The Queen's Curls

-1702- Escape

The hinges on the door squeak violently again, and she sighs. Just when she thought she had fixed it.

The woman in the doorway looked to be in her mid-twenties, many early thirties, and she looked like she hadn't had a full night of sleep in about a year or two.

"Hello, dear," the parlour woman says. "How may I be of service?"

The woman smiles a strained smile. "Just a trim, please." The woman's voice was quiet, maybe two volumes above a whisper.

The parlour woman smiles. "Of course. What's your name, love?"

"Meredith Thomas," the woman says, her voice dropping in volume at the last word.

The parlour woman nods. "Alright then. Come along, now. This way."

The woman leads Meredith Thomas over to a salon chair and starts to prepare a few tools — scissors, clips, so on and so forth. The parlour woman had just turned to get her last pair of scissors when she heard a quiet wince of pain and an ever so quiet, "Oh no," come from her client.

"Is everything alright?" the woman asks, coming to stand beside where Meredith was seated.

The other woman immediately stiffens and turns her head away from the parlour woman. "I'm fine."

The parlour woman comes to stand in front of Meredith and places two fingers under her clients chin, gently turning her face towards her own. "Meredith, love. Tell me what's going on. I'm here to listen."

The woman in the chair immediately bursts into violent sobs. In between said sobs, she says things like, "He won't stop!" and "He's going to kill me!"

The parlour woman just cradles Meredith in her arms, softly shushing her and rubbing a hand up and down her back. Her other hand was on her head, gently smoothing Meredith's dark hair.

The parlour woman pulls back from Meredith. "Look at me, love." The other woman looked up through her wet lashes and sniffled. "Take a few deep breaths, and then once you're calm enough, let's start from the beginning, alright?"

The other woman nods and takes in a few shaky breaths. "My husband, Edward, and I have been married for three years, and he's always had a drinking problem of sorts. Some nights, he won't even be back home until late the next morning, saying that he stayed at a friend's house for the night. I always thought he would come back to me, because he always did, but lately he's been coming home later and later, and whenever I ask where he's been, he'll push me away and say that it's none of my business. The worst part is that he has started hurting me when I ask where he's been. He gave me this—" Meredith brushes her hair away and points to the barely healed gash going from the top of her forehead to her jaw. "— just three nights ago, because I asked him where he had been all night. And I can't leave him because I'll have nothing if I do. He controls our money, and he hasn't been letting me buy anything or even use any money." The woman sniffles and her voice breaks when she says, "I just don't know what to do."

The parlour woman brings a nearby stool over to where Meredith is and sits on it. "I think your best plan of action would be to start saving any money that you find in his pockets when doing laundry and keep it somewhere where he won't find it. This will be what will help you get away—"

"But I love him!" Meredith interrupts. "I love him with all of my heart! And he loves me back! I know it!"

"Do you think he truly loves you back if he gave you that cut across your face? Do you think he would do that if he really, truly loved you?"

Meredith let's out a sob that shakes her entire body and puts her face in her hands. "This is what I mean!" she says. "I don't know what to do!"

The parlour woman wraps her arms around her client and says, "From what you've told me, it seems like you need to get away from him."

"I know that, I just don't know where to start." She rubs her eyes and looks up at the parlour woman.

The parlour woman smiles. "How about we start with a haircut?"

x x x

The parlour woman finishes wrapping Meredith's various bumps and bruises and the two women head over to the front counter.

"Thank you for the haircut," Meredith says, lightly fluffing her now shoulder length hair. "How much will it be?"

The parlour woman smiles. "I don't need your money, love. And besides, you'll need all you can get."

Meredith smiles sadly. "I'm truly going to miss Ed. The old Ed, anyways. The one who would surprise me with flowers on days that didn't matter, and who was the greatest cook."

"Well," the parlour woman says. "I'm positive you will find someone else. Maybe you should start your search at Strawmead's Diner."

Meredith raises a brow at the suggestion, but thinks better of asking about it. "How can I pay you back, then?"

As if in response, the parlour woman rummages around in a drawer and soon returns her hand in front of her. In said hand lies a ring on a chain; the ring was relatively thin, with five different stones embedded in it.

"I want you to take the ring on your finger and exchange it with the one on this chain. This ring here —" She points to the ring that she had just pulled from the drawer. "— represents escape. I obtained this ring from an old friend of mine who has a reputation for escaping prison. He had said that this ring was one of the things that had helped him in his several escapades."

Meredith accepts the ring from the parlour woman and examines it. "You're a very strange person, miss. First you recommended a very specific place for me to search for someone to love again, and then you give me this beautiful, very valuable-looking ring. Are you a witch?"

The parlour woman shrugs. "I am many things, but I think the term you are looking for is 'time traveler'."

Meredith's eyes go wide. "You're a time traveler?"

"Yes, love. But you need to get going. Your timing but be absolutely perfect for this, so you must leave very soon. I'm sorry to have rushed this, but you really must be going."

"But—"

The woman silences Meredith with one hand. She then leans over the counter and plants a kiss on her client's left cheek. "Goodbye, Meredith Thomas, and let the wisps of time carry you forward on your journey to escape."