Page 32 of Lessons in Love at the Seaside Salon

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

It’s Evie’s second time going to the movies with Sam and regardless of what Mrs Behar said, she is sure this is a date. Because this time Sam asked her , not the other way around.

On Thursday he said to her, ‘You look nice,’ and glanced up and down at her.

She flushed at the compliment, and also because he noticed, as she has been making an effort, even if it’s just in her accessories.

A fortnight ago she bought some scrunchies in neon colours, and she’s been tying up her hair like Madonna used to – a little messy – hoping that it looks carefree.

That’s in addition to the hot-pink lipstick she’s been wearing, and she’s also doing her eyes.

‘I love old movies,’ he said the other day as he boiled the kettle in the back room.

‘Oh?’ She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Was he expecting her to say she loved them too?

Because she presumed he already did, given the movie they saw together.

Was she meant to love them too? Is she meant to love everything he loves or be her own woman?

The magazines she reads are divided on the issue.

‘Have you ever seen Blossoms in the Dust ? Greer Garson. Love her.’

Evie shook her head. She hadn’t grown up in a movie-centric household – her parents thought reading to be a better way of spending time.

‘ To Catch a Thief !’ he said. ‘Grace Kelly!’ He looked rapturous. ‘God, she was beautiful. And Cary Grant – so debonair.’

She murmured her agreement but said nothing more in case she jinxed whatever was about to happen, because she had a feeling about what he was leading up to.

‘ High Society ?’ he went on. ‘Sinatra, Crosby, Kelly. The best! And of course …’ He closed his eyes briefly. ‘ Giant . Rock Hudson. James Dean. Elizabeth Taylor.’ He looked at her expectantly. She had, in fact, heard of Giant – probably everyone had – and told him so.

‘Great,’ Sam said. ‘Because there’s a showing of it at this old picture place in Gosford. One session only. Saturday night.’

She smiled encouragingly.

‘Should we go?’ he said, nudging her.

She counted to five in her mind so she didn’t shout ‘yes’.

‘Do you think your ex would mind looking after Billy?’

The way he said ‘your ex’ rather than Stevo’s name made him sound slightly jealous, she thought.

Your ex. It’s not a label even she gives Stevo, because he’s always just Stevo and he feels like family more than he feels like her ex.

So she was a little thrilled when Sam said it.

Thrilled that maybe he was jealous. Also thrilled that he was asking her out on a Saturday, because that’s definitely date night.

Now she’s fussing over what to wear. Not that she has many options: despite her new interest in accessories, clothes have never been that important to her.

At nineteen Josie has a better wardrobe than Evie ever had.

Maybe Josie could give her some tips, because if Evie keeps seeing Sam outside of work she’ll want to look her best.

The best she can come up with tonight, however, is a flowery blouse with her favourite jeans and some daggy court shoes of the style favoured by The Princess of Wales – a low heel, so Diana doesn’t tower over Charles – although Evie wishes she had Diana’s long legs to go with the shoes.

‘You look so nice!’ Sam says as she opens the door to him, then he kisses her on the cheek and she can feel herself blushing.

He drives her into Gosford, chatting the whole way, which puts her at ease – not that she should feel ill at ease, given they work together and chat all the time, but going out socially is different. Or she wants it to be different, not just chatting about clients and their hair.

Sam finds a parking spot near the cinema and offers her his arm as they walk.

It’s almost enough to make her swoon, and she’s about to be brave and tell him so – because she really needs to say something, to make sure she acknowledges that this is more than them being work buddies – when she realises she can’t.

And the reason she can’t is Sam’s brother, Oliver, who is standing outside the cinema.

What are the chances, she wonders, of him happening to come to the same movie they’re going to?

Not good, she knows. Which means Sam and Oliver have arranged this.

Which means … this is not a date. No, that can’t be right.

It’s definitely a date! It has to be! Except the fact of Oliver standing in front of her, looking really pleased to see her, suggests that, yet again, she and Sam aren’t seeing eye to eye on the direction of their connection.

Evie knows what she has to do: not let either man see she is disappointed – in fact, profoundly upset.

Because they didn’t know what she was expecting.

They didn’t know she had hopes and dreams and desires that she’d loaded onto a moment or a minute or an hour, or a movie.

And they shouldn’t know, because those hopes and dreams and desires are hers.

They’re tender. They’re delicate. So delicate they can be destroyed in the milliseconds it will take to wrangle with that truth and work out how to re arrange her face and feelings so she doesn’t reveal them.

Because those hopes and dreams are too precious.

It’s impossible to reveal to the object of her crush – okay, it’s a little more intense than that but she doesn’t know what else to call it – that by inviting his brother along to the same movie he’s indicating, as powerfully as anything could, that he doesn’t feel the same way about her.

What if Sam thinks her crush on him is funny?

That is the most mortifying thing she can contemplate at this moment in time.

It’s worse than being in Year 11 and thinking that Damo on the cricket team is a spunk then having one of the girls tell him, and him sniggering with his mates and calling out, ‘As if!’ as she walked past.

So much worse because it isn’t a crush she has on Sam.

It is much more developed than that. It’s layered.

It’s considered. And it’s nothing she can control.

She would if she could because no one wants to feel as wretched as she does right then.

As silly, as inadequate, as ashamed . Yes, she’s ashamed.

And he can’t know. Nor can Oliver, because god knows what Oliver would think.

He’d probably laugh at her too because as if beautiful Sam would be interested in her.

As if. Yes, that’s what her life feels like it’s amounting to: aggregations of as-ifs.

All this contemplation takes milliseconds and in that flash of time Evie has to come up with a smile that suggests she is pleased to see Oliver but not overly pleased; a smile that indicates that she is not confused about him being there, not upset – even though these are both true – because to offer otherwise would be to make things uncomfortable for him and for Sam and, of course, she can’t do that.

She has to make sure that everyone feels fine, except her.

That’s her job as a woman, isn’t it? As a mother, especially.

Don’t let on you’re upset, ever. Don’t make life uncomfortable for other people.

Don’t ask for what you want and don’t ever, ever, ever get what you want.

That’s for women who a man like Sam would fall in love with, and she is not one of them.

‘Hi – hi, Oliver,’ she says, her voice catching despite her resolve.

Oliver’s face lights up. At least he’s happy to see her.

And she knows she likes his company. It won’t be enough, though, to get her through however many hours of Giant there are.

What she would really like to do is go home and cry, but she’ll have to keep the tears packed in her throat until Sam drops her off.

Then she’ll have to think about how to behave around him in the salon on Monday.

Maybe she should quit her job. That’s an option.

It would save her some discomfort. Of course, Trudy would want to know why she’s going and she won’t be able to tell her, plus she won’t find another salon as conveniently located because while there’s another salon in Terrigal, she couldn’t work there – Trudy would find out and that would make life uncomfortable.

So, all round, she’s not in a good spot and that makes her feel even more like crying. Oh god , why doesn’t life get easier when you get older? When she was a kid she thought all mums and dads had things sorted out, yet here she is, a mother, and she is so far from being sorted out it’s ridiculous.

‘Evie!’ Oliver moves as if to hug her but she stays still so he stops. ‘Sam didn’t tell me you were coming.’

Sam looks pleased about this, and that’s when it occurs to Evie that he may be trying to get her and Oliver together.

Doesn’t he know their history? What has Oliver told – or not told – him?

Worse than that, has he been thinking about bringing them together the whole time?

That means he’s never going to feel anything for her.

She’s never going to be able to convince him to love her, no matter how hard she tries.

And there was a skerrick of hope in her, until about a minute ago, that she could indeed try.

‘Right, let’s get tickets,’ Sam says, grinning at her, then at Oliver. ‘My treat.’

Evie moves to stand on the other side of Sam so she doesn’t walk in next to Oliver. This may be a set-up but that doesn’t mean she has to go along with it.

‘I’ll get choc tops,’ Oliver says once the tickets are bought, then Evie and Sam are alone again.

‘Hope you don’t mind,’ Sam says, screwing up his face and half-giggling. ‘I know you haven’t seen each other for a while and he’s really fond of you.’

As his eyebrows go up, Evie’s spirits go down.

‘Not at all,’ she lies, but when she follows him into the cinema it feels like a trip to the gallows, and it’s no comfort, as she sits in the dark with Oliver somehow on one side of her and Sam on the other, to know that she put the noose around her own neck.