Standards to uphold
Mission: Chapter 10: Brakes on a Train
It was a fine shopping area, Bridget had remarked several times now. Remy was carrying boxes, bags and parcels, to replace all the things she lost and needed. While shopping she could pretend she was back home, the person she was a year ago. It felt good.
But Remington kept looking over his shoulder. Sure, he had credentials to show and credit to take advantage of, but he was traveling with people who were experts at con tricks. And he was very afraid of being accused of the same.
Bridget was lovingly stroking the material of a dress, when a disgruntled looking salesgirl slapped her hands away. "Move along, miss," the girl, about the same age as Bridget, said, "there's nothing for you here."
Bridget spluttered and looked back and forth between Remy and the girl. "I was about to buy this dress, just so you know!" She shot the girl a withering look. "You just lost out on commission."
The girl sneered. "I doubt it. You may have fooled others, but you don't fool me." She grabbed Bridget's hand. "You're not wearing gloves, your nails are chipped, your hands are tanned. You're not in a position to buy anything this expensive!"
"I beg your...! "
The girl continued. "Your hair has the look of being done by yourself or a third-rate maid," she sniggered, "or your fellow," she pointed her chin to Remy, "your dress is torn and dirty," Bridget looked down at her dress and had to admit that was true, "and you smell of, ... I don't know what, but you haven't see a bath in weeks."
Bridget pulled herself up and spoke to her husband. "Come Remy, we will take our business elsewhere." But Remy had to take the challenge.
"Look here, young lady," he said as he dropped some parcels to wave his papers in front of her, "We're the Perrys from Columbus City and as you know, the Perrys have recently married into the Hastings family. We hold quite a bit of power and money in the City and if you want to keep your job ..."
The girl laughed. "Oh that's good. You're real good!" Other shopkeepers were gathering around, some taking back some of the parcels Remy dropped. "You're scoundrels, you are. Trying to con your way along the journey, are you?"
Bridget looked around as she tugged Remy's sleeve. "Let's go, Remy," she whispered. "I don't like the look of some of these people."
"You'd better go, you hussy," the girl bitched at Bridget. "Go do a decent job for a living. If you can."
Remington had to let go of more boxes, bags and parcels, as more and more shopkeepers took back there things. Some people started to hit them, as the couple tried to make their way out of the shopping carriage. When they were safe, Bridget clung to her husband. "What is happening, Remy?" she asked in a scared little voice.
"Seems we've thrown our lot in with the wrong ... lot," Remy answered. "We'll just have to lay low until we get home, darling." He patted her head clumsily. "We'll be all right."