If I worried about what people thought of me, I wouldn’t be in this line of work, Shay thought in response to Vera but not speaking it aloud, thinking to light a cigarette for a moment before deciding against it. Looking up and down the street for anything that looked out of place or uncomfortably familiar, like a car that might have tailed them, Shay decided that the coast was clear and headed inside the opulent tailor shop shortly after Vera disappeared inside. It was like stepping into an altogether different world, one clearly designed to exude wealth and class, the marble pillars and copious numbers of mirrors and a full complement of lighting gave the impression that no expense was spared in both establishing and operating the establishment. Despite the wealthy trappings that engulfed Shay, it wasn’t an unwelcoming feeling. Even the employees seemed warm, at least from first appearances.
He approached Vera and the saleswoman, both of whom seemed cordial, and he let his tension out somewhat. He never liked going in most stores, stately because most shopkeepers assumed his was poor, and if he had money, a simple thief. Hatred for the Irish was still alive and well in England, and Shay knew it would be a vulture that circled him until he died. He studied the saleswoman, an approaching middle-aged woman who looked as if she were aging gracefully and kept a cheerful disposition that probably contributed to her healthy, glowing appearance.
When Vera instructed him to go with Matilda, he simply smiled in compliance. “Yes, dear.” Pulling the black peacoat from his shoulders, Shay followed Matilda to a measuring booth, surrounded on three sides by mirrors. He complied with the older woman’s instructions, allowing her to probe his entire body for measurements as he thought over what was to come. He didn’t misinterpret Vera’s words as endearment, it was an act to disguise the two of them as husband and wife for the day tomorrow, and the sooner they mentally slipped into their roles, the more naturally both would act tomorrow when speaking to Mr. Tindall and other interested parties for this assignment. Much like the tailored suit, the first in Shay’s life, he would have to dress up his very soul to pull it off. Despite the necessity of it all, he felt somewhat fortuitous; there were far worse things in the world than pretending to be a beautiful woman’s husband.
Twenty minutes later, the task was complete and Matilda hurried off to turn numbers into carefully measured cuts of fabric. Shay approached Vera, thumbs hooked into his suspenders. “You look like you’re rather contented in this kind of establishment, dear. Quite a different world than the one I come from.” He said, somewhat of bemusement in his voice.
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