Flora put Dexter down on the floor, and he ran to Mack, who ruffled his ears. “Did you have fun with Flo?”

Dexter barked.

Flora walked around the seats and looked at the decor. “It really is lovely. Both our shops have a kind of Victorian feeling.”

“That’s true. I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Why is it called Mack the Knife? Is it your favourite song?”

How to explain you were called that because you were a gangland enforcer that used an open razor as a weapon?

“Not my favourite, but my theme song maybe?” Mack joked. “No, my middle name is Mackie, my granny’s maiden name. The family always called me that as I grew up, and they realized what a tomboy I was. The knife bit came as I got older and trained as a barber.” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her trusty, extremely sharp open razor.

“Oh, I get it,” Flora said.

Mack had gotten away with it so far. What would Flora think when she knew the truth? Flora was a sheltered middle-class woman, whose life hadn’t been touched by the grimy Glasgow underworld.

Her open razor became her weapon of choice through necessity. Carrying knives had been illegal and still was, largely because of the gang culture in most Scottish towns. But you could carry them for work purposes—a chef, a fisherman, or a barber like her.

So Mack the Knife and The Barber became her titles in the underworld.

Flora walked further into the shop and said, “Your videos on YouTube don’t do it justice.”

“You’ve watched them then?” Mack said.

Flora smiled shyly. “Yes, I’ve watched a few.”

“I’m glad you like the channel. It’s a lot of fun. Here”—Mack spun round the barber chair and said—“sit down.” Mack sat opposite her and noticed Flora rubbing the tip of her nose and tapping next to her collarbone. She did this when she was nervous, Mack had noticed. “You’re like a little mouse.”

“What? Why?” Flora asked.

Mack rubbed the tip of her nose, and she immediately saw Flora’s eyes go wide with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry. It’s just a silly habit.”

Great, now she’d made Flora uncomfortable. “Hey, it’s sweet. Don’t ever feel bad about anything you do.”

Flora smiled. “So did Isy get home okay?”

“Yeah, her grandpa and Murdo came and picked her up. Thanks for being so nice to her. She loved seeing around the shop. I’ve not seen her so happy and excited in a long time.”

“I’m glad she enjoyed it. She’s a lovely girl,” Flora said.

“She definitely did enjoy it. There’s something magical about a traditional sweet shop, isn’t there?” Mack said.