Camilla tutted but Jenny smiled.
“It does hurt like hell but it’ll be worth it.”
“Will it?” Allie blinked hard to clear the tears. She couldn’t believe what Jenny and Camilla had done to her. And although Camilla hadn’t actually done anything physically to hurt her, she’d been there every step of the way, encouraging Jenny to do whatever it takes and to ignore Allie’s pleas, she’ll be grateful afterwards.
Allie allowed Jenny to direct her from the bed where she’d lain as Jenny stripped her body of hair – except for her bikini line, she’d drawn the line at that. Now she was pushed down the stairs and onto a kitchen chair in the extension, as Jenny wrapped her in a black cape. Allie took a deep breath as Jenny raised her scissors; this was a good thing, but it made her nervous handing over so much power.
Over the next fifteen minutes, she watched as brassy locks fell away to the regular snip snip of Jenny’s sharp scissors, then gratefully accepted a coffee from Camilla while Jenny mixed up a foul smelling paste in a small black bowl.
“This will get rid of that brassy tone. It will be a bit lighter at first but I can always add in some foils in a week or two if you want some warmer tones.”
Allie nodded then Jenny spread the paste onto her hair and scalp, impressed at how efficiently she worked. Jenny’s hair fell to her waist in several different shades of grey. The colour would have made Allie look ten years older but on the twenty-seven-year-old Jenny, it was trendy and chic. Allie wondered if it was real and if so, how much belonged to another woman, or man, who’d had it cut away to make some money. She’d recently read a magazine article about how there was money to be made in growing your hair then selling it. Allie wouldn’t fancy having someone else’s hair woven into her own; she didn’t even like touching her own hair once it had been cut, but she could understand how others wouldn’t mind. Especially if it made them look as glamorous as Jenny.
“Okay. We need to leave that for a bit, so you can relax. Oooh!” Jenny stepped back and frowned.
Allie watched her carefully; panic flooding her belly like a freezing cold drink.
“Oh dear.” Camilla grimaced.
“Some ice will help. Probably just a bit of a reaction to the wax. Don’t worry!” Jenny went to the freezer, located the ice cube tray then pressed a few cubes onto a piece of kitchen roll. “Here, hold this above your top lip.”
“What’s happened?” Allie asked, trying not to breathe too deeply as the smell of the bleach on her hair was making her throat ache.
“Just a bit of swelling.” Camilla waved a hand. “It’ll go down.”
“How much swelling?” Allie asked, pushing to her feet.
Camilla stared at her feet, so Allie went into the downstairs cloakroom that led off the kitchen.
“Argh!” She stared at her reflection. Her hair was pasted to her head making her look like she was wearing a bald cap and the area above her top lip – which used to be quite flat – was now bulging like a magenta moustache. “I can’t go anywhere like this!”
“Don’t worry. You have an hour or so yet,” Jenny called from the kitchen. “It’s perfectly normal.”
“Normal?” Allie asked. “I look like I’ve done that stupid lip-enhancing challenge that Jordan got involved in a few years ago.”
Camilla appeared in the doorway.
“Oh, yeah. I remember that. His lip was swollen for about two weeks, wasn’t it?”
Allie nodded.
“He was in agony. I worried he’d end up with permanent nerve damage. And all to show off to his mates from college when one of them dared him to try for a trout pout.”
“In all fairness, Allie, he’d had a few drinks.”
“He’d have regretted it if the results had been permanent. Thankfully, it went down.”
She prodded her own face tender face and winced.
“Get the ice on it and give it time to work.”
“I’m not going if it doesn’t.”
“You can always wear a scarf.” Camilla suggested.
“What all night?” Allie had images of speaking to Chris from behind her silk scarf printed with tiny cupcakes. “How will I eat and drink?”
“You’ll manage.” Camilla flashed her a guilty smile.
“If this doesn’t go down, I will hold you personally responsible.”
Camilla grabbed her hand. “Come and have a glass of wine and you’ll feel better about it.”
“I doubt that but it certainly can’t get any worse.”
An hour later, Allie was ready. Well, almost. She stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom and surveyed her makeover.
“In all fairness, Jenny, you have worked miracles.”
Jenny sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her endless legs. “A job well done, I believe.”
“You’re gorgeous. Chris’ll be all over you.”
Allie scowled at her friend.
“Camilla, I do not want him to be all over me. Besides, although the swelling has gone down now, my lip is still very sore.”
Allie turned back to the mirror. Her skinny black jeans went well with the sheer grey thigh-length blouse Mandy had bought her for Christmas. Allie had never worn it; not wanting to ruin it after seeing the price tag her daughter had accidentally-on-purpose left attached. But tonight, seemed like a good time to give the blouse an airing. Underneath, she wore the matching grey camisole that clung to her curves and reached just below the hem of the blouse. The layering seemed to help disguise some of her lumps and bumps. She had teamed her outfit with a pair of silver-grey pumps.
Jenny had done her makeup as natural looking as possible, except for smoky eyes that really brought out their blue, and her hair was now a shiny golden mane. When Jenny was cutting it, Allie had thought she was taking lots off, but in reality, she’d merely trimmed the ends and given it some layers. The colour made it appear gently sun kissed and made her think of beaches with palm trees and soft white sand.
“Thank you so much, Jenny.”
“My pleasure, Allie. Don’t leave it so long next time though. You’re an attractive woman and you should pamper yourself.”
Camilla let Jenny out then returned to the bedroom, where Allie had now slumped onto the edge of the bed.
“Hey what is it?”
Allie shook her head, unable to speak as Camilla wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Tell me.”
“It’s just… you doing that for me. It’s so kind.”
“You’re one of my best friends. Of course I’d do that for you. I’d do anything for you.”
“Thank you.” Allie smiled as Camilla squeezed her. “You know, some days I can’t believe this is me. That this is my life.”
“Why, sweetie?”
Allie met Camilla’s bright green eyes.
“Well, I was married with two children. I thought I knew where my life was heading until six years ago.”
“Things can change very quickly. None of us know what will happen in an hour let alone in six years.”
“I know. Losing Roger so suddenly was such a shock.”
“Of course it was.”
“I thought he’d always be around.”
Camilla nodded. “You were together a long time. And now, here’s Chris, back on the scene. But from what you told us the other day, he could have been in Roger’s place.”
“Perhaps. But it never got that far between us. I mean, a few kisses hardly qualify as a promise of eternal commitment do they?” Allie had told her friends about the way she’d been close to Roger and Chris growing up, and that at one point, it had seemed like she was closer to Chris. But in the end, life had taken an unexpected turn, and she’d ended up as Mrs Jones, not Mrs Monroe. Then Roger’s quirks had become exaggerated as he’d grown older and more disappointed with life and other people, and things that had initially drawn Allie to him were no longer so endearing.
“Maybe it meant more to him than you know.” Camilla stood up and
took Allie’s hands then pulled her up.
“Maybe. But I don’t think so.”
“Well now you have the chance to find out, right?”
Allie gave a brief smile then opened her wardrobe to locate her small black handbag.
“I guess I do.”
But after everything that had happened, she couldn’t help wondering if she even wanted to know, and if it would be too painful raking up the past.
4
Allie gave Camilla a quick hug then opened the car door. She could have walked the five minutes to the pub but Camilla had been worried the breeze would mess up Allie’s hair and insisted on driving her.
“Have fun, won’t you?” Camilla leaned over and squeezed Allie’s hand.
“I hope so. I’m really nervous now.”
“Don’t be. There’s nothing to worry about. But be careful.”
“Careful? I’ve known this man most of my life. He’s hardly got serial killer potential.”
Camilla laughed. “I didn't mean that kind of careful but you never know someone inside out. So just take care.”
“I will.”
“Oh!” Camilla rummaged in her pocket. “Before you go, I have something for you.”
“You do?” Allie frowned.
“This…” Camilla held out a small square foil packet.
“What’s that?”
“Oh come on, Allie, don’t tell me you’ve never seen one before.”
“A condom?” Allie’s cheeks burned. “I don’t need that. I won’t be getting up to anything that requires protection tonight.”
“Humour me. If you don’t take it and the moment arises, you’ll be disappointed you didn’t. Especially if he’s not carrying any.”
Allie stared at the offending square of foil and thought about what it meant if she accepted it. But what if she didn’t and Camilla was right? She shook her head. There was no way she was sleeping with Chris, gorgeous as he might be. She hadn’t slept with a man since Roger – or before for that matter – and couldn’t quite imagine that kind of intimacy after so long. Yes, people on movies said it was like riding a bike and that you never forgot, but perhaps you did. Perhaps, for this woman on the brink of middle age, sex was a thing of the past.
“Hey Mum.”
“Shit, it’s Jordan!”
Camilla snorted then threw the condom at Allie. It landed on her lap just as he stuck his head around the car door, so she quickly stuffed it into her bag.
“Hi, love. Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just popping home for a shower then I’m off to see Max.”
“Oh right?” Allie willed the heat to recede from her cheeks but she was worried that he’d seen the condom. “What’re you two going to be doing this evening then?” She’d been so flustered earlier with worrying about meeting up with Chris, that she couldn’t remember if Jordan had already told her. During her makeover, he’d been out on his bike, and he hadn’t returned before she left.
“Oh, we, um… we’re going to be gaming.” Was it her imagination or had Jordan’s cheeks darkened? But perhaps she was projecting her own discomfort onto her son.
Pull yourself together…
Jordan pushed his hair back from his sweaty forehead and frowned.
“You look really nice, Mum.”
“Do I?” Allie sank into her seat.
“Why are you all dressed up?”
“We’re off to the pub.” Camilla nodded. “Girls’ night out.”
“Right. Well have fun. I’ll see you later.” Jordan tapped the car roof then cycled away.
“Camilla.” Allie grimaced. “He could have seen that.”
“I take it you didn’t tell him about your date then?”
“It’s not a date—”
Camilla held up a hand. “Whatever. But if it’s not, why didn't you tell him you were meeting Chris?”
“I just don’t want to worry him. He’s been through a lot, you know?”
“We all lose loved ones, Allie. I know Jordan lost his dad but he is all grown up now. You can’t protect him from everything forever and surely it’s better to be honest. This is hardly a big village and he’ll soon hear about your da… evening out with Chris from someone.”
“I’ll tell him later. That I met up with Chris for a meal just to catch up on old times.”
“Probably best to be honest with him.”
“Right, I’m off.”
“Text me later. Unless you’re… you know, busy. And if that happens, don’t video call me whatever you do.” Camilla giggled and Allie shut the car door with a bit more force than was necessary.
Then she hooked her bag over her shoulder, crossed the road and entered the small garden of The Red Fox. Her heart was pounding, her palms were clammy and her stomach was full of butterflies.
But in spite of all this, she was also a teeny bit excited.
When Allie entered the pub, the aroma of beer and chips greeted her and her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t felt hungry all day, but she now realised she needed to eat something.
She scanned the room and spotted Chris at a table in the corner. He raised his pint in greeting.
Damn he looks good.
She tried to push the thought away but it lingered as she took in his salt-and-pepper hair and freshly shaven face. As she approached him, the warmth in his dark eyes made her skin tingle, and when she leaned in to kiss his cheek, her legs weakened at his delicious spicy scent.
“Allie, you look beautiful.”
“Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”
He smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled adorably. The plain black jumper he wore with grey jeans and black boots suggested self-confidence; he didn’t feel the need to overdress. She wondered if he’d fretted about what to wear this evening then squashed the idea. Of course he hadn’t, he probably hadn’t given it any thought at all.
“Well thank you. You know,” he said as he pulled out a chair for her, “I was actually quite nervous. I had no idea what to put on. I didn’t want to look like I hadn’t tried yet I didn’t want to look like I’d tried too hard.”
Allie coughed. Her mouth and throat had dried up. “No way!”
“Yes, way.”
She coughed again. Damn her throat was dry.
“Let me get you a drink. I didn’t order you one because I wasn’t sure what you like these days.”
“Pinot Grigio, please.”
She hung her bag on the back of her chair and looked around. There were a few regulars and a few unfamiliar faces but The Red Fox offered a delicious menu and cosy atmosphere, so she wasn’t surprised to see people she didn’t know. Chris had chosen a good table; fairly private and far enough from the bar to avoid being jostled by people carrying trays of drinks.
He returned with a large glass of white and handed it to Allie.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
She took a sip of the wine, enjoying the delicate peach fragrance and crisp finish, then placed the glass on the table. She noticed that Chris hadn’t bought himself another drink but he still had half a pint left. So he was taking his time, as she intended doing. She’d prefer to stay relatively sober and in control because she didn’t know how she’d react to being with him again if alcohol lowered her emotional defences. Although being around him made a defiant part of her feel as if she wouldn’t mind losing control, just for once.
“Shall we check the menu?” he asked.
“Yes, please. I’m quite hungry, actually, so I wouldn’t mind eating soon.”
Allie took the menu he proffered and opened it. But the small black print was blurry and even when she squinted, she couldn’t decipher it. She peered over the top of the menu at Chris and he seemed to be reading his with no trouble at all. She couldn’t remember him wearing glasses when they were younger but then didn’t most people need them at some stage? The optician had told her that it was common to need glasses for reading once you hit forty.
C
hris caught her watching him. “Everything okay?”
“Yes. Uh… no. I can’t see without my glasses these days.”
“Thank goodness for that!” He laughed. “Me neither but I didn’t want to put mine on. Vanity, eh?”
“After three?” She swung her bag around and unzipped it.
“I will if you will.”
He pulled a small case from the pocket of the suede jacket that hung on the back of his chair, then opened it and held out a pair of square dark-rimmed glasses. “With writing, there’s no way I can cope without these. I try not to wear them but it’s a losing battle. I might only be forty-four but things start to slide.”
Allie rummaged in her tiny bag. When her fingers found her glasses case, she tugged at it, but it was lodged beneath her purse. She tugged again and it loosened and shot out, but as it did, a shiny square of foil came flying out too. Allie watched in horror as it soared through the air then landed in Chris’s pint.
He stared at his glass.
Allie stared at his glass.
Then they both started to laugh.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”
His face had turned red and he held his stomach as if it hurt. Allie grew hot all over as mortification mingled with amusement.
Bloody Camilla!
“Well,” Chris said, when he finally caught his breath, “I didn’t expect that to happen.”
“Blame my friend, Camilla. She forced it on me in the car earlier and wouldn’t take no for an answer.” She took hold of his glass and fished out the condom then dried it with a napkin and stuffed it back in her bag.
“I have to admit, I’m disappointed now. I thought my luck was in.”
Allie shook her head and removed her glasses from the case then put them on.
“I’m not that kind of girl.”
He put his glasses on then gazed at her from behind the lenses, his dark eyes twinkling. “No you’re not, Allie. You’re a woman now.”
Allie raised her menu to hide her face.
What was happening here? What was this strange sensation coursing through her body, making her feel so vibrant and alive?
A Year at The Cosy Cottage Café_A heart-warming feel-good read about life, love, loss, friendship and second chances Page 4
