***
It felt like a lifetime since I’d last been in Aberdeen. It was like returning to an old friend – albeit one who’d been in the wars since I’d last seen them. From the foot of the main parade at Union Street the evidence of the Fomori demon attacks was still painfully visible. Many of the grey granite buildings were scarred and there appeared to be a healthy trade in scaffolding. All the same, a deep satisfaction uncurled within my chest; it really was good to be back.
For the time being, we’d gone the old-fashioned route. Not for nothing had I spent my formative teenage years practising the art of thievery on the streets. I’d learnt how to blend in. It wasn’t about wearing a hat and big sunglasses, it was about attitude. So while my long white hair was completely covered, my skin was temporarily darkened and my face was in shadow, I also held myself differently. Rather than projecting the image of an all-powerful Sidhe Chieftain who cared nothing for the opinion of others, I’d chosen to take on the persona of a slick trophy wife.
Anyone who’s never had to disguise themselves won’t get it. Amateurs always believe that the best way to conceal yourself is to hunch over and fade into the background. The truth is that there are very few people capable of successfully pulling off that kind of feat. Even my years of slinking around the corridors of the Bull’s mansion and trying to avoid being noticed hadn’t made me an expert at it. Misdirection is far easier. As far as anyone who saw me knew, I was a rich woman who cared far too much about her appearance. My tight, expensive clothes and showy designer headscarf were as much about creating a picture as providing a disguise. With the obvious strut in my step and the way I thrust out my chest, even people I knew would be hard pressed to believe I was anything other than what I presented. Although my posture meant that my lower back was beginning to twinge, the high heels I was wearing made me feel rather sexy. It was a real shame they weren’t pink. Even with my supposed demise, pink would have been too dangerous.
‘Admit it, Uh Integrity,’ Bob murmured in my ear, ‘right now you think you’re pretty hot.’
Just then a car passed by with a scruffy-looking warlock in the passenger seat. He leaned out and leered at me. I smiled. ‘I don’tthink, Bob,’ I murmured. ‘Iknow.’ It was true; looking like this was about self-belief. As Bob himself could attest if he were introspective enough, ego was vital to any façade.
I lifted my chin and strutted down the long street. From time to time I paused and glanced in shop windows to check who was behind me as well as to maintain my cover as a woman hell-bent on shopping. So far so good. I hummed to myself and crossed the street. As Tipsania had said, there was only one store in town worth visiting if you were planning upscale nuptials. I grinned as MacKay’s Marriage Emporium came into view. Bring on the meringues.
The door jangled as I entered, not with a bell-like noise but with the opening bars of Wagner’s bridal march. Neat.
‘I think I just vomited in my mouth,’ Bob whispered.
I avoided rolling my eyes as a shop assistant gave me the once over. Apparently deciding I was a fish worth reeling in, she strolled over and thrust out a perfectly manicured hand. ‘Good afternoon,’ she purred. ‘My name is Shona and I’m a bridal consultant here at the wonderful MacKay’s Emporium.’ Her smile grew to a blinding intensity. ‘We can make all of your wishes come true.’
Bob choked. I returned Shona’s smile and took her hand. ‘Thank you so much,’ I responded breathily in my best Italian accent. ‘I have heard you are the best in Scotland and, as I cannot be home in Milano for my wedding, I am looking for a shop which can meet my expectations.’ I leaned in slightly. ‘They are very high. One only gets married once ? or perhaps twice.’ I paused and gave a self-deprecating laugh. ‘Maybe three times. It’s very important that the wedding is perfect.’
Shona didn’t even blink. ‘Of course! And you’re Italian, you say?Benvenuto al nostro meraviglioso negozio.’
Shite. I should have opted for Greek. I clapped my hands as if in wild applause. ‘You Scots are so charming!’ I replied in English, adding just the faintest patronising tone to keep her away from any more attempts at my ‘native’ language.
A consummate professional, Shona’s smile didn’t waver. ‘Is this your first visit here?’ she enquired.
Playing dumb was fun. I smiled prettily to mask my smirk. ‘To the Granite City? Why no.’
‘Uh, great.’ Shona’s expression didn’t flicker. ‘And is it your first visit to our little store?’
I looked around. Calling MacKay’s Marriage Emporium ‘little’ was hardly apt. The place might look rather nondescript from outside but I could see that inside it stretched back in a cavernous confection of lace, frills and wedding joy.
‘It is,’ I replied. ‘I’m just shopping around for now. The truth is that I don’t even have a date yet. My fiancé, Byr…’ I shook myself. Where the hell had that come from? ‘My fiancé,’ I repeated, ‘wants a spring wedding but I’m not sure I can wait that long.’ I added a simper. Considering I was already blushing, it looked very natural.
Shona raised an eyebrow. I couldn’t be sure whether my Freudian slip had caught her attention or not. ‘Oh, spring is simply the best time,’ she said. ‘Let me show you what we have on offer.’
I allowed Shona to lead me round, pausing every so often to gush over a particular piece of tulle or laced frippery. When we reached the display of wedding cakes and her head was turned the other way, Bob zipped out from underneath my headscarf. In one fell swoop he knocked both the miniature bride and groom off the top of the largest tiered monstrosity. Then he posed this way and that while I tried – with some difficulty – to keep a straight face. When he dropped onto his back and began to wave his arms and legs up and down to make an icing angel, I had to blink rapidly and swallow.
‘Your collections are beautiful,’ I said, taking Shona and leading her away from the cake before she noticed him. I spoke with a fair degree of honesty; there was a tad too much virginal white for my taste, and my eyes were beginning to swim from all the delicate lace, but there was no denying that MacKay’s took great care over its offerings. I bit my lip. ‘I wonder, though, whether you can produce what I require. I anticipate my wedding will be very large scale.’ I smiled innocently and pretended not to notice the flash of avarice in Shona’s expression.
‘Oh,’ she said reassuringly, ‘we deal with large weddings all the time. How many guests were you thinking of?’
I plucked a figure out of the air. ‘I’ve only just started the list,’ I answered, ‘and I’m already at more than a thousand. It’s so important in this day and age to ensure that no one is left out in the cold or offended because they’re not included. Perhaps if you could tell me of any large weddings you’re currently planning I would have a better idea about whether you could managemine. I want it to be the best.’ I sounded like the worst kind of bridezilla. Considering Shona didn’t blink, however, I guessed that in this industry it was par for the course.
Fortunately it worked. She glanced round as if wary of being overheard and then dropped her voice. ‘You didn’t hear this from me,’ she said conspiratorially, ‘but we’ve been engaged to arrange the upcoming nuptials of Byron Moncrieffe and Tipsania Scrymgeour. It’s going to be the wedding of the century, and not just because it’s Sidhe. Byron is son to the Steward himself and the Scrymgeours are incredibly wealthy. No expense will be spared.’
My eyes lit up while I quashed the desperate sinking feeling in my stomach. ‘How wonderful!’ I cooed. ‘I imagine Ms Scrymgeour has been in regularly for dress fittings. She’ll want to make sure everything is perfect for such a high-profile ceremony.’
This time Shona couldn’t prevent her mask from slipping. Her face dropped in genuine dismay, although she did her best to provide Tipsania with excuses. ‘She’s been far too busy to come in. We are some distance from the Scrymgeour Clan Lands here. We have precise information of her measurements, though, and we’re confident her dress will be perfect.’
I looked from side to side. ‘I don’t suppose I could see it? I promise I won’t tell a soul.’ Her expression immediately closed up. Uh oh. She opened her mouth to speak but I forestalled her. ‘Of course, I understand if you can’t. Confidentiality is important and if the dress isn’t ready yet…’ I paused. ‘When did you say the wedding will be?’
Shona began to fidget. ‘A week on Saturday.’
‘That’s cutting it fine.’
‘The dressisready. In fact we’re to deliver to Miss Scrymgeour tomorrow.’
