Chapter Text
She sat on the side of the bed, though she didn’t know why. Alfie had told her to wait for him on the bed, not to sit on the side. It was how she used to wait when she knew she was in trouble and was just waiting for one of her parents to call her to Papa’s study. She kept pulling nervously at her fingers.
“What are you nervous about, treacle?”
She hadn’t heard him at all and whipped around to see Alfie in the door carrying… Why was he carrying a bowl of cholent? She looked into his face, barely registering the fact her heart had started beating a lot harder because she was so mesmerized by the look on his face. She didn’t think she had ever seen it before. It was almost like a face a mischievous child would make, but tempered or maybe elevated by something else, something more thrilling than mere trouble.
“Are you hungry?” she asked. It was funny, because his house was so cluttered, but everything was very clean. He had terrible table manners, but he was fastidious in his habits. He always used a napkin, he somehow managed to never splatter on himself, and she had never seen him eat anywhere other than the kitchen table or the dining room, though she supposed he might eat at his desk. It was just odd to think of Alfie eating stew in his bed, though she tried not to let it show on her face.
“No, treacle, but I thought you might be.” He put the bowl on her nightstand and sat beside her, very close.
She didn’t know what she was feeling. She was aware now, very aware, of her runaway pulse. There was a kind of sick, guilty feeling in her stomach at the sight of the soup, but she didn’t know why. The feeling went through some complicated modification as the warmth from Alfie’s arm seeped into hers and his scent of rum and the clean top notes of his cologne filled her lungs. She took a shaky breath in and let it out. “I’m not very hungry right now,” she admitted, not wanting the soup as much as she wanted him to pin her to the bed and say something that made her turn red, preferably right in her ear so she could feel his lips and beard tickling the skin there.
“You aren’t eating enough, ziskayt.”
“What?” Dark fear, for the first time ever, lanced through her at Alfie’s words. She looked away from him, not wanting him to see her initial reaction to what he said. She suddenly remembered that he had researched her father, that he had known what Papa did for money before she ever told him, that he had been testing her when he finally asked. Had he researched her too?
She felt his warm hand close around both of her cold ones to stop her from pulling at her fingers. She stilled and leaned against him, feeling grateful he was still touching her, still cared about her.
Alfie kept talking like he hadn’t noticed anything. His voice was soft but insistent. She felt like there was the softness of his voice and then the bedrock of his will beneath each word he spoke. “You need to eat, don’t’cha? What is it, are you nervous about the wedding? ”
She looked up at him, confused. His hand was still wrapped around hers. “I am nervous,” she admitted and put her face on his shoulder, unable to keep letting him pierce through her every thought with his eyes.
“There’s no need to be nervous, Edna.” She looked down at his hand wrapped around hers. It made her feel so secure, like he might be telling the truth. She didn’t want to be nervous. She wanted Alfie to start touching her, but he continued to sit behind a veil of some questionable energy, something she couldn’t quite grasp. “Get up on the bed,” he told her and she wondered if she was overreacting. And if she was, what was she overreacting to?
But she listened to him anyway and stood up. She started to pull down the blankets but Alfie said, “No, leave those for now. Here, just come here, eh?” His warm hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her up, off her feet, until she was sitting in his lap facing him, her knees on the bed. She felt her cheeks go warm as she put her arms around his neck, but there wasn’t anything else she could do if she wanted to keep her balance.
His hands closed around her waist. For just a second, she could see that he was talking, but she could only feel the heat of his hands through her dress. Then she heard him say, “...You’re going to eat the entire bowl, all right?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not hungry, though.” She was beyond hunger. She was in that lovely, empty place. She knew she wasn’t supposed to like it, but she just didn’t like feeling too full. She certainly didn’t want to ruin it when it felt this good. And she didn’t know why he kept going on about it when she was sitting on his lap and his lips were even more red than the tips of his ears, and his eyes kept flicking to her lips too.
“You ate a proper meal too long ago. You’re going to eat one now. What I want to know, Edna,” he said, speaking over her protests, just bullrushing right over them like a train wheel over a penny. “Is if you want to do this like a good girl, or if you think you need a spot of righteous discipline?”
She could hear her mother’s voice in her own when she asked, “I beg your pardon?” completely lost.
Alfie smiled as though charmed and kissed the soft spot where her neck met her jaw. She leaned closer, putting more of her weight on her arms around his shoulders. It made her a little taller than him and he stopped kissing her neck to meet her eyes and say, “If you tell me you won’t eat the soup, you’ll be needing some punishment, right, because it would be a truly evil deed to waste food, especially when you yourself are so hungry. Or, I suppose you just eat the soup. You will have noticed with that clever little mind of yours that you’re eating the soup either way.” He kissed her throat again. “I only want to know,” he rubbed his lips against her collarbone, “Which way is it gonna be?”
She shifted her weight to her legs and scooted forward a bit without really thinking about it, lost in thought. She did not always understand Alfie. The combination of Cockney and Alfie was more than she could wrap her head around sometimes , even if he did think her clever. He was kissing her throat, gently sucking at the skin there and giving her time to think, as if he just assumed she had understood the question.
“What’s the righteous discipline?” she asked.
“What did your papa do when you was bad, eh?”
He had spanked her, of course. All parents did that. She could tell Papa’s heart just wasn’t in it, poor man, but it had always been the part before that had torn at her – the part where he looked her in the eyes and said he was disappointed.
Alfie’s hands left her waist while she thought and soon he had his hands wrapped around her backside. She could melt, she could melt just like quicksilver it felt so good. “Um, he spanked us?”
He huffed against her neck and then made a slight humming noise. “Mm, did he?” He squeezed her with one hand, sending a jolt of awareness through her so she jumped and felt her nipples begin to harden. “How many times?”
“Oh, just once,” she said.
“What, even if you was really bad?” He leaned back to look at her and she scooted forward on her knees and sank down again. Alfie lifted his hands so she could sit on his thighs and put them right on her hips instead, his thumbs feeling the points of her hipbones.
She shrugged, trying to remember, it seemed so important to him. “One time I knocked over Mama’s favorite platter. I think he gave me three swats for that.”
“Hm, well, you have not knocked over a platter this time, Edna. You’ve done something much more grave. You know what it is?”
She shook her head, hoping he was about to really explain himself.
“You’ve refused to care for yourself. And I simply won’t have it. Now, will it be ten swats and some soup, or just some soup?”
She sat up on instinct but Alfie brought her right back down. When he did, she brushed against him, rigid through his trousers. She melted into him, again without thinking, just needing to be as close to him as possible. “You’re gonna spank me if I don’t eat the soup?” she asked searching his eyes, not believing what she was saying.
“I believe I’ve said, and you can correct me if I’m wrong, that you’re eating the soup either way. I just want to know how you’d like it – maybe with a bit of discipline, yeah? And listen, I can see you gearing up to argue, so you just say, “I want the soup,” and I’ll stop, eh? But if I start smacking this bum, Edna, I am not gonna stop at three, and I’m not going to listen to your pleas, either. So you just say, “I want the soup,” and the soup you shall have. All right? Now we need to get going because the food’s getting cold, so what will it be?”
She opened her mouth but nothing came out. She looked at the bowl, covered by a dish towel, and then back at Alfie, her mouth still open. She said the only thing in her head that made sense. “But I’m not hungry.”
He moved faster than she would have believed, so used to his slow, deliberate movements, she thought they were the only ones he had. But before she could even blink she was bent over his knees, her chest on one leg and her legs draped over the other.
“Alfie, wait, you -”
“Sorry, treacle, did you say you want the soup? Save us from this nasty business?”
His hand was tickling up the back of her thigh like he was going to touch her. Her mouth popped open. She was staring at the bedspread pattern, unable to quite believe this had happened. She saw herself fighting her way off of him and throwing the soup bowl at him. She saw herself saying she wanted the soup and eating every bite under Alfie’s watchful, heated gaze. Instead she said, “I’ll yell.” It wasn’t very convincing. Maybe she should have actually yelled it.
“I’d wager you will, sweetheart.” His wrist caught on the hem of her nightgown and his hand kept going up, so his fingers were on her bare buttcheek.
“Alfie! Anna will hear,” she whispered, her heart thudding. Oh, it would be terrible if he lifted her nightgown and saw how wet she was, that it was taking all of her willpower not to grind against his leg.
“She would, Edna, she would. If she were here, though, right?”
She felt him bare her skin to his relentless sight and closed her eyes as a rush of heat filled her face and neck. She breathed through her mouth, embarrassed by how shakily she did it. His hand rested on her backside like it had always been there, warmer than anything she had ever felt before .
“I think ten should do, right? You want to count ‘em? We’ll let you count them, right, so you know and I know when I’m done, no cheating.”
She realized he was really about to smack her and tried to scramble off his lap, no thought in her head but escape. She hadn’t even realized he had an arm around her until he tightened it. His grip was as inexorable as iron. How could he be this strong? She supposed she was so used to seeing him injured and in pain, she had forgotten what he did every day. Her breath was hot in her throat as she dragged air in, her nipples hard points. She could feel the cool air of the bedroom on her. She was so wet she knew Alfie could see it.
“What’s this now?” Her already warm face flushed hot and she closed her eyes tight, pressing her lips together to keep in a miserable sound. “I must say, this is a pretty sight, treacle, you getting all done up for me.” Two of his fingers breached her folds. She jumped because it startled her and Alfie placed a big soothing hand on her back, rubbing small circles into her skin as his fingers continued to shallowly trace her wet inner lips. “Fucking hell, I knew you’d have the prettiest cunt. Fuck me, that’s lovely.” She shivered at the gentle touches, at being so exposed. She felt like she could burst into tears any second and she felt mortified at how much she burned for his hands on her. This wasn’t dignified! It wasn’t expected of a wife! But she loved it. She was melting for more, in anticipation of what she would soon feel. What was wrong with her?
“Such a good fucking girl,” Alfie said and his fingers left her, his hand steadied on her lower back and she knew he was keeping her in place. She folded her arms on the bed and rested her head on them, hoping he wouldn’t look at her or say anything else and yearning for him to do both of those things. “If only you’d been this good at the supper table, eh? Behaved yourself like a proper young lady and eaten your dinner. Hm.” She felt his hand caress her cheek, feather light touches. “You’re gonna behave yourself from now on, though, ain’t ya? Yeah? You’re not gonna make your Papa do this to you again over an uneaten meal, right?”
She swallowed hard. “No,” she said, her voice shaking even on just one syllable.
“Good.” His voice was that low growl he spoke in when they were in bed and he was hard from wanting her. “You ready, milaya?”
“Y-”
She didn’t even get a chance to speak. Alfie’s warm hand disappeared from her backside and then cracked against her flesh and she jumped again, miserably turned on and a little scared. A hot stinging spread from the point of contact as she gasped. Her clit felt warm and swollen and she could feel herself getting wetter.
“How many was that?”
She gulped in a breath. “One.”
“Do you want to say, ‘I want the soup?’”
She pressed her lips together. She wasn’t sure why it was so important to her to be so stubborn. She only knew she couldn’t bear to say what he wanted her to say, to appear even weaker in his eyes than she already did.
“Good.” His hand was back on her cheek, rubbing circles into the spot he had struck. It spread the heat and the sting even further and she had to bite her bottom lip hard to keep in the embarrassing groan that wanted to come out of her. “That was just a warm-up, though, wasn’t it?”
She opened her mouth, she wasn’t even sure what she was about to say and then his hand left her and cracked down again, much harder than last time, so the heat bloomed like a flower on her other cheek before pain swiftly followed, much more than the first time.
“T-two,” she stuttered, her hands in tight fists.
“
“That’s right.” His hand rubbed circles into the pain and she chewed her lip. How could something hurt and feel so good at the same time? “This bum, Edna, I’d swear before God, it was made for a good slap. Hmm, and you seem to really like it, don’t you? So wet over two little slaps.” His fingers breached her again, teasing her untried entrance with an urgency he never had before as she gasped for air. His fingers left her and she heard him suck the taste of her off his fingers. She shivered and bunched the bedspread up in her fists, her mouth open as she tried to get in enough air.
Then, suddenly, with no warning, another smack, pain that sang in her nerves and dissolved into something red and hot where his hand had connected with flesh. “Three,” she said, the end of the word turning into a moan as he rubbed the spot he had hit.
“Taking this so well, aren’t you? I wish everyone in London could see how good you’re being, pet.”
Smack . “Four,” she said trying so hard not to whine, trying not to writhe in his lap at the thought of someone else seeing this, watching him treat her this way and her enjoying it so much.
“Mm, I can tell you’re reaching your limit, eh? That’s all right, then. Let’s get this finished. What do you say, ziskayt? Can you be good for me just a little longer?”
She nodded, but that didn’t seem to be what he wanted because he pushed hard into the painful warmth he’d brought to the surface of her skin until she shouted, “Yes!”
“Yes, what? Hm? What are you agreeing to, eh? Tell me.”
She was almost in tears. There were a few pooling in her eyes even with her eyes closed. She didn’t even know why she was crying except that she was so overwhelmed. “Y-yes, I can be good.” Her hips circled. She was so ready for him to touch her she couldn’t keep them still anymore.
“Here we go, then, love. Hold on. After this, you can show your papa how well-behaved you can be, won’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
His hand wasn’t on her. She could feel it raised above her, somehow a weighty presence even though it wasn’t touching her. “Yes, I’ll be good, Papa.” She bit her bottom lip and squirmed on his lap again as lust coursed through her body, shivering and needy in her chest and hips, spreading into her arms and tight fisted hands, even down to her toes until she could sob from how much she needed to come.
“That’s good. You count them out, yeah?”
She nodded.
He didn’t stop between anymore. He didn’t say anything while he tenderly rubbed at the ache. He just smacked her exposed, sore flesh until it seemed like it would never stop, until the pain became almost unbearable.
“Five. Six! Seven!” She squeezed her eyes shut feeling tears pool and fall down her nose. “Eight! Nine! Te-e-en!”
“There we go. There we go, now.” He squeezed her and pain lanced through the muscle and she flinched, but then he was rubbing at her again, slow, smooth circles and she relaxed into his lap and the bed, quietly crying with relief. “So fucking good, I’d tell the world, Edna, I really would. Fucking hell, this red bum, we should show someone how good you can be for me, right? If I wasn’t such a jealous man, love, I’d show everyone.”
She swallowed, imagining people knowing what she had just let him do, somehow getting even hotter at the thought until her hips circled beneath his hand, the movement just enough to cause some friction between her aching nipples and the bedspread until she was totally lost in it.
“Please, Alfie, please touch me.”
“You ready to come now?”
“Yes, pleeease,” she whined.
“You’re gonna be a good girl for me and eat your dinner after?”
“Yes,” she whispered and was rewarded immediately.
“You stay just like you are then, precious.” His first two fingers stroked her soaking folds again and she squirmed with embarrassment. She liked it so much when he told her she was good but what did it mean that she got so wet when he smacked her like that? One hand continued rubbing small circles into her backside while his fingers collected up all the wetness that was almost dripping out of her. “Such a pretty red bum you’ve got, love.” He bent down and she felt a whiskery kiss on her heated, sensitive flesh. She startled, but he kept kissing her, ten kisses before he sat up again. “You don’t know what it does to me,” he said, as his fingers finally caressed her clit and she jolted, an achey pain flaring where her muscles were still sore, “When you do what I say, yeah? No one’s ever made me feel this fucking good before.” He kept talking, telling her she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, his breath caught in his chest when she walked in the room, how he wanted to show her off and also never wanted any other man to ever see her, and all the while he touched her until she trembled with it, until her hips were circling, pressing down on his hand for more, the soreness melding with the pleasure until it was one and the same, just one great big warmth that burned her through and through.
“Alfie, please,” she begged when he kept touching her at the same languorous pace.
“Please, what, hm? Tell your papa what you need. You’ve been such a good girl for me, I’ll give you anything you want, yeah?”
She closed her eyes tight and unclenched her jaw to speak. “I need to come, Papa, please.”
He groaned, a quiet sound that throbbed in her chest and between her legs. “Such good fucking manners, all your pretty little words. You need to come, eh? You want to come on my fingers? Hm? They make you feel that good?”
“Yes, they feel so good, Alfie. You make me feel so good.” She was crying again, but couldn’t have said why, and rubbed her face on the bedspread. It was hot and wet. The only cool things in the room were the rings on Alfie’s fingers and the cold air that caressed her swollen wet skin.
“All right. Here we go, eh? Something nice for my good girl.”
She shuddered again. Oh, she liked being good, liked him saying she was his and he was happy with her. He rubbed her clit now, quickly but still gentle, it was so sensitive, but he somehow knew exactly how much pressure she needed, how fast he should move in those maddening circles. She let out sounds that made her feel wanton, unafraid of being overheard, wanting, for some reason, for Alfie to hear her.
“That’s it.” His slow, soothing voice only riled her further. He sounded so unconcerned, like maybe he could do this forever and remain unaffected. “Take your pleasure, love, let it in, hm? Doing so well, aren’t you? I’ve never known anyone who liked it this much. It makes me feel so fucking good, thinking you’d let me do anything to you -”
Her orgasm crashed over her and through her, an out of control wave that took her out to sea, spinning underwater till she didn’t know which way was up. Her hands clenched harder in the blankets and her hips bucked. She said his name in a high whining voice she didn’t even recognize as her own, the last thing she could hold on to as she went into a deep abyss of pleasure.
“There we are.” His voice was still low, still the same gravelly voice that let her know he still wanted her. As the aftershocks shook through her and her limbs trembled from being so tense, she let his low rumbling voice slide over and under her skin, took deep, gasping breaths as he spoke. “That’s how a good girl pleases her papa, innit? Sit up, here we go.”
He pulled her nightgown down so it covered her again and put his hands under her arms to help her sit beside him. It stung, her backside would be sore for a while, she thought, but the bed was soft enough she could sit.
“Now, you’re going to eat your supper with no complaints. Every bite of it.”
She took the bowl without a word. She didn’t know how she felt. It was an odd mixture of pain and relief and a roaring fire of happiness that sat behind her ribs, keeping her almost as warm as Alfie’s arm alongside her.
The stew was still hot. It was also delicious. She was shocked with how hungry she was. She managed half the bowl before she was too full to continue.
“Alfie, I’m really full,” she said and looked up at him to gauge the emotional weather on his face.
He looked from the stew to her. “Could you eat one more bite? For me?”
She nodded and made it a big one.
“Fucking hell. I don’t think I had any idea how much I wanted to see what you’d do for me. Hm. You’ll let me hold you now, eh? Till morning?”
She nodded, feeling sated and sleepy and a little stupid, like a few of the lights in her brain had been switched off.
“You lay down. I’ll get undressed.”
She crawled beneath the covers and listened to the sound of his rings hitting the bowl. She closed her eyes and heard the whispery sounds of Alfie taking off his clothes, the soft thunk of the wardrobe door closing, his heavy, shuffling footfalls on the carpet. Then he was crawling into bed beside her, hot like a furnace. He held his arm up so she could put her head on his chest.
Some feeling filled her, like a spring fed pool, it just kept bubbling up and up until she felt like she was drowning in it. She rubbed her face on his chest as she had rubbed her tears into the blanket.
“Alfie?”
“Hm? What is it, ziskayt?” His voice sounded pleased and lazy, like he’d done nothing all day but lie in the sun.
“It’s not bad that I...that I liked that? The spanking?”
“’Course not, treacle. Pain and pleasure, God put them together. I don’t know why, he’s quite a mysterious bloke, really.”
She smiled. “Yeah.” A big yawn forced her mouth open wide and then she snuggled in closer. Alfie’s warmth and scent of rum and the clean scent of his cologne made her feel completely surrounded by him, utterly safe. The feeling was still there, too. It was a beautiful, gorgeous feeling, something to do with him and how she would rather be here at his side than anywhere else in the world. She let the feeling wrap her in warm arms, let it rock her to sleep as the sound of Alfie’s breath beneath her ear lulled her into pleasant dreams.
***
It had been no easy task just letting her fall asleep. It was the night before the wedding and it took every ounce of willpower he had not to actually get down on his knees and beg her to let him in.
Fuck, but she truly had looked lovely, her round, lightly muscled arse working, the cheeks red and warm beneath his hand. They twitched and shook beneath the palm of his hand making him feel half mad. Then she had looked up at him like all she wanted was for him to be happy with her as she ate that soup and that had filled him up with a fiery feeling too, his cock full and straining, pleasure singing through his veins, filling him till he thought it would come out of his ears and eyes.
Now she slept in his arms, placing an amount of trust in him that felt sacred in its intensity.
They would be married tomorrow. He had never really thought of having a wife. When he was younger, he’d thought of women (and some men) about as much as any young man might, which is to say he thought about them till he had to take himself in hand nearly three times a day, at least until he learned how to find a willing partner. But he’d been too poor, too mean, too focused on getting out of that fucking derelict tenement to think of marriage and all that came with it. Then he’d been working, got thrown in jail and joined up with the version of the Yiddishers that existed in prison, moving up the ladder until he was in the inner circle by the time Pentonville expelled him. Then came the war, and he had never expected to survive that, still couldn’t believe that any power or divine providence would have allowed it, but here he was on the other side with the most perfect woman who had ever walked the earth, snoring away the hours till they stood beneath the chuppah. It was insanity, but he had been reliably informed he himself was insane, so perhaps it fit better than he thought.
The feelings that swirled through him made it easier to forget how hard he was. It became more important to hold on to her, to smell her hair, to reflect on how fucking lucky he was. Perhaps to prepare, like for a battle, for the day it all went away.
***
Anna unlocked the front door. Neither Cyril nor Marmie greeted her, so they must be upstairs with Miss Brown and Mr. Solomons.
She had been working for Mr. Solomons for six years now. As the Jewish wife of a convicted felon, not many people were willing to hire her. Of course, she also had connections in low places, and when word went out that Alfie Solomons was looking for a housekeeper, she had applied. He had asked if she could keep her mouth shut and that had been the beginning and end of the interview. They had got on as well as such two different people could do, even if he did leave her feeling utterly scandalized at times with his wanton, unregulated behavior. He could also be generous and sweet, and beneath the Mad Baker exterior, he was really a bit of a soft touch, an undeniable bonus for a woman in her position. He never yelled at her, he never hit her or threatened her, he simply tried to keep her safe – and all he asked was for unswerving loyalty and a blind eye.
That had been harder when he brought Miss Brown home. Obviously battered, of uncertain origins, she had wondered what her boss had dragged her into. But it had stopped his whoring, which had always made her uncomfortable. It had also stopped the not-so-clandestine-as-they-thought visits of Tommy Shelby, which she also appreciated, simply because the man from Birmingham scared the daylights out of her.
It had been impossible not to fall in love with the future Mrs. Solomons, however. She was sweet, eager to please, and just as much a soft touch as Mr. Solomons. Anna thought it would continue to be a good position for her. Miss Brown also made Mr. Solomons so happy, an emotion she was only just realizing seemed almost alien on her employer. He had an easy way about him once you got to know him – like most men, she thought before the war he had probably laughed a lot easier – but she had never really seen him happy to be home. He followed Miss Brown from room to room like a besotted puppy, and it had gladdened her to know he could be so human.
Still, sharing a bed before marriage – it was improper. And seeing the bride before the wedding was ill luck, which she wanted to save Mr. Solomons from if she could. She did not for one second think the young couple would control themselves even in the face of tradition, so she set to for upstairs even if she had promised her employer she would never bother him in his bedroom before noon again.
Even though it pained her heart to see two young people unable to keep themselves to themselves, there was an undeniable sweetness to seeing the pair so wrapped up in each other when she entered their room. Mr. Solomons was on his side, curled around Miss Brown like a mother bear might hold her cub, his head tucked downward so his face was near the place her neck met her shoulder. She had a hand wrapped around his, her pale fingers looking improbably small around his large paw.
Anna strode forward and tapped his shoulder. He whipped his head around, his arm tightening around Miss Brown on instinct. He saw that it was just her and relaxed enough to look quite vexed. He turned his head into the pillow for a moment.
“It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding,” she whispered.
He closed his eyes and did something so sweet she almost felt her heart melt right out of her chest. He leaned forward, eyes screwed shut, and smelled her hair before he planted a kiss on the back of her neck. Then he rolled over and sat up outside the cocoon of their blankets.
“G’morning, Anna,” he mumbled and rubbed his face.
“Good morning, sir. I shall help Miss Brown get ready. I took the liberty of moving your best suit downstairs to my room, sir.”
“Thank you. Make sure she has everything she wants today, right?”
She smiled. “Yes, sir. Now get out of here before she turns into a pillar of salt.”
He huffed out a quiet laugh, his warm blue-green eyes uptilted with his smile. “Yeah, all right, Anna. Very good. I shall call Ishmael for you, he’ll drive the car to the temple.”
“Good luck, sir.”
He smiled. “Thank you.”
***
She looked at herself in the mirror one more time. Her hair was perfect, her makeup was perfect (even if Anna had said it was too heavy), and her dress was perfect. She looked exactly the way she had always wanted to look on her wedding day. Even with that knowledge, her heart was in her throat.
“Alfie’s already at the temple?” she asked for probably the hundredth time.
“Yes, yes,” Anna said, still sounding a lot more patient than Edna probably deserved. “And now we really must be going, miss, if you’re to be on time for your own wedding.”
She took as deep a breath as was possible with the tight girdle she wore beneath her dress and followed Anna down the stairs.
“And you’re going to make sure our luggage is in the car when it’s time to go to the station?”
“That’s right, miss.”
“Oh, Anna, I’m so nervous. My hands are shakin’, look.”
Anna took her hand in two chapped, cold hands. “It’s perfectly normal to be nervous, miss. I remember being sick several times before my own wedding.” Anna smiled kindly at her, her brown eyes warm and sparkling. “That being said, I think your marriage will be much happier than mine.”
Edna smiled. “Thank you, Anna.” Her throat was sore with unshed tears. She wished Mama and Papa and her sisters were here. That Bubbe could wrap her in warm arms that smelled like talcum powder and orange blossoms. But at least Anna was here.
She helped make sure Edna’s skirt was fully in the car before she shut the door. She joined her in the backseat, carrying the box that contained Edna’s veil. The wedding cake was already at the small hall Edna had found and rented just half a block away from the synagogue.
She kept going over and over the schedule in her head. She would arrive at the temple and finish getting ready in a back room. Ollie and his wife would walk Alfie down the aisle to the chuppah and then John and Esme would walk her. She couldn’t help worrying that something would happen to put the whole thing off, but that was a fear she had to keep pushing aside or she would make herself crazy. After the ceremony, everyone would walk over to the hall for food, drinks, and dancing. She and Alfie would have a few minutes alone before they needed to face everyone else. She just had to survive until then.
She hated the thought of standing in front of everyone, so many strangers, people who didn’t know her at all and must be wondering why she was marrying Alfie. Even if she was worried the ceremony wouldn’t seem grand enough with such a small audience, she was also relieved. There had been 300 people at Cece’s wedding and Edna had felt claustrophobic in such a big crowd and had nearly hyperventilated and passed out while she stood at the front of the room in the cathedral Papa had procured for the day.
Anna’s hands settled over hers again and she realized she had been pulling at her fingers again. She leaned over the bench seat and whispered in her ear, “Is it the wedding night you’re so afraid of, miss?”
Her cheeks went red. Yes, that was adding to her rising panic for certain. Everything she and Alfie had done so far had been amazing, better than anything she had ever felt, but what if he didn’t like it when they were really, really together? What if there was something wrong with her and it didn’t feel good? She couldn’t speak, it was too embarrassing, so she just nodded.
Anna squeezed her hand. “He’s absolutely besotted, miss. I’ve never seen him this way before. It’s done my heart good to know he can care about someone as much as he does for you. And from what I’ve heard, miss, if you’ll pardon the familiarity -” Anna leaned over and whispered again, “The two of you seem to be enjoying yourselves just fine. It won’t be any different tonight.”
She blushed even more and felt exponentially glad that Anna hadn’t been in the house last night. “Thank you,” she managed to mumble.
“You’re welcome. Keep it together for the next few hours and then you and Mr. Solomons will be in Margate in wedded bliss.”
If it were possible, she went even more red.
Anna carried in her veil and Edna kept her skirt well up so it didn’t get any dirty street water on it. They went through a side door and Anna led her with unerring accuracy to a small side room. Aunt Ida was already there.
“The beautiful bride! You are looking like the Snow Maiden in this dress. Here, let me help you with the jewelry.”
Ida had gone to Alfie’s jewelry store to pick out her bridal pieces. When Edna reminded her she wasn’t supposed to wear any jewelry under the chuppah, Ida had flapped her hand and said the bride of Alfie Solomons would wear what she liked.
Ida put a three-stranded long necklace over her head. The tiny silver links were studded with groups of three pearls and then a small diamond. The longest strand reached the bottom of her ribs. Then she pinned on the long silver, diamond-studded earrings with the big pearl drops hanging off the ends. “Just beautiful,” Ida repeated when she was done.
Ida and Anna carefully shook the veil out and put it on her head. Anna fluffed it out and made sure it hung evenly while Ida secured it with the wreath of silk snow drops hanging off a green circlet on top of her head.
Anna had tears in her eyes and pressed her fingertips to her mouth and shook her head, like she shouldn’t say whatever she was thinking. She finally lowered them and looked Edna in the eye. “You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen, and my sister was the loveliest girl on our street once upon a time.”
Ida nodded. “It’s true. My little puppy has become a man to have fallen in love with a woman like you.” She kissed Edna’s cheek through her veil. “I will be seeing you out there. I must sit with my children.”
“Thank you,” Edna said as Ida smiled and waved on her way out the door.
Anna said, “I’ll be taking my seat now, miss. I shall make sure that Shelby man and his wife are on their way.”
***
Alfie let Ollie and Leah kiss his cheek before they left him to stand beneath the chuppah with Rabbi Levitt.
He wished his palms weren’t so sweaty. He wished his heart wasn’t racing like he was a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf. He was actually very happy, so why did he feel like the schmuck tied to the train track, feeling the vibrations of a big black engine shrieking its way toward him? He was almost as terrified as he was after waking from one of his nightmares about the war, or his mother’s drawn out death.
He looked at Aunt Ida and his little cousins to steady himself. Keep it together, Alfie, there’s a good lad, he heard his old boss say in his head and he stood a little straighter.
Of course, it didn’t help that Tommy fucking Shelby’s eyes were on him like an icy blue searchlight. Even if he didn’t quite dare look at the Shelby family sitting all together (except Arthur, who had declined the invitation, and John and his wife, who were about to walk Edna into the room), their eyes pricked at him like needles. It’s not like he had imagined this wedding would turn into something so real. It’s not like he had ever made promises to Tommy. Not like Tommy would have accepted any such promises, anyway, so there was no point ruminating on it.
The doors opened and there she was.
John smirked beside her and Esme had her sphinx-like smile on, but Alfie couldn’t see anything other than Edna’s beautiful face, covered by a sheer veil that fell all the way to her feet. It was something almost funny that when she had first entered the bedroom in her white nightgown, he had thought of what she would look like in her wedding dress. Now he almost felt like this was any other night, that she was coming to him in a more complicated version of her nightgown and he would hold her for as long as he could. Her hair was in a low twist, her lips a dark pink and her eyes were dark and sparkling. Fuuuuuck, he was done for. Someone might as well just shoot him right now, maybe Tommy could be prevailed on to do the honors because he was never going to be the same again. Like stepping off the train after the war, or the first time he’d killed a man, but this time the change was definitely for the better. Fucking hell, without even realizing it, he had fallen in love with her.
John and Esme kissed Edna’s cheeks and she stepped up beside him under the chuppah. He smiled at her and she beamed back brilliantly, her eyes shining with tears, her cheeks pink even beneath the makeup. He tried to keep his face neutral as she walked in a circle around him three times. Every time she walked in front of him, he saw her almost bare shoulders, the sheen of her hair beneath the veil, and dissolved into helpless longing.
They signed the ketubah and Ollie stepped up to sign as a witness. Alfie couldn’t help himself, he had to touch her, had to ground himself in reality somehow, and put his arm around Edna’s waist as one of his men from the bakery signed as the second witness. He could kiss her right now, tradition be damned. Then Alfie was handed a fountain pen and he signed. He had let Ollie pick the ketubah designer and was pleased to see they had done a good job. The document was illuminated with two trees, their branches intertwined over the words, two lovebirds sitting next to each other in the middle. He noticed Edna’s hand shook as she signed.
The rabbi read the words, something about his obligations to her, but he couldn’t listen. Edna was still smiling up at him like he’d hung the moon. He realized he was smiling back at her. He wished they hadn’t invited anyone. How could he face his men after smiling like a goon in front of them all? Perhaps it was all right, in light of the fact that it was his wedding day. And who could resist that shy smile, those brown eyes turned up to his in trust, those pink cheeks that he knew were softer than anything? He’d defy anyone to stand beneath a chuppah with her and remain stoic.
The rabbi finished reading the ketubah and handed it to Alfie. He in turn tried to hand it to Edna, but her veil was too long. She had to lift it enough that she could take the document, her hand still shaking. Anna stepped up and took it and Alfie resisted the urge to take Edna’s trembling hand and kiss it. After this part of the ceremony they would have twenty minutes alone. He looked away from Edna, afraid he might completely disgrace himself and frighten the rabbi to death if he thought of the yichud right now.
Rabbi Levitt blessed the wine and Alfie took a drink. Edna had kept her hand free from the veil and took the cup beneath it to drink before handing it off to Anna. Alfie took a ring out of his suit pocket and placed it on Edna’s finger, above the sparkling engagement ring he had given her after that disastrous meeting with her aunt and uncle. She smiled at him, and somehow he knew she was thinking of the same thing and able to laugh about it now, as she slid a ring onto his finger.
The rabbi started to recite the Sheva Brachot and Alfie wished he would just hurry the fuck up. Edna ducked her head and looked away from him and Alfie felt almost exposed, like she had read his mind. When she looked up at him again, her eyes sparkling and her lips twitching, he knew she had. He felt his ears go warm and wished he could have worn his father’s hat as some form of protection. The kippa simply didn’t cover enough.
He had thought about asking Aunt Ida to recite one of the seven blessings but was glad he hadn’t. Every second they had to stand here waiting to be man and wife, Alfie felt a little more of his sanity slip away. He didn’t have all that much to spare, really.
Finally, the fucking schvitzer was finished. They drank again from a glass of wine. Ollie handed him a glass wrapped in a handkerchief and Alfie put it on the ground. He stomped down on it with his right foot and didn’t even hear the cheering around him, too busy pulling up Edna’s veil, finding her lips with his and giving her as chaste a kiss as he could manage, loathe to mess up her makeup. Sweet fucking girl that she was, she threw her arms around him and held on tight as he smelled her hair and held a hand to the small of her back.
He had a wife. And despite his many sins, his wife was Edna, who might actually be an angel. The smell of apple blossoms hung around his face as he breathed deeply.