IX.

The days following Dintman's demise, and subsequent disposal, serve as a significant departure from the relative easygoing calm of before, as Marianne and Luella become ardently focused on maintaining an aura of normalcy, about the storefront of Dintman's Delights: so as to deter any prying suspicions about the sudden disappearance of its enigmatic owner.

"He stumbled out of here, late one evening. As he's known to do." Marianne would give in reply, to those still curious--smiling through her devil's fangs. "I haven't the faintest idea of when he'll return."

"I suppose, for now that leaves me in charge."

Luella, in her red hood worn as a disguise, keeps mostly contained to the background; more than anything, she serves as Marianne's stalwart companion through all this--such as on one particularly slow day, when Marianne is feverishly striding between the aisles, ensuring every strange article for sale is arranged in its perfect place.

"Are you still quite sane?" Luella approaches her and asks softly.

Marianne replies with an urgent nod.

"Yes! I thank you for asking." She says, without any moment of pause introduced to her frivolous task. "I say, for a place that is meant to appeal to purchaser's eyes, this is a sore spectacle indeed! Perhaps, with its incompetent former owner gone, this place might finally recieve a proper dust--"

Luella pulls Marianne by the waist, turning her from the shelf.

"Love, you need some fresh air."

"N-n-no! It is as I said: I am perfectly fine!"

Marianne makes a move to resume her activity, but Luella blocks her again.

"From morning when you wake to sundown, when your bustling soul takes roost, you haven't had a moment's calm in days!" She pleads. "You're not fine--you're nervous wreck, is what you are!"

Marianne groans, letting some fragments of her withheld worry show in her face.

She retreats to a chair at the front counter.

"Every moment...I am so terrified, Lu."

Luella joins her side, massaging her shoulders.

"Shh. It's important you find time to relax."

"It's not like we shall immediately be found guilty, should we leave the store closed for a meager second--just to be out and enjoying ourselves."

A faint sliver of a smile forms across Marianne's lips as she touches Luella's wrist.

"Your words ring true, as always," she says, looking up to her warmly, as her demeanor presently shifts to a concentrated frown. "I only wonder, where is left for us to possibly go, in this boorish town?"

Luella wraps her from behind, burrowing her face into Marianne's neck with a kiss, whispering softly:

"It may be time..to seek beyond the horizon."

Marianne directly lunges from her chair.

She bears a marked intensity, with her eyes glared--albeit with faded pupils--and chest visibly throbbing.

"Never. Our horizons are now but sealed wax."

"Leaving the town now would certainly condemn us to suspicion!"

"We'd be living on the run--as fugitives!"

Undeterred, Luella advances to her. "Is it not that freedom--even if lived constantly on the run--not preferable to our current cozy, albeit dusty little prison cell?"

It is a deeply philosophical question, but one that shall here be resolved through vacant charms: as Luella takes Marianne'a hands, gently swinging their united arms to and fro; until Marianne, after enduring a while of this, finally cracks and gives a relenting sigh.

"Well...I would hardly consider our present circumstances 'cozy--'"

"All the more reason!" Luella exclaims, doggedly moving in on Marianne--until her head is pressed against her chest, as she's tenderly stroking her hair, staring lovingly into her eyes.

"I love you, May; so it matters not where we go, so long as we're together."

Marianne is moved beyond words: the words catch in her throat, as does her capacity for reason stifle: for, although it strictly goes against her very design, she is thus persuaded into mirroring this same steadfast resolve, and unwavering faith in another.

She embraces Luella, pulling her close as she can be; wanting never to let her go.

"Fine! You've made your case. I'll think on it."

Luella hums in approval.

"Do think fast, May. Only a week remains."

A newspaper on the stands that morning, however--glimpsed by the two as they're out for a refreshing stroll--incites within them an all-new sense of urgency...

It, bearing a front page headline since Sunday, which reads:

"Unidentified body, found in alleyway."

**********

The following day starts out very business-as-usual.

Marianne is tending to a few early morning patrons, albeit at a more relaxed pace than previously, contemplating plans she and Luella had discussed last night.

Tonight, they will go.

They will travel, by foot, to the next town over, and hitch a carriage.

From there, they will ride into the countryside.

Fate shall decide what transpires after, but the intent is to roost a few nights at whatever by-the-way hovels will host them, or even in the wilderness if need be, before eventually they'll arrive upon some dillapidated, unremembered old countryhouse, being sold for a shilling, and making it theirs.

It is not, by any means, a solid plan; indeed, Marianne'a heart trembles--at the thought of willfully embarking on such a recklessly youthful escapade, only made more tolerable with the added consideration of Luella: being there every step of the way, sharing in every ounce of the miseries and triumphs that surely await.

What a whirlwind her life had become, practically overnight.

A "pair of young, lesbian lovers, wanted as outlaws for murder"--she chuckles, picturing the news headlines that would spring up in their wake: once the identity of the discovered corpse was determined, and her subsequent speedy absence noted, with witnesses describing how "oddly comfortable" she had appeared to be, in the private company of her likewise mysteriously untraceable shop assistant.

However, the day at hand is unremarkable.

Luella is sweeping the floor, and Marianne is seeing the last few customers of the morning out the door, along with their new purchase--one "lacquer lion statue, from Guinea."

Every contribution will help them on the journey ahead.

It is then, a shocking twist is introduced:

Mr. Lafferty walks in through the glass-panelled entrance doors, looking scarcely any different from how Marianne remembers him--since all those years ago, when she had finally left his employ, after serving his sadistic whims for nearly two years.

The monster that still haunted her nightmares.

Ms. Lafferty shadows him, clinging to his arm, frowning with soulless eyes--a withered rose of her former self.

Luella, dropping her broom, turns to flee--

"Don't bother." Mr. Lafferty confronts her coldly. "There is nowhere else for you to run."

She halts, glancing at Marianne in panic.

Marianne is frozen, her mouth ajar.

"You--" Ms. Lafferty growls, her gaze sharpened as she shuffles noisily toward Luella in her billowy dress and clicking shoes--rearing her arm back before delivering an unrelented, stinging slap, right against Luella's cheek.

Marianne gasps. Mr. Lafferty peers away.

There is utter silence, as Luella recuperates herself, her hood falling slowly as a glare of unexpressed fury becomes seared, unto her brightly reddened face.

"I was worried sick about you!" Ms. Lafferty says, bursting into tears.

Luella says nothing, sourly averting her eyes.

"After the tantrum you pulled at the gala, everyone was so shocked!"

"After you stormed out, they all were talking..."

She raises her arm, verging on doling another hard slap.

"It was an absolute, bloody disgrace!"

Just as her arm is falling, as Luella is wincing in expectation, Mr. Lafferty intervenes--catching and restraining her arm in midair.

"That's quite enough, Lillina."

"I am as outraged with our daughter as you are, but this is no way to handle it."

Marianne sees Luella's fists clench at her side.

"I am NOT your fucking daughter!" She snaps furiously.

"Nor shall I marry Chevalier!"

Ms. Lafferty looks as though she's raring to lunge, but Mr. Lafferty gently brushes her aside--advancing toward Luella in calm, even steps, his steely gaze fixed firmly on her.

"Luella...do not assume I am not presently already aware of what you're hiding."

He points to Marianne, across the room.

"There's a reason you sought out this one, before any other." He says, prompting Luella's eyes to widen. "You fancy yourself...in love, with this peasant-girl, don't you?"

Luella shakes her head. "No! Marianne is--"

"Holding hands, while out strolling through the park! Kissing, embracing, and sharing fully nude baths..."

Marianne is stunned, in disbelief.

How could he know, in such intimate detail?

Has he had his eyes on them all this time?

Ms. Lafferty looks at Luella in horror.

"You're a..." Her eyes, filled with madness and disgust, glance up and down at Luella.

"Filthy whore!"

Marianne, by this point, has seen and heard enough.

At once, her timidness melts away as she runs from behind the counter to stand at Luella's, taking her strongly by the hand--facing the elder Lafferties, together alongside her, with prideful determination.

"That is correct, Mr. Lafferty!" She declares.

"Luella and I are partners, sworn to each other!"

"The marriage...shall not be upheld!"

Luella smiles at her, eyes watering with joy.

Ms. Lafferty is stricken beyond words at this spectacle.

Mr. Lafferty, by contrast, remains composed.

A familiar, devilish grin spreads across his features.

"You're far more outspoken these days, Mary."

"And you're still a pompous ass."

Her response is sharp, but she is already sweating under his intense scrutiny.

Her mask of confidence is beginning to slip.

Mr. Lafferty turns, inspecting a nearby display.

"Dintman's Delights...an antiques and curios store, first built and operated by Graham Dintman, who was a fine friend and business associate of mine, and then passed on to his son, Arthur, after his death."

"Sadly, with Arthur at the helm, I recall the storefront had fallen into quite a...disarray."

"Cobwebs...accumulated dirt, and grime..."

He proceeds to run a finger along the display shelf, then lift it up at Marianne to reveal--

Not a speck. It's perfectly clean.

Marianne watches him tensely, unsure of where this idle talk might be leading, yet possessing no doubts regarding the sly cunning of the man before her, nor his skills of rhetoric.

"What point are you angling for, Mr. Lafferty?"

He gives a quick ear-to-grin, letting it fall back into a serious frown.

"I am simply saying, it's clear to me that..."

He ceases his idling, fixing on Marianne.

"Dintman's Delights...has recently fallen under new management."

What remained of Marianne's facade is instantly broken--she backs away, letting go of Luella's hand, as though struck, appreciating the underlying subtext of his words, combined with the drawn-out delivery, as well as that dastardly, wicked smile.

Somehow, she realizes, Mr. Lafferty has become almost all-knowing.

He knows that she killed Arthur Dintman.

Mr. Lafferty grabs ahold of Luella, ignoring her kicks and screams as he piles her unto his shoulder, like the stubborn child she is, then pushimg through the door to leave.

Marianne follows outside, watching Luella--her love--be piled into a horse carriage.

Before it speeds off, they lock gazes one last time: Luella look exhausted, reluctantly accepting of her fate, as well as the notion that she had tried to fight it, and lost; Marianne is devastated, but holding on to a thread of hope, believing this is not how it is destined to end.

A week still remains until the ship is scheduled to arrive in the harbor.

Knowing this, she isn't going to sit idly by, like she always has--allowing others to control and manipulate her, as they please, to suit their own ends and needs.

Marianne, for once, is determined.

She will fight for Luella'a freedom: to the bitter, dying end.