Red Flag

17. Incognito

With Lorne's sage-green shirt covering my hair from its collar downward, and the peach-coloured hijab concealing the rest of it, I turned in front of the mirror, curling my upper lip. "Looks too much like a tent – a poorly designed and crudely pitched one."

Lorne looked up from his computer. "Everything I've found about their modest dress says you must conceal your shape with loose clothing."

"Yeah, but this loose? See what it says about cinching the waist a bit."

He shook his head. "The Google Images search shows nothing form-fitting. Besides, with the tiny size of yours, it would be seen as an enticement."

I examined my reflection again. "What about a loose tie around my hips and the shirt bloused over it? Hide my waist while giving some shape to the tent."

"Yeah, with it nearly to your knees, there's plenty to spare. Maybe one side bloused more than the other to give some semblance of style."

Finally, with both of us pleased with the look of my disguise, we headed out. As we walked up Cambie toward Winners, I pointed to SaveOn and led him toward the entrance. "I need to buy two months of Alysena."

"Hunh? What's that?"

"My pills. Need to start a new pack." When I saw his quizzical expression, I added, "Contraception – the prescription's in my phone."

"Oh! And I should get condoms, shouldn't I? You missed some." He shrugged and blushed. "I researched it while you brushed your hair."

"No need. I missed only a placebo, so you can continue au naturel. My next active one is due with dinner tonight."

"Hmmm, my research didn't get that far."

I chuckled. "They come in packs of twenty-eight, the first twenty-one active and the last seven placebos."

"Why placebos?"

"To maintain the routine – I take a pill every evening with dinner. Two days after the last active one, my flow begins, and the placebos allow me to keep count until the start of the next pack."

"Complex being a woman."

"At least we don't have to hide surprise pop-ups." I smiled as I watched him rearrange his trousers.

"True. And this one can properly be called a distraction, can't it?"

"Let's call it a show of interest. Positive, rather than negative."

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Shortly before noon, Lorne and I returned to the loft, laden with bags. After setting them down, I unwrapped my head and neck, undid the shirt and took it off, heaving a sigh of relief. "God, what horrid confinement. How on earth do they stand it?"

Lorne shrugged. "Cultural upbringing. Doing what is expected of them."

"Yeah, I suppose." I took the labels off one of my new tops, pulled it over my head and flipped my hair from beneath it. "Increasingly itchy with it under the shirt. Good idea to sandwich it."

"Thanks. You sure you want to come with me? You could stay here and write. Warm up some pôchouse for lunch – there are baguette chunks in the freezer, your choice of wine in the cellar."

"Tempting, but I think four eyes would be better than two to check out your snout-in-the-trough postulation."

"Yeah, okay. Which one first?"

"I think Nuance. I hadn't gone there with Nathan last Friday – only to its grand opening last month."

"Yeah, the last time I had seen you before Pearl's on Monday."