Page 68 of You Only Live Once
Poppy frowned. ‘Oh! No, she doesn’t want payment.’
‘Huh?’
‘She’s doing it for free.’
‘She can’t.’
‘Well, she can, and she is. She’s actually a huge fan of your books so was super excited when I asked if she had any time.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘You can say “Darling, Poppy, you’re an absolute genius.”’
‘Darling, Poppy, you’re an absolute genius!’
‘Thank you. And that’s not all. She’s bringing her mate, who’s a fabulous hair stylist, so you can get the full effect.’
I sat in silence for a moment, both overwhelmed and hugely touched that total strangers would do this. Yes, the woman was Poppy’s friend, but still. I knew it wasn’t going to be a five-minute job and I now had someone to do my hair too. It felt like a combination of putting on armour, at the same time as emerging from the self-imposed chrysalis I’d wrapped myself in over the years since Mike died.
‘You OK?’
‘Yeah. Yes,’ I reiterated. ‘Thank you so much, Poppy. I don’t know how to thank you for sorting all this and helping me with the dress and everything. I don’t think I could be doing any of it without you backing me up and problem solving all the time.’ Tears pricked at my eyes as I realised again just how much I had shut myself off from. The time and experiences I’d missed with those I loved. I knew I needed to make more of an effort with my own family at least. They were all I had, and I loved them so much. They deserved so much more than they’d got from me.
‘It’s a pleasure, Lils. I mean it. We’re just so happy you’re doing this. You deserve a special night and anything I can do to help you feel more comfortable in taking that step is absolutely no trouble at all.’
‘You’ll come with them, though? The stylists?’ I asked, suddenly panicked about being asked about colours, styles and shapes and got a vision of me sitting in a chair, staring at them both like a bunny facing down a combine harvester, and the inevitable consequences.
‘Of course! You couldn’t keep me away even if you wanted to,’ she said, laughing.
* * *
‘You all right?’ Jack asked, early on the morning of the premiere. ‘I thought you had the hair and make-up people coming.’
‘I do.’
‘Right. It’s just that you look more like you’re awaiting the arrival of a firing squad.’
‘It feels a bit like that.’
‘It’s just because it’s out of your comfort zone.’
‘It feels like everything is out of my comfort zone lately. I’m not sure I can even see the zone at the moment!’
‘You’re doing great.’ He gave my shoulder a squeeze. ‘Bloody hell, your muscles feel like they’re welded solid.’
‘You don’t need to tell me,’ I said, reaching up to try to alleviate some of the tension in my neck by digging my fingers in. All that seemed to do was send shooting pains up through my temples, so I stopped.
‘Here, let me.’ Jack moved to stand behind me. He paused a moment, but when I didn’t protest, he continued. Warm, large hands were placed gently either side of my neck before gradually beginning a rhythmic motion, fingers and thumbs applying slight pressure to my knotted muscles.
‘How’s that?’ he asked, continuing the movement.
‘So good…’
‘Come and sit down for a minute. It will be easier for me to do it that way.’
‘I’m sure you have better things to do right now.’
‘I’m sure I don’t. Come on, sit down. They’re going to be here before long and you’ll be sitting in that chair for hours.’
