Page 14 of Lessons in Love at the Seaside Salon

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

It’s just before nine o’clock on Monday morning, so Trudy sips the last of her coffee while she thinks about not much at all.

It’s a tactic she’s developed since Laurie died: not thinking.

Not thinking means not remembering. Not remembering means that she can keep her grief at bay, even if it’s just for a little while, because the not-thinking tends to last as long as one cup of coffee or one cigarette, whichever she can get her hands on.

To be clear: she thinks about something but it’s nothing that can start her worrying or grieving, which are the two states she needs to avoid otherwise, as her GP said the other day, she’ll succumb to stress.

Succumb to stress . What a phrase. It makes her sound like a goldfish in a bowl that gets moved around all the time – you know how fish can die if they’re stressed?

That’s her. A goldfish in a bowl that’s being moved, except she is also the bowl and the mover, which really does her head in sometimes.

It’s when she gets to that point, of everything being stirred up – of feeling she may succumb to stress – that she knows it’s time to make a coffee or light a ciggie.

They’re not so much vices as crutches, and what are crutches for if not to support a person through hard times?

Instead of a broken leg she has a broken heart, and that’s what she needs the crutches for.

There are other crutches: TV shows. Crosswords.

Arnott’s Lemon Crisp biscuits. They’re moderate, as far as she’s concerned.

She’s not putting away half a bottle of whiskey a night – her parents had a neighbour like that.

‘Slow suicide’ her father called it, and Trudy agrees with that.

She doesn’t want to kill herself slowly; she just needs some help in the here and now.

Her clients are a crutch of sorts, with their chatter and laughter and general lack of stress, and that’s who she’s awaiting. The first one is due in ten minutes and while she waits she thinks about her phone call with Dylan last night.

He rang her and after the hellos she was about to ask him how he was when he said, ‘So about a visit.’

She was disoriented by the directness and it took her a second to realise he was referring to their previous phone call.

‘Oh – yes?’

‘How about Sunday week?’

She stood there, silent, not because she needed to think about whether she would be free that day – the answer was yes, she would be, because her social activity is paltry – but because she couldn’t quite believe he was suggesting it.

This is the son who needed five reminders to put away his clean laundry.

And she always made him put it away – she wasn’t going to do that for him.

No doubt Annemarie is happy she trained him in chores, although they’ve never discussed it.

She and Annemarie aren’t close, even though Trudy had been determined not to be the clichéd mother-in-law who has a rocky relationship with her son’s wife.

So it isn’t through lack of effort that she and Annemarie have never had a strong connection – it’s through Annemarie’s lack of interest in same.

‘That’d be lovely, darling,’ she said. ‘I’ll get the train.’

‘I can pick you up at the station.’

‘Good. Thanks, that’d be great.’

They worked out a time then the call ended and Trudy felt lighter – not that she realised she’d been carrying any sort of weight around about it. It’s funny what goes on in a person’s own body and mind without them being aware.

The door opens and Trudy smiles as Ingrid and her daughter, Anna, enter, followed by a flustered-looking Josie.

‘Sorry, sorry, sorry,’ Josie says breathily as she beetles for the back room.

‘You’re not late, pet!’ Trudy calls after her.

The girl seems to live in fear of getting in trouble for something, no matter how often Trudy assures her that she’s doing a good job.

She does things without needing to be asked; she has an eye for detail, not missing a hair on the salon floor or a strand of it out of place on a client’s head; plus she’s up on the latest hair trends, always looking in the magazines.

She also asks for Trudy’s advice regularly, which no previous apprentice ever had.

‘No, we’re early,’ Ingrid says, smiling serenely. That’s how she usually smiles, and it’s in stark contrast to the demeanour of her daughter who is, Trudy thinks, tightly wound – ‘strung like a Stradivarius’, Laurie would have said.

Anna usually comes in with something to read, or she picks up a magazine from the pile, and sits in the spare chair in the corner, reading, doing the crossword, rarely smiling.

Trudy would love to get her mitts on Anna’s hair because she thinks there’s potential, but she’s never chased a client and she’s not about to start.

Perhaps, though, being in the salon will rub off on Anna one day.

‘How are you, Anna?’ Trudy says as the younger woman crosses the floor in front of her, not seeming to notice anyone else.

‘Tired,’ Anna says, plopping down in the chair and opening New Idea , which has another cover of The Princess of Wales and that hairstyle. The last blonde who caused that much fuss was Marilyn Monroe. Or Agnetha from ABBA.

‘Oh?’ Trudy is intrigued, because that’s more intel than Anna usually shares. Typically she says ‘Fine’.

‘Two kids, work, no help.’ Anna smiles tightly then holds up the magazine. ‘Just need a little respite.’

‘Sure,’ Trudy says, understanding. But the no help thing is interesting: the last time Trudy heard, Anna had a husband.

Which doesn’t mean she had help, obviously – they’re not all like Laurie was – but it’s a curious thing to say.

Still, Trudy won’t push. Some customers are like dogs, panting all over you with their news, and others are like cats, taking their time to decide if you’re worth inhabiting the same planet as them. Anna is definitely a cat.

‘How’s work, pet?’ Trudy says. She knows Anna is a seamstress, and that some of her clients have given her work, but not much else.

‘Fine. I’m mostly mending. Some alterations.’

‘She makes things too,’ Ingrid says, smiling at Trudy in the mirror. ‘Really lovely dresses.’

Anna looks surprised.

‘Dresses?’ Trudy prompts. ‘I can’t even sew on a button properly. I can’t imagine making a dress.’

Anna shrugs. ‘It’s easy once you know how.’

‘She creates her own designs,’ Ingrid says proudly and again Anna looks as if she’s never heard those words before.

‘They’re not that good,’ Anna mumbles.

‘Darling, they are!’

‘If you say so.’

‘I know so.’ Ingrid beams. ‘Mothers know, don’t they, Trudy?’

‘We do,’ Trudy agrees.

‘Thanks, Mama,’ Anna says distractedly, then she leafs through the magazine.

Ingrid frowns then her face relaxes.

‘The usual?’ Trudy asks and Ingrid nods.

By the time she’s finished Ingrid, Evie has arrived, and at that point the salon starts to resemble a bus exchange. Clients in, clients out, hairdressers moving around like conductors taking tickets. The bustle is good. The bustle keeps Trudy going. Without it she’d have too much time to think.

An hour later Sam is there and tending to Bobbie, a client who had left to follow Jane but called to book in with ‘the new gentleman’. Clearly word’s got around about young Sam, and if he’s bringing clients to the salon, she’s all for it.

‘Hello, pet,’ she greets Bobbie, trying to keep a straight face because the woman’s hair, previously dyed red, is now brown with huge stripes of blonde. It’s not a look Trudy recognises, nor one that is flattering – are they meant to be streaks? Jane was always good at streaks.

Trudy didn’t check to see what Bobbie’s booked in for but she hopes it’s a colour – although Sam will need a few hours to fix this mess.

Josie ushers Bobbie to Sam, who acts as if the woman is the best thing he’s seen all day. Trudy has no idea where he finds the enthusiasm, but she loves him for it.

‘Darl!’ he says. ‘That’s quite the look. Are we keeping it or moving on?’

Bobbie sits with a thud. ‘Moving on,’ she says, then glances Trudy’s way. Trudy smiles as warmly as she can, although she’s enjoying this situation far more than she should. Not that she wants Jane to fail. Not much.

Going to check the book – because if Sam’s fixing that mess his next client or two will need to be reassigned – Trudy spies Evie gazing wistfully at the back of Sam’s head. Evie glances across and notices that Trudy has seen her, and she quickly looks away, her cheeks pink.

Trudy knows that look. She’s seen it on countless girls and women talking about the men they love. Their eyes change and their lips part and no matter how many times Trudy sees it, she thinks it’s sweet. Not on Evie, though. On Evie it’s trouble.

She’s well aware Evie needs a little bit of romance, shall we say, but she doesn’t believe Evie will get that with Sam.

He’s not the romancing type – not with ladies.

Trudy worked that out pretty quickly because she has been, as Laurie might say, around the traps.

But Evie, it seems, hasn’t a clue, given the way she’s looking at Sam, and Trudy’s not going to be the one to tell her, because even though they’ve known each other for a while, they’re not close.

Not in the way of discussing potential suitors.

Evie would probably tell her to mind her own business if she said anything, and vice versa.

Or ‘vicky versa’. Laurie used to say that too.

Trudy is worried for Evie, though, because if she’s already that far gone, any extrication will be painful.

This phase of wanting someone – it’s too early to call it love – is like being brainwashed, and nothing Trudy could say would persuade Evie differently.

This will just have to play out, and Trudy will have to watch, and be ready to catch Evie when she falls.

Unless she’s wrong about Sam. There’s always a chance. She was wrong about the last male hairdresser she employed, who raced off with one of her best customers. Last Trudy heard they were in Brisbane running a salon together. Good luck to them.

‘Now, darl,’ Sam is saying as he tugs on Bobbie’s ends, ‘do you have time for a conditioning treatment?’

‘Of course,’ the woman says.

‘Josie!’ Trudy calls, and her apprentice emerges from the back room, tying up her hair. ‘See if anyone would like a coffee, would you?’

Josie smiles and nods, and the door opens again, admitting the next client, and Trudy shakes off her worries for Evie and steps back into the bustle.