Page 24 of Lessons in Love at the Seaside Salon

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Whenever one of her clients complains about how her daughter won’t get out of her hair, how she’s always calling and asking for advice, or calling to complain about her own children, Trudy wants to tell that client to count herself lucky to have a child who stays in touch.

And it’s always the daughters they complain about, never the sons.

Trudy used to think it was because they all thought their sons were amazing, and she felt sorry for the daughters as a result.

Now she knows it’s because they only ever hear from their daughters.

The sons are like hers: not given to communicating.

It was wonderful to see Dylan and Annemarie and the girls at lunch in Hornsby but she hasn’t heard from her son since. Yes, it’s only been a couple of weeks but she’s living on her own now and she’s still grieving – wouldn’t it occur to him that she may need someone to actually care ?

True, some of her clients care. Evie cares. Now she knows Trudy needs caring for.

‘Just tell me the next time you need a lift somewhere,’ Evie said when she dropped Trudy home from the station after the Sydney jaunt.

‘I don’t want to be a bother.’

Evie guffawed. ‘Do you really think I’d offer if you were a bother? Besides, Billy loves a car trip, don’t you, Billybub?’

Billy had looked up from the book he was reading in the back seat – how he did that without becoming sick, Trudy didn’t know – and smiled and nodded.

There’s been no need for the taxi service since then but it’s nice to know it’s available.

The outing to Sydney served another purpose: it made her realise she actually likes going out and doing things.

When she came home that night she felt energised, in a way she hadn’t since Laurie became sick.

It made her think, it really did, about the nature of her grieving and how maybe it has become this loop she’s got herself stuck in, familiar and comforting despite itself.

She just needed a jolt. So she’s continued to give herself one.

Or two. She’s going to the club more, and she’s taken up walking with Gina, one of her regulars.

Some of her regulars have become friends, and it’s never felt awkward that they keep being clients because they all tell her she makes them feel like a million bucks and they’d never want to go to another salon.

It’s Gina who’s in the chair this morning, flipping through the The Australian Women’s Weekly while Trudy gives her a trim.

‘I don’t know about that Joan Collins,’ Gina says as she holds up a spread featuring ‘the ladies of Dynasty ’. ‘Whaddyareckon she’d be like in real life?’

Trudy shrugs. She hasn’t given it much thought.

‘She’s an actress, pet,’ she says as she makes the smallest of snips.

Gina’s standing instruction is for only the very ends of the ends to be snipped off.

She’s been ‘trying to grow my hair long’ for decades now and although Trudy has told her that some curly hair doesn’t grow that long and even if it does it can still look short, thanks to the bounce-up, Gina persists.

‘What’s your point, Trude?’

‘That Alexis person is a character. I’m sure she’s not like that in real life.’

Tiny snip, tiny snip.

‘You’re not cutting too much, are you?’ Gina’s tone is terse. She asks this every single time.

‘Of course not. You’d hang, draw and quarter me if I did.’

‘Too right.’ Gina nods and turns the page, her face softening. ‘Paul Hogan. I like him.’

Trudy smiles and shakes her head. Of course Gina likes Hoges – he looks like her husband, right down to the big grin.

The door opens and Trudy glances up to see Josie scurrying to greet the older gent who’s just walked in. It’s Josie’s job to greet all the clients and check their appointments in the book.

‘Hi!’ she says brightly.

‘Hello, miss,’ the man says. He has good, thick white hair – a little shaggy, which is why he must be here.

Trudy presumes he has an appointment with Sam, who’s putting a client under the dryer so he’ll be free any tick of the clock.

Evie, meanwhile, is fussing over a first-time client who wanted streaks and is currently getting them.

‘Do you have an appointment?’ Josie asks.

The man looks around and catches Trudy’s eye.

He smiles and Trudy has a feeling – that feeling you get when you recognise someone but can’t remember where you met them or what their name is.

It’s a feeling of mild social panic and normally she doesn’t have it, because over the years she’s become very good with names and faces.

‘Trudy,’ the man says.

In lieu of saying a name she doesn’t know, Trudy smiles. ‘Hello,’ she says.

‘You won’t remember me,’ the man says.

She feels the release of relief. ‘Oh, right.’

‘Solomon,’ he says. ‘Or Sol. That’s what everyone calls me.’

‘Right.’

‘Laurie and I played bowls together.’

Now she remembers, thankfully. Laurie – who never lost the competitive streak he’d had as a younger man playing tennis – had taken up bowls when one of his golfing mates suggested it. She used to accompany him to the club Christmas parties, which is – she is now sure – when she met Sol.

‘Ah,’ she says. ‘I knew I recognised you.’

‘Did you?’ He looks delighted.

Perhaps she shouldn’t be surprised – he clearly remembered her, after all.

‘Just didn’t remember your name.’ No harm in admitting it now.

‘It’s not a name people have top of mind,’ he says, and it’s kind of him. ‘Not that common round these parts.’

Gina makes a noise and Trudy realises she’s stalled on the tiny-snipping.

‘Well, I …’ she says and points the scissors in the direction of Gina’s head.

‘Oh, certainly,’ he says.

Now it’s Josie’s turn to make a noise and Sol turns back to her.

‘I don’t have an appointment,’ he confesses, then looks in Trudy’s direction again. ‘I hoped Trudy may be able to fit me in. Laurie spoke so highly of your skills.’

‘Did he?’ Trudy says, feeling a little emotional, almost as if Laurie left her one last message, two years later. She doesn’t know why it’s taken Sol so long to come in for a cut but she’s glad of it now. Except she’s solidly booked all day.

‘Trudy doesn’t have anything free today,’ Josie says brightly. ‘Maybe Sam could help you?’

In the mirror Trudy can see Sam turning and smiling with his usual neon brightness.

That lad could power the lights at the Sydney Cricket Ground with that smile.

And where Sam turns, Evie follows. There she is now, looking in his direction.

Honestly, that girl needs to find a different target.

Sam likes her but Trudy is quite sure he doesn’t like her like that .

‘Be happy to,’ Sam says. ‘I have some time now while Mrs Kim is under the dryer.’

Sol looks uncertainly from Trudy to Sam and back again. ‘Oh. I, uh …’

There’s something in his eyes: not sadness but … is it yearning? No, it can’t be. He’s too old for that. Once you’re past a certain point it’s not becoming to yearn.

Sam catches Trudy’s eye in the mirror and understanding passes between them.

‘Of course,’ he says, ‘if you’d like to wait for Trudy I’m sure Jos can find you an appointment sometime.’

Sol’s face relaxes. ‘Thank you,’ he says.

Josie leads him over to the book while Sam nods once in Trudy’s direction.

She understands what he means: Sol wants to connect with her, probably to talk about Laurie.

Well, she’s going to let him, even if it will just make her sad.

When she thinks too much about Laurie it makes her sad and maybe her misery will like having company.