Flora sighed as she looked up at the many jars on the wall. Having straightened up the jars last night, so the labels were perfectly centred, logically Flora knew they wouldn’t have moved since then, but that didn’t stop the compulsion to check again.

As Flora climbed up the ladder to the shelves, she thought about how tired she was of this. Tired of checking every little thing, and the constant anxiety. This was exhausting, and she was sick of it.

* * *

The day before the opening of Mack the Knife, Mack was supervising the last few fixtures and fittings being installed in her shop. Four workmen were installing the ornate gold mirrors above each customer stall.

Everything was just how she had dreamed her new barbershop would be, and she had her family to thank for that. In those long months in jail, Mack had planned for a Victorian steampunk style shop—traditional, with a twist.

The couches, fixtures, and fittings looked to be straight out of a gentlemen’s club, and steampunk artwork and Victorian posters on the wall set the tone. In one corner a hatstand sat, with top hats and bowler hats casually hanging on it. On the coffee table at the waiting area, a display of smoking pipes and cigars added to the period feel of the place.

In another corner of the room sat the most important part of the shop, Dexter’s bed. After being apart for so long, she knew they both were going to love spending every day together. At the moment Dexter was hiding under his blanket. He wasn’t too happy with all the banging and noise going on.

Her old friend and new co-worker Liam came out from the back and held up his hands. “Well? What do you think?”

Liam was wearing a waistcoat over a T-shirt with a shark tooth printed on it, and a Victorian butcher’s apron. They’d both agreed that, along with designer jeans and boots, this would be their uniform.

“Looking good, big man,” Mack said.

Liam and Mack had trained as barbers together and been friends ever since. When Mack asked him to help run her new business, he had jumped at the chance. Liam was a big bear of a man, with a hipster beard and the requisite ponytail, but a gentle giant, one of the kindest men she knew.

“Not too bad yourself,” Liam said.

Mack looked at her own waistcoat and pulled it to straighten it out. She loved the smart casual style. It just fit her, somehow, and the whole steampunk vibe fit her and her shop. Mack loved dressing up.

When Mack and her cousin Nikki used to play as children, Mack would always put on her uncle’s clothes and wear his aftershave. Now she could have fun dressing up every day and doing something she loved.