Page 18

Katie

“Marco, would you be able to drive me into town? I need to pick up a few things.”

He nods and grabs his keys. Looks like we are going now. I follow quickly before he changes his mind. We quickly arrive downtown.

The last time we were here, I spotted a little beauty shop.

It’s not like the wholesalers we have at home, but I’m sure I’ll be able to get what I need.

After speaking to Alga this morning, I want to make her feel better about attending her daughter's graduation. I think a hair makeover will really make her feel better about herself. I’m in my element, walking around the shop, picking out new brushes, clips, and scissors.

It’s not the quality I use at home, but they’ll do the job.

Only thinking I was going on holiday, I didn’t bring my hairdressing kit, just my electricals and a few bits I need to do my own hair.

Marco follows me around, groaning as I pick up every item for a good look. I get what I need for Alga’s hair as well as some new bits for me. My basket is pretty full when I get to the counter.

“No charge,” the lady says, looking directly at Marco.

“What? No, please—these are for me.” I get everything out of the basket and hold out my bank card.

“No charge, please.”

I look from this woman to Marco, feeling extremely uncomfortable.

“Let her pay,” Marco instructs.

Without looking at me, she scans the items and holds out the payment machine. I tap my card and pick up my bag, feeling very deflated.

In the car on the way back to the house, I can see Marco looking at me through the rearview mirror.

“You will get used to it.”

I don’t say anything in return. I don’t want to get used to it.

When we get back, I set up a salon area in our bathroom. The bathroom is huge, with plenty of room for the chair I bring in from the dressing table. There’s lots of worktop space for all my colouring products and tools; there’s even a sprayer that pulls out on the sink to wash her hair.

Filled with excitement, I go and get Alga .

“I’ve got a surprise for you; come with me.” I beckon Alga to follow me.

“A surprise for me?”

“Yes, come on. You’ll be okay without her for a couple of hours, won’t you, Sergio?”

“Of course, you girls go.” He waves us out of the kitchen.

I take Alga into the bathroom.

“If it's okay with you, Alga, I’d like to do your hair.”

Alga looks around at my makeshift salon, shocked.

“Oh no, I can’t; I have to work, Mr. Guerra….”

“Mr. Guerra will be fine. Please, it will make me happy.”

“I can’t afford it.”

“Don’t be silly—it’s my treat. Now sit.”

I walk her to the chair and put a gown around her before she can argue any more.

I position her in front of the mirror and take out her bobble.

Alga has always worn her hair tied up in a tight, high bun.

I guessed it would be long, but I didn’t realise how long.

Her hair is dark with strands of grey running through it.

It’s all different lengths and wispy. I’d guess she hasn’t had it cut professionally in many years.

“How do you feel about your hair, Alga? Are you attached to the length, or would you be prepared to go to this sort of length?” I gesture with my hands just below her shoulders. About seven inches would be coming off the longest sections if she agrees.

“Do whatever you like; I trust you.” She nods and smiles, and I can tell she does.

“Great. We will give you some layers as well, frame your face; it will really suit you. I was thinking of keeping your natural dark-and-silver hair, but I’ll do some highlights and low lights, then a toner, to give it some more definition.

“Yes, yes, whatever you think.”

“Wonderful.”

I waste no time in getting started. I’m really enjoying doing what I love. I’ve missed this. While I’m working my magic, we talk and laugh. It's lovely to see Alga like this, relaxed and being looked after rather than her doing all the work.

Once the colour is done and I’ve finished the restyle cut, I blow-dry her hair bouncy with a bit of curl.

I purposely face her away from the mirror until I am finished.

I must admit, it does look pretty amazing.

I love doing transformations like this. Alga looks at least ten years younger.

Her sparse, dull, lifeless hair is now thick, shiny, and full of style.

I spin her chair around so she faces the mirror. For a moment, she doesn’t say a word, and I worry she doesn’t like it. But then tears fill her eyes as she touches her new bouncy locks.

“Is this me?” she cries.

“You look beautiful, Alga.”

“Thank you.”

“What’s going on in here?!” Leo demands as he storms into the bathroom.

Alga jumps from her seat and rips the gown from around her neck.