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imagine, the beauty that was evident to all but her. However, she now saw a woman staring back at her. She saw a shining light emanating from her eyes – not because of the gown, the marriage, or the wedding, but because she was just about to put her plan into motion.
    “I should have cut your hair,” said Agnes, the stylist, interrupting Mercy’s thoughts. “It’s far too long. Long is not in fashion this year, especially with this gown.”
    “Nonsense,” said Doreen, the dressmaker. “When hair is like silk and hangs naturally curly like that, it should be left just as it is. It may not be fashionable, but I would sell my soul for that texture and colour. It is, after all, a woman’s crowning glory.”
    Doreen stood slightly behind Mercy and studied her in the mirror. She said, “You’re a lucky girl, Mercy. Big Joe was very kind to pay for all of this. He might be well off, but the veil in itself cost him a small fortune, let me tell you. He’s the best match in the area, so be thankful that you’ll be well looked after. He’s got no children from that sickly wife he used to have. Blimey, she could scarce stand up straight most of the time, never mind bear him a child. He’ll leave everything to you; don’t forget that either. If you give him what he wants every night, you’ll tire him out in no time. He’ll be dead soon enough with his big fat belly and all the nightly jumping and humping about the bed with you. You take it from me: if you constantly fuck him, he’ll not be long for this world.”
    “That’s a terrible thing to say,” Agnes scolded Doreen whilst trying to look serious.
    “I’m just saying how it is, Agnes.”
    “Fucking indeed. At least say pleasuring him. I hate that word fucking .” Agnes began clearing the tools of her trade away, still smiling behind her indignant demeanour.
    Doreen played with the veil, spreading it out and measuring its long train. She ignored Agnes and said, “You mark my words, Mercy. You’ll be a rich widow in no time. I’ll tell you right now, if I didn’t know who you were or where you came from, I’d think you were a bloody duchess – or a real lady. You’re beautiful, but you also have grace and posture, just like your mother had. It’s a natural gift, and not every woman has it, especially round your neck of the woods. You’ve got all the attributes men want, and they’ll be your weapons, so use them well, and they’ll take you a long way.”
    Mercy sighed. “What I want is to get employment and not have to marry an old man. What’s the point of having looks if all they’ve gotten me is a horrible old fat balding man for my trouble? I hate him!” she sobbed loudly. “I’m dreading it. I feel I’m about to go to prison without having committed a single crime.”
    The two women looked at each other. Mercy was aware of the pity in their eyes, and that was exactly what she wanted to see. It was time to perform.
    “If only I could have one day, just one day, to taste freedom in a gown like this. If I could just do one thing with my life today, it would see me through all the horrible years to come with that filthy old git who sticks his slobbering tongue in my ear every time I’m with him. He makes me want to puke! I swear I’ll end up killing myself. I’ll be just like my dad, without hope.”
    Mercy’s tears and wretched sobs stopped the two women in their tracks.
     
    The girl was right, Doreen was thinking. Big Joe was a lecherous old git and had a different woman paid for in coin almost every night of the week. Doreen removed the veil and got a better look at Mercy’s anguished face. She sighed. She’d been paid to make Mercy look like a princess, and that’s what she’d done. Moreover, she’d done it well. She couldn’t say anything that would help the girl. Life with Big Joe would be bloody rotten, and that was the truth of it. He’d set his sights on Mercy when she was just a young girl; everybody knew that. Now that