by Cassie Hamer
Lisa stayed in the gutter and watched after Heather as she disappeared down the street into a local greasy spoon. She put her head in her hands. What the hell was she going to do now? If she told Scott, he’d want to go straight to the police and maybe that was the right thing to do. Except, as Jeff pointed out, Missy had proved almost impossible to find. Ellie would be put straight into foster care, which would mean everything that they had done to this point would have been a complete waste. Besides, there was also Jamie’s wedding to think of. The girls were pants-wettingly excited about the prospect of being flower girls. If Scott and Lisa went to the authorities now, it would forever tarnish the wedding, and not just for the girls, but for Jamie as well. She’d be devastated if Ellie was wrenched from the family at the eleventh hour. She’d grown as fond of the child as Scott and Lisa were.
Heather was back with two buckets of chips. She thrust one into Lisa’s hands and started munching.
‘Oh my god, I’d forgotten how good these things were! They’re, like, better than sex!’ Heather spoke through a mouthful of hot and greasy potato.
Lisa took a bite. They were good. Straight out of the deep fryer judging by the way she was now having to pant with her mouth open. ‘How long has it been?’
‘What? Since the sex or the hot chips?’ Heather munched away. ‘Actually, it’s about the same for both. And let’s just say you need nearly two hands to count the years.’
‘Really?’ said Lisa, flabbergasted. ‘You mean you and Henry never …’
‘Dip ourselves in hot oil and get salty? Not much.’ She grinned and picked up another chip. ‘Speaking of husbands, what are you going to tell yours about Igor Ivanov?’ Heather rolled the ‘r’. ‘It kind of changes things, don’t you think. I mean, you guys might actually be in a bit of danger.’
‘Maybe,’ admitted Lisa. ‘But while you were off getting the chips, I had a chance to calm down and think things through.’ She licked the salt off her fingers and brushed her hands together to remove any excess. ‘Jamie’s wedding is in two days. Ellie’s a flower girl and she’s just so excited about it that I can’t imagine depriving her and if I tell Scott now, he’s going to want to go straight to the police.’
‘Maybe you should be going to the police?’
Lisa shook her head. ‘Think about it. We’ve managed to keep Ellie safe for nearly six weeks. What’s a couple more days.’ She shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Piece of cake.’
Heather’s eyes widened. ‘Lisa Wheeldon, look at you. Acting all renegade. I’m impressed.’
Lisa took another chip and held it up in the air. ‘Watch and learn, my friend.’ Quickly, she put the hot potato in her mouth. She didn’t want Heather to see just how badly her fingers were shaking.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Normally, the hair salon was Jamie’s happy place. Decked out with chandeliers, pink velvet chaise lounges and up-lighting that removed all evidence of ‘fine lines’ (AKA: wrinkles) it was the place where she was transported, for an hour or so every week, into a world of pampered luxury. There, she felt a little bit Marie Antoinette—minus the whole cake-entitlement attitude. But tonight, sitting in the chair with half her hair wrapped in little pieces of aluminium foil that made her resemble a beauty-obsessed alien, she felt nothing but antsy. The salon was too quiet. Her favourite hairdresser, Kristy, had come in especially to do the trial of Jamie’s wedding ’do and the salon owner was long gone, leaving just the two of them and a great big silence that Jamie was busy filling with anxious thoughts.
What will Angel say about me? And how will Ben feel after all the excitement of the show and—she shuddered as she thought of it—the kiss?
It didn’t help that Kristy seemed to be matching her mood. Jamie had never seen the girl so fidgety and nervous. After the thousandth ‘Sorry’—this time for dropping a piece of foil in Jamie’s lap—Jamie swivelled in the chair. ‘Kristy, is everything okay?’
‘All fine,’ she muttered and gently swivelled Jamie back into position to continue the bleaching.
‘I know you’ve never done foils for me before, but seriously, it’s no reason to be nervous.’ Jamie gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘It’s not like it’s for my wedding or anything,’ she joked.
Kristy smiled weakly. Jamie went back to leafing through a magazine but the words were a messy blur in her racing mind.
‘I like your new hairdo,’ Jamie said casually. After three years of near-weekly appointments, she knew Kristy well enough to know the hairdresser wouldn’t like a big fuss being made of the new, platinum pixie-cut she was sporting tonight. For as long as Jamie had known her, Kristy had tended to hide behind a curtain of heavy hair which was nearly waist-length and a deep, expensive brown, the colour of antique furniture. The short blonde crop was a radical change, but it suited her wide eyes and swan-like neck. She had transformed from Nana Mouskouri to a modern-day Twiggy.
‘Thank you,’ said Kristy, without lifting her head to acknowledge the compliment. ‘I just felt it was time for a change.’ She tilted Jamie’s head into the required position. ‘What time is your sister coming?’
Jamie checked her watch. Five to eight. ‘Should be here any minute.’
The comb slipped from Kristy’s hand and clattered to the chequerboard floor. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She covered her eyes and clutched her stomach. ‘I’m not feeling so well.’
Jamie reached down for the comb. The girl was awfully pale. More so than usual. And dark circles shadowed her large, blue eyes. Jamie passed her the comb and patted her hand. ‘Maybe you should go home? We can do this another time.’
Kristy fixed her gaze. ‘Your wedding is less than forty-eight hours away! And I can’t leave you like this …’ She gestured to Jamie’s head, and as they considered the aluminium-alien hairstyle before them, the tension eased and Jamie let out a small giggle.
‘I guess not.’
She went back to the bridal magazine. Statuesque Barbie dolls looking soulfully into the camera. Serenely happy.
At that moment, the black lacquered door to the salon swept open and in bustled Lisa. ‘I’m sorry I’m late, Jamie. The girls took forever to eat their dinner tonight.’ She pulled a face. ‘Always the way when you’re in a hurry.’ She kissed Jamie on the cheek. ‘Love the hair.’ She winked at the mop of foil on Jamie’s head. ‘Setting a new wedding trend, I see.’ Lisa sank into the lounge and kept babbling. ‘A friend of mine once got foils and it turned her hair a Trump kind of orange! She was absolutely devastated … not that your hair will go orange, I’m sure.’ Lisa beamed.
Jamie looked at her with irritation. ‘What is wrong with you? You sound like a chipmunk on acid and your eyes are like marbles. Where have you been?’
‘Ah … um … Nowhere. Just home, like I said,’ Lisa stammered.
Jamie sniffed, nose in the air. ‘You’ve been eating hot chips,’ she said accusingly.
‘Me? Hot chips? No way.’ Lisa shifted on the couch and rearranged her legs.
‘I can’t wait until this wedding’s over and I can eat again,’ muttered Jamie. ‘Anyway.’ She turned to Kristy. ‘This is my sister, Lisa, and Lisa, this is my hairdresser extraordinaire, Kristy.’
‘Sorry, how rude of me.’ Lisa leapt up. ‘Lisa Wheeldon.’ She extended her hand. ‘Jamie raves about you, so it’s wonderful to finally meet.’
‘She’s talked a lot about you too.’
As Kristy went to shake, Jamie noticed the hairdresser’s hand was trembling, as was her sister’s.
What the hell is wrong with these two? I’m the bride. Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to be nervous?
‘Hopefully, she’s only told you the good things,’ said Lisa, over-effusively.
‘Yes, only the good,’ Kristy spoke in a hoarse whisper.
‘Oh, you poor thing.’ Lisa threw her arm around Kristy’s shoulder. ‘You sound like you’ve got this dreaded flu that’s going round at the moment. Half of St John’s seems to have been wiped out with it. Not my girls
, thank goodness.’ Lisa rummaged around in her bag. ‘I always carry a Lemsip, just in case.’ She foraged some more. ‘And usually some throat lollies too.’
‘Oh, no, no, no, no.’ Kristy started backing away. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Oh my god, you two!’ Jamie exploded. ‘Can you please start acting normally. I’ve got the stress of the wedding to deal with and I really don’t need you two and your … weirdness.’ She went back to the magazine and flicked furiously, in silence, for a few seconds. As Kristy went back to the foils, Jamie looked up from the page.
‘I told you my sister was a born mother, didn’t I?’ She winked, wanting to let Kristy know that she wasn’t really cross, just a little stressed.
Kristy nodded strangely. ‘She is.’ Her voice was a whisper.
‘I know you don’t want me to talk, Jamie, but are you sure we should be doing this tonight?’ Lisa looked from Jamie to Kristy. ‘The poor girl does seem rather unwell and we can postpone to tomorrow, can’t we? It’s only hair, after all.’
‘I said the same thing.’ Jamie shrugged. ‘But Kristy says she’s okay and I don’t think she wants me walking out of here with a half-bleached head. Right, Kristy?’
‘Yes, that’s right. I’m fine.’ Kristy busied herself about Jamie’s hair while Lisa got up from the lounge, restless, and peered into the mirror.
‘Ugh! More wrinkles.’ Lisa squinted. ‘I swear it’s children that make you old. Not actual, you know, ageing.’ She retreated back to the lounge and picked up a magazine. ‘No wonder I never come to the hairdresser. No offence, Kristy.’
‘None taken.’
‘Do you have children, Kristy?’
This time it was the scissors that dropped to the floor. A flustered Kristy dropped after them and scuffled about under Jamie’s chair. ‘Sorry,’ came the muffled apology.
‘If you apologise one more time, I’ll have to lacquer you into submission with this.’ Jamie held up a can of hair spray.
‘Sorr—’
‘Kristy!’
‘All right. But I am … you know. That word.’
‘I know.’
Lisa resumed flicking through the magazine. ‘So, do you, Kristy?’
‘Do I what?’
‘Have children?’
Jamie lifted her eyes to observe Kristy in the mirror. She was interested in the answer. Usually, when she came to the salon on a Saturday morning she used it as a debriefing session and unloaded all the news and events of her week onto Kristy’s calm and quiet shoulders. But the young woman had never volunteered information about herself, and Jamie got the impression she appreciated that Jamie did not pry.
‘No, I don’t.’ Kristy spoke the words so forcefully that it seemed almost a shout compared to the hoarse whisper.
For a few seconds there was silence, while Jamie and Lisa exchanged looks and Kristy focused on mixing the puttycoloured paste being smeared onto Jamie’s hair.
‘My sister doesn’t mean to be nosy,’ Jamie explained. ‘She just loves talking about children. I’m sorr—’
‘Hey!’ In the reflection, Kristy pointed the brush at her. ‘I thought we weren’t using that word.’ She smiled and tension eased out of the room like a deflating balloon. Kristy squeezed Jamie’s shoulders. ‘Just going to mix more colour. I’ll be back in a sec.’
As Kristy headed out the back, Lisa slid into the chair next to Jamie’s. ‘Hey, I forgot to ask about the big show. How did it go?’
‘Oh my god, I completely forgot. The first reviews would be online. Quick! Pass my phone.’ Lisa handed it over and Jamie started scrolling and tapping madly, navigating to the Fashion Week coverage on the Shopping Madness website. If anyone was going to unload on Nala, it would be them. A front-row fiasco was all the ammunition they needed; Jamie had seen editors take vengeance for less.
Heart in her mouth, Jamie read the headline aloud. ‘New Aussie Designer Hits the Perfect Beat.’
Lisa clapped her hands together. ‘They loved it! Yay!’
‘Listen to this.’ Jamie kept reading. ‘In a high-octane show that transported the audience to the plains of Africa, Nala wowed the fashion crowd with a debut collection that marks her as THE Australian designer to watch. From the opening drumbeat (how hot were those drummers, BTW?!) right to the final rain shower, we were completely mesmerised by the whole production—props to Jamie Travvers for putting on one hell of a show! But back to the clothes. Chic and sexy, these are the looks that every woman will be wanting to wear. The only question is—can we wait till next summer? Might be best to put your name on the wait-list now for one of those lust-worthy maxis, because trust us, this is a designer we’ll be talking about for years to come.’
Lisa flung her arms around Jamie’s shoulders and squealed. ‘You did it! I’m so proud.’
Stunned, Jamie slowly disentangled herself from Lisa’s embrace so she could re-read the article. ‘Gosh. I can’t quite believe it,’ she said slowly.
I need to talk to Ben. I should be sharing this with him.
Kristy was back with a fresh bowl of grey peroxide for Jamie’s hair, but sensing she’d interrupted something she stopped and cleared her throat. ‘Lisa, I’ve only got a few more foils to do on Jamie here, so while I’m doing that, do you want to talk me through what you’re after for the wedding?’
While Lisa and Kristy talked chignons and top knots, Jamie let her mind wander back to the show and the way Ben had kissed her. Just thinking about it made her stomach squirm. It was everything a great kiss should be—soft yet passionate, full of desire, and something else—caring. It was a really loving kiss. She couldn’t remember the last time Jared had kissed her like that. Maybe in their early dating days, but those were so full of alcohol and lust that she couldn’t really remember much kissing at all, or whether Jared had the capability to kiss her like that. It just wasn’t him. He saw kissing as being an early stop on the journey to somewhere much more important—sex. When he did kiss her now, it was a bit rushed and forceful. Certainly, it made her feel wanted, but not cherished. Ugh. This was driving her crazy. All this thinking about Ben. In two days, she’d be married to Jared and wouldn’t have to see Ben or think about his beautiful, soft lips ever again.
Never, ever again.
Jamie felt tears tip-toeing into her throat. Oh god. If she moved to Dubai, she really wouldn’t see Ben again. She’d been so busy working on the wedding and the show to really stop and think about it. But now, the reality of life without him played like a sad, slow-motion movie in her brain. His cheeky smile. His stylish pocket squares. The way he brought her a coffee every morning. The way he consoled her when a client was being particularly difficult. The way he got her jokes, and didn’t even roll his eyes at the really terrible ones. And the way he was with Lisa’s girls. He’d be an amazing dad one day. Oh. My. Goodness. He was breathtaking. Jamie sucked in a sob.
‘Are you okay, Jamie?’ Kristy put a concerned hand on her shoulder.
‘Are you about to vomit, hon? Should I get a bucket?’ Lisa got into a crouch, ready to bolt out the back.
‘No,’ Jamie croaked. ‘Just feeling a bit overwhelmed. Lost myself in the emotion, that’s all.’
‘Hon, you’d be forgiven for that. You’ve had a massive few weeks.’ Lisa patted her arm. ‘How about I run next door to the bottlo and get us some champers? Maybe this yummy thing called moscato? It’s delicious and pink, and it’s low-alcohol. Might take the edge off.’
‘Great idea, Lise. I think I deserve it.’
‘Back in a jiffy.’ And before Kristy could mutter her assent, Lisa had disappeared out the door and into the night.
For the next two hours, the three women sipped champagne from tea cups (it was all the salon had) and discussed everything from the state of the nation’s politics (dreadful) to the new hunk on The Bachelor (was he in it for love or fame?) and of course the latest exploits of Ellie, Ava and Jemima. Lisa had the other two in stitches over Jem’s latest bad habit, which was to pull down her under
pants in the shops, pull up her dress and announce loudly to passing shoppers, ‘I have a front bottom,’ as Lisa quietly died of embarrassment and vigorously pulled the clothing back into its rightful spot.
‘So, will the girls be part of the wedding?’ Kristy asked casually after the mirth had died down.
‘Yes, of course!’ Jamie cried. ‘I couldn’t not have my darling nieces by my side on my big day.’
‘They’re going to be so cute!’ said Lisa, taking another sip of champagne. ‘Though I hope Jem doesn’t do her undies trick while walking down the aisle.’
‘She won’t,’ groaned Jamie. ‘You know what she’s like.’
‘I do know what she’s like. And that’s the problem.’
‘I’m sure she’ll be fine,’ said Kristy, putting the finishing touches to Jamie’s hair. ‘Little kids understand when things are important. That’s what my mum tells me,’ she added quickly.
‘Well, she’s right,’ said Lisa, tipping her cup towards Kristy. ‘Like Ellie, this little girl who’s staying with us at the moment. She’s just an amazing child—a flower girl as well. Anyway, last week, I thought I’d lost Mum’s earrings.’
‘The pearl ones?’ Jamie asked.
‘Exactly,’ Lisa nodded. ‘Anyway, the girls were being no help at all, until I explained to them that they were very special earrings that belonged to my mum. And you know what Ellie did? She got out a torch and got down onto the floor and searched under every bed and couch and chair in the house.’
‘And did she find them?’
‘Yes!’ said Lisa. ‘She’s just the most lovely child. The more I get to know her, the more I love her.’
‘She is a great kid,’ Jamie agreed.
‘It must have been so, so difficult for her mother to … ah … well, to do what she did. I mean, Ellie’s just so amazing, and I don’t know how anyone could bear to part with her.’
Jamie noticed Kristy had stopped pinning her hair and was staring at Lisa, her eyes full of tears. ‘Hon, are you okay?’
