Devil | A Solomons

SIXTEEN - CAMBRIDGE

"Where are we? It's freezing, start the engine again."

Irina was sat in the passenger seat of Alfie's car, her fur coat huddled around her like a thick blanket, rain still blowing in the wind that hadn't softened all day.

After slipping away from the funeral unnoticed, Irina took Alfie up on his offer of driving her back down to London. They left almost immediately, both of them feeling slightly guilty about abandoning such an event, but soon forgot about it once they were on the road.

Alfie had pulled over once they reached a town that most definitely wasn't London. Irina hadn't been paying any attention to her surroundings on the journey and once the sun had set, she was even more clueless as to where she was.

She had been listening to Alfie talk the entire time, which she didn't mind. Irina wasn't one to overshare, or share at all, really. The fact that Alfie seemed to be the polar opposite put her at ease, not being irked by the feeling of heavy awkward silences as there seemed to be no such thing in Alfie's world, always having something interesting to say.

"You're hungry, come on."

Alfie held out his hand for Irina to take as he helped her down from the car. She reluctantly took it, glaring at him in the darkness.

"How do you know if I'm hungry or not?"

Alfie scoffed, letting go of her hand and setting off walking in the direction of glowing orange lights not too far away from the car.

"Your stomach's been growling for the last fifteen miles, louder than the bloody engine. Hurry up, it's cold."

Irina ran a couple of steps to catch up with him, carefully treading over uneven surfaces on the ground in her high heels.

They walked side by side over a small bridge and into a cosy village. It looked like Small Heath, only cleaner and warmer, inviting lights from pubs and houses, elderly couples walking arm in arm down the street with smiles on their faces. It felt peaceful, the sound of rushing water from the canals reminded her of what she heard every day at work, only without men shouting beneath her window.

"You haven't answered my question." Irina pressed, struggling to keep up with Alfie who took one step for every two that she did.

"Cambridge, darling. Looks nicer in the daytime, but still nicer than Small Heath in the dark," he made a left down a small side street and pushed open the door to a pub, holding it open for Irina, "After you."

She walked inside and instantly felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as the warmth burned her skin from the cold outside. She shivered, her cheeks feeling like a thousand pins were pricking her face for a moment before her body adjusted to the temperature.

Following Alfie over to a table, she handed him her coat and he hung them both up on a stand in the corner, sitting down opposite her.

"Mr Solomons! What a lovely surprise to see you here! And who is this?"

A gentleman dressed in a white shirt with a black apron tied around his waist and a checkered towel over his shoulder approached the table with a huge grin on his face, slapping Alfie affectionately on the shoulder.

"We were passing though in need of some food, you'll cook us up something nice now, won't you?" The two men shared a laugh and shook hands, Irina watching as Alfie's smile grew wider and his eyes brighter at the sight of his friend.

"Irina, this is my good friend Oliver Fischer. Oliver, this is Irina Zakharov. She likes expensive things so why don't you bring over the best bottle of champagne you've got, and two glasses?"