Chapter 5
While it is commonly acknowledged that humankind has an ingrained prejudice against those they consider different to themselves, nothing gets quite so under a person’s skin as seeing another who sharply reflects their own traits, like a mirror in too harsh a light.
In form and philosophy there would be few individuals on earth more similar than the fastidious Lucy Elliot and the technical Elsa Reinhardt.
True, they were not so alike in appearance.
The most obvious difference was the pair of glasses that rested delicately on the bridge of the Swiss woman’s nose.
This accessory, and several other differences in style, had been points of consternation for Lucy, and she had regularly explained to others that, while they shared similarities, there was absolutely no mistaking one for another.
Yet their height and stature were such that each woman’s garments would almost perfectly fit the other, in form if not in fashion.
But Lucy tended towards lighter shades of dress, adjusting to the fashion of the time, currently a sleek tan cloak; Elsa, towards deeper, darker colours, usually in the form of a long coat.
Both had a similar shade of dark-brown hair, though Lucy had taken pains to detail to Molly that her own hair tinted gold under lamplight while Elsa’s tinted red.
Furthermore, a gold tint to hair was better highlighted by a braided chignon, which Lucy insisted on, whereas a red tint was better accentuated by a simple bun, which the Swiss woman stubbornly refused.
Instead, she maintained a long single braid halfway down her back, which swayed defiantly as she walked, every flick an affront to the cultured sensibilities of Lucy Elliot.
With such deliberate provocation to navigate, Lucy kept their conversation focused on the technical.
‘I see you installed a dual-spring system,’ Lucy opened politely.
‘A slight modification. It will improve control on uneven ground,’ Elsa replied, her accent faint and her English frustratingly flawless.
‘You must be anxious to see how it races for the first time.’
‘Not at all. I have, obviously, tested it thoroughly.’
‘But testing is not racing.’
‘True.’ The woman’s eyes narrowed behind her glasses. ‘In honesty, I am more at home in testing than racing.’
‘Dante says he can keep speed on hard turns.’
‘I am confident he can. At least until I can compensate for the suspension.’
‘Well,’ Lucy suggested, ‘a dampener mechanism controlled by the angle of the front axle could lessen the spring time. Obviously.’
‘Yes.’ The eyeglasses quivered slightly. ‘I do hope you enjoy the races, Fr?ulein Elliot.’
‘I believe I shall, Miss Reinhardt.’
Lucy allowed herself a very faint smile that disappeared, almost immediately, as the woman walked away, her braid swaying scornfully.