you something a bit more chi-chi?’
‘We’ll see. I might be moving this week, as a matter of fact.’
Jane saw her own face fall in the mirror even as Suzy was powdering it. She’d been thinking of what she could do with Glenda’s room. Get rid of all her rubbish. Buy a nice big mirror second-hand somewhere. Paint it, even. But she didn’t really fancy staying on in the flat on her own with some strange Lorna living in the box room and doing the washing up.
‘Chin up, Janey. I need to do your lips. Janey might be moving too. I only met Janey today. You remember that lovely crocodile bag I got?’
Terry pulled a funny face. ‘Yes, duckie. One of your more memorable adventures.’
What adventures? But Suzy gave a little frown and shook her head. Subject closed.
‘Anyway. I left the bloody thing under a chair in that ghastly pub Dickie always goes to and Janey found it and then found me and gave it right back. Two hundred quid in cash, the lot. I’m not joking, Janey darling.’ She looked straight at Jane in the mirror. It was like talking to her reflection on the dressing table after work, paying herself compliments. ‘I’m really not joking. I don’t know a single soul on this earth who wouldn’t have taken the money and kept the bag for themselves. Not a single soul.’
‘Well it’s no bloody wonder with that crowd. God! I had that Madge in the salon this morning. No normal person wants their hair done at half eight.’
‘I wondered where she’d been. Did you dye it that colour just for a lark?’
‘Not likely. You don’t pull strokes like that with Madge, babe. She’d break your fingers. No. She actually bloody chose it. With her figure and that striped number she looked like a fucking Belisha beacon. There.’ He stood back to scowl at his work. ‘That’s the best we can do, I suppose.’
He’d got one French pleat going clockwise, the other anti-clockwise, and there was a long curl escaping down on to the shoulder – opposite shoulders. Jane thought it looked a bit contrived but they seemed pleased enough.
‘Get your drawers on, girls. I haven’t got all night.’
He put away his gear then sat on the stool smoking a smelly French cigarette while they dressed.
Suzy hung her towel over the top of the door and quickly wriggled into stockings and suspender belt. No panty girdle this time. And no panties. Then she stepped into her dress.
‘You are a very, very dirty little girl – you know that?’
‘Just shut up and zip up, Terry Thomson.’
And there they both were. Like bookends.
‘Not bad. Not at all bad. You ought to have another word with that Dickie. You could probably get quite a lot of photographic work with a gimmick like that. Especially bras, with your Advantages.’
‘No thanks. Do lingerie and you never do anything else. Look what happened to Gloria.’
‘Eight guineas a day and a nice little flat in St John’s Wood? You should be so lucky, dear.’ Terry wound the flex round his hairdryer and tied Jane’s spare hair in a knot held in place with a hairclip.
‘Do you still do Gloria? What colour is she these days?’
‘No idea, duckie. She started wanting her bush and her poodle dyed to match and that’s not really my scene. She’s got an arrangement with young Rodney. Remember Flash Rodney? Always did like dogs, Rodney.’
Suzy and Terry were making for the front door but Jane just sat there looking at herself in the mirror. Her make-up was perfect and her hair was all sprayed into a shining brown cone.
She could hear Suzy seeing Terry out: ‘No I insist. There were two of us, for Christ’s sake! And you’ve got Janey’s hairpiece to see to. I’ve got nothing smaller, anyway. No really, darling. Take it while I’ve got it. I’ll probably be asking for credit next week.’
‘Just you try it.’
Noisy, dry kisses on cheeks.
‘Bye, babe. Take care of yourself. Ta-ta, Jenny!’
She shouted goodbye but she couldn’t tear herself away from the mirror. Suzy stepped briskly back into the room.
‘Now then, sweetie. You look the business. Let’s see if Glenda’s got an evening coat you can wear. Glenda used to have a very nice silver Furleen number. Here it is. Super. Now then. They’ll be here in half an hour. You’re not going to show me up, are you? Can you do French?’
Jane looked up suspiciously. She could only think of those dodgy little cards in