‘Eat them in the back please!’ Jennifer gives Becky a light slap on the shoulder. ‘I don’t want crumbs all over the salon floor.’
‘Thanks, Jen.’ I help myself to a coffee but can’t face a Danish just yet. Maybe later. Then again, maybe not. I watch as the staff roll in and swoop on the tray like excited starving seagulls.
The morning goes by in a blur of Christmassy cheer. I feel infinitely better now that my boss has forgiven me. I welcome in my third appointment of the day – Georgina O’Brien, a school mum who’s been a client of mine for years. As she sits in the chair and I examine the ends of her wavy light-brown hair, she seems worried.
‘Everything okay, Georgie? These ends could do with a couple of inches coming off.’
‘I know. I’m long overdue a cut.’
‘No problem, we’ll soon have you looking glamorous for the party tomorrow.’
She seems to shrink a little in her seat.
‘You all right? You and Niall are still coming, aren’t you?’
‘Uh, is it still on then?’
‘What do you mean?’ I let go of her hair and scratch the back of my head, that familiar sense of dread returning.
‘Oh.’ Her face pales.
‘Has something happened?’ I press.
‘I thought you’d know about it.’
‘Know about what? Please, whatever it is, just tell me, Georgie.’
‘Okay, well I might be wrong, but Niall’s brother is a waiter at the Regis and he said that the restaurant’s closed because they’ve had a visit from the environmental health department.’
I grip the top of Georgie’s chair and realise that if this is true, there’s no way the party will be able to go ahead.
Georgie’s face falls. ‘You didn’t know, did you?’
I shake my head. ‘How certain are you?’
‘Ninety-nine per cent. Sorry.’
My shoulders droop. ‘It’s not your fault. I’m just glad you told me.’
I realise Georgie has taken hold of my hand. ‘Try not to worry.’ She smiles at me in the mirror. ‘I’m sure they’ll sort out an alternative for you if their kitchen’s out of action.’
‘It’s lovely of you to be so positive, but it’s peak party season and the do is tomorrow. No. If Environmental Health are involved, then it’s game over.’
‘I’ll keep everything crossed for you.’
We spend the next couple of minutes discussing Georgie’s cut, and I do my best to concentrate and sound enthusiastic, but I’m desperate to call the hotel to find out what’s going on. I can’t very well abandon Georgie to make a private phone call. Not after what happened yesterday, with me running out on a client. Jennifer does seem to be happier today, but I don’t want to push my luck. My emotions are see-sawing between resignation and panic. Maybe I should just forget the whole thing. I’ve been nothing but a giant ball of stress this week. My wedding day was a disappointment, and it looks like our ten-year anniversary is shaping up to be more of the same.
Georgie gets to her feet as Lily comes over to take her to the basins. While Lily washes Georgie’s hair, I dash into the staffroom, grab my phone and call the hotel. It rings for a while and then, frustratingly, goes to voicemail. I leave a message asking them to call me back urgently. I also call Vicky, the general manager, on her mobile, but she doesn’t pick up either. This isn’t a good sign. I’ve never been unable to get through to her before. I leave another message and also tap out a quick text, feeling my heart grow heavier as I press send. Next I call Toby, but he doesn’t reply either. Not that I expected him to. He’s probably on site, in the middle of a job. I decide not to worry him by leaving a message. I’ll wait until I hear something definite. I try all the numbers again, but no one is picking up.
I don’t normally have my phone while I’m with my clients, but I know Georgie won’t mind if I keep it with me just this once. I can’t afford to miss a call from the hotel. She agrees to keep the news to herself for now and I promise to call her as soon as I hear anything one way or the other.
Forty-five minutes later, I wave goodbye to Georgie and her newly shining locks, and she says she’ll let me know if she hears anything more. I now have an hour and twenty minute lunch break, during which I’d originally planned to pick up some groceries for Vivian and the kids to have over the weekend. But I’ll have to leave that for now. It’s about a ten-minute jog home to get the car and then a fifteen-minute drive to the hotel. If I leave immediately, I can make it there and back with time to spare.
I check my phone, but no one from the hotel has come back to me, so I slip off my ballet flats, tug on my boots, grab my coat and bag from the staffroom and head to the front door, catching Becky’s eye on my way out. She’s laughing with her client but must have noticed my anxious expression because she stops and raises an eyebrow in my direction. I mouth back that I’ll tell her later.
‘Zoe!’ I’m tempted to pretend I don’t hear Jennifer calling my name, but I can’t bring myself to do it, so I turn around, trying to appear calm. ‘One of Mark’s clients has popped in for a fringe trim. He’s out on his break so would you mind doing it before you leave for lunch?’
I mentally grit my teeth and turn to Mark’s customer with a wide smile. She has a sharp blonde bob, and her fringe is almost over her eyes. ‘Of course. Come and sit down.’ I spend the next ten minutes trying my best to remain calm and friendly, and not hack into this woman’s fringe.
