Cyril was gone and Alfie was beside himself. Of course, in typical Alfie fashion he was screaming at everyone in the bakery as though they had been the ones to personally lose Cyril, when in fact there was only one person responsible for that. Poor Ollie had been more than suitably reprimanded for his carelessness and stupidity, doing nothing more than standing and holding Alfie's eye while the bigger man screamed at him and called him every name under the sun.

"What possessed you to let him off the fuckin' lead?" Alfie asked incredulously for the tenth time in as many minutes. "You know he never listens to anyone but me when we're out and about, so what made you decide to do summit so stupid?"

"I couldn't help it, Alfie," Ollie answered. "We got into the park and he looked at me with those sad little eyes of his and I felt bad because I knew he wanted to have a run."

"Oh, well if he looked at you with those sad little eyes then I understand completely," Alfie said sarcastically.

"You do?" Ollie raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Course I fuckin' don't, you muppet," Alfie tutted, cracking Ollie around the head like one would a small child. "He gives me them eyes all the time and I don't let him do whatever he wants, so why the fuck would you?"

Ollie refrained from calling Alfie out as a complete and utter liar, because everyone in Camden knew that Alfie doted on his dog and did anything for him. Cyril only had to look at his master's dinner, for example, and Alfie would immediately lift the beast onto his knee and allow him to share whatever was on the plate.

"He'll come back, I'm sure of it," Ollie said.

"You'd best fuckin' hope so," Alfie growled, his finger right in Ollie's face. "Because if he's not back here by the end of the day, I'm gonna be sendin' you home to your wife in fuckin' pieces."

Ollie blanched at that. Whether or not Alfie was bluffing, Ollie couldn't be sure but the thought was enough to make his balls shrink up inside of themselves.

"Now get out of my fuckin' sight and find my dog."

…

Alfie let out a sigh and flung his pen down onto his desk. It was almost sunset and Cyril still hadn't been found. Men had been out searching all day but it was like the mutt had just disappeared into thin air. Cyril did have a habit of wandering off every now and then, but he always returned within an hour or so at most, and the furthest he ever ventured was down the road. But after a search of his usual spots and confirmation that nobody had seen him, Alfie couldn't help but worry. After all, the dog was more to him than just a pet. He was family. He meant the world to Alfie.

His mind whirred with all sorts of crazy theories, even going as extreme as to believe that Sabini might have dognapped Cyril in an attempt to get something from Alfie. The idea was far fetched, but right now he was beginning to clutch desperately at straws. The phone rang, distracting him from his thoughts and he answered with his usual gruffness.

"Alfred Solomons, still have jovial as ever, I see," a breathy feminine voice answered him. "Your dog's certainly a lot friendlier than you are, that's for sure."

"Who the fuck is this?" Alfie growled. "And why the fuck have you got my dog?"

The voice chuckled and Alfie's hand clenched tightly around the phone as his temper flared.

"Listen, you better not have hurt my dog cos when I find you I will tear you from limb to limb," he spat.

"Oh calm down, your dog is fine, you idiot."

"Who are you callin' an idiot?" Alfie scowled.

"Surely, you must know who it is by now, Alf?" the voice grew playful. "Or do you need a hint, maybe?"

Alfie frowned and his forehead wrinkled in concentration. The voice did sound somewhat familiar but he couldn't place it no matter how hard he tried.

"I'll give you a clue," he could hear the woman smile. "Do you remember when we were about twelve or thirteen and Mrs Abelson across the road went to stay with her sister for a couple weeks in the country? I was tasked with the very important job of feeding Buttons, the cat, or whatever his name was. You always used to come with me and one day you went snooping around the house and found a box with some rather revealing pictures of dear old Mrs Abe. And if I recall correctly, your eyes almost popped out of your head and you pocketed one of them cos the old bird didn't look too bad in her younger days according to you."

"And you threatened to squeal on me, not only to our mums, but to Rabbi Goldstein if I didn't pay you five bob and buy you a quarter of barley sugars?"

"So you do remember me, then?"

"Rachel Matthews, like I could fuckin' forget you," Alfie grinned and leaned back in his chair, winding the phone wire around his finger. "What the fuck are you doin' back round these parts? I thought you left for some hoity toity job up in Liverpool?"

"Yeah, I did," she answered with a snort. "But after four years it turned out I actually missed Camden quite a bit so I came home."

"And found my dog in the process?"

"In my defence, he found me," Rachel argued. "He came bounding up to me when I was walking through the park and followed me all the way home. I didn't realise he was yours until about half an hour ago when I popped out to the shops to find some food for him. I overheard one of your men talking about it. Very distressed he said you were. Apparently, you were being a right bastard to everyone all because of some dog."

"That's what he said, eh?" Alfie stroked his beard and narrowed his eyes. "What did he look like this bloke?"

"Ha, like I'm going to tell you," Rachel scoffed. "I thought it was a funny notion at first. After all, the Alfie Solomons I knew wouldn't let himself get saddled with a dog let alone develop feelings for one, but given your reaction when I phoned, I see that miracles do happen. I can't say I blame you, he's really very sweet. Well, once you get past all the slobbering and farting anyway."

"Yeah, that's Cyril," Alfie chortled. "So, you thinkin' of keepin' him or can I have him back at some point soon? I miss the little bugger, yeah?"

"Hmm," Rachel pretended to think for a moment. "I suppose you can have him back if you really insist, although I am going to miss the little scamp myself."

"Well, how about I make you a deal, right?" Alfie lowered his voice. "You keep him until I finish work for the day and then I'll come and collect him?"

"You've got yourself a deal… But I only if you bring barley sugars as well."

"You can have every last one in the shop, love."

…

The small downstairs flat Rachel had been renting for the past few weeks was only a short walk from the park, and when Ishmael dropped Alfie off outside at the end of the day, he quickly sent the young lad away. With his hat tipped low upon his head and his cane clanking up the path, the front door swung open just as Alfie reached a hand out to knock.

"Well aint you a sight for sore eyes?" he grinned.

Truthfully, he didn't know how he had managed to get any words out because he was fairly certain he was in the presence of a living angel, and his brain was suddenly feeling all strange and fuzzy at the sight of her. He always thought she was a pretty looking thing, but his memory had forgotten just how beautiful she actually was. Auburn hair the colour of a chestnut mare he'd once seen at a travelling fair, and eyes that were so dark they looked like a person could fall into them and get lost forever.

He wasn't prepared when she leapt forward and threw her arms around him, but he most certainly wasn't complaining when he felt her soft, feminine curves against his much harder body. He grunted as he kept himself upright and wrapped his arms around her.

"Still as heavy as a lump, aint ya?" he teased, setting her down gently back onto her feet.

"Bastard," she slapped him playfully on the arm, before breaking out into a wide smile. "You're looking old, Alf. It's all the grey in the beard, I think."

"Cheeky fuckin' bugger," Alfie narrowed his eyes playfully. "First you steal my dog, then you assault me on the doorstep and then fuckin' insult me fo all things! Your Mum needs to tan your fuckin' arse, love. You've lost all your manners while you've been up north with them scousers, aint ya?"

"I never had any to begin with," she winked and Alfie found himself grinning.

"Yeah, you ain't wrong there," Alfie agreed. "You gonna let me have my dog back now?"

As if right on cue, Cyril trotted towards the front door with his tail wagging excitedly. When he saw it was Alfie though, he came to an abrupt stop and tilted his head curiously.

"Hello mate," Alfie smiled, bending down to scratch his beloved pooch behind the ears. "What have I told you about runnin' off, you little sod. Had me worried all day, didn't ya? And Ollie's had a right bollockin' cos he lost ya."

"Ollie?" Rachel spoke. "Ollie Ziesmann? He's still working for you?"

"Ha, I wouldn't call it workin' exactly, seein' as I end up havin' to do most of his work for him," Alfie snorted. "Can't be trusted to do anythin' that one."

"Yet you've kept him around for what?…Seven years?" Rachel smirked.

"Well, what can I say?" Alfie shrugged. "I'm a sucker for tryin' to help the afflicted, aint I?"

"Oh of course," she smirked. "Alfie Solomons; such a pillar of society, aren't you?"

"Well what about you?" Alfie motioned towards the hallway of her apartment. "You're back in Camden and doin' what then?"

"Looking for a job currently," Rachel answered. "Got enough in savings to tide me over for a couple of months, but if I don't find something soon, I'm gonna have to go and live with Mum."

"And that would be terrible?" Alfie surmised, judging by her less than impressed tone.

"Abso-bloody-lutely," Rachel pulled a face. "Don't get me wrong, I adore the woman but I couldn't live with her again. I'd either get arrested for murder or end up in the loony bin."

"Fair enough," Alfie conceded. "Well, I might know of a secretarial position goin' at a very reputable establishment with great pay, and a boss who is not only handsome but also a right hoot from what I hear."

"Is that right?" Rachel smiled, her eyes twinkling. "And how might a girl go about applying for this job?"

"Oh that's easy enough," Alfie's own eyes twinkled back. "I'll have a word with this fella I know and if he approves then we can discuss your new job over dinner tomorrow."

"Dinner?" she raised an eyebrow. "And will it be just you and I at this dinner, or will my new boss be there too?"

"You'll have to wait and see, won't ya?" Alfie winked.

"Alfie Solomons, are you trying to get me out on a date," Rachel teased.

"Nah," he shook his head and took a step closer to her. "This is business, love, and I don't mix business and pleasure."

"How professional of you," Rachel commented, trying to ignore the way he was looking at her.

"But luckily you aint my employee yet, are you?" Alfie murmured, brushing his lips against hers softly.

Grinning, Rachel dragged him inside by the scruff of his coat and smashed her lips against his the seconds the front door was slammed shut behind them.

And as for what happened next? Well… that would be telling, wouldn't it?