explained his weirdness. Zach was going on a date with Ruby and felt awkward about it. The knowledge that this was happening, that I might indeed find him in my kitchen, made me wince. What was I supposed to say in the shop the next day: ‘Morning, Zach, have fun trying to shag my sister tonight!’
‘Why the face? What’s he like?’
‘He’s all right.’ I paused. ‘No, he’s cool. More intelligent than you might think when you see him because he’s always quite scruffy and covered in tattoos. But it turns out the tattoos are actually from Greek myths and not just a skull and crossbones. And he’s basically single-handedly saving the bookshop, and he’s one of those people who’s nice to everyone. Well, everyone apart from Rory. He doesn’t like him much. And he’s amazing with kids. We did this Hallowe’en party last week and they all loved him.’ I paused again. ‘So… yeah, he’s cool.’
Mia raised her eyebrows at me. ‘Sounds like you should be going out with him.’
I retched and stuck my tongue out like a schoolgirl teased for having a crush on a boy in her maths class. ‘Gross. He’s not my type.’
‘Why? Because he doesn’t tick all the boxes on your list?’ she joked.
‘Exactly.’
‘Well, you’ve got Rory, anyway.’
‘Yes,’ I said firmly, ‘I’ve got Rory.’
And then, because talking about Ruby and Zach dating had made me feel strange, I asked Mia whether we needed strapless bras for our bridesmaids’ dresses and she wanged on about her wedding for the rest of the evening.
‘You picked one then?’ Eugene asked the following morning when I arrived with the shoebox and my dress in a plastic cover.
‘Yes, but shhhh,’ I replied, putting a finger to my lips and hiding my outfit behind the till.
‘Why?’
I pointed at the floorboards. ‘Zach in?’
Eugene nodded.
‘You know what he’s like. He’ll only start shouting about politics if I mention anything.’
Ironically, having missed Zach’s chattiness all week, today I wanted to avoid him and banish all thoughts of his date with Ruby.
I escaped over lunch for a blow-dry and eyebrow shape at the Chelsea salon where Jaz worked. It was in a posh white townhouse a few minutes from the shop and owned by an exuberant Italian called Carlo. A haircut there normally cost as much as a small family car, but she’d promised to fit me in between appointments.
‘And could I also have a quick pedicure?’ I asked Carlo when I arrived. He was sitting behind the reception desk, his swirling floral shirt undone to his belly button.
He sighed as if I’d demanded world peace. ‘Dalling, I do your eyebrows first, and then we’ll come back upstairs for your hair and, if she has time, Skyla can do your toes.’
I waved at Jaz, who was standing behind a chair drying an old lady’s hair, then followed Carlo down a flight of stairs into a windowless room which smelt of drains.
‘Lie there,’ he instructed bossily, pointing at the massage bed. ‘And let me have a look.’
I held my breath as he leant over my face, before making a noise of utter disgust. ‘These things!’ he shrieked. ‘They are monsters, Florence. I don’t know why Jasmine has not sent you to me before.’
‘Really? I thought just maybe a bit of a tid— ouuuuuuuuch!’ I yelped, as the wax burned my skin before it was ripped off. Then the other brow. Then a strip of wax between my brows before Carlo hung over my face with a pair of tweezers. He’d recently eaten something that contained onions. Or maybe just an onion, crunched raw like an apple. The smell was rancid.
‘It is much better now,’ he said a few minutes later, standing back to admire his own handiwork. ‘Gives your face more, how you say, definition? Here, take thees mirror, look.’
Yikes. They were different. The furry caterpillars had been replaced by neat lines. I waggled them in the mirror feeling like Betty Boop.
‘Now, I pop some gel over them and we get your hair washed.’
He led me back upstairs and gestured at a seat in front of a basin and handed me a laminated blow-dry menu. ‘Pick what you like and I go get Jasmine.’
I frowned at the pouty models in the pictures. The hairstyles had names like ‘Fairytale Ending’ and ‘Gloss Like A Boss’. I sniggered at the thought of having hair like Norris.
Jaz appeared at the basin a few minutes later. ‘Sorry, babe, it’s mad in here today. How you doing? Brows look good.’
‘Do you think?’