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On one particular day, while carrying the hand basket for Penny, I noticed a well-dressed but matronly figured woman shopping almost exclusively for booze. Well that’s all her trolley contained, bottles of spirits, other than a bag of dog biscuits. I guess her age was mid-fifties to late-fifties, about thirty years older than us. Her hair was clearly coloured to disguise her grey hair and had that odd blue tinge to it that older woman seem to go for. What caught my eye though was an expensive brand of malt whisky in her trolley, emphasised by a large electronic security tag enveloping the cap. She’d loaded up other expensive brands as well, yet no mixers or soft drinks. She didn’t seem the party type so I wondered if she was an alcoholic, if she was she was blessed with good taste because all the booze was top shelf.While Penny and I were queuing at the quick serve counter with our meagre selection of perishables in a hand basket, I noticed that Mrs Blue-Rinse pushed her trolley past. None of those were out of the question, but how they would manifest was a different matter. Tears, if it was me, probably. But that’s not Alistair’s usual go-to. And there was shock, I had no doubt. But unlike me, after a pregnant pause where I could nearly see the gears turning in his head, he nodded, seeming completely calm, and asked, “So where are you hiding her?”“H-hiding?” I blinked, taken aback by his underwhelming reaction.He nodded. “I assumed, given that the world cannot find out who she is to me, that you’d have her hidden somewhere.”I shook my head to clear it. “Oh! No, we just told everyone she’s the First Enchanter here on Chantry business.” I reached up and cupped his cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you yesterday, but I didn’t want to take the chance of anyone overhearing it on the sending stone.” He just nodded. “Are ... are you okay?”He looked at me, his brows furrowing. “I don’t really know.” He turned his head and kissed my palm. “Might as well get this over with,.
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