Page 18 of One Snowy Day
10
GEORGIE
Georgie’s body was at the colouring station, chatting away to her Aunt Cathy while carefully sectioning her curly locks and applying a purple hue that didn’t actually exist in the sphere of human or animal hair, but her mind was somewhere else altogether.
She still hadn’t made the call back to the TV company to reject the job of Ollie Chiles’ on-set hairdresser in Colorado and LA.
When she’d greeted him with the news of the official offer, Grant had delayed the inevitable by attempting to offer a counter-argument to immediate refusal. He’d taken her hand, nodding thoughtfully, as he’d said, ‘Georgie, let’s slow down and think about this.’ He’d then immediately rebounded and offered a very definite, ‘Okay, I’ve thought about it and come to the conclusion that you’ve lost your mind if you don’t take the job.’
She’d lifted her head from the desk. ‘You’re not helping.’
‘I am. You just can’t see it. Georgie, this is the kind of offer that doesn’t come along twice and you should snatch it like your lifedepends on it. Why don’t you just close the salon for six months and go do it?’
Georgie’s shoulders had sagged. ‘I can’t. You know better than anyone that when you close a salon you have the potential to lose all your business. It might never recover. All it would take would be for another shop to open and poach all our clients and then there would be no coming back.’
He knew that was true, so he’d switched tack.
‘Okay, fine. But this salon isn’t the only option. You’re an exceptionally talented hairdresser. IfTheClansmanthing turns out to be short term, you could go to another salon, maybe go into the city.’
Georgie had a ready-prepared argument for that one too.
‘I don’t want to traipse into Glasgow every day. Besides, I’m way too neurotic and not great with authority. The minute some temperamental arse bossed me around, I’d be out of there. Or all the other staff would be ruthlessly glamorous, and I’d spend every lunchtime in the toilet researching non-surgical facelifts and scrolling the Zara website for new outfits.’
She knew her younger brother would have trouble comprehending her insecurities because he was everything that she wasn’t. Assertive. Trailblazing. Bold. He was the kid that had persuaded his mother to dye his hair blue in high school, and none of the other lads had even considered challenging him about it, because he was so fricking cool.
Grant had always had big plans and ambitions, but Georgie had happily taken a different path. After she’d fallen pregnant at nineteen, she’d been so madly and mutually in love with Flynn that they’d insisted – despite Jessie’s request to take their time – on waltzing up the aisle.
‘Oh, and Flynn says he wants me back too. Today is the gift that just keeps on giving.’
‘Urgh, he’s a twat,’ Grant had groaned. Unlike Jessie, her brother wasn’t great at keeping his feelings to himself and he’d never quite forgiven Flynn for doing a runner.
Time had given Georgie more of a balanced perspective on that, though. They’d been twenty years old when Kayleigh was born and they’d been together since they were kids themselves. Maybe it was inevitable that almost two decades later they’d need space to figure out who they were. Maybe it wasn’t too late for them to give it another go. They’d been happy for a long time and if he hadn’t made that one mistake, she was certain that they’d still be together. And although Kayleigh was saying she was fine with their divorce, Georgie knew how pleased their daughter would be if they were one unit again. Maybe this was how it was supposed to play out. Perhaps they were being given this second chance because there was true meaning in them choosing each other again. She could hardly tell him that everything was going to be tickety-boo if she had any intention of buggering off to Colorado.
As for Kayleigh – how would her daughter feel about her mother globetrotting across to America? Actually, that argument didn’t really hold up, because Georgie knew she’d be thrilled about the whole thing. Kayleigh had already made it clear that she’d probably only come back to the village for special occasions or to visit her mum, so the prospect of spending her university holidays abroad, onTheClansmanset, would thrill her. Not only was it one of Kayleigh’s favourite shows, but she loved travelling, so it would tick all the boxes. If Georgie broached the possibility of coming to Colorado for Christmas, Kayleigh would have her bag packed and be at the airport before Georgie finished the question.
Okay, so other than the fact that Georgie hated the thought of being thousands of miles away from her daughter, she knewKayleigh would be on Grant’s positivity bus about this opportunity. Which meant that number one on the objection list was leaving the salon and thereby breaking her mother’s heart and possibly wrecking her retirement. Number two? Rejecting the chance to reunite with her former husband and potentially live a long and happy life together.
However, Grant had refused to let the new Flynn information detract him from his argument. ‘Let me ask you… If it was up to you, and there were no outside complications, no other people to consider, would you want to take this job?’ He’d registered her hesitation. ‘Stop thinking about it and just give me your first reaction.’
‘Okay, yes. I would. But life isn’t that simple because the reality is that I do have other people to consider. And… Oh shit…’ Her attention had been broken by a sight in her peripheral vision. Outside the window. Three well-insulated ladies in padded coats, furry hats and boots that could take them on an Arctic expedition, were leaving the Once Upon A Time Café across the road, and wading through the snow, towards them.
‘They’re on the way. Let me go fix myself up, or Mum’s spider senses will kick in. You know she can detect problems like a fricking sniffer dog.’
With that, she’d bolted to the staffroom, brushed her hair, put on a coat of lippy, sprayed a dash of perfume, pulled her shoulders back and slapped a breezy smile on her face before making an entrance and greeting the new arrivals.
She’d got away with it, but only just. Her mum’s maternal sniffer dog had identified an issue, but she’d been too distracted by the occasion to pursue it and thankfully, she was now too busy chatting to Val to bring her laser-focus back to Georgie.
‘Right, Aunt Cathy, that’s you for thirty minutes,’ she announced, carefully wrapping a towel around Cathy’s neck tocatch any errant drips. ‘Why don’t you take a seat down next to Mum and Val, and I’ll get you another champagne.’
‘Will do, pet. But before I go…’ The last part of the sentence was delivered in a whisper, so Georgie leaned in as close as possible, without risking a purple face.
‘Do you think your mum is okay? I’m worried about her. She’s doing that thing where she’s acting happy, but her smile isn’t reaching her eyes. The last time I saw that was at her sixtieth birthday party, right before her appendix burst.’
Georgie remembered that one way too well. Her mum had been so grateful for her surprise party, so happy to see everyone, so determined not to spoil the night, that she didn’t mention the not-too-insignificant fact that her stomach felt like it was being eviscerated, until she passed out, then came round on a stretcher on the way to surgery.
‘I think she’s just sad about saying goodbye.’
Aunt Cathy looked worried. ‘Do you think she’s having second thoughts about going?’
