyone would be staying for the night and leaving after breakfast in the morning. If Alfie had his way, he would have left the second the vows were done but his men had been allowed a couple of drinks in honour of the celebration and a few of them had arranged for some female company for the night. Besides, even though Niamh was now legally his property, he didn't doubt that the Shelbys would have had something to say about him dragging her off to her new home before they had the chance to properly say their goodbyes.

Eventually, the horribly gaudy, posh dining room was empty aside from the two newlyweds and the tension in the air crackled awkwardly.

"I aint much for wine as a rule but this one aint too terrible to be fair," Alfie muttered finally in an attempt to make some sort of conversation.

Niamh looked up in surprise when she realised he was talking to her and then felt immediately stupid. Of course he was talking to her given that they were the only two people left in the room.

"It's alright," she shrugged, taking a small sip and setting it down with a thinly concealed grimace.

"Yeah, on second thoughts it tastes like crap if I'm bein' honest. These rich folk don't have much taste, do they?"

A hint of a smile played at Niamh's lips as Alfie blatantly mocked the very person who had hosted this wedding dinner for them- at no expense to either party- and she realised that she quite liked the way he spoke. He was gruff yet there was an almost animated lilt to his voice that was intriguing.

"I'm not much for drinking, to be honest," she said.

"Me neither really."

Silence fell once more and the two newlyweds looked away from each other once more. Alfie wracked his brains desperately, trying to think of anything to say. He had never been at a loss for words before and the knowledge that his mouth was struggling to form even a simple sentence was unnerving.

Just as he finally managed to coerce his brain into working, he went to open his mouth and make some nonsensical comment about the depressing painting of a crying nymph on the opposite wall, the girl in front of him turned in her seat to fix him with a stare so piercing that it took him aback momentarily.

"May I ask you a question, Mr Solomons?"

He nodded without hesitation. Christ, in that moment she could have asked him for a million pounds and he would have done the same thing. The make up she wore had faded during the evening, and he was able to see more of her freckles than before; lots of them dotted across the bridge of her nose and across her cheeks. There was something very innocent and endearing about them and he could feel his trousers tightening a little.

"Why did you agree to this? This marriage, I mean?"

"Well," Alfie cleared his throat and pulled at the collar of his shirt. "It made good business sense, didn't it?"

"And you don't feel awkward marrying into a family where you had one of your own now brothers in law framed for murder and arrested?"

"No," he answered without looking away from her. He was unflinching. "'Cause I done them things out of necessity, didn't I? They were necessary things for me to keep the upper hand on your brother and your family, and I aint sorry I did them. Aint in my nature to have regrets, and your brother's back safe and sound with his family so there was no harm done, was there?"

"No harm done?" Niamh scoffed. "It could have been an entirely different story, no thanks to you."

"Well it weren't, were it?" Alfie scowled. "An' no offence right love, but just 'cause we're married now don't mean you can start givin' me an earful about things what are in the past 'cause I couldn't give a shit what you think if I'm bein' honest. I don't expect a little girl like you to understand what happens in a man's world."

"You're an arrogant pig," Niamh sneered, and then she did something that completely surprised Alfie. If she'd have pulled out a gun and pointed it at his face he would have been less shocked, but as it went she just smiled. A wide, beaming smile that literally could have made angels sing and the little cherubs fly right off the ceiling where they were painted on.

"I aint never had no one call me a pig and then smile about it at the same time," Alfie commented, unable to hold back a smile himself. "It's rather unnervin' I must say."

"Alfie Solomons unnerved by a woman?" Niamh teased. "I don't think I believe that for a minute."

"Why did you agree to this marriage then?" Alfie asked, completely changing the subject and if Niamh was bothered, she didn't let on.

"Same reason as you, I suppose," she shrugged. "Made good business sense for the family."

"And you didn't feel awkward about marryin' the man what had one of your brothers arrested for a murder he didn't commit?" his eyes twinkled playfully as he used her own words against her.

"No," she shook her head. "Because I knew that if I didn't marry you, I would regret it. You want to know why? Because I love my family, Mr Solomons and I would do anything to help them including marrying a man who has double crossed them more times than a whore's washed her fanny."

Alfie burst out into a guffaw of laughter that was almost a choke. Niamh eyed him with a hint of a grin and he realised that he might have just bitten off more than he could chew with this one. She was a fucking Shelby alright and just like the rest of her family, there was more to Niamh Shelby than met the eye. Only she wasn't a Shelby any more, was she? And he wondered just what being married to her was going to entail because clearly whatever he had thought was a gross underestimation if this conversation was anything to go by.

"Will it not be a problem for people in your community that I'm not Jewish?" she asked.

"I aint bothered that you aint Jewish so don't really matter what anyone else thinks," he answered sort of truthfully.

There would undoubtedly be some in the local community who were going to have a hissy fit about him having married a gentile but they would get over it eventually; especially once they realised his marriage wasn't going to affect all of the monetary aid he provided to his own kind.

"But you do follow Judaism, do you not?"

"Where I can," he smirked. "And where it suits me, I s'pose. What about you? You believe in all that daft nonsense the rest of your kind does? You know magic and all that?"

"Well," Niamh frowned as if in deep thought. "When I go out dancing under the full moon naked people do usually call the police or throw things at me, so now I keep my devil worshipping and spell doing as an indoor event."

Alfie's face fell with thinly concealed horror and Niamh managed to hold her straight face for only a moment or two before she burst out laughing.

"I'm joking," she chuckled. "Sometimes I go to church with my aunt Pol but I'm not sure I really believe in God. Not sure I believe in anything apart from omens and dreams. I definitely believe in those."

"Omens and dreams I reckon I could tolerate," Alfie smirked.

"And what do you expect from this marriage, Mr Solomons?" Niamh changed the subject slightly. "After all, it's a lifetime commitment so surely you must have thought about it a little?"

"I aint really thought about it," he answered. And that was God's honest truth. He hadn't thought anything about it because he hadn't actually expected to find himself wanting to get to know his new wife. He had figured that she would live with him in Camden and pretty much go about her own life while he went about his.

"Well I've thought about what I want," she said in a tone that was confident but not arrogant in the slightest.

"Go on then," he nodded. "I'm interested to hear what you've gotta say."

"Ok," Niamh took a deep breath. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life being married to someone who I can't at least try and get along amicably with. My dad was a right bastard and treated my mum like the dirt beneath his shoe, and I don't want that. If you try to hit me, I'll hit you back; if you shout at me, I'll shout back, but I'd prefer for you to just leave me alone if it comes to the point where you dislike being around me that much. I know that my family and you haven't really gotten along that well, and perhaps that won't change just because we're now related but we can at least try. And even if it doesn't work out with the rest of them, then I think at least you and I should try and get along? After all, we're the ones who will be in the marriage forever, won't we? So what I'm trying to say in a long winded way is that can we at least try to be friends in some shape or form?"

"I reckon we can manage that," Alfie nodded, scratching at his beard.

"Ok then," Niamh smiled with relief. She spat on her palm and held it out to Alfie. "It's a deal."

Alfie eyed her outstretched hand with a frown before breaking into a grin. You could give a girl the Solomons name but it turns out that she won't be rid of her Shelby traits so easily, and strangely enough Alfie found he was quite alright about that.