Page 21 of Lessons in Love at the Seaside Salon

CHAPTER TWENTY

Josie has faced unruly hair, patchy hair, badly cared-for hair, hair that had been set on fire – possibly on purpose, although she never found out for sure – as well as hair that had been bleached for too many years, and quite a few heads of child hair that had been cut by mothers who then decided they didn’t really know what they were doing and brought their unfortunate offspring to the salon for a proper cut.

However, this is the first time she’s done a layer cut on her own and even with Trudy hovering over her shoulder she’s nervous.

‘It’s all right, sweetheart,’ croons the client, who is Trudy’s regular, Babs.

Babs volunteered for this, apparently. ‘She likes you,’ Trudy told Josie. ‘And she especially likes the idea of a free haircut.’

The cut has to be free because it may turn out badly. That’s the other reason why Babs was happy to do it: she doesn’t mind if she ends up with short hair.

‘Just start,’ Babs says with a wink. ‘What’s the worst that can happen?’

That I’m chucked out of tech , Josie thinks, but instead of saying it she tries to smile at Babs at the mirror.

Babs’s eyes are bright as they look into hers – well, as they bounce back at hers from the mirror.

That’s one of the funny things about being a hairdresser: you don’t often look your clients properly in the face.

Which means you’re always seeing them reversed.

Just like they’re seeing you. Almost Josie’s whole working day is spent as a mirror image of herself, literally.

If she’d done better at school maybe she’d know a name for that.

Is it a metaphor? No. A simile? No. A … wait …

no, she can’t think of it. Or maybe it’s nothing fancy, she just thinks it should be, so if she had indeed been better at school she’d be able to write a poem about it or something.

‘My Life as a Mirror’. ‘My Life in the Mirror’ – no, she prefers the first one.

Stop. She needs to focus on Babs. Partly because this haircut is a distraction from the thing that has been distracting her all day: Brett is taking her out to dinner tonight.

She has lied to her parents about where she’ll be, saying she’s catching a movie with a friend, and of course they’ll ask about the movie so she’s going to say she saw Crocodile Dundee again.

It’s still running at the cinema in Gosford – she checked – and when they ask why she wanted to see it again, she’s going to say it’s because her friend hadn’t seen it.

Which will sound weird – because the whole of Australia has seen that film – but she does have a friend who grew up in a very religious family and she hardly knows anything about anything.

So that’s the friend she’s going to draw into the lie, and she just has to make sure that friend never visits her house since her parents will probably quiz them both about the movie.

All this fuss just to go out to dinner with a boy. But Josie knows it will be worth it, because she really likes him. Now she just has to keep her mind on the job until he comes to collect her at the end of the day. Which – she notices by glancing at the clock – is only forty-five minutes away.

‘So, um …’ She swallows. ‘You don’t want a fringe?’

‘God, no!’ Babs looks amused and points to her face. ‘With this moon? I’d look like Bert Newton. No, love, just some layers on top and the side.’

Trudy squeezes Josie’s arm. ‘It’ll be fine. Just start.’

Swallowing again, Josie picks up her scissors. Each hairdresser has their own scissors – she learnt that early on. She and her friend from tech, Sue, bought theirs together, even though neither one of them knew anything about good scissors.

‘Mind if I read?’ Babs asks.

Josie shakes her head. Should she take that as a further sign that Babs trusts her?

‘What are you reading, pet?’ Trudy says as she starts to move away, much to Josie’s alarm. Isn’t Trudy going to monitor her?

Babs holds up a paperback. ‘A bit of Michener.’

Trudy nods. ‘It’s a goodie, that one. It’ll make you want to go to Hawaii, though.’

‘Not the worst thing in the world.’

‘All right, well, I’ll leave you to it. Josie’ll sing out if she needs anything.’

Josie’s eyes widen. How will she know if she needs something? Maybe she’ll cut all wonky and won’t realise? Except if she asks for Trudy to stay it’ll really seem like she doesn’t know what she’s doing.

Given that Babs already has the book open, she obviously doesn’t mind.

So there’s only one thing for it. Josie takes a big breath and combs through Babs’s wet hair, looking for the lengths she wants to shape.

The time passes so quickly and she’s so absorbed in what she’s doing that she doesn’t have a chance to be nervous again about Brett until she’s sweeping the cape off Babs’s shoulders just as the door opens, and Brett is standing there with flowers in his hand.

‘Hi, Josie,’ he says, sounding confident, which she loves. She wants the man who takes her out to sound happy about it. Every girl, every woman, deserves that.

‘Hi, Brett.’ She flushes, aware that the salon has gone quiet.

‘This your young fella?’ Babs asks with a cheeky grin.

‘Oh, um, I …’ Josie doesn’t know how to answer that. Technically, for tonight Brett is her young fella – but after that, who knows?

‘Hi, my name’s Brett.’

His smile is so genuine and open that Josie’s heart melts a little.

‘Babs. And your girl here cuts a mean layer. Don’t you think, Trude?’

‘I do, Babs.’ Trudy nods at Josie. ‘Nice work, pet.’

Brett holds out the flowers to Josie. ‘For you.’ He grins.

Josie grins back. ‘Thanks!’ she says. ‘I, um, I …’ Whyyyyy does she get this tongue-tied around him? He’s going to think she’s an idiot!

‘You can go, pet. I’ll finish up here,’ Trudy says.

‘I’ll just get my bag,’ she says to Brett.

As she walks out of the salon, Brett turns toward her and he looks so happy Josie almost turns to see if there’s a reason why back there.

Except the reason is her, and a little part of her is beginning to understand that she can make Brett happy just by being her.

It’s quite something, to know that. Even if she will stop believing it in about thirty minutes’ time, when she’s worried about how she chews her food and whether it looks ladylike, and if she’s pretty enough for him, and if he’s going to want to see her again.

For now, though, as he holds out his hand to take her bag, and offers her the crook of his other elbow, she feels so light, so cherished, that she can put those doubts aside, especially as she’s holding his flowers in her free arm.

‘So how was your day?’ he says.

They’re walking slowly, as if he wants to take his time.

‘I was a bit stressed at the end!’ she says, laughing, and she tells him about the layer cut and how it all turned out okay.

By the time she’s finished the story they’ve arrived at a little restaurant she’s noticed before.

It doesn’t have many tables, and most of them are full.

Brett gives his name and they’re led to a spot at the back of the room.

There’s a lit candle on it and a single flower in a small vase.

The waiter offers to take Josie’s flowers and she hands them over.

‘Have you been here before?’ she asks Brett as they read their menus.

‘No, but one of the guys at work likes it.’ He glances around. ‘It’s nice, isn’t it?’

‘It is,’ she breathes.

They order, a steak for him and fish for her, and while they wait for food he asks her questions about herself.

No one ever has before – not like this. When you’re making a new friend you might ask some things, but usually you find out about the friend simply by hanging out and doing stuff – information just comes up.

But he’s really asking her as if he wants to know.

Except what do you say about a life that has involved being a good girl at home and school, then learning to do hair and being an apprentice?

‘You don’t want to hear all of this,’ she says eventually, just as their meals are placed on the table. ‘I’m so boring.’

He frowns. ‘Boring?’

‘Yeah. I don’t do that much.’

‘Yes, you do. You deal with people all day. That’s hard .’ He laughs. ‘Why do you think I work with cars?’

She hadn’t thought of it like that before. Is her work really that hard? Maybe it is. Clients can be tricky, getting upset about things she doesn’t think are that big of a deal.

‘Thanks,’ she says.

‘What for?’

She smiles. ‘For saying that. I guess it is hard sometimes. I feel like I do something important now!’

‘You do,’ he says, slicing into his steak. ‘You help people feel good about themselves.’

The look he gives her then makes her feel like she could float off the chair. It’s so warm and clear – like he really sees her. Like she’s special. It’s so unfamiliar a look to her that she can’t hold it, so she peers down at her fish instead.

They spend the rest of the meal talking about their childhood holidays and which TV shows they like, then he walks her back to her car.

‘Thank you so much,’ she says as he opens her passenger door and puts her bag on the seat. ‘I had such a good night.’

‘Not as good as mine,’ Brett says.

She wonders if he’s going to kiss her. Then she panics, because she’s never kissed anyone, which means she’d be so bad at it, and she would bet he’s kissed lots of girls because he’s so handsome.

There isn’t a kiss, though. Not on the lips. Instead he pecks her cheek then holds open her driver-side door and waits while she rolls down the window.

‘I’ll see you soon,’ he says, then he touches her cheek and walks off.

Her cheek feels warm all the way back to Gosford, but whether it’s from his hand or the fact that she’s smiling the whole time, she doesn’t know.