‘I’ll be back in a sec. I’ll just go sort out my next client then I’ll be back to give an even more triumphant blow dry.’
Off he went, while the newest addition to her glamour team grabbed a cotton wool pad and a cleanser.
‘What kind of look do you normally go for?’ Kylie asked, beaming at the opportunity to flex her talents.
‘Erm, I’m not sure. I don’t usually wear make-up, so something really natural would be great,’ Caro suggested.
The teenager’s nod and look of determination told her she was up for the challenge. Rod returned and picked up a hairdryer and a huge brush.
Slotting in on the opposite side of Daisy, Kylie got to work, and suddenly a whole host of images popped up in Caro’s mind – photographs that Lila had posted of very similar situations. In this salon, hair being done, make-up, nails too, surrounded by stylists and technicians. So this was what it felt like to be Lila. This was part of her life. Part of what made her who she was. Caro took a moment to think about how it felt and came up with… nice. That was it. Not amazing, or wonderful or special. Not boring or annoying. She appreciated their work but this wasn’t her. If anything, all the attention was a bit embarrassing. Give her Todd and his hairdressing scissors in her kitchen any day of the week.
Another ding as the door opened again. Anxiety. Apprehension. Then… Disappointment – and a touch of admiration – as an elderly lady with a bright purple bouffant bustled in.
If the bell went again over the next half hour or so, Caro didn’t hear it over the noise of Rod’s hairdryer.
Daisy finished first and Caro thanked her for her flawless pink nails. Kylie finished at exactly the same time as Rod switched off the hairdryer and reached for a tube that looked like a large mascara.
‘What do you think?’ Kylie asked. ‘And please don’t worry about saying if you don’t like it. Suze won’t really fire us.’
Caro looked in the mirror and for the first time saw herself… and someone else. Kylie had done exactly as she’d been asked. The make-up was barely noticeable. The perfect shade of foundation. Subtle blusher. A nude lip. Beautifully blended contouring. Two coats of black mascara that widened her eyes in a natural way. She looked like herself, but she also, more than ever before, looked like her mum. The shock and sadness must have fleetingly registered on her face.
‘Oh God, you hate it. I’m so sorry. Is it too much? Not enough? Wet wipes coming right up!’
‘No, no!’ Caro blurted. ‘I love it! I really do. Sorry, I just don’t wear a lot of make-up so it took me a moment. But I honestly love it. Thank you so much. I’ll tell Suze you’re wonderful.’
‘Yes!’ Kylie fist-pumped the air, then did a dance that involved intensive shaking of her arse. The two mothers and daughters in the adjacent seats gave her a round of applause and she bowed her way back to reception to a high five from an amused Suze.
Rod unscrewed the tube, releasing a gold-tinged brush about an inch long. He lifted a few thin sections around her face and slid the brush along them, instantly lightening thecolour several shades. Then he picked up some contraption from the counter, and started to roll tendrils of her hair around it, working his way around her head until it was a mass of loose, wavy tendrils.
The door went again. Her heart thudded. She looked. No Lila.
Rod wafted hairspray over her new style to hold the waves and then stood back.
‘I can tell by your smile that you love it,’ he said, clearly one for appreciating his own brilliance. He was right, though. If she’d known this was possible she’d have done it years ago. She looked younger, brighter, more polished. On any other day, she’d be thrilled by the result, even if she’d downplay it to anyone who complimented her, because she hadn’t actually done it herself.
‘I do,’ Caro agreed, thinking that, much as this was the most unexpected turn of events, she was glad she’d come in.
It was only when she stood and Rod took her robe off and insisted she check out the side view that she saw yet another image in her mind. Not her. Not her mother. But a Facebook photo of Lila, a few weeks ago, after a ten-mile jog on a Sunday morning, no make-up – or at least, not as much as she wore in every other photo – her hair loose and wavy instead of her normal sleek shine.
Perhaps it was the fumes from the hairspray, or just the emotion of the day, but Caro was just a little bit sure she saw a resemblance.
Very faint. Nothing obvious. But maybe it was there. She shook the thought off and headed to the front of the salon, where Suze greeted her at the desk. ‘Well, you look great,’ she said, chuckling. ‘I’m so glad. I hate firing anyone on a Friday.’
She put the bill on the top of the reception counter.
A hundred quid. Holy crap. Who spent a hundred quid on a Friday afternoon just to look good? Caro got her credit card out. Apparently she did, and she didn’t regret a single minute of it, or of the twenty quid she added on as a tip. If today wasn’t one of the most terrifying of her life she’d actually have been enjoying it. A nice lunch. An out-of-the-ordinary trip to a salon. Meeting some people that made her laugh. At least if she headed back on the train tonight completely empty-handed, she had some positive experiences to show for it, and she could retreat, undamaged, while she came up with another plan.
But she wasn’t finished trying yet.
She tried to sound as nonchalant as possible as she spoke to Suze. ‘While I’m here, can I ask… a friend of mine comes in here all the time and I was wondering if she was due in today.’ She could have led with this at the start, but then if Lila had come in, Suze would have pointed her in Caro’s direction, giving no way out for Caro. Now, she was leaving anyway so there was nothing to lose.
‘Really? Who’s that and I’ll check the book.’
‘Lila. Lila Anderson.’
There was something in Suze’s reaction that piqued Caro’s interest. A flicker of something. She saw it in her kids when one of their classmates irritated them, but they didn’t want to show it. If she had to guess, she’d say Lila wasn’t Suze’s favourite person. Suze covered it well though. With a few clicks of a mouse, she checked the screen in front of her.
‘Ah, no, Lila isn’t due in today.’
