Page 27 of Six Steps to Happiness
He raised an eyebrow. “Looked in the mirror lately?”
In all the excitement, Ronnie had forgotten about her hair. “Excuse me?” Trying to keep up her bravado, she willed herself not to blush. But she could tell by Nick’s sneer that he knew he’d struck a nerve. Anger began to well inside of her but, unlike him and his tic, no way was she going to show it. Ronnie flicked her head. “It’s called trying something new.” She looked her ex-husband up and down. Taking in his beige slacks and cricket sweater, he reminded her of a cheesy home catalogue model. “Something you know a lot about, I see.”
A long spine-chilling scream sounded from next door.
“Gaye!” Nick said. His eyes widened in horror as he raced out of the room and down the hall, leaving Ronnie standing there.
Remembering the secret message she’d written on Gaye’s bathroom mirror, Ronnie knew she should have been smiling a satisfied smile. She should have imagined Gaye turning on the hot tap and steam billowing as the woman added one of her fancy lotions and potions to the water. Ronnie should have pictured her neighbour breathing in the scent as she stepped into her brilliant white tub in her brilliant white room, enjoying the fact that instead of a nice calming bath, Gaye was freaking thanks to a so-calledmessage from the dead. Gaye deserved the upset, of course. Ronnie’s ex-husband did too. But instead of relishing in the moment, Ronnie’s sole focus on was the way Nick had looked at her only seconds before.
His expression had been contemptuous and mocking, while his ridicule felt both hurtful and gratuitous. Had she become that much of a fool to him? Did he and Gaye really think they had all the rights and she had all the responsibilities? Ronnie scoffed. Yes, it seemed they did. It was her job to be the adult, after they’d sneaked around like a pair of desperate teenagers. It was her job to suck it up after being dumped on her wedding anniversary. It was her job to appreciate that twenty-five years of marriage, of trust, of compromise, didn’t compare to the sordid, squalid and downright selfish ardour that Nick and Gaye had found. Ronnie felt herself becoming increasingly incensed. It was her job to shut the fuck up and get over it.
Well, she’d show them.
Overwhelmed by a sudden sense of purpose, Ronnie took off her wedding ring and placed it in the centre of the dining table. She turned and headed for the kitchen drawers. Opening the first, she pulled out a large pair of kitchen scissors, their metal blades feeling cool to touch as she laid them on her palm and wrapped her fingers tight around them. She headed out of the kitchen and facing straight ahead, calmly made her way upstairs to the bathroom.
Ronnie gave herself a long hard stare in the mirror, unwavering as she grabbed a fistful of hair. Opening the blades out to their fullest, she used the scissors to bite the shock off at the root. Letting every last strand drop into the sink below, her eyes didn’t move from her reflection as she repeated the action over and again, until finally there was nothing left to cut.
18
Ronnie stood at the kitchen counter flicking through various Internet pictures on her laptop. She paused to look at one photo in more detail – chairs stacked on a table in the weirdest of configurations. She picked up a pen and made a note on the pad lying to one side. Poltergeists, it seemed, could be creative when they wanted to be, and Ronnie chuckled, looking forward to imitating some of their more intricate activities.
Planning on going bigger and better on her next visit into number eight, Ronnie checked her watch, pleased to see she still had plenty of time to continue her research before Willow and Bea landed. Feeling nervous yet excited about their arrival, they still didn’t know about her new hair-free look. Ronnie smiled as she raised her hand to rub the stubble on her head, unable to quite believe she’d taken a pair of scissors and then a razor to her own scalp. She anticipated their response. No doubt something along the lines of her having had a nervous breakdown; whereas in truth, it had been the most liberating act Ronnie had ever carried out.
She frowned as the doorbell rang, wondering who’d come a calling. She knew it wouldn’t be her daughter or mother-in-law; they always let themselves in. Heading down the hall to find out, Ronnie took a deep breath before answering. She herself might love her new image, but she’d yet to see how anyone else would respond.
Opening the door, she froze.
“Ronnie?” PC Jack Shenton asked.
Ronnie stared at her visitor. Despite his threat to ring the police if she dared step inside next door in the future, it seemed Nick had decided to get them involved anyway. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised; her ex-husband’s words and actions hadn’t been the same thing for quite some time. She took in PC Shenton’s uniform; bringing in the boys in blue was a useless exercise. Ronnie had, after all, covered her tracks well. She smiled, as confident as any untouchable. “Please, come in.”
As she led the way into the kitchen, Ronnie felt a slight panic as she clocked the photo still visible on her laptop screen. Remembering the pizza menu from Jack’s previous home visit, she hastily shut the screen down in what could only be described as a case ofdéjà vu. She turned to Jack who, too busy looking at her, thankfully hadn’t seemed to notice. “So…” she said as she waited for him to speak. “What can I do for you?”
He continued to stand there wide-eyed and silent.
“Jack?” she said. “PC Shenton?”
He appeared to shake himself out of it. “I’ve got one word,” he finally said. “Wow!”
Ronnie felt herself redden. More concerned about Nick’s threat and the computer image, she’d forgotten about her lack of hair for a moment. She took in his expression and, putting a hand up to her head, wondered if that was wow in a good way? Or wow as in bad? It was the first bit of feedback she’d had since shaving her head.
“You look incredible,” he added, his face lighting up.
Ronnie felt relieved, pleased to know she hadn’t swapped one rock star image for another. She didn’t think she’d appreciate being accused of doing a Britney. She waited for him to say something else, but he seemed transfixed and the more he stared at her, the more she found herself getting lost in his gaze. Jeez, the man was gorgeous. She recalled their conversation at the gym and thinking she’d have liked to have gotten to know him more, deemed it a shame he was there in the line of duty.
Unable to hold his regard any longer, Ronnie diverted her eyes. Embarrassed, she wasn’t used to receiving that degree of attention from a member of the opposite sex, let alone from someone as handsome as Jack. Not even from Nick, she realised, and he’d been her husband. She wondered why she hadn’t thought of going bald sooner. If she was reading Jack’s response correctly, it might have saved her marriage.
An awkward silence descended as Ronnie waited for him to start questioning her. When it came to next door, she’d deny any accusations, of course, but doubted she’d be believed. After all, during his last visit, Jack had issued her with a harassment notice. “So…” she said, deciding she should get everything over and done with. “How can I help?”
“Sorry?” As if remembering himself, Jack cleared his throat. “Oh, yes.”
Ronnie watched him reach into his inside jacket pocket, steeling herself for the imminent lecture about how she’d left him no choice.Here we go, she reasoned, recalling how things had gone the last time.Him and his blooming notebook.
“I brought you this,” he said.
Ronnie looked at the item in his outstretched hand. It was a notebook all right, only not the one she expected. She took in its pale pink outer and gold lettered cover quote:Live, Laugh, Shine. She was sure she had one of those already. “I don’t understand.”
“You left it on the pavement,” Jack said. “On the High Street.” He let out a laugh, back to fixating on her new image. “I can’t believe how different you look.”
