‘If I apply for it too. If you don’t mind, that is. I mean, I’ve probably got no chance, but I’d love to give it a go. After all, I did help organise that fundraiser, so I guess I’d be just as qualified.’ She leans back against the headboard and closes her eyes for a few seconds. ‘Oh, this is so exciting – our very first job interviews! We can prep for it together!’
I’m shocked by Cassie’s suggestion that she should apply too. The charity event was my idea and hard work; Cassie just helped on the night. But I don’t want to come across as mean-spirited. What kind of a friend would I be if I stood in her way?
‘Yeah, of course you should apply too.’ I try to sound more enthusiastic than I feel. ‘But I thought you wanted to go to London and become a famous superstar?’
‘Yeah, well, that’s the plan, but it would be a lot easier to do that if I got some PR experience. It would give me loads more credibility. I could get the job here and then find a PR job in London. Meet some influential people who could help with my career. It’s actually quite perfect. Anyway, I thought you wanted to be a hairdresser. That’s your dream, isn’t it? And you’d be so good at it. You’re such a creative person, Zo.’ She squeezes my arm.
I suddenly realise that my short-lived dream of a new and exciting career in PR might be over before it’s begun. I doubt whether I’m good enough to get this job when people like Cassie will also be applying. Of course, I’ll still go for it and give it my best shot, but – realistically – what chance do I really have of landing it? While Cassie’s face is radiant with excitement, my earlier optimism is crumbling by the second, my stomach knotting up with doubt. I hadn’t realised how much I wanted the job until now.
Fourteen
NOW
‘Oh my goodness, Zoe, it’s so lovely to see you! It’s been far too long!’ Cassie Barrington sweeps into the salon, her curly blonde tresses cascading over the shoulders of her pale-pink faux-fur coat. Everyone’s head swivels in our – or should I sayher– direction. She’s always had that effect on people. Jennifer in particular is thrilled about Cassie’s hair appointment at Waves, and I don’t blame her. The salon is crazily busy in the run up to Christmas, but thanks to Cassie’s visit, Jennifer will now be able to create some great publicity in the slower months of January and February.
‘Hi, Cassie, how are you?’ I force out a smile, sure she must sense my insincerity.
‘Oh, you know, same old. But, more importantly, how areyou? I can’t believe I’m here, back in our lovely little town!’ She dimples, leaning in to kiss my cheek, and I’m obliged to reciprocate, catching a waft of something expensive and seductive. Noticing at the same time that her skin is smoother than my nine-year-old daughter’s. The last time I had a proper conversation with Cassie was back when we were at college together. Of course, she also came to my wedding, but we barely spoke that day, or if we did, I don’t remember. She doesn’t look as if she’s aged at all since then. In fact, she looks younger, if that’s possible. Fresher. Sleeker.
Our receptionist Mia takes Cassie’s coat and helps her into a gown. It’s obvious Mia’s starstruck by the way she’s gawking. Cassie thanks her graciously with a flash of perfectly white teeth, that somehow manage to not betoowhite.
‘Come and sit down.’ I lead her over to a chair by the window, as per Jennifer’s instructions earlier –The more people who see her in here the better, my boss had said. ‘Would you like a drink? Tea, coffee or a glass of Prosecco?’
‘Do you have any Perrier?’
‘No, but we’ve got Hildon. Still or sparkling?’
‘Sparkling please.’
I send Lily, one of our juniors, to fetch her drink while I swallow my nerves and face Cassie in the mirror. I’m braced for a lightly mocking smile or some faintly passive-aggressive comment, but her demeanour is open, her smile genuine.
Cassie became semi-famous after she starred in a reality TV show back when she’d just turned twenty. Now she’s an occasional TV presenter who also writes a regular column in a magazine, as well as appearing on various panel shows.
She leans back in her chair. ‘I can’t believe we lost touch for so many years, Zo. But seeing you here again feels like it was just last week that we used to hang out at each other’s houses. I really miss that.’ Her voice seems to catch with emotion, but I can’t imagine how she could be that choked up to see me. Not after how she more or less ditched me as a friend after she got what she wanted.
The emotions are all so fresh in my mind – how she treated me back then: so casually, as though my own life was secondary to hers. HowIwas always the one who had to stand aside to make way forherlife.
Of course, as I half expected, Cassie was offered that wonderful PR job at the college. She didn’t exactly steal it from me, but it was pretty damn close. Looking back, I guess if I’d really wanted a career in PR, I could have pursued it more aggressively. I could have looked for another position and I could have turned down the job at Waves. But I was young, with no idea about how to go about finding another opportunity like that. And Dad wasn’t focused on helping me with my education or career – he just let me get on with whatever it was I was doing at the time.
When I discovered that Cassie had got the job, my initial reaction was extreme disappointment and disbelief, followed by a strange sort of relief that I could carry on with my existing plan to work for Jennifer. And, as it turns out, I love my hairdressing career. It’s fulfilling and creative and I’m bloody good at it.
But that’s not the point. The point is that my then best friend shafted me. She manoeuvred her way into a fantastic opportunity at my expense. Cassie got the job, but only stayed for a year until she had enough experience to land a PR job in London, leaving the college without a backward glance. Then she used her PR contacts to get a place on a reality TV series.
A couple of years afterwards, I ran into Sally Bennett from the college and she confided that she wished she’d givenmethe job instead. But her boss had been won over by Cassie’s apparent confidence. Sally told me that after an initial month of enthusiasm (which coincidentally was the same length as the trial period) Cassie had been terrible at her job – lazy, constantly late, and always taking sick days. After she quit, there had been no more appetite or money to develop a PR department, because Cassie had driven the job into the ground.
With Cassie here sitting in front of me, I try to put all that out of my head, but it’s not easy. ‘So how did you end up coming back to Shaftesbury for a haircut? I thought you’d have a posh London hairdresser.’
‘Well, I did, but annoyingly he’s gone off travelling for a year with his girlfriend – how dare he, right?’ She gives a short laugh to let me know she’s joking. ‘I’m back here to visit the parents so I thought I’d make an appointment for old time’s sake – and catch up with you, of course.’ Lily returns with Cassie’s sparkling water and sets the bottle and glass on the little shelf in front of the mirror. Cassie thanks her and then refocuses her attention on her flawless reflection.
‘So what are we doing with these locks today?’ I take a section of her hair in my hands and examine the ends. ‘It’s in amazing condition and the colour looks great. So… a trim?’
‘Well…’ She tilts her head and gives me a mysterious smile. ‘I was thinking of something a little more drastic.’
‘Oh?’
‘Like a pixie cut.’
‘Very funny.’ I look at her luscious long blonde waves and think there’s no way on earth she can be serious.
