Page 21 of Lessons in Love at the Seaside Salon
‘Oh yeah?’ He tosses his head the way boys do when they’ve been underwater, as if they’re dogs shaking off a bath. ‘Me too.’
‘Where?’
‘Mechanic’s.’ He jerks his chin in the direction of the shops. ‘A coupla streets back.’
Now it’s her turn to nod.
‘Name’s Brett.’
‘Josie.’
He grins; his teeth are white and his smile is electric and she can’t help smiling back.
‘That’s such a pretty name,’ he says. ‘For a pretty girl.’
Her smile drops because she’s so surprised – he’s calling her pretty? Her cheeks feel hot and she looks down.
‘Anyway, better get going.’ He dips the front of his board as if he’s bowing to her. ‘See ya, Josie.’
‘Bye,’ she says meekly, looking after him as he walks away, only to see him turn around and wave.
The rest of her sandwich sits uneaten in its Glad Wrap because there is something in her stomach that makes her not want to eat any more. Nerves, maybe? Or excitement. Both. Neither. Who knows. Who cares! A cute boy called her pretty.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It’s been a while since Trudy’s had a bloke working in the salon. There was Carlos, that nice Spanish lad – that was quite a few years ago. He made it clear from the start he wasn’t likely to stay more than a year – ‘I wish to see the world,señora,’ he told her, and at the time Trudy was mildly offended because she thought she still qualified to be aseñorita. She used to look young for her age; smoking took care of that but it’s too late to change now and she has no regrets.
After Carlos there was Greg, who had a boyfriend and never mentioned the man’s name in front of the clients because he believed that if the boyfriend’s existence was known it could cause issues. Trudy didn’t tell him her clientele had done and seen a lot – including a war or two – and were the least likely people to judge anyone, but she didn’t know for sure, and Greg’s experience of life was quite different to hers so it wasn’t for her to tell him what to do. Greg lasted a couple of years then moved to Brisbane. She raised her eyebrows at that news – if he thought the Central Coast was conservative, the Joh Bjelke-Petersen regime north of the border would be an adjustment – but from the occasional letter he wrote he seemed to be content.
Since Greg she’s had only women working for her – not by design, it’s just how it turned out. So when Sam walked through the door this morning it was almost as if there was a shift in the ballast of the place. In a good way.
‘Hello!’ he said in a deep voice, smiling broadly.
Nice teeth, Trudy had noticed when he first came in the other day to say hello. Not that she usually assesses people as though they were horses, but when someone smiles it’s hard to avoid noticing their teeth.
Evie hadn’t said anything about Sam being so handsome when she asked Trudy if she’d consider giving him a trial. Then again, Trudy is a little vague on whether or not Evie had even met him. She knows his brother, and was sparing with the details so maybe they used to go out – although she thinks Evie would have told her that. They’ve chatted about almost everything over the six years Evie’s been working for her. She started when Billy was one year old and she needed a job to support him; Trudy didn’t ask questions about why Billy’s father wasn’t supporting him and Evie seemed grateful. Before she had Billy she’d been working at a salon at Long Jetty and Trudy never found out why she didn’t go back there – because it didn’t matter. Trudy could tell from the start that Evie had a knack for hair. So when she told Trudy about Sam, Trudy trusted her.
When Sam arrived he walked straight over to Trudy, taking her hand with both of his, as if they were long-lost friends. Usually that sort of greeting annoys her, because it always seems a little earnest – or fake-friendly – but he was still smiling and he looked deeply into her eyes and, well, the man was charming.Ischarming.
He’s now attending to his first client. Merle has been coming to the salon for decades and when Trudy asked if she’d mind being the try-out for the new bloke, she didn’t hesitate.
‘It’s been a while since I’ve had a man run his fingers through my hair, Trudy,’ she said. ‘Count me in.’
Merle is one of her more game clients. Most of the ladies like their hair done the way they’ve always had it done. For those clients Trudy may suggest a change every few years, most often to a more practical hairdo for those who don’t want to spendmuch time on themselves. Otherwise it’s a wash and dry and a set, with the occasional trim. The bread and butter of her business, so she’s not complaining. It’s just nice to have a regular like Merle who came in one day having seen101 Dalmatiansand asked for ‘a Cruella De Vil’ then, a few months later, ‘a Liz Taylor’. Elizabeth Taylor has been the inspiration for a few of Merle’s hairstyles over the years. They look nothing alike, but Trudy’s always created a reasonable facsimile of La Liz’s hair.
Today Sam’s instructions are to give Merle a haircut – not just a trim. Merle’s in her seventies now but her hair is strong so there’s plenty to work with, and she’s been growing it out for a while.
‘I’m in my Martha Graham era,’ she told Trudy a few months ago, although Trudy didn’t know who that was so she said nothing in reply.
‘Right, darl,’ Sam says as he puts his fingertips to Merle’s cheeks, a comb in one hand, tilting his head from side to side. ‘Do you have ideas or would you like me to make a decision for you?’
Merle catches Trudy’s eye in the mirror and winks. ‘Surprise me,’ she says to Sam, who looks gleeful.
‘Such a great face,’ he murmurs. ‘Did you model?’
Merle snorts. ‘Only for my husband when I bought a new brassiere.’
From the other side of the salon Evie makes a strangled noise, although her client is absorbed in a book and appears not to have heard anything. Evie looks a little shocked, although Trudy would have thought she’d be used to Merle by now. The woman can be outrageous.
