Mermaid Hair and I Don’t Care: A romantic comedy about shoes, surf and second chances

by CJ Morrow

  ‘There,’ Tess said. ‘I told you.’

  Gemma sniffed. ‘Yes. Well. Good.’

  ‘And Lily did run up the lane and get it back for you.’

  ‘Yes. Thank you, Lily.’ Gemma blew her nose. ‘It’s alopecia, in case you’re wondering.’

  Lily nodded. She had wondered but would never have asked.

  ‘It happened after I had Pixie-Bella. And that’s why I won’t have any more. Can you imagine? I’d be completely bald, I’d look like a boiled egg.’

  ‘Eek,’ Lily mouthed to Tess behind Gemma’s back.

  ‘And your brother wants me to have another one. What do you think of that?’ Gemma said to Tess, then turned back to Lily. ‘What do you think of that?’

  Lily, wide-eyed and speechless, looked at Tess.

  Tess sighed. ‘Gem, all he said was that if you weren’t having any more children maybe you should think about getting a part-time job.’

  ‘Is that what he told you?’

  ‘Isn’t it true?’

  ‘His version I suppose.’ Gemma shook herself before standing up. ‘Shall we get going then?’ she said, as if the delay had nothing to do with her.

  The journey in the back of the car was just as torturous as Lily expected. By the time they arrived at Gemma’s – she insisted on being dropped off first – Lily could hardly heave herself out of the car. With aching knees she helped decant Gemma’s vast amount of luggage onto the pavement where it sat until Joe came out to meet them. He hugged Gemma, genuinely pleased she was back. Rafe and Pixie-Bella hugged her too, chanting ‘mummy, mummy, did you bring us a present.’ Of course, Gemma had.

  Back in the car and on their way to Lily’s she sat in the front of the car and stretched her legs.

  ‘That’s better.’

  ‘Sorry about Gemma being so demanding. I know she needs a lot of airtime. Only I had to let her come.’

  ‘It’s okay. I can see that her life isn’t as perfect as I thought it was. Will they sort it out? Will it all be okay between them?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure it will. She has these little tantrums from time to time, she is quite highly-strung, our Gemma.’ Tess allowed herself a little snigger. ‘The timing was unfortunate; it meant she could latch onto our holiday. Still on the plus side, I suppose if she hadn’t been there you wouldn’t have been able to go and stay with Jackson. Would you?’

  When Lily didn’t respond, mainly because the mention of Jackson brought back such bittersweet memories, Tess pressed for an answer.

  ‘No, of course I wouldn’t. It was just lucky that I could.’

  ‘Well I know what I’ll be doing this evening.’ Lily eyed her bags as she and Tess dropped them on the hall floor.

  ‘Washing,’ they said in unison, before laughing.

  ‘Actually,’ Tess said, leaning in as though telling a secret in a crowded room. ‘I’m going out on another date with Gareth.’

  ‘Gareth? What? The same Gareth you met at stained glass classes?’

  ‘Yes. The very same Gareth.’

  ‘I thought you said he was arrogant and rude.’

  ‘He thought the same about me. Seems we both got it wrong. He’s really very nice.’

  ‘I can’t imagine how anyone could think you were arrogant or rude. You’re the sweetest person I know. Let’s face it, no one could tolerate Gemma the way you do.’

  ‘Like I said, we both got it wrong.’

  ‘Another date? How many previous dates have there been?’

  ‘This is number six.’

  ‘You’ve kept that quiet. How long has this been going on?’

  ‘About a month,’ she paused. ‘Including the two weeks we’ve been away.’

  ‘That’s five dates in two weeks. You are keen.’

  ‘We both are.’

  ‘So he’s why you went up the lane to pick up your messages everyday. He’s the reason you smiled at your phone so often. It all makes sense now.’

  Tess smiled. ‘Okay Sherlock, I need to get off now. Have a good rest of your weekend.’

  ‘You too. Urgh back to work on Monday.’ Lily mock-shuddered as she hugged Tess goodbye.

  Lily had unpacked and already had a load in the washing machine before she checked her phone again. There was a message from Will, a photo no less. He was astride the motorbike – of course – stripped to the waist again, bronzed and wearing sunglasses. God he looked good. Too good. Lily felt a pang of regret. And yearning. He grinned at the camera. It wasn’t a selfie – that much Lily could clearly see – but there was no one else in the picture. She zoomed in to look at Will’s gorgeous face – an attempt to forget Jackson’s. She probably would take him back, she thought, scanning over the photo. He was so stunningly gorgeous, even if he was a bit inconsiderate at times, and commitment phobic.

  ‘What the hell,’ she said out loud, before zooming in closer. Reflected very clearly in his sunglasses was an image of the person who took the photo and it wasn’t one of his mates. From what Lily could see, she was tall, leggy, blonde and in a very skimpy one-piece bikini. ‘Bastard,’ Lily screeched.

  Eleven

  Lily didn’t sleep well the next two nights; she tossed and turned and didn’t know quite why she was so annoyed. She’d broken up with Will; she’d dumped him. He was free to do as he pleased, wasn’t that what she’d been doing? So he was with some near naked long-legged lovely. So what? She’d just spent nine days with a tanned surf Adonis. Nine of the best days of her life, too. How could she possibly object to anything Will did after what she’d done?

  And yet she did. She’d dumped him; he should be heart-broken. Maybe he just didn’t care. Maybe he never had. He would be away for another two weeks; then it would be crunch time. Either they made a go of it, or never saw each other again.

  Was it that simple? Then there was Jackson. Just the memory of him made her hug herself; she closed her eyes and imagined his strong arms around her. At least there was no decision to make with Jackson; they’d agreed that they would never see each other again.

  She spent the rest of the weekend concentrating on her washing, ironing and getting her hair into some semblance of smooth and professional. Finally, late on Sunday afternoon deciding to check on her work emails – she could at least clear the rubbish ones before Monday – she fished her phone out of the drawer and switched it on, three missed calls from work, but it was the switchboard number so she had no idea who had rung.

  ‘Well, hello Ms Lillian Ward. Look at that fabulous tan. Where have you been? And did you have a fab time?’ Damon held his arm against hers to compare skin tones.

  ‘Don’t call me that,’ Lily snapped.

  ‘Oh. Oops.’

  ‘Sorry. Yes. I did have a good time, I went to Devon. I had a great time in fact. Just a bit, you know…’ She wasn’t telling Damon she was already missing her holiday romance man or that she was seething over Will’s behaviour.

  ‘And how’s the lovely Will?’

  ‘Yeah, he’s good.’ She smiled brightly. No need for Damon to know that Will was across the other side of the Atlantic without her.

  ‘So?’ Damon waited, expectant.

  ‘Oh no. It was just a nice meal out.’ She grimaced.

  Damon, displaying great tactfulness, changed the subject. ‘I’m guessing you’ve heard the news.’ Damon lifted his eyes to the sky, an exaggerated movement made all the more dramatic when he kept his head straining upwards for too long.

  ‘No. What news?’

  ‘You must have had an email; they must have sent you an email at the very least, though I think a phone call would be more appropriate.’

  ‘I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but I haven’t been able to read any emails on my phone, my damn password expired while I was away.’

  ‘Oh well, once you log onto your computer I’m sure you’ll be as up to date as the rest of us. I must go; I need to discuss direct debits with The Europeans.’ With that Damon strutted back to his own desk and flopped into his chair
as though talking to Lily had exhausted him.

  Lily logged on, updated her password, and waited for her computer to download over three hundred emails. Her heart sank even though she knew that many of them would be spam, irrelevant, or just out of date. She started at the bottom and began the laborious process of sifting through them. If she was lucky she might get it done in an hour. Maybe that was optimistic, aside from deleting the rubbish ones she’d have to create action and immediate action folders. Urgh.

  ‘How’s it going?’ Damon squeezed himself onto the corner of her desk and smiled.

  ‘Still wading through.’ Now it was Lily’s turn to roll her eyes to the ceiling.

  Damon waited as though expecting more and when it didn’t come he sighed. ‘There is some news that won’t be there, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Oh. Not sure I like the sound of that.’

  ‘It’s about Josh.’

  ‘Oh. Yes. Have you heard from him? How’s he getting on? I saw him down in Devon. Isn’t that funny?’

  ‘There’s no easy way to say this.’ Ignoring Lily’s comment, Damon exhaled then took a deep breath before continuing. ‘Josh died, Lily.’

  ‘No. How? Why?’ Lily’s heart was beating so fast she felt faint. She’d chatted to him in the post room on his last day a little over two weeks ago. He’d guided her onto the right path when she’d been lost on her way to the beach. How could he possibly be dead?

  ‘That night. His last day here. He went home, sat in his chair and just popped off. Massive heart attack, or stroke, or something. Anyway he didn’t suffer, just went really quickly.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘His last day here. Friday. Your last day before your hols. Aren’t you listening?’

  ‘No, that can’t be right. I told you, I saw him in Devon.’

  ‘You couldn’t have. He never got there. His son came up to take him down to Devon on the Saturday afternoon and found him dead.’ Damon leaned in, his voice a whisper. ‘Not very nice, they had to have a post-mortem and everything.’

  ‘Ah, poor Josh.’ Lily felt a single tear run down her face. She couldn’t understand it. She was certain that she’d seen him on the path in Devon. Absolutely certain it was him. But how could it be?

  ‘When’s the funeral? I must go.’

  ‘Last Friday hun, sorry.’

  ‘Did you go?’

  ‘Yes. We had the afternoon off so most of the company went. Remember all those stories about him being a banker and an astronaut. Turned out it was all true. Anyway our department needed time away from the office, even if it was for a funeral, after the morning’s saga.’

  ‘What saga?’

  ‘Haven’t you caught up with your emails yet? What have you been doing? You’ve been at it an hour.’

  ‘Sorting them.’ Lily’s voice was indignant. ‘Appropriately.’

  ‘I suggest you skim through and get to the pertinent ones.’ Damon got up. ‘Pronto,’ he called back at her.

  The email was marked ‘Private and Personal’. How could she have missed that? It was from Heather in HR and started off very formally – the standard ‘thank you for applying’ letter that they sent to everyone who didn’t get the job they’d applied for. It explained that she hadn’t been successful and wished her well in her career. Heather had added a personal note on the end explaining that she was so sorry to email this news but hadn’t been able to reach Lily by phone. So that explained the missed calls on her work mobile.

  Lily’s heart sank.

  She looked up and saw Damon watching her. He raised his eyebrows and gave her a sardonic sneer.

  ‘I didn’t get it,’ she mouthed.

  ‘I know,’ he said, shrugging.

  Lily went to Damon’s desk. ‘So who did?’

  ‘Read the emails,’ Damon said. ‘Just read. Then I’ll fill in the juicy details.’

  ‘Can’t you just…’

  ‘No,’ Damon cut in. ‘Just read.’

  Back at her desk Lily skimmed through her emails until she reached the one that Damon was obviously referring to. First there was the announcement. It came from the MD, Mr Benson himself. It was the standard, ‘We’re delighted to announce…’ Her eyes glossed over the detail, what did it matter? All she knew was that she hadn’t got it. It had gone to some man who’d worked at KPMG and other ‘prestigious blue chip companies’. Oh yes. It was a job for the boys and probably some old boy at that.

  Damon caught her eye again. ‘Well?’

  ‘I already knew I hadn’t got it.’

  ‘There are two emails, have you read them both?’

  Lily shook her head and scanned for the final one. And found it. It was from the new finance director. He introduced himself – Cyril Montgomery-Jones. Urgh, even his name made Lily shudder – Montgomery-Jones. She imagined some old stuffed shirt parading around with a fat, red face. He was calling a meeting – that was the meeting Damon had referred to, the one that Lily had missed on Friday morning – where they would discuss how things would be moving forward, blah, blah, blah. Lily couldn’t even bring herself to read the rest of it.

  ‘Okay,’ she said to Damon when she perched on the corner of his desk. ‘Give me the details.’

  ‘We’re going to have our jobs reassessed.’

  ‘Yes. That’s hardly news. You and I already know that one of us will be leaving.’

  ‘Not just us. He is going to restructure the whole department and radicalise some of our processes.’ Damon folded his arms across his chest.

  ‘And...’ Lily was waiting. A restructure was hardly radical; she would have done the same herself.

  ‘The Europeans are absolutely wetting themselves with worry.’

  Lily glanced over at Urve and Beata, they sat silently side by side in their usual heads-down-working-hard positions. Their jobs were probably the safest in the department.

  ‘What’s he like?’

  Damon shrugged. ‘Okay. If you like that sort of thing.’ A little smile played across his face but Lily could see him fighting it back down.

  ‘Fat old toad?’

  ‘Definitely not.’ Now Damon allowed the smile to break free before it turned into a quick, shrill laugh. He put his hand over his mouth.

  ‘So? What is he like?’

  ‘Mmm. Very short, dark hair. Expensive suit. Obviously loves his clothes.’ Damon smoothed his hands down his own body as if feeling the expensive suit. ‘Seemed very pleasant and knowledgeable. We got on very well.’

  ‘And? What else?’

  ‘No wedding ring. No girlfriend. Make of that what you will. And he smells luscious.’

  ‘How do you know he has no girlfriend?’

  ‘I asked him.’ Damon smiled again.

  ‘Right. Old? Young?’

  ‘Just right, I’d say.’ He turned his attention back to his work.

  ‘Oh.’ Lily sauntered back to her desk. Whether Montgomery-Jones turned out to be gay or not, Damon would still lavish his full man-love on him. Which was rather worrying. Damon may have declared he wasn’t ambitious, but now she thought about it, he’d never said he wouldn’t fight to keep his job. So Lily was now at war with Damon. Lovely.

  She carried on through her emails, sorting and deleting as she went. She was on the look out for a meeting invitation with her new boss because she needed to present herself in a good light the way Damon apparently had. She pinged a quick email to Veronica, his personal assistant. The response was suitably short and curt: ‘He’s out all this week, meetings etc. I’ll try to find some time for you next week.’

  The morning dragged on and Lily soon found herself back into work. At least it distracted her from thinking about Will or trying not to daydream about Jackson.

  Damon, who could be both sweet and bitchy at the same time, invited her to lunch. He quizzed her about her holiday. She told him she had learnt to surf – she didn’t tell him who had taught her. She didn’t tell him that Will hadn’t been with her, or that she’d gone with Tess and Gemma. Fortunate
ly Damon, his eyes starting to glaze over, never asked for more detail; maybe she was being a holiday bore.

  Back at her desk she allowed herself the luxury of flicking through the photos on her phone. She smiled to herself when she saw the selfies she’d sent to Will. She glowed inwardly when she looked at the few sneaky shots she’d taken of Jackson. She checked Will’s online status, flicking through the messages, glancing with annoyance at the sunglasses reflection shot. Will was online and he must have noticed that Lily was too.

  Will: Hey babe. Back at work yet?

  Lily: Sadly, yes.

  Will: Cool.

  Then he went offline.

  Cool? What was that supposed to mean?

  Irritated, she dropped her phone into her handbag and got on with her work.

  By the end of the week she felt as though she hadn’t even had a holiday; her tan was fading fast and Jackson was becoming a dim memory. Will still sent the odd photo of himself, but the one he sent on Saturday morning was a shocker: Purple toes poking out from a plaster cast - he’d broken his ankle.

  Lily: OMG. Are you okay? How did that happen? xx

  Will: Bike fell on it. He’d added a sad face emoji.

  Lily frowned. Will never, ever used emojis. He had once launched into a tirade about how stupid they were. Lily wondered if someone else was sending his messages now. She imagined the long-legged half naked lovely ministering to Will’s needs.

  Lily: So sorry. How are you coping? xx

  Will: Can’t ride anymore. Coming home early. On crutches. Can you pick me up from airport? He gave her the details.

  On Monday morning she asked Damon to cover for if she was late on Tuesday; Will’s plane was due in at one in the morning.

  ‘Of course I will,’ Damon beamed at her. ‘But why? Do tell, Lillian.’

  ‘Don’t call me that.’ After she had filled him in, and she’d had to tell him about the USA trip that didn’t include her, he was suitably sympathetic both to Will for his horrible, holiday shortening injury, and to Lily for being left behind and now expected to pick up the pieces.