Sovay by Celia Rees

to a refrain that she woke up humming and could not get out of her head.
    Sovay’s mind had returned to the scenes of the day, but dreams are without compass and dreamers are free to go where they will without the constraints that waking life might put upon them. She had started from sleep in a state of heightened excitement, experiencing again the thrilling danger of that wild chase across the heath and the feeling that this was by far the most exhilarating day that she had so far spent in her life. She found it impossible to unravel what was real and what was not from among the images and sensations that crowded in upon her. Some of the images she had seen that day, the places she had been, seemed to belong more in the realm of dreams, although she knew them to be real.
    Captain Greenwood had promised to find her female attire and he had taken her to a tall, crooked house in Covent Garden, full of the most bizarre people. The harridan with the vibrant hair and rotten teeth was called Mother Pierce. Her eyes were small and round, like beads on an abacus, and in her house everything was for sale, even if she had never encountered the request before. She had her hand out to the Captain as soon as they came through the door. Sovay had been conducted up the stairs by a pretty young woman in an abundant curling wig. Her heart-shaped face was rouged and painted, the brows above her pale blue eyes plucked to a thin line and she was wearing a low-cut gown. It was not until she spoke that Sovay realised that she was a boy. Such was the order of the day at Mother Pierce’s. Sovay refused to think about the reason for this, or what went on there. The pictures on the walls were hint enough. She was nervous of meeting any customers, but it was still early, so business was slack just yet, the boy informed her. She was mighty relieved about that. The boy laughed and addressed her with easy confidence, as though she was familiar with the ways of such establishments. His name was Toby, he said with a toss of his curly wig, and he was doing this just until he could buy himself an apprenticeship. The Captain had snorted at this, pronouncing that all whores had some story about how they would climb to respectability, but Sovay liked the boy and hoped that he would escape from Mother Pierce’s clutches. He had brought her clothes to wear, the soberest he could find. The gown was still rather gaudy even after Toby had removed most of the frills and flounces, and so low cut that it made Sovay blush.
    ‘Clean, though,’ Toby announced cheerfully. ‘Just come back from the laundry.’
    Sovay reflected that there were some things to be grateful for at least. Downstairs, the Captain was waiting, striding about with impatience. He whistled when he saw her and his face broke into a grin.
    ‘You were handsome dressed as a boy, but this suits you much better. Come.’ He put his gloved hand out to conduct her. ‘I will find a chair for you. You will be home in a trice. Miss Sovay again.’
    ‘I’m not normally so attired,’ she replied, looking down at the plunging décolletage.
    ‘That’s a pity.’ His smile widened and his dark blue eyes gleamed with amusement.
    Sovay was searching for some suitable retort when she realised that he was teasing her and it was probably best to keep silent.
    Mother Pierce came out of the little booth that served as her office.
    ‘You off now, Captain?’ She turned to Sovay. ‘I’ll be expecting them back, young lady. I ain’t made of money.’
    ‘Now, Ma.’ The Captain wagged his finger at her. ‘I’ve paid for those rags twice over.’
    ‘Rags, is it?’ Mother Pierce’s carmined cheeks reddened further. ‘I’ll have you know my girls wear the finest Mayfair can offer! No better quality anywhere in the Garden.’
    ‘Oh, Ma,’ the Captain caressed her cheek, ‘your anger inflames me so.’
    He seized Mother Pierce about the waist and whirled her round, much to the amusement of her ‘girls’