‘Live in the moment is all bloody good and fine,’ he muttered moments later while locating some fresh grounds from the freezer, where they kept a solitary bottle of Grey Goose vodka company, ‘but it’s not much of a life preserver when it all goes to shit, is it?’ Oh well, his navel gazing could wait. Thanks to his trip with Amy, his imagination was whirring and he had a script to mail off and a travel book to write.
If Amy thought going away for the weekend would bring any form of clarity to her home situation, she was gravely disappointed. In fact, she returned more confused than ever and pitifully thankful for the immediate mundane tasks pressing for her attention.
The minute Ben had dropped her back at home, she drove to Myf’s place to pick up Gerald, only getting the chance to give her friend a quick hug before Myf ran off to teach her weekly community yoga class.
‘Did you miss me, boy?’ Amy asked Gerald as he settled in the passenger seat.
Red-rimmed eyes looked at her disapprovingly.
‘Myf put you on vegan dog biscuits, didn’t she?’ She gave him a conciliatory pat on the head. She could have sworn he nodded. He certainly gave a doggie sigh.
‘I’m pretty sure we can stop off at Costa’s Deli and get you something better.’
She ended up treating Gerald and herself to a round of steak and Sara Lee cheesecake, which they ate while curled up on the couch watching The Maltese Falcon. Amy had contemplated turning off her brain with some trashy reality TV instead, but just couldn’t do it. There was something about Bogart’s cool in a crisis that always left her feeling like nothing was too hard. If he could do it, so could she. She looked at her phone sitting on the coffee table. Jo was only a short call away. Bogart would call Jo and have things out. He wouldn’t let things lie.
‘Maybe after I’ve had another slice of cheesecake,’ she said to both Gerald and the TV.
The next day she woke up from a deep dreamless sleep with a faint headache and an overdramatic sense of impending disaster. The feeling didn’t get any better as she made the short trip to work, narrowly avoiding an accident with a cyclist and being honked by a line of cars when she missed a set of traffic lights going green.
Then an unexpected sight intensified Amy’s sense of foreboding. Standing in front of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and peering through the windows was Jody Greaves. Jody, who only made appointments when Mel and Kate were fighting.
‘No, no, no.’ Amy pulled into the disturbingly empty parking lot behind her salon and wrenched her car door open. Mel, who was supposed to be opening for the morning, hadn’t arrived yet and Amy hoped to hell she’d imagined spotting Jody out front, because there was no way in heaven she wanted the reality.
She ran to the front of the salon as fast as her three-inch black pumps and Gerald’s lagging pace would let her.
Jody greeted her with a wide smile. ‘Hi, Amy.’
‘Fuck,’ Amy whispered, startling all three of them. Jody, Gerald and Amy herself. She never swore. That was her sister’s job. And she never, ever insulted customers, which is what she’d potentially just done. Damn, bugger and blast.
‘You right there, Amy?’ Jody stepped back, her brow wrinkling in concern. She was wearing her usual navy-blue hoodie and baggy jeans and gave the impression of a big hug waiting to happen. Amy needed one if her hunch was right.
She went for a plastic smile, trying to cover up her slip. ‘Jody, m’love, I wasn’t expecting you. Are you just here for a visit?’ She couldn’t keep the plea out of her voice as she scrambled through her purse for her keys. It was two minutes before opening time and the sleep-in that morning meant she was running late. Mel was supposed to be here, dammit.
Jody blinked. ‘Ah, no. I’m here for an appointment.’
The bottom dropped out of Amy’s stomach as her worst suspicion was confirmed. ‘Appointment?’
‘Yeah. With Kate. I made it Saturday.’ Jody’s face transformed with a shy smile.
‘Saturday?’ Amy repeated, unlocking the door. ‘Who did you talk to?’ Remembering her manners, she ushered Jody in first, followed by a long-suffering Gerald.
‘Kate.’ Jody hesitated at the entrance. ‘Look, uh, if this isn’t a good time, I can go.’
‘No!’ Amy drew a deep breath, counted backwards from ten to one in her head and refreshed her smile. ‘No, sweetie. It’s fine. Sorry. It’s me. I’m running late today and am not my best. It’s wonderful to see you.’ She patted Jody’s shoulder. ‘Do you want some coffee? I’m sorry but I don’t have cake for you. I was away this weekend, but we’ve probably still got some giant chocolate-chip bikkies if you want one.’
‘That’d be great.’ Jody took a seat and looked around the salon with open curiosity.
It was no wonder. To Amy’s recollection, this was the first time a customer had ever seen the place without it being in perfect order. She’d only left it for two and a half days, but a lot had obviously happened in that time, none of it cleaning.
Magazines were piled haphazardly, hair dryers and trolleys weren’t stowed where they should be and a coffee cup sat unwashed in front of the station Amy used when she was in the ladies’ side of her business. Even worse, the record player was silent, leaving the place eerily quiet. In short, nothing was right and it rattled her to her bones.
‘Great, a bikkie it is,’ she echoed. ‘Just make yourself comfortable and I’ll be right with you.’ She flashed Jody another smile, then escaped behind the screen at the back of the store.
As expected, there was a note waiting for her by the microwave. True to form, the messy scrawl was blurred in places as if splashed with water or tears. Probably tears.
Amy didn’t need to read the words to know what the note said.
It seemed that Mel and Kate’s newly minted reconciliation had run its course in record time and she was now short staffed. Again.
She’d had enough. This was the fourth time, the last time. Every other time she’d been so nice about things. So pathetically sweet and understanding and look where that got her – let down by someone she cared for, who’d made her a promise, again. Myf had been right; no matter how much she expected people to treat her the way she treated them, sometimes they didn’t and never would. Enough was enough.
Screwing up the paper, she threw it as hard as she could against the wall where it connected with an unsatisfying thak. Self-righteous anger became a bolt of electricity zinging up and down her spine with nothing to earth itself on. Opening her mouth wide, she balled her hands into tight fists and allowed herself a silent five-second scream of frustration before drawing in a deep breath and repeating her count from ten.
‘Black or white coffee this morning, m’love?’ she called to Jody in a perfectly calm tone.
‘Black, please,’ Jody replied from the other side of the screen. ‘What’s your dog called?’
‘Gerald.’
‘He new?’
‘Yeah, I got him as a guard dog.’ She managed to keep up the small talk through gritted teeth as she went through the ritual of grinding fresh coffee beans and setting up the machine.
When she could finally trust herself to keep smiling for Jody’s benefit, she made up a tray with coffee and two biscuits and purposefully strode to the front of the store, stopping briefly on the way to start up the record player. There was a record ready to go, and within a few seconds, ‘Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps’ by Doris Day filled the room, suiting her mood perfectly. If she could just hold it together, perhaps she would get through this week without committing murder, and perhaps she’d work up to firing a staff member and perhaps she’d finally have some peace. This was the last time, absolutely the last time.
‘Are you sure I’m not too early?’ Jody asked as she accepted the coffee.
‘No, love. Of course not.’ She softened her tone. It wasn’t Jody’s fault her presence indicated Amy’s business had taken a wrong turn down a dark alley in the middle of the night. She ran her hand gently over Jody’s short-cropped hair with a professional eye. It had grow
n half an inch since she’d last come. That half-inch represented a small oasis of calm, now unfortunately over. ‘What can I do for you this morning?’
To her surprise, Jody blushed. ‘I was wondering if you could colour it red.’
‘Red?’ Amy took in Jody’s broad, florid features, her own worries momentarily forgotten. ‘Are you sure? The blonde streaks look really nice. They make you look sexy,’ she said with all honesty. Blonde suited Jody’s short hairstyle and fair colouring beautifully.
‘Well, uh . . .’ Jody shyly looked down at her coffee. ‘When I talked to Kate on Friday night she said I needed a change, so I called and made the appointment first thing Saturday.’
‘Oh?’ Amy asked, a sharp edge entering her tone, her lips thinning.
‘Yeah.’
Amy drew a deep breath and placed her hands on Jody’s shoulders. ‘Do you want to go red, sweetie? I mean, seriously, the blonde is lovely.’
‘I’m sure,’ Jody said earnestly. ‘Kate said—’
Her words were interrupted by the door of the salon opening as Kate breezed in, platinum hair whipping around a sleek black shift dress. Kate spared a venomous glare for Gerald, who had formed his dozing loaf shape by the window, before directing a wary glance at Amy.
‘Hi Kate,’ Jody called out, her shoulders tensing beneath Amy’s hands.
‘You get the note?’ Kate asked Amy, ignoring Jody’s presence entirely.
Amy nodded shortly, turning back to study Jody’s hair in the mirror again.
‘And?’
‘Later.’
‘But—’
‘I think Jody looks gorgeous with the blonde streaks, Kate. Was there any reason you suggested red?’
Kate strode to the back of the salon to store her handbag before reappearing, her stilettos clicking over the floor as she tied her apron. ‘The streaks are boring.’
‘Boring?’ Amy asked tightly.
‘Well, yeah.’ Kate shrugged defensively.
‘I don’t think they’re boring. Are you really, really sure you want to change your colour, sweetie?’ Amy turned back to Jody.
Jody gave Kate a look of pure adoration. ‘Definitely.’
Amy scrunched down the urge to have a good yell, knowing full well the only reason Kate had suggested the change was because she was manipulating Jody to prop up her own ego. Not for the first time did Amy think her employee should come with a warning label.
‘Alright,’ she said reluctantly. ‘Kate, I know you’d love to take care of Jody, so I won’t get in the way.’ She shot Jody a soft smile and patted her back. ‘It was marvellous to see you, sweetie, but I have to go next door for my first appointment. We’ll catch up soon, alright?’
‘Yeah, sure, Amy,’ Jody replied happily.
Amy didn’t even bother to wait for Kate’s response. Instead, she purposefully strode into the barbershop and made a call to post an advertisement in the West Australian’s employment pages while outrage still zinged through her system.
She was so caught up brooding, she almost didn’t hear the knock on the barbershop door moments later.
She peered out and saw Keith, a fireman from the local station, waiting with a grin, pointing at the locked door. He was one of her regulars and only ever came in for a haircut when his wife threatened to divorce him or his superiors threatened to fire him. Castigating herself all over again for not having things together, Amy forced yet another smile and began her day in earnest.
It turned out to be a truly hectic day that didn’t stop until a quarter to six that evening. Finally waving off the last of her customers, Amy limped into Gentlemen Prefer Blondes expecting to find it empty after Roslynn had ducked her head into the barbershop fifteen minutes prior to say goodbye. Instead, she found Kate sitting in one of the salon chairs, reading a magazine.
‘Can we talk?’ Kate asked as Amy walked past her with a tray full of dishes, setting it down next to the small sink at the rear of the shop.
Amy paused, mentally braced herself, then turned to face her employee.
For the first time in her recollection, Kate looked vulnerable. Her mascara was smudged, her lipstick faded and she had dark shadows under her eyes.
Amy squashed the feeling of sympathy that immediately came to the fore. She was a lady who well and truly understood the importance of outward appearances and in any other circumstance would have gently hinted that Kate’s façade was a little cracked, but this wasn’t one of those days.
‘Yeah. We do need to talk.’ She turned back to the sink and began running hot water. ‘Or more to the point, I need to talk to you. Could you clarify something for me, Kate?’
‘Yeah. What?’
‘Why does Mel always leave every time you two fight? Why not you?’ She didn’t bother looking up when Kate didn’t immediately reply. She was done with worrying about how her words affected other people in this particular instance.
‘Why d’you ask?’ Kate’s voice had an edge to it. It was the same edge she always got at the first hint of criticism, no matter how gentle.
Kate’s over-defensiveness had always grated on Amy but this time, for the first time, she felt the need to react. No more being nice and making excuses for someone else’s crappy behaviour. She’d had enough. One look at Jody’s hopeful, infatuated expression this morning, the expression of a good lady, a kind lady, wanting a bit of love in return and being strung along, had been the final straw.
‘Because your job depends on it,’ she said calmly.
‘What?’ Kate exclaimed. ‘What do you mean my job depends on it? I wasn’t the one who quit. Mel quit! Not me!’
‘And apparently Jody needed a different hair colour too, even though it looked horrible when you finished.’ Amy submerged her hands in soapy water, rubbing a plate so hard she was vaguely worried it would break.
‘What’s that got to do with it?’
She finally turned around. ‘Everything.’
As expected, Kate didn’t appear the least bit repentant. In fact, she was looking at Amy as if she’d grown a second head, a pair of horns and a tail. ‘In all the time you’ve worked here, have you ever seen me, or Mel for that matter, let a customer walk out of here looking like Jody did today?’
Kate looked baffled. ‘I’m not following you.’
Amy sighed. ‘I know you’re not, because you don’t get it. I hope Jody gets it though. I hope she’s got a good friend who’ll tell her she looked better before and I really hope she’ll trust me enough to come back and let me change her hair back when I call her and tell her she’s won a free cut and colour next week.’
Kate just stared at her.
It was no use. Amy took her hands out of the water and dried them on her apron. ‘Kate, you’re a brilliant, talented hair stylist, God knows how I’m going to replace you, but this can’t go on. I can’t deal with your need for drama and I have a feeling your friends won’t be able to for much longer, either. I’m letting you go.’
She watched Kate absorb her words. It was like witnessing someone being punched in the stomach in slow motion.
‘What?’
Amy desperately wanted to turn back to doing the dishes so she didn’t have to face Kate’s upset, but didn’t. Although she was really angry, furious even, with both Kate and with herself for not fixing things sooner, she didn’t want to trivialise what was happening.
‘I’ll pay you out for the rest of the month,’ Amy said, her voice soft. ‘But I think it would be better if you took the time off. I think you should know I’ll be calling Mel tonight and offering her her job back.’
‘Mel?’ Kate shrieked. ‘She quit!’
‘Because you didn’t give her the choice, did you? What was she going to do? Come back in here this morning to watch you putting on a performance with Jody? That’s why you lined Jody up to come in today, wasn’t it? Just in case Mel wanted to keep her job.’ Amy knew she was right when Kate opened her mouth to say something and shut it again with a snap.
She squashed down the urge to say more, to rail at Kate for manipulating someone who deeply cared for her into repeatedly quitting her job, making sacrifices for her and looking foolish, just as Kate had left Jody looking foolish today.
Kate would have to learn that you could only push people so far before they pushed back and right now, as hard as it was, Amy was the person who had to do it.
She braced her shoulders and waited for Kate to say something, to begin the inevitable tantrum that usually accompanied a challenge to her status quo. It wasn’t long coming and it was just as ballistic as Amy had been dreading.
‘You fucking bitch!’ Kate began a long tirade against Amy’s faults, her failure as an employer, her taste in décor, clothes, friends. She even stooped so low as to rant about Gerald, who chose that moment to finally recognise his name, woofing quietly when it was yelled at full volume accompanied by a tirade of unrepeatable insults. The more Kate yelled, ranted and raved, the calmer Amy grew.
For years – forever – she’d done anything she could to divert or avoid angry confrontations completely, but she refused to back down now. She owed it to Jody, she owed it to Mel and she owed it to herself. She should have done this years ago.
She skirted around her hysterical ex-employee, picked up a broom and began sweeping the salon in long purposeful strokes until Kate finally found the sense to calm down, collect her things and storm out. Amy didn’t bother asking for her key just now. She’d sort all that out later.
The minute Kate left, Amy set aside the broom, sank down on the floor next to Gerald and gave him a pat. When her composure was restored, she retrieved her phone to hire herself back a brilliant hairstylist. She had a gut feeling that if she convinced Mel to come back, this time she’d be here to stay.
Ben was living in a blur of grey as ideas and inspiration sleeted by him in the form of tiny black words, thousands of them, all surrounded by a haze of white noise. The first night after his return from his weekend with Amy, he’d woken up with the opening line of his new travel book and hadn’t moved from his computer other than to order take-out, drink, shower and answer the call of nature for days, maybe weeks.
The Barbershop Girl Page 21
