look like dental floss’ in my hair.
While I wouldn’t say I actually enjoy the job, I’ve fallen into a routine. Kathryn tries to psych me out sometimes but I ignore her. I’ve met worse than her. Aggie, the cook, is a little cold towards me. She’s perfectly polite and makes small-talk over lunch or if I’m in the kitchen preparing one of Elspeth’s many cups of tea, but I feel she’s holding something back. I’m sure I’m one in a long line of companions who have come and gone over the years. Perhaps she thinks I won’t last long so there’s little point in getting too attached to me. Or maybe she thinks I’m a weirdo with my pink-streaked hair, the ring in my nose and my tie-dye harem trousers. I don’t look like I fit in with this posh house and all its finery, I know that. Frankly, I’m surprised they gave me the job. Maybe there weren’t many applicants.
It’s Saturday, my day off, and I decide to head to Gloucester Road for a change. It’s a sunny day, fresh, hopeful. Hot-air balloons float in the distance, children are running about on the green fields adjacent to the suspension bridge, and couples walk arm in arm, their dogs beside them. There are people sitting outside cafés, families, lovers and friends. There’s still a nip in the air but next week it will be April. I’m wearing my favourite floral bomber jacket with loose-fitting silk trousers and cherry-coloured DM boots. I’ve got an appointment at a hair salon. I found a card in my room – it must have been left by my predecessor. The card was funky with bright colours and snazzy fonts. I knew I’d never be able to afford the place Elspeth goes to, so I thought I’d give A Cut Above a try.
The place is just as I’d imagined, all bright lights and loud music and hip stylists with radical haircuts. Radical is good. I’m waiting in Reception as instructed and flicking through Cosmopolitan when a girl with bright copper hair approaches me. It’s so long it has to be extensions, I think, as I follow her through to a chair right at the end of the room next to the sinks.
‘How can I help you today?’ says the girl, as she assists me into a gown and I take a seat. She has very white teeth and thick, well-groomed eyebrows. She doesn’t offer her name but she looks about my age. I wonder how much experience she has. Her skin is a flawless beige and I’m sure she’s wearing fake eyelashes. They look as though they’re weighing her eyes down, which, on closer inspection, look puffy as though she’s not slept. Her heavy foundation isn’t concealing the dark circles I detect either. She doesn’t appear particularly friendly, not like the hairdressers I’ve had in the past, who natter away about their boyfriends and holidays and Love Island. She looks like the type who wouldn’t be out of place as one of the popular mean girls in a US high-school drama.
I take a strand of pink between my fingers. ‘I’m getting bored of the colour. Can I change it to blue?’
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. ‘Sure, but I’m going to have to bleach it first.’ She scoops up a handful of my hair. ‘It’s not great for the condition. Can I suggest you go back to your natural colour, then come in a few months to put in the blue?’
I wanted the blue to piss off stuck-up Kathryn. But maybe it’s not a bad idea. Especially as I’m new to the job. Perhaps I’ll impress the old lady, make her think I’m serious about the role. So I agree.
She runs her hands through my hair. ‘Your last hairdresser overdid it a little on the pink,’ she says, frowning.
I laugh. There’s something straight to the point about this girl that’s refreshing. ‘Yep. It was one of my friends. She didn’t really know what she was doing.’
A smile tugs at the edges of her lips. ‘I can see that. Do you want any cut?’
Cut? I haven’t had my hair cut in seven years. ‘No, thanks. I like it this length.’
She looks doubtful and meets my eyes in the large rectangular mirror in front of me. ‘I could take the ends off? Make it healthier?’
Not on your life. After the last hairdresser promised to ‘take the ends off’ I finished up with it on my shoulders.