the caravan as Christian is less keen on an audience of inattentive puppies and it’s too cold to cut my hair outside in the yard as he often does.
While he makes himself some tea, I quickly wash my hair. As Christian will see what state it’s in, I throw on some conditioner too.
‘I’m going to Shelby’s opening night tomorrow,’ I tell him when I’m seated in the kitchen area and he’s snipping away. ‘I suppose I should make an effort.’
He laughs at my reticence. ‘That’s the spirit.’
‘You know that I prefer animals over people any day of the week.’
‘I’m very honoured that you tolerate me,’ he says. ‘I’ll be there too.’
‘You will?’ That cheers me immensely. ‘At least there’ll be one friendly face I know.’
‘I’ll see if we can sit together. Is my delicious godson coming?’
‘Sore point. Lucas won’t even consider it.’
‘That’s a shame. We could have fun together.’
‘He’s out riding at the moment, but I’ll put it to him when he comes back. He might change his mind if he knows you’ll be there.’
‘I hope so. I haven’t seen him for ages. Is he well? Behaving?’
‘Yes, he’s doing fine. He’s such a bright boy.’
‘Still writing his poetry?’
‘Yes. I hope you’ll come along to our open day and nativity. He’s doing a poem for that.’
‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world, darling – diary permitting. It’s my busiest time of the year.’
‘I’m not sure Shelby will be around. He’s so tied up with this panto.’
‘Is everything OK with Shelby, too? I’ve only seen him a couple of times, but he seems strange, distracted.’
‘I don’t really see a lot of him now that he’s based in Birmingham,’ I confess.
‘It’s nothing personal, Molly. I know his lifestyle takes some adjusting to. It’s just the way his job works.’
‘I know.’ But, if I’m honest, I’m only now beginning to realise just how much.
‘There’s nothing else on his mind?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Good,’ he says. ‘It must be nerve-wracking for him being back on stage again. I’m probably being over-sensitive.’
I hadn’t really considered that and I feel bad that Shelby and I haven’t talked much about it. I’m determined that I’ll put aside my desire to hide away on the farm and be by his side.
When Christian’s finished, he dries my hair and I look in the mirror in my bedroom. My hair looks great. Like proper hair without additional straw. As always, he manages to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.
He kisses my cheek. ‘Catch you tomorrow night, sweetie.’
‘Thanks, Christian.’
I see him out of the gate and lean on it as I watch him drive away. Bev comes to lean on the top rung next to me.
‘Nice guy,’ she says.
‘The best.’
‘I’ve booked you in for a manicure, pedicure and a full-leg and Hollywood wax tomorrow morning.’
‘What?’ I have no idea what this is, but I suspect I won’t like it.
‘Don’t worry,’ she says. ‘It’ll be fine. I can’t have you turning up to a premiere looking like you’ve been dragged through a hedge. Especially now your hair’s all fancy. I’ve asked her to do your make-up, too.’
There’s no way I’m getting out of this, so I grit my teeth and say, ‘Thanks Bev, you’re a pal.’
Chapter Thirty-Four
I have EVERYTHING waxed. This is what they do in Hollywood? Seriously? I’m not entirely sure that I need it in Buckinghamshire. It’s agony. And a bit chilly. The beautician complains at the state of my fingernails and toenails – one of which is a blossoming shade of black thanks to Johnny Rotten stamping on it. She does, however, make a marvellous job of making me look like a person who cares about these things. Then she puts many, many layers of make-up on my face. So much that I hardly recognise myself in the mirror. Plus, my hair still looks nice from its attention yesterday and that’s a first too. Shelby had better appreciate all the trouble that Bev has gone through to pimp me up. Wait till I see her.
As I rush back toward my car, head down, arms pumping, I bump into the mayor.
‘Molly!’ he says and stares openly at me. He seems quite startled by my transformation. Perhaps he didn’t recognise me without mud in my hair and looking borderline glamorous.
‘Oh, hi.’
‘Good to see you. What are you doing in town?’
‘Just a few errands.’ I’m hardly going to tell him about my newly groomed nether regions.
‘I have half an hour before my car park ticket runs out. I don’t suppose you’ve got