'You've been, er, you've been trying to hide your face from me ... oh. Did someone hit you?'
'No, sir!'
'Only your eyes look a bit bruised and your lips-'
'I'm fine, sir!' said Cheery desperately.
'Oh, well, if you say so. I'll... er, I'll... look for Sergeant Colon, then ...
He backed out, embarrassed.
That left the two of them. All girls together, thought Angua. One normal girl between the two of us, at any rate.
'I don't think the mascara works,' Angua said. 'The lipstick's fine but the mascara... I don't think so.'
'I think I need practice.'
'You sure you want to keep the beard?'
'You don't mean... shave? Cheery backed away.
'All right, all right. What about the iron helmet?'
'It belonged to my grandmother! It's dwarfish!'
'Fine. Fine. Okay. You've made a good start, anyway.'
'Er ... what do you think of ... this?' said Cheery, handing her a bit of paper.
Angua read it. It was a list of names, although most of them were crossed out:
Cheery Littlebottom
Cherry
Sherry
Sherri
Lucinda Littlebottom
Sharry
Sharri
Cheri
'Er ... what do you think?' said Cheery nervously.
' Lucinda ?' said Angua, raising her eyebrows.
'I've always liked the sound of the name.'
' Cheri is nice,' said Angua. 'And it is rather like the one you've got already. The way people spell in this town, no one will actually notice unless you point it out to them.'
Cheery's shoulders sagged with released tension. When you've made up your mind to shout out who you are to the world, it's a relief to know that you can do it in a whisper.
' Cheri' , thought Angua. Now, what does that name conjure up? Does the mental picture include iron boots, iron helmet, a small worried face and a long beard?