The tailor's shop was cramped and dim. The only windows were at the front of the store, facing the street. But it was full of rolls of gaudy fabric on display and the glass looked like it hadn't been cleaned since the Ankh-Morpork civil war. Vord had been sure he saw some monarchist propaganda scrawled by finger in the grime.

He found it difficult to squeeze past the mannequins and bolts of cloth that clogged the inside of the store. Somewhere in the darkness ahead of him Butch and Tad were talking. He was about to call out when he tripped on a disembodied arm. He pulled his robes up above his knees so he could manoeuvre better then looked at the objects stacked everywhere around him and even hanging from the ceiling.

'Tad?'
'Yes puddin''?
Vord clenched his hands. 'I thought you said that we were going to get me some clothes?'
'We are darling.'
'But there aren't any clothes here.'

Michael and Butch put their hands over their mouths and snorted. Tad weaved his way back through the clutter like a shark moving through muddy shallows, swift and dangerous. He reached Vord and put an arm around the wizard's shoulders.

'Of not sweetie, Fashion moves far too quickly for William to waste time making something that isn't going to be worn that same night.'
Vord's forehead wrinkled. 'Doesn't that mean that, even if I do get a new outfit from him, it will be out of date by tomorrow?'
'Darling, by tomorrow it'll have been in, out, so out that the Beggar's Guild wouldn't take it and finally retro which is the same as in and you can wear it again once. But after that it's up to you to stay on the cutting edge.'
William the tailor held up a pair of unfeasibly large scissors from the far end of the room. The blades shone. As Tad helped Vord get through the store the wizard wondered, how the hell did any light get all the way down there?

----

William was an excellent example of the tailor's Guild, Vord had to admit. It wasn't long before Vord had been measured on every part of his body that could conceivably need clothing. At first the small wrinkled tailor had made motions for Vord to take off his robes but the wizard had quickly made it clear that that wasn't an option. Then Tad and Michael had started making comments about Vord's figure as the tailor stretched his measuring tape. He was glad when William finally said 'alright, that's all I need sir.'

Vord rearranged his robes as William noted down the figures.
'So, when do I get my new clothes?' he asked.
'Next week,' muttered the old man as he hunched back behind a pile of scraps that Vord assumed covered a workbench.
'A week?' He rounded on Tad. 'I thought you said Fashion gets outdated overnight?'
'Please sugar, relax. William is the best. It takes everyone else a week just to catch up.'
Vord pursed his lips. 'Fine… Where are you taking me next?'
'Back to your place,' said Butch. 'We're going to turn your apartments into the most fashionable three rooms in Ankh-Morpork!'

----

On Thimble Street Vord noticed a flash of blonde hair in the crowd ahead of them. A Watch helmet shone almost as bright above it and below… Vord swallowed thickly.

'Since when do they allow women in the Watch?' he asked.
Michael scanned the crowd for a second, looking for what had caught Vord's eye. 'Oh, you mean Angua? They didn't want to let her in, but she has a certain je ne sais quois that wouldn't be refused, as they say in Pseudopolis. I'm grateful personally. She opened the way for all of us.'

Vord began to walk at an angle away from Michael then realised that this brought him closer to Tad. He contemplated heading toward Butch before deciding that, of the three men he was with, he found none less concerning than any of the others.
'I feel like I've seen her before, but I can't think where,' he said.
'Let's find out,' said Butch. 'Hey, Angua! Over here!'

The woman turned sharply and Vord found himself staring into one of the most penetrating gazes he'd ever come across. She's worse than that witch doctor with the mushrooms, he thought. Angua moved through the press of people to them and Vord noticed how the crowd moved carefully out of her way.

'Hello Butch. Is there a problem?' She didn't take her eyes off Vord.
'Not at all. Our new friend Vord here thought he recognised you. Can you think why he might know you?'
'Vord. The wizard? Recently returned to Ankh-Morpork?'
He nodded.
'We haven't met before. But I have heard quite a bit about you.' She sniffed. 'I've been looking into a death over at Unseen University. Maybe that's where you saw me?'

She's right. Vord remembered her now, a few days ago in the Great Hall. He'd watched the Watchman… watchwoman… go up to a few wizards during breakfast. She's the nosey one. He smiled at her.
'That must be it. It's a pleasure to meet you my dear.' He held out his hand. She took it in a firm grip and shook once. I have to make sure Gerrick keeps her occupied.

'It was nice to finally get a face to match to the name,' Angua said. She smiled and Vord was disturbed by the remarkably pointed nature of her very-white teeth. She exchanged a few meaningless pleasantries with the other three then moved off into the citizenry again.

As they continued back to the University, Vord found he couldn't get her teeth out of his mind. So he asked the question that kept rising in his mind.
'No way!' answered Michael. 'There's no way Angua's a vampire! I've personally seen her in the brightest sunlight, eating garlic, you name it. I mean, come on, how could she be a watchman… watchwoman… if she could only go into places she had been invited?'
'It would make raids slightly inconvenient,' Vord conceded.

----

The four of them were soon back in the halls of Unseen University, walking past groups of wizards and student talking together. Vord realised one of the wizards was giving him a funny look, part suspicion, part awe. Why is he the only one? Vord had to remind himself to take slow steps.

They stopped outside his apartment.
'Shut your eyes Vord, we're about to shock you with a fantastic new life,' said Tad, with his hand on the doorknob. Vord sighed and did as he was told.
Tad swung the door open. 'Well, are you gob smacked?'
Vord opened his eyes. 'That's one way of putting it.'
'Tad, what on the disc!' Michael shrieked.

The room beyond the door was even more of a shambles than it had been before they left. There were harsh wounds in the walls and pieces of furniture, old and new, lay scattered across the floor; there was even a massive set of drawers balanced upside down on one of its corners. Julian was crawling towards the door, his tattered clothes revealing bruises and grazes. He held out a hand and moaned, 'what happened?'
'What do you mean what happened?' Butch raced inside to help Julian stand up. 'That's what I was going to ask you!'
Tad and Michael moved in to watch the corners of the room as Butch and Julian came out. Vord just smiled and crossed his arms.

'Where's Jack?' Tad asked Julian.
'I don't know. I heard squealing and a door slam, but I was in the kitchen…'
Vord stepped forward. 'I imagine he's alright, though he may have fled far from the University by now.
The redecorators looked at him. 'How in the world could you know that?' asked Butch.
'I don't know for sure,' admitted Vord. 'But it certainly seems that your guild doesn't have up to date information on redecorating for wizards.' He strolled closer to the group, fingering his beard. 'Touching things that didn't want to be touched. Opening things that should stay closed. Being where you shouldn't be.' His eyes bored into the four.

'Go on,' he said, stepping aside. 'I'm sure you'll meet Jack back at the guild. If not, let me know and I'll see what I can do.
As Vord watched them stagger down the hallway with surprising speed, he remembered something. 'Oh, thank you for all these wonderful new thing by the way! You've been very helpful.'
He chuckled as he shut the door then turned to survey the room. He rubbed his hands together and descended with purpose on his books of notes, strewn over the floor.