by Carol Thomas
“Right, what shall we attack first: the fact that summer is approaching and you have the winter wardrobe of a fifty-year-old librarian, or those bloody mandals you insist on wearing?” Melissa thrust out her hand, pointing at Abby’s sandals.
Abby lifted her bag to her chest. “Miiiiiaaaaa-ow! Don’t hold back on my account Melissa, say it like it is!” she laughed. Abby knew Melissa was teasing but she also knew there was an element of truth in her analysis of her clothes; there was no point in arguing. Feigning insult she continued, “Anyway, I’ll have you know these are women’s sandals and they’re really comfy, great for walking!” Abby waggled her foot in Melissa’s direction, showing off her lightweight, chunky Velcro-strapped sandals.
“Abby. Honestly, unless I’m mistaken you are not about to go hill-walking in the Hebrides!”
They both laughed.
“OK. Let’s start in Next; your order must be lost in the post!” Melissa gave Abby a wink and a knowing grin.
Abby appreciated the safe option to start. She knew Melissa was easing her in, treating her like her own little special needs clothes project and building her confidence before pushing her further. She also knew Melissa had contrived reasons for their day out, and despite her own fears about the day she was grateful for it.
As they set off in the direction of Next Abby’s phone buzzed. She reached for it and discovered two messages from Simon:
Lunch would taste better if you were here. I love you Mrs Turner! x
You are all I can think about. I miss seeing you; I miss holding you close. I want you, and I want you back Abby! x
Her breath caught, heat rose in her cheeks and she hurriedly slipped her phone back in her bag as Melissa raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“It’s nothing, just my Mum,” Abby stated, unsure why she felt the need to lie. She missed Simon; she especially missed this side of him. When he was away working they would often send each other flirty texts. They were good at it; Abby knew just how to answer to get him wanting more. She thought of at least two different responses she could give that made her heart rate rise a little. But this was wrong! She wouldn’t answer; slipping too easily into old habits wouldn’t help her. She decided to ignore it. Her phone buzzed again; she bit her lip and clenched her hands at her sides, forcing herself not to automatically check the screen. But she needn’t have worried: her mind soon took over and the simple thought – did he send messages like this to her? – swept over her warm body with the chill of a cold shower! Fuelled by frustration and anger she decided to throw herself into the whole shopping experience and determined not to look at her phone again.
Clothes shopping really wasn’t as hideous as she had imagined. Once she got over the embarrassment of revealing her size and realised that Melissa had obviously missed her calling as a personal shopper she actually started to enjoy it. Melissa readily selected, evaluated and reselected outfits for her – it was all rather effortless on Abby’s part. She was being pampered and weirdly, she liked it. She hadn’t realised how tired she had become of being scruffy and dressing in whatever she had time to grab for herself while at the supermarket. She had forgotten how good she could look. Melissa chose clothes and colours Abby would never have chosen for herself. She liked trying on the range of styles, dresses, skirts and shirts Melissa chose and seeing herself looking so very different. As her dad would have said, she scrubbed up well! She was fascinated by how even just a change of clothes could make her feel different – more confident, more in control. It was all superficial, she knew, but even superficial confidence was better than none!
Feeling a little bolder Abby approached shoe shopping with greater enthusiasm than she otherwise might have. She looked at the range of styles on display and wondered what she should be going for. Her shoe collection consisted of a pair of well-loved trainers, a pair of black loafers for work (which Kennedy loved to tease her about), her practical but apparently unstylish sandals and a pair of bunny slippers the girls had got her at Christmas. She had never really felt the need to purchase shoes without a purpose; on the rare occasion she went out in the evening she generally wore black trousers and polished up her loafers – Imelda Marcos she was not!
Abby wandered along the aisles of the shop, her eyes searching the laden shelves, unsure if she had ever seen so many shoes in her whole life before. Noticing a pair of red glitter courts in her size, with a slim three-inch heel, Abby grinned, slipped one on and called to Melissa.
Snapping out of the shoe-inspired trance she appeared to be in, Melissa spun around. “Wow! They’re stunning, would you have much opportunity to wear them?”
Never! But as Abby looked at her foot in the little mirror on the floor she felt hypnotised by the sparkles and how positively girly she looked.
“I love the style but you need to go with something you will actually wear and can walk in,” Melissa continued.
Abby smirked. Prior to her combat boot-loving student days she had in fact often worn stiletto-heeled shoes. She wore them every day to secondary school – in those days she liked to copy her older sister’s style and enjoyed the fact that the grumpy old caretaker cursed whenever she wore them into the school hall.
“I might just surprise you!” Abby laughed as she slipped the shoe off and headed towards a display of more understated wedge-heeled shoes. There she found some black crossover sandals and a pair of black patent courts, with a slim ankle strap. They were classier than anything else she owned, and she liked how they felt and the increased height they gave. It was another boost to her newly found faux-confidence.
With their time at the shops almost over Abby held her shopping bags proudly, excited by their contents: her new shoes which increased her existing collection by fifty per cent; two skirts, a dress, new jeans, a tailored jacket and three tops, all sporting labels to shops she’d never even considered entering before and, depending on the cut of the shop, all in one or two sizes smaller than the too-baggy-clothes she was wearing. Proud of the achievement, she made a mental note to surprise Kennedy and give her a ring later to tell her she had actually been clothes shopping; she knew she wouldn’t believe it!
“Hmm, now have we got time to fit in underwear shopping?” Melissa looked ponderously between her watch and the lingerie shop in front of them.
Abby looked at the mannequin in the window. The featureless woman was dressed in a deep purple lacy babydoll with chiffon bra and satin straps, and through the sheer material Abby could see a matching suspender belt and stockings. In that moment an image of Simon and a woman dressed like that flashed into her head; they were kissing, hands all over each other. The woman’s face was shielded by her proximity to Simon and her loose wild hair. Abby choked back the urge to be sick as bile rose in her throat. She ran to the curb and held onto a nearby lamppost to steady herself. Melissa followed.
Abby caught her breath and swallowed the moisture rising in her mouth. “I can’t! Not today!”
Melissa must have recognised the determination in Abby’s voice, as she didn’t question her. “Hey, it’s OK,” she said, stroking Abby’s back. “How about we do lunch instead?”
Abby didn’t feel hungry but welcomed the opportunity to move away from the shop and regain her senses.
As they entered the already busy restaurant Abby’s phone rang. She didn’t want to speak to Simon, but she also didn’t want everybody staring at her as it rang on. She picked it up and decided to turn it off. As she did she noticed Bradley Hunter’s name illuminated on the screen and quickly answered it.
“Hey Abby, it’s Brad.”
Despite the fact that he’d simply confirmed what she already knew, part of her was surprised to hear his voice. “Hi Brad, you OK?”
Melissa’s eyebrows rose and she stared at Abby as the waitress led them to their table.
“I was just wondering if you needed any help with packing; you know, about what to pack… I’m pretty sure you can pack a case.” He laughed. “For the weekend away – the residential I
mean. I wasn’t suggesting I was going to whisk you away for a… Oh God! I didn’t mean that. Not that I wouldn’t love to but um… hey, don’t laugh at me! I’m trying to be nice but it’s all gone a bit wrong. Anyway, let me know if you need any help with packing or anything. You seemed nervous about it and I’m trying to help.”
Abby fought back a chuckle, having never heard Brad in such a muddle.
“Thanks Brad, that’s good of you but I have the kit list you gave out. I’ll be all set, don’t worry.”
The phone went momentarily silent before he replied, “Sure… OK. Well, you know where I am then.”
“Sure, thanks. Bye.” Abby ended the call and turned her phone off.
Having heard the entire conversation, Melissa inhaled and blew her breath out slowly, a teasing glint in her eye. “Well, what have you done to be offered personal help from our PE co-ordinator? I am going on the residential too and yet all I got was a piece of paper with what to bring!”
Abby flustered around, tucking her phone back into her bag. “Oh, he’s just being friendly. I told him I was nervous about the activities. He’s frightened I am going to bail and he’ll be searching for another member of staff at short notice, that’s all!” she explained, accepting it as an entirely plausible reason for the call in her own head.
“Uh-ha!” Melissa paused, but as Abby didn’t fill the silence she grabbed the menu and continued. “Ooh look at the time, we better just get something light; maybe a starter, we don’t have time for a proper lunch before the salon.”
Abby groaned at the thought of skipping lunch, her appetite having surprisingly returned.
11
The Prrrrimp Your Hide Salon was not at all the type of place Abby expected Melissa to seek beauty treatments. It was extremely pink and had a pink-bowed fluffy white kitten (Abby was convinced was Marie from The Aristocats) as its logo. If she didn’t know better Abby would have thought it was a pet-pampering parlour. Nerves getting the better of her, she blurted, “Wow! I bet they can do all sorts with your pussy!” Cringing and not quite believing that had just come out her mouth, she grinned widely at Melissa, who also seemed to be attempting to take in the very pink sight.
Guiltily, she looked at Abby. “OK, so I should’ve confessed that this is my cousin’s salon. It’s a new venture and I said I would pop along sometime.” Lowering her voice, she added, “It’s not really my first choice.”
Abby stifled a giggle at Melissa’s obvious embarrassment. She knew families could be extremely diverse and thought it was sweet that Melissa was willing to let her beauty salon benchmark drop to support her cousin.
As they walked in a woman with almost luminous blonde hair greeted them. Her broad, glowing smile made Abby wonder if she had used the same bleach on both her hair and teeth. She had long legs, a perfect figure and large breasts that, under the circumstances, Abby was surprised actually looked real. She wore a black mini skirt highlighting her long, toned legs and a pink salon jacket with Prrrr flamboyantly embroidered across the pocket. Her pink lipstick matched her jacket and contrasted with her copper-tanned skin. Stretching out a hand she welcomed them, introducing herself as Mindy. Melissa stepped forward, shook Mindy’s smooth hand and stated that she was Lucy’s cousin. Excited by this revelation, Mindy bounced off to get her boss.
People actually do this for pleasure all the time – so it can’t be that bad! Abby reminded herself repeatedly. As she looked at the three doors leading off the reception her mind began to wander and she lost the rhythm of her mantra. Hmmm, so what tortures lie behind there? What if it’s a cloning room? Melissa and I are not going to leave here until we look like Barbie and whatshername. What was that other doll’s name? The first of the doors opening drew Abby’s mind back to reality and she shouted out the name “Sindy” before she could stop herself. Melissa jumped and turned to look at her, perplexed. Abby bit her lip to hold back the rambling explanation she wanted to give, as from behind a slightly puzzled-looking Mindy, her much shorter and more rounded boss stepped forward.
“So you have met M I N D Y!” she stressed, nodding at Abby, clearly believing her name blurting was in reference to her assistant. “I’m Lucy.” She grinned, greeting Abby and embracing Melissa.
Abby rolled her eyes, aware that yet again she had made a great first impression.
While Mindy returned to her desk, the two relatives chatted. Dressed entirely in black with pink accessories and a pink trim to her salon coat, Lucy seemed to grow in stature as she presented her mini-empire to Melissa and proffered the list of treatments available to them. Seeing Abby’s unsure expression Melissa stepped in and selected a manicure and pedicure as safe options for them. It wasn’t that Abby never took care of herself, it was just that she had never felt the need to let anybody else loose on her when it came to personal grooming; she was quite happy with her own simple routines and had no idea where to start when it came to salon treatments.
Abby looked at the picture of fish nibbling at somebody’s feet displayed on the wall. “When you say pedicure, you don’t actually mean…?” Her words trailed off as she looked wide-eyed at Melissa, nodding her head towards the poster.
Melissa glanced up and giggled. “Don’t worry, no fish involved. I promise.”
“Phew!”
“Oh, but are you sure you don’t want your legs waxed though?” Melissa teased. “You never know who might be looking at you in your shorts, you know… when you’re climbing, abseiling…”
Holding her expression, Abby didn’t take the bait and simply stated, “A manicure and pedicure will be fine, thank you”; words she had never imagined coming out of her own mouth!
“Fab, that’s decided then,” Lucy interjected, “and how about we throw in an eyebrow wax – on the house? We’ve a girl in on training this week. She’s lacking volunteers,” she added, pleased with her own generosity.
“Well, we’ll see how time goes,” Melissa stated, attempting to sound supportive but really not wanting to let a student loose on her pre-wedding eyebrows. Abby decided that she most certainly did not have time for that, no matter how long the other treatments took.
With the arrangements made and a promise to look in on them shortly, Lucy took their shopping bags to stow away in her office and left them in “Mindy’s capable hands”. Abby felt a little reluctant leaving her newly acquired stash of clothes but followed obediently as Mindy led them through the second of the doors leading off the reception. Entering a small but flamboyantly decorated room Abby wiped her hands on her jeans and wished they felt less clammy; going for a manicure with sweaty hands felt a bit like going to the dentist after a candyfloss – it was just wrong!
As they walked in Abby had expected to smell nail varnish and chemicals, but instead she was hit with the distinct smell of Parma Violets, a smell she hadn’t experienced for years. She’d never really liked the sweets but her mouth watered; she welcomed the sensation across her dry tongue and wet her lips. Ah, still a chubby child at heart, she thought, allowing the smell of sweets to ease her nerves.
Taking in the room, Abby’s attention was drawn to two white, swooping desks, each with a pink towel draped over them. Hiding whatever tortures lie beneath, she thought. In front of the desks were two chairs that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a 1980s Athena poster. They were white and actually shaped like hands; the palms forming the seat and the fingers – complete with painted pink nails – stretching up to form the back. They dominated the room. The facing wall was bright pink and contrasted with the white tiled floor. Behind where they stood was a wall entirely covered in a collage of black-and-white shots of manicured hands, perfectly pedicured feet and other equally prrrrimped and elegantly presented body parts. It was dramatic and a bit daring in places, much more grown-up than the pussycat exterior of the salon. Abby liked it; it felt almost voyeuristic to look at it. She forced out the thought – I wonder if she… – before it took root.
Once Melissa had been made comfortable Mindy guided A
bby to the second of the large chairs. The seat felt almost flexible, moulding round her as she sat; it offered a perfectly comfortable upright position.
“I’ll be working with Melissa and you’ll have Tanya,” Mindy explained.
As if on cue the door behind them opened and a young girl walked in, wearing the same Prrrrimp Your Hide uniform as Mindy but looking somewhat less polished. Hmmm, so this could be the student. Tanya gave a warm smile and took her place opposite Abby.
About to proceed, Tanya spun from her stall and headed for the stereo. “Hold on! Let’s pop on something classical, it’ll help you ladies relax,” she exclaimed.
As the music drifted into the room Abby observed that Tanya’s take on classical music actually meant classic movie themes; with the theme to Harry Potter dancing around them Tanya returned to her seat and positioned an anglepoise lamp above Abby’s hand with a flourish. Then in the style of a trained double act, both she and Mindy lifted the pink towels from their desks, revealing a buffet of beauty products. For somebody who didn’t even own a nail file, it was all rather fantastical. Abby’s eyes goggled.
“Right then, let’s get started.” Tanya took hold of Abby’s hand. When the first hit of the cleansing alcohol spray landed she had to stifle a nervous giggle. Just as she relaxed and decided it was actually quite a refreshing sensation, it began to seep in. At that point Abby wished she had listened to Kennedy and used a hand cream day and night as her big sister, who always knew best, advised.
Setting about Abby’s nails with a file, Tanya paused and tutted. “You know, your nails…” she hesitated as if pondering the delivery of a momentous verdict before continuing, “are not in great condition!” She tutted again, this time adding a sombre shake of the head. “It’s important to eat a good diet you know. Have your five a day!” she stressed.
Feeling thoroughly reprimanded and somewhat embarrassed, Abby felt the need to justify her neglected nails. “I am now. Honestly. I had a spell of not taking care of myself, of not caring enough, but that’s changing. Honestly. Fruit and veg and multivitamins are top of my shopping list,” she overstated, ignoring a vision of chocolate digestives being the number one item on her shopping list at home.
