My nerves rattle through three blow-dries, a colour, a cut and an upstyle. Tom still hasn’t called. With a coffee break looming, I decide I’ll call him, but first I have to convince this lady that blonde highlights are not the way to go when your face is as pale as a snowman’s.
‘But my daughter said they’d suit me.’ Her daughter mustn’t like her.
‘With your lovely complexion I think a warmer shade of your own colour would suit much better but I’ll do whatever you want.’ I’ll do whatever anyone wants today, my nerves are at breaking point waiting to talk to Tom.
‘Do you think so?’ she says, turning her head from left to right looking in front of the mirror. ‘Show me.’
I go to get the colour charts, discreetly checking my phone. No texts, nothing. My mind wonders, what’s going on at the station? Why did the cops need to talk to Kenny all of a sudden – and why is it taking so long? Rummaging through a shelf load of charts, I pick one, smiling at Sienna who is trying to hide her laughter at something her client is telling her.
I’m back standing beside the woman pointing at colours when the news airs over the speakers. The police are questioning a woman in connection with the death of Claire McCarthy. The woman the police had been searching for handed herself in at the station.
Thankfully my client is more interested in the colour chart than the breaking news. I’m barely able to communicate, pointing out possible colours while trying to curtail my emotions.
The decision is proving impossible for the woman to make. ‘Highlights or colour? Highlights or colour?’ Hurry, I need to ring my husband. Eventually she decides to take my advice and go with the colour.
‘You’re going to love it,’ I say, walking to the press to prep the mixture. I check
my phone again.
‘That client’s fucking mad?’ Sienna rushes in behind me. She’s holding her knees together, bent over trying not to piss herself laughing.
‘What did she say to you, you’ve been laughing ever since she sat down?’
‘She’s telling me about a tinder date she went on… there was some mistake… the young fella was only half her age. Jesus, the things she said to him, I’ll tell you later… she’s a scream.’
Dabbing her eyes dry, Sienna goes back out on to the floor. Her long green dress floats like an angel. How she manages to look a million dollars every time she comes to work is beyond me. Always the same, never wearing her worries in baggy shirts, stretchy leggings or half applied make-up. The phone beeps. Tom.
When the lotion is fully applied, my client sits for twenty minutes worrying if she’s made the right decision, before rinsing, while I go to the staffroom. Thankfully it’s empty, so I take out my phone and ring Tom but he doesn’t answer.
Back outside I check my client list for the remainder of the day. My phone beeps. It’s Tom again.
I lean against the wall and take a deep breath. For a moment I consider not answering, pretending I never received it. Pretending there’s no more bad news in store for me but I know I’m only delaying whatever it is he has to say. Deep breaths. I head for the staffroom which is empty and dial Tom’s number. Opening the door slightly, I check to make sure no one is on their way in here. The coast is clear, everyone is busy.
‘I can’t tell you over the phone, Sal, can you not come home?’
‘No, Tom, I can’t, you know Friday is mad busy, I’m not leaving. Just tell me, is it bad?’
‘I don’t know about bad but it’s definitely mad. The woman in custody is denying murdering Claire McCarthy, which is to be expected…’
He’s talking in a low voice, so I presume Kenny is standing someone close by. ‘What I wasn’t expecting, and what the cops weren’t expecting, was that she admitted to
lurking around our house.’
‘Did she say why?’
‘Yes, and this is the weird bit. She says she was looking for Kenny.’
I’m confused now, what is Tom talking about?
‘What does she mean? Why would she be looking for Kenny?’
The door of the staffroom opens. Megan sticks her head in. ‘Your beeper’s going off, Sal.’
I nod at her and say I’m on my way but my legs don’t want to move, they’re stuck to the spot.
‘I have to go, Tom… I’ll ring you back when I get a chance.’
What the hell is going on? Back out on the floor I try to concentrate but my mind is spinning. Why was the woman looking for Kenny?
It takes me forever to finish the blow-dry, my mind racing, my concentration lost to the turmoil in my head. Megan walks over to me when I hand my client her coat and thank her for the tip.
‘If you want you can take your ten minutes now, Sal,’ she says, even though my next client is already at the basin. Megan must have noticed my body screaming with anxiety. I hope she wasn’t listening at the door when I was talking to Tom.
Leaving the salon, I walk down the busy street, phone to my ear, waiting for Tom to answer, ignoring the crowds pushing past.
‘Sal, are you okay?’
‘Yes, yes. What is going on?’
‘I don’t know but something has happened. The mad woman is apparently Claire McCarthy’s sister. Angela Burke is coming to the house this evening to talk to us. Can you be here?’
‘What time is she calling?’ With my head heavy, my lack of attention causes me to bump into an oncoming shopper. ‘Watch where you’re going, love.’ I want to shout back I wish it was that easy. I wish I had some control over where I was going but I don’t. I’m being dragged along. Instead, I raise my hand to apologize.
‘She said around six, will you be home?’
‘Yes, I’ll tell Megan I have to leave early. Jesus, Tom, this is mad.’
‘I know… I know, I’ll see you later, love.’
Love. The word echoes in my ear. Love. Why did you lie to me, Tom? Love. Why did you not share your secret, Tom? Love. Why do I feel like a fool, Tom? Love.
Turning to walk back to the salon, I watch the people passing by, everyone a wave, the ups and downs of life keeping them moving, until they reach the shore. I think of Tom, our relationship, how far are we from the shore?