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“My dear, sweet, Sybil.” Eleonora sighed, holding her twins hand in hers. “What will they do without you?” She continued to speak, “Dammit Sybie, What will I do without you?” She said through gritted teeth. “Come now Eleonora.” She heard her eldest sister, Mary’s voice. Eleonora looked up from her twins still form, “Why should I leave her?” Eleonora asked with tears in her eyes, not letting them fall. “It’s time to go, Eleonora.” Mary said with demand hidden in her voice. “No, I’ll leave her when I’m ready, thank you. Goodnight Mary.” Eleonora drew her eyes from her Eldest sister, to her twin. “Elle, I’m not in the mood for games with you right now. Come on.” Mary repeated herself. Eleonora shot up from her seat, her hand dropping Sybil’s in the process. Mary placed her hand upon her chest in fright.  “Good bye Mary.” Eleonora said without making eye contact with the other woman. “Good night.” Mary said, hand still pressed against her chest. 

“She loved you. More than anything to grace this Earth.” Eleonora said to the small bundle in her arms. “She loved you and your Daddy more than life itself.” she reassured, she wasn’t sure if she was assuring Tom, Sybil’s husband, or the baby girl she held. “Don’t do this Elle.” Tom said from the corner of the room. “I have no reason to stay.” She said to him, her fingers grazing the baby’s forehead in a motherly manner. Tom froze, watching her for a moment. “I’m not Sybil, Tom, I can’t replace her, no matter how much I look like her.” Eleonora said to him, “I didn’t say anything, yet-” “Yet. I am not Sybil. I will never be her, this will never be my child, and I will never love you like she did.” She said, meeting his gaze, “I’m leaving for London tonight.” Tom stared at her in awe. “But we can’t have a funeral for a few more days!” He exclaimed, “I won’t be attending.” She said solemnly, “You refuse to attend your sister’s Funeral?” Tom asked angrily, Eleonora crossed the room faster than Tom could register. “Who do you see when you look at me?” she seethed, through gritted teeth. “Who do you see Tom?” she repeated. “Sybil...” He sighed, “I can’t go knowing that every person who looks at me, will only see her ghost.” Eleonora sighed, “Goodbye, Tom.” She said, laying the now sleeping baby in her crib. “Give me a couple days head start before you turn me over to them.” She said, patting his shoulder as she made her way to the door. She was suddenly stopped by Tom pulling her back into him. “Just let me hold you. For just a moment.” He cried, “This is why I have to go.” Eleonora cried into his chest, “You are stronger than you think. You will be an amazing father Tom. Don’t let anyone take that from you. Sybil wouldn’t want anyone else to care for this baby. So don’t let her down Tom.” Eleonora said, pulling away from the embrace, Tom stared at her for a moment before making the sudden move to kiss her deeply, tears streaming down his cheeks unto Eleonora’s damp cheeks. “I love you.” He sighed, his eyes closed, forehead pressed to her’s. “I know.” She said sweetly. “Goodbye Tom.” She said, caressing his cheek. Before he could open his eyes, she slipped out of his grip and out the door. 

“Where do you think you’re goin?” A deep voice called to Eleonora, “Why do we know so many men with the same name.” Eleonora laughed dryly, “I’m leaving Thomas.” She answered. “What?” He stopped, pushing himself off of the stack he was leaning on. “W-why?” He asked in a shaky voice. “I can’t stand to be her Ghost.” She said honestly. “But-” his eyes shot around in worry, “Thomas, you will be fine, I promise. You are better than you allow yourself to be.” She said, looking up at him. “You two were my only real friends.” He said, “And I will remain your friend Thomas, just because I’m not at Downton anymore, doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.” She smiled warmly at him. He remained silent, he gave a curt nod, then engulfed her in a tight embrace. “Goodbye, Eleonora.” He said to her, causing tears to escape her eyes. “Goodbye Thomas.” She says, quickly turning away.

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“Eleonora!” Echoed the shrill call of Lady Painswick. “Yes, Auntie?” Eleonora called, from her seat in the library, looking up at her Aunt. “Has something occurred to cause such shrills so early in the day?” She asked with sarcastic venom dripping off her every word. Once Eleonora was found out, she was given the choice to come home to Downton, or stay with her Aunt in London, no longer than a year. “Tone, Eleonora.” Lady Painswick warned. Eleonora didn’t respond, she simply blinked and waited for her Aunt to continue. “Your time is up dearie.” Her Aunt began, taking a seat near her. “Bring our tea into the Library today Dotty.” She said to her maid, “Yes, M’Lady.” She gave a quick dip and hurried off. “You’re kicking me out already?” Eleonora asked, “I have five days before it’s been exactly a year.” She pointed out. “I refuse to be caught in the middle of this any longer. If you do not wish to return home, fine. You are an adult woman. But you can no longer live here, either.” She stated plainly. “You’re telling me to find a place in the next five days, or go home, is that it?” Eleonora asked, not bothering to hide her offence. “Yes, I cannot be caught in the middle of this crisis of yours any longer my Dear.” Lady Painswick explains. “You are a capable young woman, I’m sure you can find something to do with yourself.” She tried to encourage her. Eleonora just rolled her eyes, and excused herself. 

 “Where are you going, all done up?” Lady Painswick asked from her seat, looking up from her book. “I was told to do something with myself, while I have the freedom to do so.” Eleonora stated matter of fact-ly. “Now Eleonora, what have I said about your tone?!” Her Aunt angrily questioned. “My tone is airy, lady-like even. My words are venomous, my dear.” Eleonora bit back, “How anyone ever confused you for Sybil, I will never understand.” She muttered. “I am not Sybil. I’ve never claimed to be either.” She bit, “I won’t be back. Goodnight Auntie.” Eleonora said, shrugging on her coat, “Be safe, Eleonora, dear.” Her Aunt called, before the door closed. “I’ll try.” She sighed to herself. 

“Gin and Tonic please.” Eleonora said to the bartender. The club she found herself in was large, loud, and gold. “Whiskey.” A deep voice drones. Eleonora glaces up to meet the eyes of the owner of the voice. “Gin & Tonic for the lady, and a Whiskey for the gentleman.” Said the bartender. Eleonora’s eyes shift from the man’s to the bartender’s “I can buy my own drinks. Thank you. Separate tabs, please.” She informed him. He nodded and hurried off. “I wasn’t offering to buy you a drink.” Sounded the deep voice, Eleonora’s eyes fell on cool lakes of icy blue. “I wanted to make sure he knew that.” She said coolly, “Is that so?” He almost teased, “It is. Enjoy your night, Mr…” She drawled waiting for his name. “Shelby. Thomas Shelby.” He answered, causing Eleonora to laugh, “Every man I know seems to be named Thomas.” She chuckles. “Is that so?” He asks with a raised brow, and deadpan tone. “It’s an exaggeration actually.” She clarifies. He nods at her in slight surprise and gives a small fraction of a smile. “Call me Tommy.” He holds his hand out, “Eleonora. Eleonora Crawley. Elle for short.” She said, taking his hand in hers. “Not from London are you, Mrs. Crawley?” He asks, “Ms. actually, and no I am not. I’m originally from Yorkshire. And you? Mr. Shelby.” She inquired, “Birmingham.” He answered, “You can hear it a bit.” She smiles, “That so?” He answers, coolly. “Are you always so aloof?” she asks, Tommy was taken aback by her comment, but quickly regains composure. “Yes.” He answers. “Enjoy your evening Mr. Shelby.” Eleonora says, finishing her drink and walking away before Tommy could do or say anything. “Who’s the bird?” A voice booms from over Tommy’s shoulder, “Just a bird Arthur.” Tommy answered, “Ready Tom?” Arthur asks, “Hmm.” Tommy nods in response. 

“One room for the week please.” Eleonora requests of the clerk. “For whom might the lodging be for, Ma’am?” Eleonora rolls her eyes, “Lady Eleonora Crawley.” She states, deadpan. “Right aways Lady Crawley.” He says, writing things in a book, “Will this be billed to Downton Estate, or…?” He asks, “Send the bill to Lady Painswick, of London. I will have it paid by the end of the week.” She tells the little man, “Of course.” He smiles, smugly. “Would you like us to send up a maid?” The small man asks, “No, I am fully capable of dressing myself, thank you.” Eleonora states flatly. “Of course. Enjoy your evening Lady Crawley.” He nods again. Eleonora rolls her eyes, and heads up to her room. 

The next morning Eleonora woke early and requested a light breakfast, served in her room. When the young lady who brought her tray up found Lady Eleonora sat fully dressed on the fainting couch she was perplexed to say the least. “I prefer to have breakfast at the table.” Eleonora answered before the girl could ask. “I’ve never been fond of the idea of eating in bed.” She smiled at the girl. “Thank you.” She continued, the poor girl not once opening her mouth for a response. The girl left with a small smile and a nod before disappearing behind the door. Eleonora sat in thought for a while after the girl left. She pondered for a while, was she rude? Did she come off as short tempered? Maybe her breath stank. The questions were swirling around her mind nonstop.

RING. RING. The phone startled Eleonora from her thoughts. RING. RING. CLICK. “Hello?” Eleonora answered, “There is a call for you from a Mr. Thomas Shelby, Ma’am.” Sounded the smug voice of the short man from the front desk. “Will you be accepting the, Eh-hem, Gentleman’s call?” He asked, clearing his throat for emphasis on his unspoken opinion. “Yes, I will accept the call of Mr. Shelby. May you pass all of his calls through to my room directly.” Eleonora said, making it a point that she wasn’t a naive girl who didn’t know judgment was being passed on her. “Yes Ma’am.” he mumbled. CLICK, “Hello, Mr. Shelby?” Eleonora spoke, “Yes, Lady Eleonora Crawley, I presume.” He spoke, “Does my title bother you so much that once you found out you had to call and openly attempt to pass sly judgment on me?” She asked in an exasperated sigh. Tommy froze for a moment. He wasn’t used to people, especially women, speaking to him the way she did, let alone a proper Lady at that. “No, M’lady.” He huffed, taking a long drag of his cigarette on the other end of the line. “Please, call me Eleonora. I’m not Lady anything anymore. Just tell me what you want, and why you feel the need to pester me after only meeting once.” she spoke coolly, and uninterested. This continued to annoy and baffle Tommy. “I was calling to invite you to dinner.” He spoke, his walls faltering for a moment, his voice came through soft. This set Eleonora back a step, “I would very much enjoy dinner with you, Mr. Shelby.” She smiled down the line. “Just, Tommy.” He informed her. “I would like that very much,... Tommy.”

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Eleonora hung up the phone, a shy smile painted on her lips. “What am I going to wear?” She asked herself out loud, going to her wardrobe she decided on a personal favourite, a beautiful evening wear that Sybil had specially made for the two of them. Tommy had sent a car around to pick Eleonora up and take her to their place of meeting. A very large, over done restaurant, owned by Darby Sabini.

Stepping out of the car, Eleonora didn’t bother waiting for Tommy or the chauffeur to assist her. She went straight in and intended on waiting for Tommy inside. 

“May I assist you?” Asked a fairly round man, at a podium, “Yes, I’m waiting to meet someone, may I seat myself near the bar while I wait?” Eleonora asks the man politely. “And whom are you waiting for, miss?” the man asks, eyeing Eleonora disapprovingly. “My date.” She answered vaguely. “We do not allow women of your nature to sit idly in our establishment!” The man scolds Eleonora, causing her to laugh out loud. “Women of my nature?” She giggled, “And what is my nature sir?” she inquires, giggling. “A Perverse Nature!” the man shouts, visibly frustrated, “I thought Italians loved Perverse Natured Women .” Eleonora shrugged her arms, with a sarcastic chuckle. “Why, you filthy whore!-” The man suddenly made swift contact with the end of a cane, and soon after the floor. “Never insult a woman of such beauty, Mate, ‘s ungentlemanly.” A deep cockney accent sounds out, causing Eleonora to gasp out at the sudden violence. “‘S alright love, not gonna bite.” The man chuckles. Eleonora turns, her eyes meeting those of an ocean gem in colour, “I’m sorry, I was taken aback.” She says breathlessly. The man who so violently came to her rescue is nearly blinded by her beauty, his mouth twitches into a small smile. “Thank you, Mr~?” she waits for him to give his name, “Let’s leave it at Thanks, love.” the violent hero smirks, “Please, let me thank you,” Eleonora pleads kindly, “I’m so grateful to your… unconventional means.” She giggles, “Perhaps I could buy you a drink, while I wait for my escort to arrive?” She offers. “Nah, don’t touch the stuff, love.” He declines, tipping his wide brimmed hat and leaving. Eleonora stands speechless, almost in awe of the man with unconventional ways.

The night continues on, and Thomas Shelby has officially stood Eleonora up. She leaves the restaurant feeling defeated and silly. She needs to figure our what to do with herself before the week is out, or she’ll be forced to return home. Deciding to walk back to her lodgings rather than take Tommy’s car, Eleonora begins the long, mostly peaceful trek. A strange feeling of being watched sneaks into Eleonora’s senses, frightening her. The lamp posts cast a spattered, yet eerie glow along the street edge. 

“Well, if it isn’t the whore who stirred up trouble at Sabini’s.” a gruff voice sounds from behind Eleonora, causing her to turn in the direction of the voice. “Seems our little whore is available at the moment. How about a free round for all the trouble you caused tonight, huh?” the voice asks, with weighted strength, hiding in the shadows, “I’m not a whore! I didn’t start any trouble!” Eleonora swivelled around trying to spot the owner of the voice. “Stop hiding!” Eleonora shouts, her voice trembling. The thought of not knowing where he is terrifies Eleonora. The man swiftly emerges from the shadows, grabbing Eleonora’s hair and quickly pinning her to the ground, shoving her face in the dirt. “Get off of me!” She screams, feeling his hands trying to get underneath her complex outfit. Fighting out of his grasp, her hair is still tangled in his hand forcing her back. He wraps a hand around her throat, while removing the other from her hair and gripping her collar tightly, tearing the fabric away from her body, exposing her undergarments and navel. “NO!” She screams, rearing her head back making swift contact with her attacker's nose. A satisfying Crack sounds through the empty street. Almost shoving Eleonora away from him, the man tumbles back grabbing at his face, swearing curses loudly.

“Fucking Whore!” He lunges at Eleonora as she tries to scamper away, tackling her to the ground once more. The man rips and tears at Eleonora’s clothes, while she claws and thrashes, trying to escape once more. Tears stream down her face, her screams become horse, her body aching, her vision blurs. Not once does she stop fighting against the man, even after he slips over, unmoving, she scrambles to her feet, panting, crying, scared. Another set of men emerge from the shadows, frightening Eleonora. She stumbles to get away fumbling and tripping. Falling into a hard yet warm embrace, “NO! Please, No!” She cries pushing away from the person holding her, “SHH~ ‘s alright love, yer safe, yeah. Yer safe.” a familiar voice coos roughly. “You…?” Eleonora breathes, looking up at the man holding her in a stiff embrace. “Me.” He nods, not making eye contact with her. “Did he hurt you?” He asks, she scoffs, but shakes her head, ‘No’. Despite the cuts and bruises she understands the question on a deeper level. “No.” she says, her last ounce of strength pours into the small word. A triumphant smile grows on her saviour’s lips. “Good.” he nods, his arms wrapped around Eleonora, his face forward, eyes deadly. “Yer staying at mine.” He tells her, not meeting her gaze. And to everyone's surprise, she says, “Alright. But will you tell me your name? Please?” She doesn’t push away from his hold, instead she clings to his coat tighter, her eyes looking up at his stern distant features through thick, damp, lashes. 

“Alfie.” he says, “Thank you, Alfie.” She says weakly, holding his coat firmly in her hands. “Thank you, Alfie.” she repeats, tears begin cascading down her flushed cheeks, “Thank you, Alfie.” she cries into him, clinging tighter with every ‘Thank you…’ she cries. Not once does Alfie pull away, or push Eleonora off of him. He just holds her, and looks onward, not once looking away from the unconscious Italian laying in the street. 

Eventually, Eleonora passes out from exhaustion, giving way for Alfie to carry her home, to his.

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Eleonora wakes from a long and yet uncomfortable sleep. A loud sigh of discomfort passes her lips, as she sits up with a groan. The duvet cover slid off her to reveal her bruised chest and clean dressing gown. 

No undergarments, a clean nightgown, soft cotton sheets, and a simple lilac coloured dress hanging half folded over the back of a chair on the other side of the room. “Where… am I?” Eleonora asks herself out loud. Eleonora exits the bed, and goes to dress herself. Starring in the mirror near the wardrobe, Eleonora is mesmerised by the cuts and bruises adorning her chest, shoulders, and jawline. The disturbing colour and sheer amount is enough to make Eleonora feel light headed. She sighs, and presses the wide lapel collar flat against her collar bones, leaving the room. 

Eleonora cautiously begins making her way down a flight of stairs just across from her room. The stairs end in the fourier, to the right is a beautifully masculine office, with shelves upon shelves of books lining the walls, a large oak desk positioned in the far left corner, a globe nearest the desk, and a deep turquoise and oak sofa sitting perfectly before a red brick fireplace. Staring into the office made Eleonora think of Downton, her father sitting in the library with a strong drink with little to no water added. A sad smile graces her lips. 

Across from the office is a comfortable looking breakfast table, and large open kitchen. What Eleonora assumes to be Alfie sitting at the table with his back to her, reading through the daily news paper. He’s wearing an oversized white cotton shirt, and dark black pants, several gold rings adorning his fingers. A tattoo on the back of his hand, near his thumb catches her attention. “Yer gonna burns holds into me if ya keep starin.” Alfie chuckles, not bothering to look behind him. Eleonora clears her throat, and in a raspy voice, shyly says, “Good morning.” Not yet leaving the entryway. Alfie turns, half facing her in his seat. Half moon spectacles perch on the end of his nose, causing a small smile to spread over Eleonora’s lips, finding a sense of comfort in his gaze. 

“Come on, sit down.” Alfie gestures to the table. “Thank you, Alfie.” Eleonora says, sitting in the space nearest him. Hearing her repeat the haunting sentence from last night made Alfie physically shiver. He keeps his eyes on her as she sits in the vacant seat beside him. 

“I never told you my name, did I?” She asks, “‘s alright, pet, I already know who you are.” Alfie says smugly, looking back at his newspaper. “My men tell me, yer a noble lady from Yorkshire.” He says gruffly, almost irritated by her status. “Yes, I am Lady Crawley, of Downton Abbey in Yorkshire.” Eleonora answers, feeling an indescribable pain in her chest. “Yeah, but which one are you? Eh?” Alfie scoffs, covering a faint chuckle with faux disdain, “Are you Sybil or Eleonora? Ain’t one of you married?” He chastises, “Sybil is dead.” Eleonora calmly seethes through tightly gritted teeth, “Has been for nearly a year now, her widower is Tom Branson, and her daughter-” She stops, “What did Tom name her daughter…?” She asks herself, turning her gaze from the back of his paper to the surface of the table. This takes Alfie back. But his quick wit has his lips moving again in no time. “Eleonora, or should I call you m’lady?” Alfie asks, setting his paper down, looking right at her. Eleonora laughs before making direct eye contact with Alfie. “Elle. if you’d please.” she gives a distant smile. Alfie nods in acknowledgement. “Thank you, Alfie.” She repeats the haunting sentence once more, this time noticing when Alfie shivers ever so slightly.

 “Thank you, for everything you’ve done for me, but, please, don’t ever bring Sybil up to me again.” She pleads with her violent saviour. “Right, yeah, never again.” He nods, not bothering to argue with her. “Thank you, Al-” “Right, how are you gonna repay my kindness, eh?” Alfie interrupts, not wanting to hear the haunting words escape her lips. “W-what?” Eleonora stammers, an ill feeling rises in her chest, “Well, you see, Elle. I’m a business man, a very busy business man, I can’t be spending all my time havin’ tea and fucking crumpets, yeah? So, how do you plan on repaying my limited kindness?” He asks again, in a swift confusing manner no less. “I-I don’t know, b-but please, I-” She continues stuttering, “Calm yourself, pet, I’m a sick fucking bastard, Yeah, I’m not that Fucking sick. Now, what can you offer a businessman with limited kindness and a shortening temper, eh?” Alfie asks again, clearing Eleonora’s ill mannered thoughts. “Ahem, I know shorthand and how to use a typewriter, I can read in four different languages and speak five. I’m well organised and punctual.” She lists off, “Right, yeah. Elle, eat something and be off yeah? I don’t like bein late, pet.” Alfie says in a huff, Eleonora blinks, and makes herself a buttered piece of toast, and eats in comfortable silence.

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Alfie would sneak quick glances at Elle seeing the bruises and cuts adorning her delicate form pisses him off, and he doesn’t understand entirely why. She may be young, much younger than him, and beautiful, possibly the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, but why does he feel the need to take on this burden? Why go through all the trouble to care for her? Move her into his home? What the hell is wrong with him? He keeps asking himself why, with absolutely no answer at hand. Alfie very suddenly jolts upright, leaving the kitchen table while mumbling about time and being ‘Fucking nutters’. Elleonora quickly follows behind Alfie, not knowing why or where she is going. “U-um… Alfie?” She calls quietly to him, “What?” He snaps, “I-I’m sorry, I just… What I mean is, um… Wh-where are we-Oof!” Elleonora lets out a high pitch squeak and her bum makes hard contact with the floor after bumping into Alfie’s firm back. “I’m sorry Alfie-!” Elleonora is quickly cut off by Alfie’s booming laugh, “It’s not funny!” She squeaks, Causing Alfie to chuckle a bit more, “Right, listen love, you’re gonna need to toughen up if yer gonna be working for me, yeah?” He says seriously, but a small smirk lingers on his lips as he speaks. “Work for you?” She asks, “ ‘less you have other means to pay for room and board, not to mention my kindness is on a fucking meter yeah?” He lets out another booming laugh at his own joke, “You mean, I’m staying with you?” Elleonora asks, surprised. “…Stay with him…” she whispers to herself, a small smile etching itself onto her lips, Alfie feigns ignorance, pretending not to have heard her excitement, “If yer gonna be working for me, yeah? I’ll need ya with me, won’t I?” He says smugly, “‘less ya gotta go runnin home to yer butler ‘nd whatnot.” he says animatedly waving his hand about. Elle laughs loudly at his quip, surprising Alfie, and causing a small smirk to dance over his lips. “You’re rather witty, Alfie.” Elle says giggling. “Oh!-” She shouts, surprising herself and Alfie, “But, does that mean I need to call you, ‘Sir’?” She asks, looking up through thick lashes straight into Alfie's pale silver green eyes. An explicit image flashed in Alfie’s mind for a brief moment. 

“Mr. Solomons ‘ll do, Yeah.” He corrected her, with a quiet, yet stern tone, “Yes, Sir.” Eleonora sighs, breathily. Alfie felt a twist in his lower belly, causing him to clear his throat and shake his head. “Right, yeah, let’s get goin’ then love.” He says turning away and waving a hand dismissively. 

“Where are we going?” Eleonora reiterates, “To me bakery.” Alfie says over his shoulder, while walking in front of Eleonora down the sidewalk. “You’re a baker?” Eleonora asks, not believing Alfie’s profession. “Listen, pet, the less questions ya ask, the better, yeah?” says Alfie. “I don’t understand what a baker needs more for?” Eleonora questions. “Yer me secretary, pet. I run and own the business and you work for me, takin’ notes, and whatever-the-fuck else secretaries do.” Alfie says crudely.

“You’re a rather crass man, aren’t you, Mr. Solomons?” Eleonora asks, her tone full of disobedience. Causing another Explicit image to rush through Alfie’s mind, causing him to respond with a deep grunt.

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“Mornin’ Alfie.” Greeted a tall man with short dark hair, falling into step with Alfie. Leading the way into a large building. Eleonora, close behind them. “Sabini’s men have been causing trouble, and Burmmies are makin’ a move into London-” Alfie’s hand shot up to stop the man from speaking further, “Ollie, mate, this is me new secretary Eleonora.” Alfie gestured behind himself, to Eleonora, showing Ollie to be more wary of his surroundings. “I’ve never seen her ‘round Camden before Alf.” Ollie states dumbfounded, “Right, yeah, cause she ain’t from Camden, mate. Not from London, yeah, just fucking look at ‘er, eh? No, don’t fuckin ogle her, Ollie!” He shouts, frustrating himself, causing Elle to giggle. “What’s so fuckin funny, eh?” He huffs, “ Ahem , Nothing, Sir.” Eleonora smirks, tilting her head down but looking up through her long thick lashes, causing a third ill mannered image to rush through Alfie’s mind as he locked eyes with Eleonora, his gaze quickly flickered to her lips, as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to hide her amused smile.

Alfie practically glared at Eleonora out of frustration with himself. “Ollie, show Ms. Crawley to my office.” Alfie instructed sternly, “Ah- But Alf-!” Ollie started, “You fuckin’ deaf mate?! Take her to the fuckin’ office Ollie! Ya gone off ya head, eh? Fuck safe Ollie, the fuckin room with a fuckin desk mate!” Alfie shouts. Eleonora flinches at his booming voice, causing Alfie’s gaze to soften for a brief moment. 

Alfie doesn’t speak any further, he just storms off in the direction of which they came. “I’m sorry,” Eleonora says, sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble for you.” Eleonora says to Ollie, “Thanks, but, ‘s alright Miss. It’s just the way the boss talks, ya know?” Ollie sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “I suppose you’re right.” She sighs in agreement.

Eleonora follows behind Ollie to a small room in the bakery, “I know it’s not ‘is office, but there is someone waitin to meet with Alf- Er- Mr. Solomons, and it would be safest if ya waited in ‘ere instead, ya know?” Ollie says while rubbing the back of his neck, nervously. “I understand, I think, thank you. Will you come fetch me when they’ve gone? Please.” Eleonora says in an understanding tone. With a curt nod Ollie leaves. 

After several minutes of humming nonsense to herself, Eleonora hears voices approaching, hopeful it’s Ollie or Alfie. Her hopes quickly turn to disappointment, as two men enter the room she was left alone in.

“Well, well, well, look what we found ‘ere, Markus, a lost little bird.” one of the men chuckled darkly. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doin’ in a dank place like this, eh?” asked the other man, “I’m waiting for Mr. Solomons.” Eleonora spoke confidently, hoping his name held as much weight as he seemed to think it did. “Mr. Solomons stepped out, little birdy.” Chuckled one of the men, “Wouldn’t want the boss’ whore to go to waste, would we Markus?” Suggested one of the men, making Eleonora back away in fear.

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“Come ‘ere sweet ‘art, we just wanna show ya a good time!” Says the more talkative man, “The boss’ll ‘ave yer balls for this Jakub.” Markus says, glancing around the room, nervously. “Then fuck off, and I’ll have her m’self.” Jakub says, shoving Markus away from himself. “Stay away from me!” Eleonora shouts, hoping Alfie or someone would come to her aid, “No point in shoutin’, love, no one cares.” He says, shrugging his shoulders. “If no one cared, you wouldn’t be looking over your shoulder for Alfie.” Eleonora says, trying to gauge the man’s reactions. “He ain’t ‘ere love, ain’t got nothing to fear.” He says taking a few steps closer, arms outstretched to emphasise his confidence.
“Be a good girl, yeah, and get on yer knees.” He demands, causing a fearful chill to run down Eleonora’s spine, “Hey Markus, fuck off yeah? ‘Less you wanna watch her suck my cock!” Jakub laughs a dark booming laugh. Markus makes quick eye contact with Eleonora before leaving the room. “Guess it’s just us lovely.” He smirks, shrugging his arms and then quickly undoing his trousers. “On ya fuckin knees.” He demands, “I’m not a bloody whore! Suck your own cock!” Eleonora shouts, throwing the nearest things to her, at the man. “If a man says yer a fuckin whore, yer a fuckin whore!” He shouts.
Suddenly he closes the gap between them, and shoves Eleonora into the wall behind them. “Ya don’t get love bites from not fuckin ‘round.” He says while wrapping a hand around her neck, tilting her jaw upwards. “They’re bruises, you fool.” She chokes outs, grabbing at his wrist with both her hands, “You talk too much.” He says, tightening his grip around her throat.
Tears begin to well up in Eleonora’s eyes, and she kicks and claws at her attacker. Her vision becomes blurry. Her urge to escape escalates, and she digs her nails into his skin as deep as she can, drawing blood. “Fuckin Bitch!” Jakub yells, releasing her from his grasp, allowing Eleonora to take a deep breath.
“I’ll teach ya how to lay and fuckin take it!” Jakub shouts again, lunging at Eleonora, who quickly evades him. “I’m not a whore! I’m a bloody Secretary!” She shouts, hoping to get through to her attacker, “Not a fuckin chance Alfie ain’t fuckin ya! Never let a woman in ‘ere he wasn’t shagging!” Yelled Jakub.
“W-what?” Eleonora stammers, pausing her movements from the shock, allowing Jakub the opportunity he needed. Eleonora screams, as her body makes hard contact with the floor, and her attacker’s weight lays into her. “Get. Off. Me.” Eleonora struggles further, “If he hasn’t had ya yet, I’ll take ya now!” He yells, pulling her dress up and holding her down.
A loud crash sounds through the room, surprising both Eleonora and her attacker. Eleonora seizes the moment to scamper away from the man, Jakub. THWACK. A disturbing sound of metal and bone making firm contact rings out.
Alfie towers over Jakub, the handle of his cane dripping blood. Eleonora scurries to get behind Alfie, the safest place in the room.
"A-alfie-!" Stutters Jakub, "S'only foolin 'round, boss." Jakub tries to play off, spitting out a bloody tooth. "Ain't your's to be foolin 'round with, is she?! Is she your fuckin secratary? No! She fuckin ain't! So tell me, why the fuck you foolin round with what ain't Fuckin yours! Eh?" Alfie practicalls screams.

Despite the frightening site before Eleonora, the one thing that stands out to her, is being referred to as someone’s belonging. A trophy to be won, and set on the shelf. What she had just experienced was traumatising to say the least, yet, she still feels a twinge in her heart. ‘How disappointing’ she thought to herself.
Alfie struck Jakub several times, while Eleonora kept her sight from the gruesome scene. Markus, the man who originally accompanied Jakub, stood beside the doorway, with his head bowed, “I tried to find the boss as quickly as possible. I’m sorry, Miss.” he said in a defeated tone, “Thank you.” was all Eleonora said, as she made her way out of the room, the smell of blood making her feel faint.
Eleonora found her way outside of the building, taking deep breaths to soothe herself. “How did I let this happen?” She questioned herself, shaking her head. She bowed her head and sighed, “And here I thought I could handle the world outside Downton…” She whispered to herself. “The world outside isn’t some fairytale, miss.” Voiced Ollie, standing not too far from Elle, “And the world you ‘appen to fall into, ain’t something you can prepare yerself for miss.” Eleonora nods, beginning to understand that she might have bit off more than she could chew.
“Let me take you to Mr. Solomons’ office, Miss.” Ollie side steps to allow Eleonora entrance.