Page 5 of Lessons in Love at the Seaside Salon

CHAPTER FOUR

Josie puts her Mini into gear and rolls it down the hill, out of the cul-de-sac and toward the intersection.

Since learning to drive three years ago – as soon as she was able to get her learner’s permit – this intersection has taken her everywhere she needs to go.

She could turn right to go to the centre of Gosford and its shops, or left for the beaches.

She grew up in this cul-de-sac; she walked to school from it. None of the places she wants to be now, though, are in walking distance.

So she turns left at the intersection, because she’s going to Terrigal.

Although it’s not that much of a drive from there to here, it gives her a chance to listen to the radio, which her parents don’t like her doing because they prefer classical music whereas she prefers singers like Madonna, Cyndi Lauper and Whitney Houston.

And Duran Duran. She loves them. She’s had a crush on Simon Le Bon for the longest time.

Even if boys were interested in her she’d only be interested back if one of them looked like Simon. Or John Taylor, in a pinch.

Her mum almost died when she discovered Josie liked Madonna, even though Josie tried to reassure her that she has no intention of being as racy as Madonna – she just likes the songs.

And she likes to dance. Alone, in her bedroom.

Sometimes she dances to ‘Flashdance’ and pretends she’s the character Alex in the movie, dancing her way to a new life and a handsome boyfriend.

She would never go to a nightclub or anything.

For a start, she doesn’t have any friends who would go with her.

The girls she hangs out with are from church fellowship.

Josie is not religious, although her parents are a little.

Uniting Church, so they’re not too strict, but they’re not much fun either.

Her mum was brought up Methodist and told her how they weren’t allowed to dance with boys ‘in case it led to something’.

Leading to something is the entirety of what Josie hopes for at nineteen years of age and never having been kissed.

She turns up the volume because that Donna Summer song ‘She Works Hard for the Money’ is on and, given that she’s on her way to her first proper job, it seems appropriate.

Her window is down and the light breeze lifts her hair as she passes Brisbane Water on the right, with its scattering of small boats on its still surface.

She pats the dashboard of her Mini, as she likes to do.

This car means everything to her, even though it’s poo-brown in colour and old and probably a bit daggy.

She doesn’t care because she knows it’s worth the four years of working weekends and some nights at Gosford Maccas to pay for it.

And getting past her parents’ resistance.

‘What do you need a car for?’ her mother said when Josie told her she’d seen the ad in the classifieds for it.

Josie had rolled her eyes. ‘What do you think?’

‘We’ll drive you wherever you want to go.

’ Her mother had sounded as if she wanted to cry and Josie got the concern, she really did – her mum’s younger brother was seriously injured in a car accident in his teens, so her mum didn’t want Josie to get her Ls, didn’t want her to drive anywhere, thought that she and Josie’s dad could drive her around for the rest of her life. As if that was going to work.

‘You can’t do that, Mum,’ Josie had said with as much patience as she could muster. Because sometimes her mum’s worrying really does get to be a little too much. Surely once your child leaves school you have to let the reins go a little?

That’s what Josie thinks, anyway. She’s been a model daughter.

There was no running around with boys – because none of them wanted her, true, but she also didn’t chase them, just stayed in her bedroom looking at magazines and listening to music and watching movies because her parents let her have a VHS player and TV in there.

She tried hard at school, even though she wasn’t that good at tests and things – reading’s never been her favourite activity because the words all get jumbled on the page sometimes and no one believes her when she tells them.

Still, she did her best. And she’s still doing her best at tech, and she got herself this apprenticeship at the Seaside Salon.

Josie couldn’t believe it when she saw the ad in the local paper placed by a woman named Trudy.

She’d been looking for an apprenticeship position but there hadn’t been a single one on the Central Coast. So she’d cut out the ad and she took it to one of her teachers at tech, who then called Trudy, who owns the salon, which was really nice of her because Josie is too shy to do anything like that.

The teacher told her she’d have to get over the shyness, though, because being a hairdresser means talking to people.

‘Just treat it like an acting job,’ the teacher said.

Once, when she was in Year 8, she was in a play at school.

It was the only time she was ever cast in a play and it wasn’t a speaking role.

Both she and the drama teacher knew her limitations.

Still, she was scared about her non-speaking part because she was going to be on stage and people would see her, which meant they might not like her the way so many of the girls at school didn’t like her.

What if they told her they didn’t like her?

What if they were mean? She wasn’t ready to have more members of the Josie Non-fan Club.

Her dad figured out she was nervous and said to her, ‘Jos, it’s like this: no one really knows what they’re doing when they’re doing it for the first time. They’re just pretending they do. And through the pretending they get to figure out how to really do it. You see?’

She wasn’t sure she did, at the time, but it made her feel better, and by the third and final night of the play she was more comfortable.

That’s what she’s going to have to do today, because she feels the beating wings of butterflies in her belly as she parks the car in the street she scoped out when she did a test run two days ago. She didn’t want to have to worry about finding the salon on her first day.

She uses the short walk from the car to put her shoulders back and her chin up and a big smile on her face, acting as if she knows exactly what to do and where to go and how to be.

The Seaside Salon is not really the sort of place Josie imagined herself working in. Not working – apprenticing . She’s still an apprentice. Can’t get ahead of herself.

The salon looks a little old-fashioned from the outside.

A few of the shops in Terrigal do. What is she saying?

A few of the shops in Gosford do too, and Gosford is the busiest place on the coast. Even so, she didn’t think she’d be working in a place that has mainly old ladies as clients, which is what it looks like through the windows as she swallows her nerves and prepares to open the door, putting on a big smile.

She thought she might be in a salon that does modern haircuts – you know, the ones you see in the fashion magazines. Fashionable things interest her now.

Studying to be a hairdresser has been good for her, looks wise and confidence wise.

Learning how to make other people look nice has helped her apply the same ideas to herself and she has a better hairdo and better clothes now than she did at school, plus she knows how to put on eyeliner – not as much as Madonna, but she learnt by copying Madonna, and now that her hair has blonde streaks she can carry off heavier eyeliner.

The other day she bumped into Sharnie, one of the school bitches, at the Gosford shops and she saw something different in Sharnie’s eyes: respect. Not something Josie saw in anyone’s eyes while she was at school.

So while Josie is still shy she feels more confident than she did even a year ago, which means she’s only slightly intimidated by the idea of starting work at a salon where she knows no one.

As she pushes open the door little bells tinkle and an older lady looks over from where she’s standing behind a chair.

She has thick hair and she’s wearing a loose-fitting black dress.

Practical in a salon, Josie thinks. There’s another hairdresser on the other side of the shop who doesn’t look over.

She’s pretty, with her hair piled on top of her head in a loose bun, and she has on a floral top with a lace collar and a tight skirt.

Less practical than the black dress but the outfit suits her.

She’s combing out wet hair and chatting to her client.

‘Hello, pet,’ says the older hairdresser with a lovely smile. ‘You’re Josie, I’ll wager.’

‘Yes,’ Josie says, feeling a little calmer. ‘And I bet you’re Trudy.’

‘Correct.’ Trudy’s smile stays. ‘And that’s Evie.’

The other hairdresser looks up and waves a comb. ‘Hi,’ she says, then goes back to her client.

‘Pull up a pew.’ Trudy nods at an empty chair. ‘Once I’ve finished here I’ll give you the tour.’ She glances around and snorts. ‘Such as it is.’

‘Thank you.’ Josie smiles, grateful for the warm welcome.

‘Love your outfit,’ the client sitting in front of Trudy says, and Josie looks down as if she’s forgotten what she put on: a tube skirt – like Madonna would wear but revealing nothing – over lacy tights with a lacy top and a singlet underneath to stop her mother saying anything about it being ‘indecent’.

‘Thanks!’ She grins.

‘There are mags behind you,’ Trudy says.

Josie swivels in her chair. Magazines are always good for getting ideas for clothes and hair, so she likes to look at them even if she finds it hard to read the articles.

‘Thanks,’ she says again, then flips open Mode . She doesn’t get this one at home.

It doesn’t hold her interest for long, though, because her eyes roam over the salon décor.

The pink and orange is an interesting combination, she has to admit – not one her mother would ever allow, but then her mother gets all her style cues from Jacqueline Onassis, who would be really unlikely to put pink and orange together.

The mirrors look a little old – their frames are worn – but they’re clean.

The place is tidy, and the windows that take up almost the whole front of the place make it look more spacious than it is.

Even though the buildings on the other side of the road separate them from the beach, she can see the tops of the pine trees that line up next to the surf club along the promenade.

They make her feel as if she’s almost working at the beach, which is pretty cool.

So this place is pink and orange, and pretty cool.

She catches the eye of Trudy, who winks, and Josie smiles back.

Sure, this salon isn’t what she expected, but it might be all right here. She starts reading the magazine properly and waits for Trudy to be ready for her.