Massive thanks to Anon2014, Idcam and Morrigan95 for their reviews this last week. You keep me going! Let me know what you think of this one - it's a little off the beaten path for Alfie and Rose but I like to shake things up. I'd be interested to know how you feel about it.
As Rose was making her way to the fight venue, Alfie was sat in the changing room talking to Tommy. As always, he welcomed the chance to match wits with the leader of the Peaky Blinders. Tommy's intellect matched his own and Alfie had begrudgingly admired him from the moment he'd met him. He'd also benefitted, of course, from his business deals with Tommy and much preferred him as an ally than an enemy. But he also knew that the Italians were formidable opponents and, despite his fortune-telling glasses, couldn't predict which way this vendetta would go. If the Shelbys were defeated then he would be next - which was all the more reason for him to get out whilst he still could.
But there, in the dressing room, despite his anger at being dismissed from the city the last time he was here, he couldn't resist pointing Tommy in the direction of the only way he could get out of the corner he was in, telling him - in his usual obscure way - that if Luca couldn't be defeated by Tommy, then Tommy needed to look higher up to power ladder. It was reckless to do so, given Alfie's plans to rescue Rose, as he saw it. If Tommy survived this night, then there was nowhere Alfie would be able to hide with Rose where her brother wouldn't find them. Which was why Alfie decided, in a rush of hubris and arrogance, to tell him where he would be – in Margate, by the pier. If Tommy wasn't killed and came for Rose, then Alfie's life wouldn't be worth living any longer anyway and he would prefer to die at Tommy's hand than from a cancer caused by poisonous gasses in the war.
He made his way out of the hall and to his car which was parked in a side street. Danny was in the driver's seat but didn't say anything to him; he could tell he was tense. Alfie leant against the car and fiddled with his cane. It would be a while before the Italians made their move and all he could do was wait and hope that Luca would keep to the deal. If he didn't and anything happened to Rose, then Alfie would spend his life – what was left of it – hunting him down.
After about twenty minutes, Alfie caught some movement in the corner of his eye. He looked over and, for a moment, saw nothing. As he kept looking however, he saw a small familiar figure dart from one shadow to the next alongside the hall. He pushed himself away from the car, suddenly alert and confused. It couldn't be Rose. She was inside the hall, about to experience the fright of her life. But as he continued to look, the figure moved again and, as it moved under a streetlamp, Alfie was no longer in any doubt. He moved quickly over and intercepted her.
Rose jumped violently and froze as Alfie suddenly appeared in front of her. She looked at him in fear for a split second until she realised who it was and then a broad smile appeared on her face.
"Alfie!"
Alfie took her by the arm, looked round and pulled her close to him. He spoke in a quiet voice.
"What are you doing out here?"
She frowned a little at his less-than-friendly greeting. "Trying to find a way in."
It was his turn to frown as he tried to make sense of her answer. "Why? Why are you outside? Did someone bring you out?"
Rose was very confused now. "No, I'm on my own. I wanted to see the fight. And see you."
"Did you follow me out here?"
"No, I've only just arrived."
He stared at her for a few seconds. Rose could see his confusion and tried to explain more.
"Tommy wouldn't let me come to the fight but I came anyway. I'm supposed to be at home."
Everything now made sense to Alfie. He was about to say something when, suddenly, a gunshot rang out from inside the hall. Rose flinched and grabbed Alfie's coat. He put his arm round her and looked at the hall again. Clearly, things had started to go bad inside. Rose looked up at him worried and opened her mouth to speak when another shot rang out. Alfie tightened his grip on Rose and began to pull her to his car. Rose, too shocked to move, allowed herself to be taken to the middle of the road when a third muffled gunshot rang out in the night. This brought her to her senses and she pulled away from Alfie's grasp and ran back towards the hall. Alfie was quick to grab hold of her again and pull her back, gripping both her arms. She pulled against him as hard as she could.
"Let me go, Alfie."
"No, Petal, you need to come with me. It's not safe here."
Still pulling, Rose was desperate now. "Alfie, I have to get inside. I need to be with them. I need to know what's happening."
Alfie kept a firm grip on her, surprised by her sudden strength. "It's not safe, Rose. We don't know what's happening and it will be dangerous for you in there."
Rose was beginning to cry now. "What if they're hurt? We can help, Alfie. If you come with me, you can help."
He shook his head and tugged her to the car. She resisted still but was no match for him. At the car, he nodded at Danny, who was now standing in the street, to open the back door. He did so, but when Rose spotted it, she leaned back with all her strength against Alfie's hold and practically sat on the ground.
"Let me go! I have to find them."
Alfie pulled Rose up and at the same time bent down so that he was at eye level with her. "Petal, whatever's going on in there is too much for us to do anything about. I have to get you somewhere safe."
Rose stopped struggling and gripped Alfie's forearms, her blue eyes wide, staring into his, pleading with him. "Please, Alfie! It's my family."
Alfie sighed as he looked at her. He needed to persuade her to come with him voluntarily. The thought of forcing her made him feel sick.
"Ok, how about this: I send Danny in to see what's going on and then we decide. Yeah?"
Rose's eyes darted back and forth between his and then she nodded. It was a compromise but she needed to know what was going on in that hall. Alfie looked at Danny and indicated with his head for him to go in the building. Then he spoke to him in Yiddish.
"Don't go in, it's dangerous. Come back in five minutes and tell me it's the Italians."
Danny, who knew full well that Alfie had smuggled Luca's men into the hall, nodded. He didn't know about Alfie's plans for Rose and Rose's sudden appearance made it all seem to him like Alfie was indeed spontaneously trying to keep her safe. He hurried off to the hall and disappeared round the back of it.
Rose watched him go and wrung her hands. Every awful image of her family dead or dying flashed across her mind. She was terrified for them Everyone she loved was inside that building and she wanted nothing more than to be with them, no matter what was happening to them. Alfie looked at her and resisted the urge to hug her to himself and comfort her. He understood what she was feeling and a pang of guilt ran through him as he thought of his involvement in whatever was happening inside.
"What did you say to him?"
"Huh?"
"What did you say to Danny in your language?"
"Oh, I just told him to be careful."
She nodded and moved from one foot to the other, impatient for news. Alfie clenched his jaw, aware of the lies he would be telling her from now on. He knew it was for her own good, but it still left a sour taste in his mouth.
It wasn't long before Danny came running back. Rose rushed forward to meet him, Alfie close behind. Danny looked at Alfie and muttered.
"It's the Italians."
Rose gasped. She grabbed Danny's arm.
"What did you see? Is anyone hurt?"
Danny made up something on the spot. "I didn't see much. Just a lot of Italians with guns."
At this, Rose shot off towards the hall. Alfie lunged for her but missed. She had almost reached the door when she felt a strong arm curl round her waist and lift her off the ground. Alfie swung her round and carried her towards the car. He growled at Danny.
"Start the car."
Rose fought as hard as she could against Alfie, kicking her legs and tearing at his arm around her waist. He managed to pin her arms down with his free arm but Rose squirmed and kicked and screamed.
"No! No, Alfie, Put me down! I have to get in there. Put me down!"
She was sobbing now. All she could think about was her family inside that hall, facing their enemies. How could Alfie not understand that she had to be with them, even if it meant she too got hurt, or worse? She didn't care, she couldn't just leave them.
Alfie had reached the car by now and had to work hard to bundle her and himself into the backseat. Her legs kicked out, her head lurching backwards as she arched her back in an attempt to loosen his grip. Eventually, he got her inside, still held tightly in front of him and yelled at Danny to drive. The sudden movement of the car slammed Alfie's door shut and he couldn't help but be reminded of how the same thing had happened when he'd managed to rescue Rose from that horrendous girls' home. That time, though, Rose had clung to him whereas this time she was fighting against him with every fibre of her being.
Rose, aware that they were speeding away from where her family was being ambushed, screamed and cried to Alfie to turn the car around. Alfie held her firmly to himself and spoke close to her ear, trying to be heard above her cries.
"Rose, my Petal, listen to me. Listen to me! Whatever is happening in that hall cannot be stopped now. All you will achieve by going in there is to get hurt yourself."
"I don't care. Take me back! Take me back!"
"I can't do that, sweetheart, you know I can't. What would Tommy want you to do, eh? What would Tommy want? He'd want you safe, wouldn't he? Eh? That's why he wanted you to stay home, isn't it?"
Rose went quiet and struggled a little less and Alfie knew he was getting through to her.
"Tommy would want me to keep you safe, you know he would. That's why I'm not letting you go back. He'd want that, eh, wouldn't he? Let me take care of you until we know what's happened, yeah?"
Rose went still then, all the fight seeping out of her. She knew he was right, that Tommy would want her to be kept safe. That's all Tommy had ever wanted for her. She sat in between Alfie's knees as he held her tightly, put her head in her hands and sobbed. She knew that her family were fighters, but she also knew how deadly the Italians were and she imagined the worst.
Alfie held her as she sobbed, putting his head against hers. He knew that the next few hours would tear her heart into many pieces but he resolved to be there for her and to help her rebuild her life into one that would be better. It would hurt but it was what was best for her, he was convinced of that.
Rose eventually stopped crying, sniffled a few times, then put her head up. She pushed gently against Alfie's arms who released her. She moved to sit on the seat next to him and looked at him earnestly.
"Alfie, take me home."
"What?"
"Take me home to Watery Lane."
"No, sweetheart, we need to get out of the city."
She looked at him alarmed. "What? No! The babies are at home, Billy and Charlie. I can't just leave them. And Karl is across the street. And Fred."
Alfie groaned inwardly. He had absolutely no plans to rescue any more Shelby children and, although he was sad that Rose would have to leave Fred, he shook his head at her request.
"No, it's too dangerous."
"How? The Italians are at the hall. We can get the children and take them somewhere safe."
Alfie was thinking fast now. "Rose, Luca doesn't just want your family. He wants your family's business. And, as much as it hurts me to say this, he also doesn't want any future Shelbys to come back and seek revenge. He'll have sent men to your home and that betting shop at the same time as they went to the hall. Your little escape tonight has probably saved your life. There's no way we can risk going back to Watery Lane."
As he looked at her horrified face, he consoled himself with the fact that this may indeed be true. Although, he didn't really think that Luca would seize the betting shop at the same time as he was ambushing the hall. Still, it was feasible enough for him to think he wasn't misleading her entirely.
Rose processed what he was saying with increasing horror. Ada had said Luca would go after the children so Alfie's story wasn't too difficult to believe. She felt sick. She whispered.
"I should have stayed."
Alfie leaned forward to catch what she'd said. "What's that?"
"I should have stayed at home. I could have protected them. I know where the guns are. I could have protected them. And Maggie…"
Her hand flew to her mouth as she thought about what could be happening at number six. She thought of Charles' little face and of Billy's chubby dimples and his soft, blond curls and sobbed into her hand. It was an unbearable thought.
Alfie put his hand on her arm and spoke gently. "We don't know what's happened yet, do we, eh? Your family never go down without a fight, do they? We'll get you somewhere safe and then I'll find out what happened. Yeah? Be patient, little Petal"
Rose pulled her arm away from Alfie and moved as far into the corner of the seat as she could. She pulled her knees up to her chest, squeezed them to her tightly and then sat perfectly still, turning her head to look out of the window. She threw all her walls up and shut down everything inside her. It was the only way she knew how to cope with the situation she found herself in.
Alfie looked at her, worried. He tried to engage her in conversation, then just talked about anything that came into his head, but eventually he stopped altogether. Rose was unresponsive and all he could hope for was that eventually he would be enough to draw her back. The wrench from her old life would hurt, but it would be better for her in the long run.
They were headed to London initially. Alfie had a few loose ends to tie up before he took Rose to their final destination in Margate. He had hoped that Rose would sleep on the journey to Camden Town but she didn't. She sat unmoving in her corner the entire way there. She felt sick, her head hurt and she was craving a pill or two. It was all she could do to stem the rising panic which threatened to overwhelm her. She took no comfort in being by Alfie's side. There was no comfort to be had anywhere or with anyone whilst her entire family was in mortal danger. The only hope she had was that Tommy had somehow managed to defend himself and the family and had gained the upper hand. She remembered John telling her that Tommy was at his best when he was backed into a corner and so she grasped hold of that thought and clung onto it for dear life. She was waiting for the moment when Alfie would find out the situation in Birmingham and hopefully have good news for her. As the car made its way through the dirty and, even at that time of night, busy streets of London and eventually pulled up in front of a large townhouse with stone steps up to a grey door, she hoped that moment would be very soon.
Alfie got out and walked round the car to help Rose out. He opened her door and held out his hand. She released her knees and put her stiff legs on the floor of the car. She was feeling weak and grasped Alfie's hand tightly as she carefully climbed out. Alfie put his other arm around her waist to steady her and led her to the steps.
"Well, Petal, this is my humble abode. I wish I could have welcomed you here in better circumstances but here we are. Let's go on up, shall we? Careful as you go, hold onto the banister there. That's it. There'll be a warm fire inside and food for you. You must be starving."
The door at the top of the steps opened and a short, round, older woman appeared in the doorway. Her grey hair was pulled back into a bun and few curls hung loosely round her face. Her eyes were dark and alert and widened at the sight of Alfie helping a small girl up the steps, but – like Frances at Arrow House – had seen many things in her employment as a gangster's housekeeper. She kept her face impassive but not unfriendly and stood back to let them in.
Alfie led Rose from the hallway into a large living room where there was a fire roaring in a fireplace in the middle of the far wall. The room, despite being a good size, was crammed with bookcases, furniture of various shapes and sizes, ornaments and curious objects, all of which made it appear quite small. There were thick curtains drawn across the windows and the few lamps that were lit, along with the fire, threw a dim glow over the room. It felt to Rose like the room hadn't been aired in a very long time and it reminded her of Alfie's office in his bakery – dusty and stuffy but somehow welcoming. Alfie took off his coat and hat and handed them to his housekeeper. She took them and stretched up on her toes to hang them on one of the coat hooks in the entrance way. She had a slight Russian accent when she spoke.
"Another late night, Alfred."
"I'm afraid so, yes, Mrs. Abramov."
"Did the fight go well? How is your nephew?"
"I wouldn't know, I left before the end."
Mrs. Abramov raised an eyebrow at this but didn't comment. She nodded at Rose.
"You have a visitor?"
"Ah, yes, that's right. Just for the night. Will you get her a bowl of something warm? She's probably extremely hungry by now."
Her face full of questions that she knew she wouldn't be getting the answers to any time soon. Mrs. Abramov turned and walked away down the corridor to the kitchen at the back of the house. Alfie put his hands gently on Rose's shoulders and moved her further into the room.
"Do you want to take your coat off, sweetheart?"
Ignoring the question, Rose looked up at Alfie in expectation.
"Alfie, can you find out what's happening at home? Could you speak to your people there and ask if they know anything?"
Alfie took in a breath. He wasn't in a hurry to find out if Tommy was still alive, but he knew that Rose was desperate for news.
"Very well, I will do that. I have a phone in my office." He indicated somewhere on the other side of the house. "Sit down on the sofa here, look, and I'll go and find out what I can."
She looked at the large over-stuffed burgundy-coloured sofa by the fire, one of two facing each other, and realised that she did indeed need to sit down. She was exhausted. She took off her coat and moved over to sit down in the seat nearest the fire, pushing cushions and blankets out of the way, and laid her coat across the back of it. She heard the clicking of paws running and a huge bullmastiff with a light red coat and a flat, black face came trotting into the room and headed straight for Alfie who immediately made a fuss of him. She guessed this was Cyril.
"There he is, eh boy? Glad to see me? I'm glad to see you. I've brought a friend to meet you. There she is, see? This is Rose. Go and say hello then, go on."
At Alfie's indication, Cyril trotted over to Rose and sniffed at her hands which were on her lap. She stroked his head and scratched his ears a little. Alfie smiled as the two of them got to know each other.
"I'll go and make that phone call. You two stay here."
He left the room and Rose carried on stroking Cyril. His fur was soft and his quiet snuffling made her smile slightly. She could tell he was a gentle creature, no matter his large size, and she was suddenly grateful for his company. She thought of Fred as she'd left him in her bedroom in Watery Lane, staring up at the ceiling as she pulled herself up into the attic space. She could hear him whining as she'd made her way through the attic space and had half-expected him to somehow find his way up behind her. As she sat in Alfie's living room, with Alfie's dog, she felt a wrench in her heart for her own dog at home. What had become of him? Had someone let him out of the bedroom? Fed him? Let him outside to do his business? Had the Italians found him?
She drew in a sharp breath as all the terrible images that had accompanied her in the car journey suddenly entered her head all at once. She put both hands over her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the horror of them. Cyril noticed her distress and put his paw on her knee, trying to comfort her.
This was the sight which met Mrs. Abramov as she entered the living room with a tray of warm beef stew and dumplings, along with a cup of tea and a slice of fruit cake. She paused as she regarded the young girl who was clearly very upset and wondered once again why Alfie had brought her home. She cleared her throat as she crossed the room and put the tray down on the small table in front of Rose. Aware of the housekeeper's presence, Rose made a great effort to swallow her pain, brought her arms down to encircle her waist and raised her red-rimmed eyes to Mrs. Abramov who was looking at her curiously. She pointed to the tray.
"Some food for you. It would be good for you to eat it."
Rose had no intention of eating, she felt nauseous and had no appetite. Nevertheless, she remembered her manners.
"Thank you, Mrs…?"
"Abramov. And your name?"
"I'm Rose."
"Rose? A nice name. Like the flower, no?"
Rose nodded. "Roses were my mother's favourites."
"Your mother is here in London?"
"My parents are both dead."
"Ah, an orphan."
Rose nodded.
"And Alfred, where did he find you?"
Looking at her alarmed, Rose didn't know how to answer her. She wasn't sure what she was allowed to say. Mrs. Abramov waved her hand.
"Ah, it is no matter. Alfred has his reasons. I too am an orphan, Rose."
"You are?"
"Yes, I was a child younger than you when they killed my parents. Alfred's mother was my neighbour back in the old country and her family took me with them when they fled here. I have known Alfred since he was born."
Rose was interested in the old woman's story and in what little she could glean of Alfie's history. She shared a little of her own.
"My mother died when I was a baby and my father left before I was born. He died a few years ago. I only met him once."
"So, who raised you?"
Rose's eyes filled with tears. "My brother. And my aunt. But, they're … I don't know…"
A tear fell out of each eye and Rose didn't say anymore. Mrs. Abramov's face softened. This poor child had been through something terrible, she could tell. She recognised trauma when she saw it. Rose sniffed and then coughed – a deep, rattling cough which made the housekeeper frown.
"You are unwell, child?"
"I'm fine, really. Just tired."
"You eat something, it will be good for you."
Rose looked at the tray but couldn't bring herself to eat. She picked up the cup of tea and took a sip. Mrs. Abramov watched her expectantly, clearly waiting for her to pick up the bowl. Rose took another sip of tea. The older woman opened her mouth to say something when Alfie swept back into the room. Rose jumped up, spilling her tea but not noticing. Mrs. Abramov reached out and took the cup from her as she moved quickly over to Alfie. Her heart was pounding and her legs shook slightly. She couldn't read his expression and spoke impatiently.
"Well?"
Looking at his housekeeper, he dismissed her silently. She cast a concerned glance at Rose and left the room. Rose reached out and shook Alfie's arm.
"Alfie, what did they say?"
He shook his head ever so slightly and her stomach dropped to the floor.
"There isn't much news yet, my Petal. Apparently, things are in chaos up there." He took her arms before he said the next thing, careful in case her legs buckled. "But things don't look good, I'm afraid. It seems that the Italians have the upper hand. And that they're coming here next."
Rose scanned his face, unsure of what he meant. "What does that mean - they've got the upper hand?"
"It means they've won, sweetheart."
Rose's legs did indeed buckle and Alfie held her up long enough to get her to the sofa where he sat down with her next to him. She gripped his forearms and whispered her question.
"Are they dead?"
"I don't know, Petal, I really don't. My man couldn't tell me anymore details. All I know is that the Italians have won and are on the move. And that means I need to get you away from here."
Rose had let go of him and had slumped back in the sofa, leaning against the arm, unable to hold herself up or to even form any more words, though she had a lot of questions still. If the Italians had won then that meant they'd fulfilled the terms of their vendetta and that surely some, if not all of her family were dead. She wasn't fully aware of what was happening around her now. If felt like every last ounce of energy she had possessed had drained out of her. None of her senses seemed to work properly. Blood was rushing in her ears and her head was so full of terrible images and thoughts that she couldn't make sense of anything anymore.
Alfie was looking at her concerned. What he had told her was the truth. His man in Birmingham didn't have all the facts and was only repeating things he'd heard secondhand. There were rumours of deaths, but nothing he could confirm. He did know, however, that Luca wasn't wasting any time and was on his way to London. That meant that Alfie had less time that he thought. He called out for Mrs. Abramov who appeared much too quickly to have been anywhere else but right outside the door, no doubt with an ear pressed up against it.
"Mrs. Abramov, I need to go out for a little while. Can you watch my friend here? When I get back, we'll be leaving straight away. Would you get Tim to pack a bag for me?"
Mrs. Abramov glared at him. "What have you done to this poor, orphaned girl, hmm? You have taken her from her family? You have given her bad news and broken her heart?"
He didn't have time to be lectured. He looked at Rose who had pulled her legs up and curled into a ball, her arms tightly round her waist, her face pale and drawn. He didn't know how to help her, he only knew that he needed to get her away as soon as possible. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Just take care of her."
He grabbed his coat and swept out of the house. He was on his way to the bakery to leave a welcome gift for the Italians when they arrived. He knew that at this point he couldn't stop them from taking what was his, but he could damn well make sure there was nothing left to take when they arrived – as well of nothing left of them.
The housekeeper looked at Rose with a sigh. She reached down and felt her forehead which was hotter than she would have liked. She sighed and pulled a blanket up and over her. She stroked Rose's hair out of her face.
"I'll be back, dear one. I will bring medicine and a cold towel for your head. Be of good courage, yes? You may yet get the good news you hope for."
She left the room and Rose lay motionless on the sofa, her head propped up against the arm. Cyril, who had been lying on the hearth, lifted his head to look at her. He stood up, padded over, then jumped up on the sofa and settled himself carefully next to her, his head resting on her leg. She reached over, laid her hand on him and rested it there. A few minutes later, she fell into an exhausted sleep filled with dreams of death and fear and grief.