Birmingham Lass, Camden Girl
Alfie Solomons X Reader
I was born and bred in Birmingham, like a fucking horse, but I don’t know whether it’s my home. You’ve heard the whole, ‘I was best friends with the Shelby’s’ thing before. I know you have. But no, we weren’t best friends, we were siblings. You’ll notice the use of ‘were’ and not 'are’ to describe my affiliation with the Shelby family. If I’m honest, I see them as my past now, because I don’t want them to be my present. Maybe that’s harsh and goes against the so called 'Shelby Way’ like we’re some kind of fucking royalty. But I don’t care because, our family was ruined by my brothers. They soiled our name and made it synonymous with fear and violence. If I told anyone I was a Shelby they’d think I was there to kill them.
Thomas is to blame. I blame him, I always have and always will. If he had not taken on that shipment of guns, none of this would have happened. If he hadn’t fallen for that Irish spy a lot of bad things also wouldn’t have happened to us. But no, Thomas dug our family’s grave but refused to lay in it. He made the rest of us lay in it instead.
It should have been me running the business. It would have been clean without any murder. I’m older than Tommy and more sane than Arthur. I’m the second eldest but I wasn’t even considered as the leader of the business. Even Polly didn’t support me and Ada was fucking Freddie Thorne so that didn’t help. As soon as Tommy told me about the guns, I hit him right round the face and walked off angrily. He never apologised or even really talked to me about it again off his own accord. Either way, I knew from that moment on that he wasn’t to be trusted.