Wolfish in Sheep’s Clothing
Wolfish in Sheep’s Clothing
Marta Acosta
As Katherine Samuelson trudged up Princes Street, she cursed her best friend, Emma MacNeil, and she cursed the sleet that slanted down, making every step a chore.
Kathy tucked her chin to hold the handle of her umbrella, and balanced bags on each shoulder while dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her.
Edinburgh was supposed to be a high point of this vacation.
“It will be a life-changing experience,” Emma had said. “I can see it perfectly.”
“Not one of your visions,” Kathy had answered, trying to toss back her hair – but her dark reddish curls only bounced.
“I am a seer, you know that.” Emma’s own head toss had been much more successful, since her sandy blond hair was a long straight fall. “I have the famous MacNeil sight, and I see a man …”
“Emma, the way you look, I’m surprised you don’t see a whole army of men.”
“A man in a kilt.”
At that point, Kathy had laughed so hard that Emma had sulked until she apologised. They’d met when Kathy had answered an ad for a roommate, but since then Emma had gone through a dozen boyfriends and was now engaged.
Most of Emma’s predictions were easy to ignore.
Occasionally, however, Emma was unnervingly right, like the time that she’d begged Kathy not to go to a Christmas party that ended in tragedy when the holiday decorations caught fire.
So Kathy considered this outlandish vision.
Besides, she wanted to go on a trip with her friend.
She scrimped and saved for over a year. She sublet the space in her tiny knitting shop – Stitch in Time – to a quilter to hold classes.
When Emma cancelled at the last minute, Kathy was furious. Emma had said, “I’m sorry, but everything’s gone all on the wonk with Tommy and if I leave I’m afraid it will be over.”
“We’ll be over if you don’t come.”
“You don’t mean that. You want me to be happy.”
“You’ll be happy when you find your man in a kilt.”
“I didn’t see Tommy’s horrible knobby knees in my vision. Then I had the vision again and this time you were there in a sapphire blue coat. Don’t be mad, Kitty Kat.”
“Don’t call me that. In fact, don’t call me at all.”
What was supposed to be a grand adventure had turned into a lonely journey getting lost and fending off predatory men who were attracted to the solitary woman with gleaming mahogany curls.
Kathy had downgraded all her hotel reservations to save money because she lived by her parents’ credo: waste not, want not.
Now, she was exhausted, cold, and lost again as she approached a lavish hotel she had already passed twice. At least she had a warm coat.
The ultramarine lambswool coat had been her one extravagance.
When she’d seen it in the window of a boutique on the Avenue de l’Opéra, she’d stopped to stare.
The A-line style was so classic that the coat would always be chic.
Emma had said that she’d seen a sapphire blue coat in her vision.
It was a crazy thing to do, but Kathy bought it.
She had just paused to adjust her bags, when a sleek black Citroen sedan pulled up to the curb in front of the hotel ahead.
A doorman with an enormous umbrella escorted a couple out of the hotel as a parking valet jumped out of the car and opened the passenger door for a beautiful blonde woman. Then the parking valet rushed to hold the other door for a tall dark-haired man in a black trench coat.
When the tall man glanced at the valet, Kathy saw that he had high cheekbones, a long strong nose, dark eyes and a firm jaw. He was the sort of man who drove expensive new cars, dated beautiful blondes, and stayed in luxury hotels.
Kathy yearned for that confident, gorgeous, successful kind of man, that kind of life, one of elegance and luxury.
She forgot about her exhaustion as she watched him get into the car.
Then the car drove off and suddenly swerved into a puddle, splashing up a wave of filthy gutter water as it passed her.
Kathy looked down and saw the huge muddy splotches covering one side of her exquisite coat. She released the umbrella from under her chin, dropped her tote and said, “No, no, no!” Then she gathered her things up, her bags banging against her sides, and splashed up to the hotel.
A doorman tipped his hat to her. “Morning, madam.”
“That man splashed my coat when he drove by! You saw him. Who is he?”
The doorman looked at her with sympathy and his shoulders went up a little. “Apologies, but I don’t know.”
Before Kathy had been too embarrassed to ask at the hotel for directions, but now she stormed inside, her wheeled case rattling behind her. She saw a concierge at a side desk and went directly to the woman, who smiled pleasantly, noticed the dirty coat, and said, “Good day. May I help you?”
“Hello. One of your guests just ruined my coat. It’s brand new and … and he just left without even looking. Your doorman saw it all.”
“I apologise for your misfortune,” the concierge said in a calm, quiet voice.
“Thanks. If you could give me his name and contact info. He just left here with a blond woman and he was wearing a black trench.”
“I’m sorry, but we’re not at liberty to discuss guests’ private information.”
Kathy blinked back tears. “It’s a very expensive coat, the best thing I own …”
The manager dropped her voice and said, “We cannot discuss our guests, but if someone was not a guest … I think I recall the gentleman you mean. I believe he came for a meeting in one of the conference rooms, but I’m afraid I don’t know who he is.”
Kathy finally noticed her opulent surroundings and realized that her bags, her coat and even her hair were dripping on the fine carpet. “Maybe it can be dry-cleaned,” she said sadly.
“I’m sure it can.” A few minutes later, Kathy had a cleaner’s business card as well as a map with directions to her economy hotel.
The hotel was a narrow building on a narrow street.
The manager led her to a tiny, but clean room on the third floor with a cramped bathroom and a shallow armoire.
Kathy noticed the effort that had been made to make the room comfortable: an electric kettle and assortment of teas on a side table, a mixed bouquet of bright flowers in a vase, and pretty prints of the city.
The manager said, “Pity you’re visiting in this draich. You look like you’ve got the worst of it.”
“Someone splashed my coat when he drove by.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She made a tching sound.
As soon as she was alone, Kathy took off her coat and examined the muddy splotches.
She spread it out on the bed and used a wet facecloth and a bar of soap to dab at the marks.
It didn’t take long for Kathy to realize that the muddy water had contained motor oil and no amount of effort would remove the stains.
She sat on the thin mattress and wept. She could feel sorry for herself, or she could enjoy her holiday. Kathy wiped her eyes and decided to make the very best of today.
After all, it was her twenty-ninth birthday.
She unpacked and put all her things away neatly, because her mother had taught her, “A place for everything and every thing in its place.” Then Kathy made a cup of tea and drank it while studying a guidebook and a map.
When she felt revived, she put on her stained coat and went out to explore the city on foot.
The rain had let up to a steady drizzle, and Kathy did what she enjoyed, stopping in the knitting shops and examining the marvellous goods.
Even though she was still mad at Emma, she bought a robin’s-egg blue cashmere cardigan for her.
She saw a pair of chocolate brown lambskin gloves and she thought of how her mother would have liked them.
Kathy’s lunch was a packaged salad that she bought in a grocery store and quickly ate outside under an overhang. It wasn’t something she normally did, but the trip wasn’t normal for her either, and she felt unfettered and a bit reckless, like a well-behaved pet that discovers an open gate.
Then Kathy strolled to the National Museum and spent an hour viewing the fossils and artefacts. She kept returning to a richly textured painting of three sheep on a hilly landscape in a place called Orkney. She felt a sense of peace and happiness when she gazed at the rugged hills and stormy sky.
Darkness came early and Kathy returned to her hotel and rested.
Because of the occasion, she’d kept her reservation for dinner at one of the city’s best restaurants.
Emma had promised to treat her, and now Kathy missed her lunatic friend and thought of how Emma would have made her laugh about the careless jerk.
Kathy felt better after a shower. Her everyday clothes were cotton, so it was a treat to dress up. She began with her undergarments, wearing a black silk bra and panties. She hated the feel of nylon on her skin so now she carefully pulled on black silk thigh-high stockings with stretchy lace tops.
Then she put on a teal silk-knit jersey wrap-around dress with a deep v-neckline that accentuated her full breasts, made her waistline smaller, and flowed smoothly over the generous curve of her hips.
To counteract her winter pallor, she used dramatic dark shadow and kohl around her golden-hazel eyes, layers of mascara, and deep rosy lipgloss.
She slid her feet into black pumps with teetering narrow heels and added a lustrous gold cuff bracelet and earrings. Her ex-boyfriend had given them to her as a birthday present when she was twenty-three. It seemed like a long time ago.
When she looked in the mirror, she saw a sophisticated and sexy woman, not the pretty, but rather ordinary girl-next-door she really was. She grabbed her ruined coat and went downstairs.
The hotel manager said, “Why aren’t ye bonny! Special occasion, is it?”
“Yes, it’s my birthday. Can you tell me if there’s an internet café nearby?”
“Happy birthday! You can use the computer in our business centre, sweetie.”