The Unveiled Lady (a Vigilauntie Justice short) ebook

Chapter 1. In which a stranger calls

Baz pressed the needle into her embroidery, sneaking a look at Peggy on the other side of the table as she did so. ‘Ow!’ She’d stabbed herself with the needle. Again.


Peggy looked up but didn’t say anything. Beyond the café’s window, the drizzle had let up but the sky remained as grey and foreboding as it had been since Baz had awoken.


Baz had already tried making conversation several times that morning. Each time, Peggy had grunted a monosyllabic response. It wasn’t that Baz didn’t like Peggy – she very much did. And it wasn’t that the pair didn’t have anything in common. Nor was it that they didn’t have anything to talk about.


The truth seemed to be that Carole’s absence unsettled Peggy. Her partner was spending the week with her daughter. Carole had four kids – Baz was fairly certain of that. And she gathered Peggy didn’t get on with the one Carole was visiting.


Or maybe the problem was that without Madge here to facilitate conversation, it just didn’t flow as smoothly as usual. Like Carole, Madge was away visiting family. Her sister Jackie lived in Manchester and Madge had gone to spend a few days with her.


Whatever the reason for the silence, it was making Baz uncomfortable.


Every morning, the four women met up at Wellbeloved Café in the heart of south-east London for two hours. They lingered over their beverages, had a bit of a natter, and worked on their respective crafting projects. Baz liked the bustling coffee shop– it was warm and homey, yet tasteful and stylish. The building that housed it was several hundred years old and the interior was bright and inviting while still maintaining much of the character.


When the bell above the front door jangled, Baz instinctively turned to look. The figure in the door stood slightly hunched. They wore a tattered tracksuit with the hood pulled up. Despite the miserable weather, they wore sunglasses. The lower portion of their face was obscured by a mask – one of those cheap blue surgical ones.


But one thing stood out in sharp contrast to the person’s overall demeanour. Their shoes.
Those very shoes kept popping up in Baz’s social media feed and on her internet searches. She’d looked at them and had been seriously tempted – until she’d spotted the price tag. It was clear from looking at them that they’d be expensive, but she still hadn’t been prepared for the reality. She’d wondered who would spend more than £1,000 on shoes.


Apparently, she had the answer now.


Still, Baz was surprised when the person – instead of walking to the café’s front counter – sidled over to where she and Peggy sat.


When the interloper lowered herself into Madge’s chair, Peggy finally looked up. With a start, she uttered a single syllable. ‘Flip.’


Baz was surprised by this. Although Peggy didn’t have Carole’s potty mouth, she didn’t normally pepper her speech with faux-swears either. Baz had a bit of a soft spot for words like gosh, sugar, darn – and flip. But Peggy wasn’t the sort.


Peggy scowled. ‘What are you doing here? And what on God’s green earth are you wearing?’


The newcomer lowered their voice, such that Baz could barely catch the words. ‘I thought perhaps we could speak in private.’


Peggy cast a glance at Baz and gave her a quick wink before turning her gaze back to the other person. ‘Well, you thought wrong.’


The stranger harrumphed. Something about the sound struck Baz. It felt almost – but not quite – familiar. ‘Perhaps I made a mistake in coming here.’


Peggy scoffed. ‘I’ll say you did.’


‘I need your help, PP,’ the new arrival hissed.