I’ve never imagined how I would fall in love. Strange, I know. Most girls my age have already experienced the thrill of finding their sweethearts, with some having sampled a few of Camdens’ most eligible Bachelors, before settling for The One. Me? No. I’m twenty-five years old and kept under lock and key in my ivory tower. The difference is, no Prince Charming will ever be brave enough to attempt a rescue. That is asking for trouble. I might as well be handing them a shovel to dig their own grave. My father has often threatened to put a bullet in the skull of any man who dared steal a glance in my direction. I wouldn’t doubt that he would act upon his threats. After all, he is the most notorious gangster in Camden town. Lucky me.
Being the only daughter of Alfie Solomons sure does come with its challenges. Don’t get me wrong, there are the odd perks. I can’t deny that I enjoy the luxury of having a vast selection of dresses at my fingertips, but what is the point if I can’t even wear them anywhere? It’s almost as if I have a wardrobe filled to the brim to appease the shadows on my wall. Not many know of my existence, only a select, well trusted few. I spend my days confined within the grounds of the Solomon manor, and even then, that still comes with its restrictions. Do not enter this room, do not enter that room, don’t even think about stepping into the front grounds. God forbid one of the mere mortals spot me, and ignite a spark of gossip so fierce, that it sets the whole of Camden alight. So, this is where I have spent the majority of my life, locked inside the cages of the prison my father has created. A prison risen from the ashes of his own insecurity and fear over loosing me, like he did my mother.
“Any tea today dear?” Louisa, my housemaid and in some ways my only friend, asked. She is, I presume, in her early fifties, with hair tilting on the edge of grey with peaks of her previous red strands still woven through. I’ve known Louisa since the moment I was born and have gained comfort from her soft Scottish accent on more than one occasion. She had chosen not to have any family of her own, stating that me and my father where the only family she’d ever need. She bustled into my room, expertly balancing a tray laden with a teapot, cups and a selection of cakes. I felt my mouth water slightly at the sight, hopping down from my seat at the windowsill.
“I wouldn’t say no to a cup” I responded, a small smile playing upon my lips, as I made my way over to her. “And is that a lemon drizzle cake I see before me?”
“Indeed, it is. I thought you would enjoy a sample” she laughed, placing the tray down upon my dresser. The China clinked gently upon the impact, Louisa reaching forward for the tea pot.
“One may presume that this is some sort of deliciously cruel distraction technique” I supressed a laugh. Louisa paused briefly, only for a short moment, before beginning to pour the tea, the amber liquid splashing into the cup. I felt my heart stutter, as I struggled to subdue the excitement that gradually sprang in the pits of my stomach. “Louisa. Is it a busy day in Casa del Solomons?”. I attempted to make my voice appear humorous, injecting some form of jokefulness into my words, but even I could hear that my tone fell flat.
“You know I have no insight into your fathers’ doings Adina” Louisa sighed as she spoke, placing two sugar cubes into the tea- just as I liked it. She picked up a spoon, absent mindedly stirring it as she continued. “However, I have heard there may be some important visitors arriving today. I’ve been given strict instructions to ensure you stay on the upper floor”.
“I know, I know. Stay upstairs Adina, or people will see you. God forbid people see me Louisa” I muttered, as she gently pushed the tea into my hands. I took a small sip, enjoying the warmth as it slipped down my throat. A sad smile formed upon Louisas’ lips, as she awkwardly brushed down her apron.
“I know child. I know” she placed a hand upon my arm as she spoke, her brown eyes looking into mine. I could see the sadness sketched upon the corners of her eyes, settling into the grooves. “Please listen to me today. Try not to give an old woman a heart attack before her time”. She let her hand fall to her side, her eyes giving a quick scan across my room, not that there was anything for her to sort. I had the usual pile of books placed precariously upon my bedside table, a dreamers’ perfect escape. And I was the best kind of dreamer. “I’ll be back up later to collect your tea things and take you down for supper”. Louisa turned her back to me, quickly making her escape. I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to be stuck up here too, if I could help it.
I exhaled, picking up a slice of the lemon drizzle cake she had left. On any normal day- if you could call my mundane existence normal- it would have brought me joy. However, knowing that the World still moved on around me and I continued to be detained, no amount of my favourite sweet treat could subdue the despondency I felt. Holding both my cup and slice of cake, I made my way back over to my seat on the windowsill. Apart from reading, this was my favourite way to pass the time. One of my fathers’ many Golden Rules, was to not set foot in the front grounds. Yet he never said I couldn’t look.
With my back pressed against the side of the window frame, I took another sip of my tea, my eyes scanning the outside. I had to admit, that it was impressive. Trees lined the driveway up to my house, casting shadows across the grounds. My father took pride in the flowers the gardeners grew, a scatter of rainbows across the cobbled stones. It was beautiful, but there was only so much beauty his money could buy. It was a rare day of sunshine in Camden, after a few days of rain, and my room was slowly becoming uncomfortably hot. I placed my cup of tea on the ledge beside me, before prising open my window a touch, allowing a welcoming cool breeze to enter my room.
I heard the commotion, before I saw it. The dull roar of an engine, the crunch of the cobbled stones as wheels drove over them. A black car moved into my line of sight, before coming to a standstill near the front entrance of my home. My fathers’ workers hustled and bustled below my window, ensuring that the illusion of perfection was maintained. These visitors must be important.
I pressed my face closer against the windowpane, feeling the warmth of the glass against my forehead. I was desperate to get at least a glimpse of these visitors, these who had been deemed significant enough to receive an invite here. My fathers’ right hand man, Ollie, rushed to open the door to the vehicle. He was mere moments too late, before the door swung open, making him stumble slightly to the side.
I watched as three men began to exit the car, one after the other. They were dressed in a similar fashion, as if they had agreed upon a uniform prior to arriving. I could see a peak of three-piece suits hidden underneath heavy overcoats. Their dark laced boots moved almost noiselessly against the cobbled stones, almost like they even brewed fear in the small slabs underneath their feat. Their uniform was topped off with newsboy caps, which cast small shadows against their faces, cruelly obscuring me from fully being able to identify these three strangers. Yet I could sense the darkness that shrouded the trio, who at this moment where being led in by Ollie, seemingly having recovered from his brief social faux-pax. They all appeared to be deep in conversation, although I could not quite decipher the words they spoke, their Birmingham accents floating up to my window with low murmurs.
The third man began to trail behind, before pausing for a brief moment, halting just on the edge of my eyeline. I watched as he scanned his surroundings, almost as if a hunter would scan for his pray, his expression partially shadowed by the peak of his cap. I placed my fingertips upon the windowpane, as if I subconsciously desired to touch him. Who was he? I watched in anticipation as his eyes slowly moved up the building, before settling upon mine. A breath hitched in my throat, as our eyes met, a smirk springing upon his lips.
His eyes where the shade of blue that drew you in under false pretences, the kind that lulled you into a flawed sense of calmness. Yet even from the distance that settled uneasily between us, I could sense the storm that brewed beneath his guarded expression, and I just wanted to dance in his rain. I wanted to breathe in all of his secrets and know every inch of the parts he kept cleverly hidden from the world. He lifted his right hand in a gesture of greeting, the smirk growing in prominence, before he made his way inside.
Electricity coursed through my veins, as I stood up, ignoring the clatter of the crockery that fell to the floor as I stumbled slightly in shock. Who was he? I knew in that moment, that I just needed to find out. To hell with the rules and restrictions.
I made my way towards my bedroom door, pausing in front of my dresser mirror, taking in my reflection. My eyes where glinting with childlike excitement, a rare flush colouring my cheeks and painting my chest with pink blotches. A man like him would never be interested in the girlish caricature I was currently portraying. I frantically brushed down my dress, giving the fabric a quick glance over- thankfully, it appeared that no tea had tainted the light green skirts. My hair was in its normal midday style, the blonde waves beginning to frizz slightly. It would have to do, I thought, attempting to convince myself that I had no interest in speaking to the stranger. I just wanted to get a closer look.
I carefully lent up against my bedroom door, pressing my ear against the wood. I could hear nothing outside, but I couldn’t make the foolish assumption that it was safe. My hand gripped the cool metal of the door handle, turning it slowly as I pushed against it. I paused briefly, knowing that if anyone was in the corridor, I would soon be frantically hurried back inside my room. Stillness.
I knew that the three strangers would most likely be in my fathers’ office, which was down a small flight of stairs, tucked away in the shadows of the foyer. I was aware of the risks that faced me if I was to continue with this, but I knew that the reward would far outweigh it. I needed to know who he was.
I moved down the corridor, ensuring that I stayed close within the shadows. I muttered a silent thank you to my father, and his penchant for enjoying the darkest of finest things, which unbeknownst to him, provided me with many a hiding space. Maroon drapes were suspended against the walls, softly smothering the light which came through the few open windows. Dust particles danced in the rare streams of light which had escaped through the fabric, disturbed at me moving through their space.
I made my way to the top of the staircase, the wooden floorboards protesting feebly under my weight. I could feel my heartbeat stutter against my ribcage, with each step downwards I made, before I made it onto the bottom floor. I halted at the final step, testing the safety of my surroundings, before creeping towards the direction of my fathers’ office. I was thankful again for my father in that moment, and the incomprehensible fear he instilled in his workers, for there was not a soul in sight.
I paused at his office door, almost unable to believe that I had made it this far. I was riding on the coattails of luck, not daring to believe that it would soon surely run out. I could hear my fathers’ voice drift out from the small gap between the door and floor, as I brought myself down into a crouch, again pressing my ear against a door. I smiled slightly to myself. I had become quite a dab hand at spying. I listened to the mingling of three voices, as they melted together, each one fighting to gain the upper hand in the conversation.
Not four. Unless he was a silent observer, which judging by the glimpse I had procured of him, I very highly doubted it.
Suddenly, it didn’t feel right to be where I was. I knew in that moment, my luck was slowly running out, slipping out of my fingers like the finest grains of sand. And in the moment, I felt a hand grip my shoulder from behind, I knew my luck had been non-existent in the first place.
“Are you spying on me and my brothers?”
germansingergirl
baratheonpilled
annaxmalina
areudirty
2087
pixelskylines