Passing as Elias - By Kate Bloomfield Page 0,32

attire. Shirt, vest, breeches, socks, shoes, hat, darkened eyebrows, and facial hair. Her chest was bound, and her pants were stuffed with socks. She did indeed look like a boy.

Chapter Six

Passing as Elias

Elizabeth went to the closest wig shop first thing on Monday morning. She browsed for several minutes, pondering over what kind of hairstyle her alias should sport. A friendly older gentleman in a toupee bustled over to assist Elizabeth.

‘May I help you Miss?’ he said in a quivering voice.

‘Oh yes. My … my father, he requires a wig.’ Elizabeth said glancing around.

‘Getting a bit thin up there, is he?’

‘Mmh,’ Elizabeth said noncommittally, ‘I want … he wants something that is not too flashy. Simple.’

They went through numerous boxes of wigs until Elizabeth found the perfect one. It was dark brown, in a common style, but not too flashy. Elizabeth thought it might look quite good with a tricorn hat.

‘I think this one would suit him the best.’ Elizabeth decided.

She paid a pound for the wig, and left the shop hurriedly in order to go home and try on her new outfit.

It took her an hour to transform herself into a man. The facial hair was the trickiest part for it required careful attention in looking realistic. She had decided against sporting a full beard, and went with a younger look. She used trimmings from the wig to glue on patches of hair at the side of her face, beside her ears.

Elizabeth cut over a foot of her own hair off in order to fit it all inside the new wig.

Feeling nervous, Elizabeth set out for her first day of work as a man. She planned to advertise the fact that the shop was now being run by a man. No one looked at her as she walked to the apothecary. A young lady smiled politely as she passed, but Elizabeth felt that no one saw her for what she really was.

Elizabeth put a large sign in the shop window stating: UNDER NEW OWNERSHIP with a little drawing of a top hat. Once the shop was open Elizabeth stood behind the counter, and put on a straight face. She must remember to control her voice, facial expressions, and movements. She took a deep breath and tried to control her racing heart. She was not sure why she was so nervous. She figured that she was frightened of someone recognising her. But, she thought suddenly, she did have a half brother … somewhere. She could pretend to be related to herself.

Elizabeth jumped when the shop bell tinkled. A very pregnant lady had waddled through the door.

‘Good-good day ma’am.’ Elizabeth stuttered. She cleared her throat.

‘Good morning,’ She smiled as she approached the counter.

‘Let me guess.’ Elizabeth said in a slightly deeper voice, ‘Something for the pain?’

‘Oh, yes.’ The lady said with a smile, ‘My feet – they are aching.’

‘And your husband made you walk here?’ Elizabeth said with a slight hitch of her chin. Confidence, she reminded herself, men are confident. She also cursed herself mentally for using too many inflictions in her sentences.

‘He is a very busy man.’ She replied, looking curiously at Elizabeth, ‘So, you are the new owner, I gather?’

‘Yes Ma’am.’ Elizabeth gave a tip of her hat.

‘I have never seen you before.’

‘J-just moved to town a week ago.’

‘Hm. A girl used to own this shop.’ She said delicately, fingering a doily upon the counter.

Elizabeth decided on a quick change of topic, ‘So, your feet, miss?’

Elizabeth spent the next ten minutes recommending and explaining various herbs, and lotions for the pregnant lady. She was pleasant enough, and took Elizabeth’s advice without question.

The rest of the day continued much the same. It was still nowhere near as busy as it had been in the days Professor de Bard, though Elizabeth felt that it would get better for today had been a large improvement over the last month. She sold twice as much as she had within the last week.

Females that walked past the apothecary looked in through its windows, spotted Elizabeth and sidled inside, pretending to look at the products on the shelves. Most of them did not buy anything at all, and Elizabeth figured they were only entering the shop to spy upon the new owner. One young girl stared at Elizabeth unashamedly, as though she could tell there was something strange about her.

Later that day, a rather familiar busty lady caught Elizabeth off-guard with a rather obvious question.

‘So, what do they call you?’ She asked, leaning on