‘It’s a very nice dance. Ow, watch my ribs!’
‘Then don’t watch my friend’s rack.’
‘How can I not? It’s just so... Aye, come on,’ he adds, taking my hand as a large drop of rain hits me in the centre of the forehead. ‘Let’s go face the firing squad.’
‘Ha!’ Nat calls out. ‘Wait ‘till I tell her. I knew there was something else keeping you over at that hoose!’
‘Leave Ivy alone,’ I counter. ‘At least until she’s home.’
‘We won’t have long to wait, hen,’ adds June, patting my arm kindly as she passes. ‘She’s flying home at the end of the week.’ Tipping her head, she gives Rory a kindly look.
‘Already?’ I ask, spinning on my heel, my questioning gaze seeking Nat.
‘Aye, apparently, she’s come to some arrangement with her old boss. She says the problem’s all taken care of and she’s coming home.’
‘And I’mthatglad,’ says June.
‘I can’t say I am,’ adds another voice.
‘Fin, this is Ted, the new stylist.’ I note Nat’s lack of enthusiasm, which is strange given that Ted looks just her type. And by that, I mean he has some kind of small furry creature attached to his face.
‘And I’m Rory,’ says the man himself. ‘Excuse Fin’s lack of manners, but she had a hard night.’
I turn on him, agog, just as the door chimes again.
‘Hello again!’ Just what I need; damned Malady.I can’t catch a break. ‘Just in time,’ she says, shaking the drops from her umbrella, her inane chatter continuing as she turns. ‘As I left the house, I thought,I’d better go back and get my brolly.Turns out I was right—just look at it coming down now! Oh, hello! Natasha said a new stylist would be here this week, but I didn’t expect you to be so—so...’
‘She seems to have developed a bit of a twitch,’ whispers Nat.
‘Mmmmmasculine,’she almost sings, Shirley Bassey style, as she sidles up to Rory, eyeing him like he’s the cake boss of all cream cakes.
‘I’d get in his chair,’ mumbles Ted and Rory begins to laugh. ‘He can shag me anytime. What?’ he adds. ‘It’s a haircut.’
And now I realise why Nat isn’t so impressed, though he’s so inappropriate, I expect they’ll end up the best of friends.
‘Well, Mal—Melody, my wax pot is a-heatin’,’ Nat says. ‘What say we go take care of that bad boy?’
‘Pardon?’
‘Your bush isnae gonna tidy itself.’
Malady flushes, beginning to stammer some protestation of only needing her nails painted while still following Nat to the treatment room.
‘Now, Ted,’ says June. ‘Your eleven o’clock will be in any time soon. But can I ask you to try not to cover the place in hair. I know we’re a salon, but it takes naught but a couple o’ seconds to clean up with the broom.’ She shoots him a tight smile before grabbing my arm. ‘Give them an inch,’ she whispers delightedly. ‘Now he’s a braw looking one.’ She squeezes, her papery hands deceptively strong.
‘Everything’s good?’ My question’s a formality; I know with June at the helm everything will run ship shape. Or else.
‘Oh, yes, dear. Busy as ever and so pleased to hear herself will be back for the weekend.’
‘She’s really coming back? Ivy’s coming home?’
‘Contract’s all sorted, so she said.’
‘Horseshit,’ I whisper. ‘I want to know what’s going on.’
‘My thoughts exactly,’ June replies. ‘But there’ll be time enough to press her when she gets here. Why don’t you go put the kettle on? I’ve brought scones.’
I don’t even have the time to come up with a polite excuse before Rory’s voice carries from the waiting area, where I notice he’s made himself fully at home.
