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boogiewrites · 5 years

Text

Choking On Sapphires 89

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Title & Song: Bad Company

Summary: Genevieve begins standing up for herself and others with her new found sense of self. Alfie sits back and enjoys the show.

Warnings/Tags: Language. References to assault and violence.Verbal fighting.

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Alfie and Genevieve were working again, and more importantly, working as one cohesive unit. Still light with his affections, trying to appreciate the subtle physical affection between them that was backed with a more mature and solid love behind it nowadays.

They focused on tone and respect, checking in on each other and being understanding of the others space and feelings. Gen found herself enjoying her time with Alfie more now that she was spending less with him. She had time to paint and think again, two things she had sorely needed more of in her life to get herself straight again. She was figuring out who this new woman was, and how she fell into place with Alfie and who he was at this juncture. It led to more confidence, better communication and a deeper intimacy outside of sex for them. Which at Alfie's age his back and hips truly appreciated.

They talked with tea and biscuits before bed every night. A rundown of the day and the questions and concerns it brought them putting it all away with the China when no more could be done for it. In turn the lack of talking led to more tenderness, small kisses and strokes as they wound down together, Genevieve letting her guard down only for him most days now. It let her feel cared for and safe as he’d wrap her up and hold her close as she fell asleep and it gave him the protective and providing feelings he needed as a man. They were evening each other out, finding their new roles within the relationship and the pieces were beginning to fall into place.

———

With a pin-straight posture and the newest in women's business wear from Paris, a treat to herself for her recent successes, Genevieve sits perched on a wooden chair that must be as old as the school building itself for how uncomfortable it was. She sits across the long banquet table in the great hall from a man who could also be considered dated and out of fashion, the same as his surroundings. There was only one other woman in the group for instructors and heads of the art department, and she taught dance. She was older but fit and always wore her hair in a tight bun that did her frail and gaunt face no favors. Her attitude also didn’t help her seem any more approachable but that seemed to be common among the ballet type. They were all tight strung and old fashioned, strict and elitist, the same could be said for everyone else on the board except Genevieve. She was the youngest by around two decades and the only with a tailor that wasn’t an octogenarian.

“Everyone who votes for Beatrice Langston, a show of hands.” The head says as his slumped posture from being bent over a desk his whole academic life, makes him look like he struggles to lift his head to see a show of hands. Everyone but Genevieve.

“Really?” Genevieve asks with direct eye contact with each person after the count was finished.

“I’m sorry Miss Durand but majority rules.”

“You are all going to sit there and tell me with a straight face that Beatrice is better suited for the scholarship than Hazel?” No one speaks and avoids her aggressive gaze. “Beatrice is rudimentary at best. She lacks the understanding of color theory and her depth of field is just...well it’s lacking. To put it politely.” Gen speaks with an animated tone and body as she moves paintings around on the table. “Look at these Hazel has done! Brilliant use of color and saturation, everything is scaled to perfection and her abstract art evokes emotion and shows a much deeper grasp of the poetry and psychology of color and space!” Gen raises her voice and holds up a painting with both her hands, shoving it in the others faces from where she sat. “Beatrice hasn’t even DONE an abstract piece!” She tosses the paper and sorts back loudly in her chair as it scoots.

“The vote is final Moss Durand, I’m sorry you-“

“No, you’re not!” She scoffs and his eyes go wide. “I know why you’re all voting for her and you should all be ashamed. You should have your educator privileges revoked because you don’t give a damn about these children and nurturing them.” She speaks from the heart, fully upset and letting it show.

“Miss Durand that is quiet enough.”

“So you’re going to tell me you’re voting for Langston because of her skill and NOT because of who her father is?” She crossed her arms and leans toward the annoyed-looking man.

He says nothing in reply. “Our vote is-“

“Yes final!” She throws up her hands and rolls her eyes. “I am so completely disappointed in every single one of you for not voting for talent over a name. Hazel could use this scholarship, Langston has money! And no talent.” She shakes her head. “All because of who her father is! Ridiculous!” Genieve huffs.

“Like you’ve never benefited from who your father is.” One is the men say with a cold side-eye that they would soon regret.

“Excuse me, Garrett?” She stands slowly and others sink back into their chairs.

“Miss Durand pl-“

“NO!” She shakes her head and begins speaking with her hands to the head. “No, I will not sit here and be spoken to in such a way.” She trots right across from the formerly brave academic and scolds him like a child with a pointed finger. “You don’t know a damn thing about me you glorified bookend! I lost my connection to my father and his name at seventeen! Everything I have has my blood sweat and tears in it! I have worked My arse off for my successes and you, nay, no one will say otherwise because it would be a lie.” She hisses and shouts. “A girl should get this scholarship on hard work and talent, not a name! Just because you’ve never worked for anything doesn’t mean others aren’t deserving! We can’t all be born with rich fathers and cocks and just waltz into whatever sort of life we want! Some of us have to work for it! And since all you’ve done is make theories and sit on your fat arse and read your whole life you can’t relate! Doesn’t make it not true!” She shouts and throws her arms in the air.

“MISS DURAND! That is enough!”

“And YOU! You ancient fuck. You can piss off. The lot of you! You only represent the past and have no interest in catching up with the rest of the world on modernity. I don’t want any part of a board or school who doesn’t give a fuck about its students. I love art and I want to help those that love it as well.” She speaks and moves to gather her things as she keeps scolding. “And as a woman who knows the rampant sexism and abuse of power in academia, you should be ASHAMED!” She points at the other woman in her group. “I’d like to let you all in on a little advice before I part. Garret your beard makes you look like a pedophile. Quinne, your hair pulled back like that makes you look like a shaved fanny. Richard, you always smell like bloody mothballs and Turner, your cologne smells like horse piss. And you Gerald.” She scowls at the head. “ Everyone knows your poor dumb secretary sucks you off in your office. You’re a lousy liar and make noises like a dying cow when you ejaculate. You aren’t fooling anyone.” She sasss. “You’re a sorry lot and I’m sorry that these students have heartless twats for professors!” She begins to trot off, her heels clicking over the old stone floors in a hurry in her anger.

The look on her face gives away her anger before she’s even in the car to meet Claire.

“That didn’t take long.”

“I left early.” She spits out and sits and seethes.

“May I ask why?”

“I quit.” She says finally looking to Claire sat next to her.

“You bloody what?” Her voice breaks.

“They wanted to give the scholarship to a girl

Based on who her father was. Not on talent because the simple thing couldn't evoke emotion with art if her life depended on it. They just want bloody money from her family!”

“So you quit?”

“Yes. I don’t want any part of that crock of shit.”

Claire opens her mouth and then closes it. There was a paycheck lost but truly not much else. Genevieve could just paint to sell and easily make up the difference. She could set up anyway and teach just for the love of it, so Claire simply nods.

———

“She’s in a right mood.” Claire warms Alfie, setting the table for tea as he trumps into the house.

“Why?” He demands in his usual confident way.

“She quit the teaching work today.”

“Fuckin wot? But she loves it!”

“She loves it and that’s why she quit.” Claire shrugs.

“Is no one makin' no fuckin' sense in this madhouse?” Alfie barks.

“What are you shouting about?” Genevieve comes around the corner with her little glasses on that matches Alfies and a stack of papers in her arms.

“What’s this bout you quittin?”

“Come sit and I’ll explain.” She nods and puts her hand to his back. Her calmer approach caught him off guard. He was expecting a loose canon from Claire’s warning but he only saw a very present woman in her eyes and appearance.

“Ya fuckin better.” He says loudly as he sits and she ignores his needless pompous nature.

“Aggie before our meal, some chamomile perhaps?”

“Lovely idea dear.” Aggie praises and Gen sits next to Alfie in their little corner of the table. Her in her large decorative, plush velvet chair at the head.

“I quit the board and the teaching job today.”

“Yeah, I got that much.”

“Do you want to keep interrupting me to hear the sound of your own voice or do you want me to explain?” She asks with a tilted head and removing her glasses.

His chin sinks into his neck in surprise at her quick wit and he gestures for her to continue without a word.

“Thank you.” She says with a large nod. “The scholarship vote was today and in short they chose name over talent. A girl who’s father has political connections was chosen over an immensely talented girl. For the money I’m guessing. I tried to convince them and they would not listen. I expressed my disappointment in their decision and one of the men thought it wise to make a remark about me. I-“

“Who fuckin said wot love, I’ll get the bastard.” Alfie swoops in protectively, still touchy about people smart mouthing Gen with the ongoing fight over gossip.

“That’s very nice of you, Cheri but not needed. I set him straight with words. Much less mess.” She pats Alfie's arm and despite his hard brow of anger for someone having the balls to speak poorly towards her, he couldn’t help but admire the unbothered face she held. “I don’t want to be a part of an organization that runs in such an unfair and uncaring way.”

“I never liked those wankers. Always acted betta than me.”

“And you are smarter than any of them could ever aspire to be, I assure you.” She praises and begins laying her papers into piles.

“Fuckin right I am.” He grumbles in agreement but feels the compliment make his chest warm. “You seem to be takin' it well.” He remarks, seeing her put her glasses back on.

“I was well miffed at first. But turns out Spite is an excellent motivator.” She says with an amused smile.

“That it is.” He nods. “And what is it motivatin'?”

“I am going to start my own scholarship.”

“Oh! Lovely idea that.” He nods approvingly. “Total control or no control I always say.”

“You do say that.” She remarks, thumbing through a stack.

“Where exactly ya gonna get the money for such a thing?” He flatly asks. “Ya kinda lost a source of income there dinnit ya?”

“I did but I can manage. I did it because I loved it, not the money.” She shakes her head. “I plan on selling some pieces, then gathering funds from the community in support. I’m going to make it one, especially for Jewish girls. I plan to give Hazel the first.”

“Hazel?”

“The girl that should have gotten the scholarship to begin with. Sweet and inwardly little girl. Bright as the sun and so much promise.”

“And Jewish?”

“And Jewish.” She nods.

“Well, that’s lovey then, yeah?”

“I certainly hope so.” Gen glances over to him. “Lots of paperwork involved in such a thing of course. I’ll have to go by the lawyers later in the week to set it all up. But I’m the meantime I can sell and do private lessons for a price. Perhaps portraits? Be far less time consuming for me anyway.”

“And make a hell of a lot more money.”

“Yes. That as well.” She huffs out a laugh and nods.

“Where ya gon sell at?”

“Nothing in mind yet. Places. Pieces I do have a few landscapes that are easy sales I believe. Once I had all the legal pieces in place I Was moving onto that next step.”

“How’s about me club?”

Gen stops and looks up at him. “Really?” She says with narrowed eyes of disbelief.

“Sure. Can be a little coming out party for ya. Invite all those posh cunts and take their money.” He grins.

“You’ll have to come up with a new name for them if we’re going to be asking for money.” She smirks.

“Eh.” He shrugs. “I just won’t say it to no one's face.” He promises and they share a mutual smile of hopefulness for both endeavors.

——————

His club would be full of what half his usual clientele was on this particular evening. The usual ruffage replaced with the wealthy that Genevieve had invited not only to get money from but to put any rumors to bed about how she might be now since the whispered about incident. It was easy enough to show she wasn’t pregnant, especially in the tight dress she’d chosen. Which was purposeful.

“I can’t help but feel a bit fat in this.” She mutters, smoothing over her well-rounded hips where she was now carrying most of her weight gain.

“You’ve gained weight but you look healthy again.” Claire insists. “Which is what you want. You look well fed and cared for. No signs of weakness or poverty.”

“That’s all well good but what happens when I slap some twat for calling me a cow.” She snaps back.

“Ya first have to get over me slappin’ ya for sayin’ such a thing bout yaself.” Alfie says loudly as he enters the room in his usual dark suit.

“But I have gained weight.” She insists on her correctness.

“Yes and what of it? Who the fuck cares? Not me. You shouldn’t. Ya look lovely. Gorgeous. Green like money and soft like royalty.” He declares with his hands on her bare arms.

“But I have-“

“Shut your perfect painted mouth love.” He shakes his head and tsks her. “I won’t have you speakin' of yaself in such a way. Not with me round to hear it and not when I’m away, yeah? You are a dream in the flesh, Genny. Always have been, always will be.” He kisses her blushed cheek.

“Yes, Alfie.” She sighs.

“I know ya can lie betta than at!” He grins and puts his arms around her in the emerald dress. “You are confident. You are in control.” He says with a squeeze to her. “Now you.” He nods his head forward.

“I am confident. I am in control.” She tries to put forth some faith in her voice.

“You will get the money you need tonight and you will charm the pants off everyone.” Claire adds supportively.

“Thanks.” Gen says with her hands resting on Alfies around her. “Last time I tried this it went miserably and I believe it’s getting the best of me.”

“You are a different woman now.” Alfie declares proudly. “I have total faith in you. As should you.” He kisses her cheek and gives her bum a light pat before pulling away. “And you do look stunnin’ love. You know I’d tell ya if I thought otherwise.”

“And I don’t know yet if that’s a blessing or a curse.” She smirks.

“There She is, right?” He laughs and pinches her cheek, smiling proudly.

——

Genevieve did muster up the hutzpah she needed before exiting the car with Alfie opening the door for her. A gentlemanly hand out and waiting patiently as he heard her measured breathing to set herself. When she emerged, she was a fully evolved woman of means who didn’t give a damn about anyone she didn’t deem worthy.

He loved watching her now, not like he hadn’t before but now in public there was a hardness that wasn’t there before. Even though she was looking for money from these people, she wasn’t kissing any arse. She stone-faced bad, sexist jokes and when turned to see what was wrong with her, Alfie would give them no reaction as well. Solidarity and that. She didn’t clutch her chest and bend and laugh like an angel for them, she spoke clearly and in an informed way like the well-educated businesswoman she was. She wasn’t boozy and lusty and playing up her chest or hair. She wore it pulled back with a lovely bejeweled comb, her dress perfectly tailored and her jewels classic and expensive. She only

wore kitten heels, concealed under the long hem of her gown instead of her usual height giving ones since the healing had left her back a bit worse for wear. But she didn’t look any less put together for it. Alfie rather liked the shorter stature for her as he got to put his arm around her easily and whisper how proud he was of her for not giving in to their expectations of her. Everything was going swimmingly, money being signed over, appointments for teaching sessions filling up on the list. But a woman, for whatever her reasons were, decided to make a spectacle of herself. And Genevieve was happy to oblige her.

“Yes I’m doing very well.” Genevieve nods and gives a polite tone. “The new contracts with Fortnum and Mason as well as a large yield

This season for both honey and fruit. Soon I’ll be adding my hat to the gin game with my high-grade juniper.”

“I heard you got fired from the school.” The wife of the man who was being a gentleman and speaking to both Gen and Alfie equally chirps into the conversation. “So with that monetary loss

You can’t be doing as well.”

Genevieve narrows her eyes at her but keeps her cool. “I stepped down from the board and quit my teaching position. I was not fired. I didn’t believe in how they were running the school. Since I worked there out of love for the arts and the students, not the money, that is why I am starting my own scholarship and offering lessons. Which is why you are here tonight.” She clarifies.

“Gen has been very hands-on with the building of it, suited the work helps fund that of others. She’ll be having her bat mitzvah soon and with these new business endeavors I could not be more proud.” Alfie adds to help cut the tension

“Thank you darling.”

“Well good thing everything has lined up so well for you both now, yes?” The man gives a polite smile.

“It is a blessing, surely.” Gen nods graciously.

“Especially after all that….” the man shakes her head. “All the bad sort of things that transpired for you. Well good that you have recovered so well!”

“Yes, a product of hard work I assure you.”

“Hard work will get you whatever you desire,

I always say.”

What a capitalist, Gen muses.

“Rather, suspicious though isn’t it?” The wife turns as if she’s only speaking to her husband.

“Uh...what is dear?”

“Or rather ... convenient that all this happens around this time? right after your supposed incident..”

“Supposed?” Genevieve’s voice shows bite and the man is clearly made uncomfortable by it.

“Yes if it was so bad you don’t seem to be bothered now.”

“I am a businesswoman. I try not to mix personal and professional.” Alfie could see Gen's eyes dilate and change. He watched her closely with great interest.

“I’d heard no one saw you for months and then you pop back up just fine. Seems like if all that happened like I’ve heard you’d still be at home. Not out working. Like a man.” She shoots her eyes at Alfie who gives her a quirked brow and a snort at the audacity to come after his masculinity.

“Besides taking care of her when she was first home, my business wasn’t affected.” Alfie speaks in a cold and calculated way.

“I’m sure it wasn’t.” She looks Alfie up and down. “But funny how this all cleared right up when it was time for you to ask for money. Yes? When you would require others kindness?” The hairs on the back of Genevieve’s neck stand up as he watches her brow lower and her eyes go black. “People in your sort of...business…” she drags out and looks to Alfie for a moment with clear disapproval on her face. “Are known to, shall we say, over-exaggerate the truth? And as I said, awfully coincidental on the timing when you needed people to feel sorry for you.”

Genevieve moves so fast Alfie doesn’t have time to do much but scoff out a laugh after she has the woman by her neck and against a wall.

Genevieve sinks her nails into the unmarked skin of the woman’s weak throat. Her hand squeezing as she holds her up as sputters, eyes wide showing she didn’t expect to get what was coming her way.

Gen leans in close, nose to the woman’s cheek and ghosts over her skin and ears as speaks low and slow so only she can hear. The rest of the room falls silent and turns to watch the altercation, disgustingly interested to see if the rumors of Genevieve's ruthlessness were true.

“The things I went through would’ve killed an ordinary man.” She hisses and the woman kicks her feet. “You would’ve died one day in.” She growls. “If you lasted that long.” She spits venomously. “I owe you nothing. But I will tell you the horrors and trials I have gone through are something that will haunt me for the rest of my life. Torture. Rape. Mental and emotional manipulation. I’ve moved past all of it. My body and mind have healed so I can make a better life for myself. Cunts like you make it so I Have to push forward, be better, be more and prove myself time and time again to make it in this world. You prove nothing with your accusations. Only that you are a weak, soft submissive lemming, a pathetic excuse for a woman for those of us who have known true oppression. A judgemental miserable old hag with nothing better to do than talk about others because you have nothing of any substance to say. You are nothing. You aren’t worth my time. I am only using you as an example. Because I know others think like you. And I will continue to be better than you. To thrive despite your disapproval. To be happy and fulfilled in ways you could never imagine.” She lets go of her throat, her feet full on the floor again as she gasps and holds her neck. “That is my revenge. A life more fruitful and whole than your small mind could ever hope for. And if you ever think to even insinuate that I am a liar again. I will not use just my words against you, you rotted gash.” Genevieve stands like a snake watching its venom take down its prey slowly.

The woman does not respond. The blood under Gen's nails and the energy around her speak enough.

The husband looks to Alfie while this all happens, who only shrugs and watches with fully entertained eyes. This old horse got what was coming to her as far as he was concerned. He was only disappointed Genevieve didn’t slap her at the first insult. But this was well worth the wait.

“If anyone else has any remarks about my abduction and the events around it I suggest you keep them to your fucking self. No self-respecting person would ask someone about such a horrible thing. And they won’t if they want to keep their tongues in their mouths.” She stands tall, proud and strong in the face of all eyes gazing upon her. She speaks from the gut, and only truthfully. She held no question as to who she was in that moment as she boldly met the eyes that stared at her with mixtures of fear and interest.

Alfie stood as tall and proud as she, solidarity with his love. He gave her an approving nod when she met his eyes across the room. The deep rich brown so black when she tapped into that killer instinct now. This was a power move, strength and control. The restraint but an expression of her feelings showing growth beyond what he could’ve hoped for her. She was truly one of his own now. His warrior queen, his panther wife and hopefully the fearless and just mother to his children one day. He was overtaken with emotion, his heart hard thumping in his chest as she moved back towards him in the crowd like a snake in her green dress. She was brilliant, everything he needed in a companion. She wasn’t taking shit from anyone now, for any reason. Gone through hell and lived, came out the other side stronger and smarter and more ruthless. Same as him. She was a gangster now. Worthy to carry the Solomons’ name. He couldn’t wait to make her his own.

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