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“Isn’t there something you should be doing in the shop?” Kirsty snapped.
“Fine, be stubborn. Don’t listen.”
Magenta stormed out of the office. Kirsty threw down her work in disgust. Now she couldn’t concentrate. She
let herself into the stairwell and up to her flat. Against her better judgment she peeked out of the living room curtains to the shop over the road. In the middle of the blacked-out windows was a large poster. It said: Don’t just be sexy, be strong. Self-defence for women, here tonight 7.30pm.
It was a brilliant idea. Kirsty kicked the stool in front of the couch and hurt her toes. She took off her shoes to rub them. The damn man was going to win and she didn’t know what to do about it. She didn’t know how to fight him. She could feel it all slipping away.
She caught sight of herself in the mirror. Maybe she should advertise herself. She stepped towards the mirror and pulled down the neck of her jumper. The same rough pattern of scars made its way down the right side of her neck and into her sweater. They weren’t red and angry any more. Now they were the silver and white that the surgeon in Spain had promised they’d become. But they were still ugly. She was ugly. She yanked up her jumper in disgust. There was no way she could fight with this. This body wouldn’t sell anything. She looked towards Lake’s shop. There was no way she could let anyone see this body. She had to find another way to fight.
“Tell me again why we’re doing this, boy—because I’m at a loss here.”
Lake flicked the lights on in the storeroom. It was a large, neutral white space, windows high on the walls, a small cloakroom in the far corner and a door to the alleyway behind the row of houses. At some point someone had added the room as an extension to the old, crooked building. Design wise it was completely out of place. Practically, it was brilliant. Especially tonight.
“We’re advertising,” he told Betty.
She humphed and mumbled something he couldn’t quite catch, but he got the drift—Betty did not approve. Somehow that made the whole thing so much better.
“How exactly is teaching women how to punch going to make them buy underwear?”
She walked around the walls, turning at each corner. He got the distinct impression that she was looking for an armchair that clearly wasn’t there. Either that, or she was marking her territory.
“You give people what they want. You make them trust you and they’ll come back for more.”
She stopped mid-stride, tottered backwards, steadied herself then glared at him.
“This is how you wage a war? It’s a miracle the English ever won anything. I’ve got to tell you, son, I’m getting past bored.”
Lake squashed a grin.
“I know what I’m doing,” he told her.
“Rubbish.” She resumed her walk. “This is the worst war I’ve ever been in. There’s no violence, no bombs, not even any bloody fireworks. It’s BORING.”
Lake threw yoga mats on the floor before stashing some sparring gloves and body protection pads in the corner. More money slipping through his fingers. Still, it was only a few days until the shop fittings and merchandise arrived, then he could start making some for a change.
“Where’s Rainne?” he said.
“Do I look like your sister’s keeper?”
Betty flapped her arms in disgust. It was possible she was trying to take off and fly somewhere more interesting. Lake ignored her. He’d been hoping that Rainne would be around to help. It seemed that these days she was always somewhere else.
“Are you staying to help?”
“You’re off your head. I’m going to the pub.”
She stormed past him and back into the shop, all flying tartan and hairnet.
“Don’t get drunk,” he called after her.
Two shandies and they’d be phoning him to pick her up. Lake shook his head and wondered who’d taken care of Betty before he’d arrived in town.
At twenty past seven women started to arrive. They were all dressed in gym clothes and had the same nervous look. He suspected that half of them thought he was going to rid them of their underwear during the class.
“Welcome, ladies,” he said, and they giggled. “Tonight I’m going to teach you how to take care of yourself.”
“I’m always taking care of myself,” someone called out. “Nothing new there.”
