Dr. Lindel wasn't very old at all. She seemed about mid-thirties, wearing her brown hair pulled back from her face. Her face, thus revealed, was broad... with an easy smile and bright eyes that helped to immediately put James at ease."Hi Margaret. Or do you still prefer James?" the woman asked, with no trace of sarcasm in her words."I uh, I'm still trying to get used to Maggie." James mumbled, a bit taken aback to being called by her male name. Over the past few days the only way he had heard it. ‘Here for the show, ladies?’ The colossal black bouncer beamed down at them from above his bow tie. ‘Quentin, this is Emma,’ said Rebekah. ‘It’s her first time here.’ ‘Performing?’ said Quentin. Emma snorted. ‘Not a chance,’ she said. Quentin ushered them through the door, out of the litter-strewn, seedy bustle of Soho and into the velvet faux-luxury of the cabaret bar. They bought their tickets from the box office, handed their coats in to the cloakroom, and stepped into the small, dimly lit. More

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