Chapter Three
Hayley
H ayley lined up the bottles of conditioner on the hanging display shelves in the window of Cutting Edge, the salon she’d worked in for the last five years.
‘I was thinking last night,’ her colleague Amber said.
‘Uh-oh, dangerous.’ Hayley giggled, winking at Colette, the new salon assistant.
‘Oh stop.’ Amber flapped her hand. ‘It was about this time last year we went to the National Hair Show, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, you’re right,’ Hayley said. ‘It’s another salon’s turn this year though, isn’t it? I can’t remember which one.’ She made her way through the salon, which was a long narrow room with chairs and mirrors up both sides, a reception desk and a small waiting area to the front and a row of washbasins at the back. Behind them was the backroom that doubled as a small staff room and storage area. Hardly the salon of top stylists, but Hayley didn’t mind. She loved this place and couldn’t imagine working anywhere else. It was like a wee home from home and her colleagues were friends, almost like a family.
The faint scent of conditioner mixed with colouring solution lingered in the backroom as Hayley arranged a portable workstation ready for her first client. By the end of the day, she wouldn’t notice the smell, but before the clients arrived, and the dryers started up, it was the signature scent of the place.
‘Pity we couldn’t wangle tickets for us too.’ Amber rolled up a towel and placed it on the shelf. ‘It was so good last year.’
‘That was because we got to go together,’ Hayley said. ‘I don’t think they’ll allow that again. We had such a backlog afterwards.’
‘Yeah, true. Shame.’ Amber rolled up another towel.
‘It sounds amazing,’ Colette said. ‘I hope I get to go sometime. Is it in Glasgow?’
‘There is a salon show in Glasgow,’ Hayley said. ‘But this was the big one in London.’
‘I’d love to go to London again.’ Colette let out a sigh. ‘My mum took me for my eighteenth last year, but I’ve never had a chance to go back.’
‘I don’t fancy doing it on my own.’ Amber placed the final towel on the shelf. ‘I’d get lost too easily.’
‘Oh, same,’ Colette said. ‘What if I got lost or mugged?’
‘London can be a scary place.’ Hayley bobbed her head in agreement. ‘But lots of fun too. I know my way around quite well.’
‘You were great.’ Amber patted Hayley’s elbow. ‘Remember when those two guys tried to pick us up last time?’
‘Oh my god. I don’t think we’ve ever run faster. They were so creepy.’
The door to the main salon opened with a tinkle of the bell.
‘I think that’s Felicity Swan, your first client.’ Colette peered towards the door.
‘Ah, yes, it is.’ She’d been a friend for a few years now. Hayley wheeled her mobile workstation into the salon, smiling at Felicity. How lucky she was to have met lots of people here she now classed as friends. ‘Hey Felicity. In you come and take a seat.’
‘Hi.’ Felicity sat down. ‘I haven’t seen you for ages.’
‘It’s been a while.’ Hayley combed through Felicity’s gorgeous long blonde hair. ‘Far too long, in fact. That’s what happens when you have such amazing hair. You don’t need to come and see me so often.’
‘I’ve just been so busy, but I’ve missed our chats.’
‘We can catch up today.’ Hayley winked at Felicity’s reflection. ‘So, just a trim?’
‘Yes. That’s perfect.’
‘I’ll wet it first if you’ll come to the sink with me.’ Hayley led her to the row of sinks. ‘You know, I was just thinking about you yesterday.’ She lifted Felicity’s hair up and angled the sink to cradle her neck.
‘Something good, I hope.’
‘Of course.’ Hayley started the showerhead. ‘I was thinking about possible venues for Finlay and Genevieve’s sten party. I thought with your distillery connections, you might have some suggestions. They might not fancy it, but I’m trying to think up some ideas.’
‘We could lay something on, I’m sure. Maybe set up some tasting sessions or we could get you out to Inverbuie. We’re making gin there now.’
‘I can see Genevieve liking that, though I’m not sure about Finlay.’
‘We could still do the whisky too if people preferred it. Just give me a call if they fancy it.’
‘I’m not sure what exactly they’d like. I’m looking into options. What flavours of gin are you making?’ She rubbed shampoo into Felicity’s hair, listening as she recounted their gin range. When Felicity was ready, Hayley wrapped a towel around her head and took her back to the seat. ‘And how are your own wedding plans going?’
‘Pretty well.’ Felicity sat back down. ‘We’ve only got a couple of months to go. It’s so difficult with my family living in London, trying to get dresses that fit. And you know what Gavin’s mum is like. She’s trying to stage manage in her own delightful way, though pretending to keep out of it.’
Hayley laughed. ‘She comes in here sometimes and tells me all the gossip.’
‘Oh no.’ Felicity hid her face in her hands. ‘I dread to think what she says about me.’
‘Nothing bad. She loves you.’
‘Really?’
‘Gosh yes. You’re the shining star of daughters-in-law.’
‘I would never have believed that.’
‘It’s true.’ Hayley slid a wide-tooth comb through Felicity’s damp hair, aligning the strands perfectly. Felicity was naturally pretty and her cheeks glowed. She’d make a beautiful bride. Hayley took a shuddery little breath, trying to ease out a weird little sensation in her chest – if only she could run a comb through that too and straighten it out. But there was no easing the tension. Most of the time she didn’t notice it, but it was always there, reminding her that everyone else was getting married. Ok, so everyone was an exaggeration, but it felt like that. People came in every week wanting wedding hair, and so many of her friends and family were planning weddings. Her lovely little cousin Willow was marrying super-handsome weatherman Marcus Bowman – she’d be a stunning bride, lovely Willow. Then there was her cousin Aidan. He was engaged to his gorgeous girlfriend Lilah. They were a jaw dropping couple any day of the week and would look a million dollars on their wedding day. Felicity was another. And there was Finlay and Genevieve, of course. As for me … She’d still be Bridesmaid McBride, chief stylist and organiser, but with no one for herself. Mustn’t complain. She loved helping people get together and seeing them find love and happiness was so sweet and heartwarming, but when it came to her own romantic life, things never seemed to click.
‘Now, let’s see.’ She separated some strands of hair and held them out to the side so Felicity could see in the mirror. ‘This much off?’
‘Yes. That’ll be fine. Just tidy the edges.’
Hayley lifted her scissors and carefully trimmed a centimetre from the strands.
Felicity smiled at her in the mirror. ‘What about you?’
‘What about me?’
‘Are you seeing anyone?’
‘No.’ She let out a sigh. ‘I’m on my tod for now and it’s ok. I quite like the freedom, you know. I can eat when I want, go out whenever I like, have the whole bed to myself.’
Felicity giggled. ‘You’re such a sweetie. I know you’ll find the right person when the time is right. Love has a funny way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it.’
‘You’re so right.’ Though it hadn’t found her yet. ‘Don’t you worry about me. I’m not bothered.’ Maybe if she said it enough, she could trick her brain into believing it was true and not panicking that every date would be yet another fail. It wasn’t like she was unlikeable… She had loads of friends and nearly always got on with people. And she’d always found the dates pleasant enough. Except pleasant wasn’t enough. Not really. She didn’t want to settle for just ok. Where was the spark, the buzz? The sense of something big. Maybe she wasn’t putting in enough time and effort. Was she expecting to be handed love on a plate?
Will I ever find Mr Right? Or am I doomed to be single forever?
Oh stop!
‘Can you put on the magic oil so it won’t fluff up if it rains, please?’ Felicity asked.
‘Of course.’
‘What other ideas did you have for the sten, if Finlay and Genevieve don’t fancy the whisky tasting?’
‘Well, that’s my main problem at the moment. They’ve left it to me to organise with Oliver.’ She pulled a face. ‘Finlay’s best man. Honestly, he is so exasperating and makes no secret of how boring he finds the whole thing. I’d be quicker doing it all myself, but I feel like Finlay wants Oliver to help. I don’t want to be the one to tell him his best man is the grumpiest guy on the planet and has no interest in his wedding.’
‘Can’t Finlay see that himself?’
‘Apparently not. They’ve been friends for a long time.’
‘He sounds maddening.’
‘It’s like he’s allergic to anything even remotely related to fun.’
Felicity raised an eyebrow. ‘Almost reminds me of Gavin when I first met him.’
Hayley paused for a moment, holding the straighteners poised behind Felicity’s head. ‘Really?’
‘Totally. I thought he was a right stick in the mud until the office Secret Santa day when he turned up in a Christmas jumper. That was when I first started to notice there was more to him.’
Hayley focused on her friend’s reflection in the mirror. ‘That’s hilarious, but truly there’s more chance of Scotland winning the world cup than Oliver doing anything half as fun as putting on a Christmas jumper.’
‘Oh dear. Sounds like you’d be better going ahead and organising something yourself.’
‘Yup. Only it’s such a copout for him.’
‘If anyone can charm him, it’s you.’
Hayley laughed. ‘Charm him? I’m not sure I’d even dare attempt it.’
Later, as she went about tidying up the salon with the girls, her thoughts wandered away from the chatter about what they were doing after work or having for dinner and onto the sten. The road to it was like a mountain path meandering up into the clouds, the pinnacle obscured. What would she find at the top and how could she drag the grump up with her? With a wistful smile, she put the towels into the wash.
‘Let’s lock up then.’ She took the keys from the hook.
Amber stifled a yawn. ‘That was a long day.’
Hayley waved goodbye to her and Colette, then pulled out her phone. She strolled up the familiar streets of Glenbriar, passing the shops filled with autumn decorations or spooky Halloween displays. Posters in the windows advertised the Forest Light Show. Was it too late to get tickets for that? Was that something they could use as a base for a sten? Probably not. The timing was all wrong.
She typed a text to Oliver as she walked.
HAYLEY: So, had any ideas for the sten?
Without much hope of a reply, she pocketed her phone. On her way up the road, she passed the Drip Drop Coffee Shop where her mum worked part time. Hayley peered in, not sure if this was a day her mum was in or not. Lights were off and it appeared to be closed. A waving figure looked up from wiping a table and Hayley grinned as her mum rushed over to the glass door and unlocked it.
‘Hey, sweetheart.’ Hayley’s mum, Lisa, embraced her as soon as the door was open and Hayley relaxed into her arms. Even after a day at work, Lisa seemed fresh as a daisy, her dark neatly bobbed hair sat almost as immaculately as when Hayley had cut it for her a couple of weeks ago. Her sweet perfume was like coming home, and Hayley forgot all the silly things that had been bothering her. Mum’s hugs made everything better. Always.
‘You’re late today.’ Hayley pulled back from the hug and looked around.
‘Two people were off,’ she said. ‘I’ve been run off my feet. This is me just catching up on the cleaning. I’m not meant to be in tomorrow, but I can see myself being drafted in. Annoying really, I’ve got loads to do at home.’
Hayley smiled. Her mum was always busy but would never see anyone stuck.
‘I’ll give you a hand cleaning up,’ Hayley said.
‘Oh, don’t be silly. You don’t want to be doing that after a long day.’
‘I don’t mind. Are you going straight home after?’
‘Yes.’ Lisa locked the door behind Hayley as she stepped inside. ‘I need to put my feet up.’
‘How about we grab a carry out?’
‘Love that idea.’ Lisa beamed as she wiped down a table. ‘You can stay over if you like. We’ll have some drinks, watch a movie and enjoy a girls’ night.’
‘Perfect.’ It would beat sitting at home alone and she and Mum always had so much to chat about. Hayley had always told her mum everything. As a teenager, when she’d brought friends around, Lisa had always been about, chatting, making food, and joining in like she was one of them.
Hayley had just started wiping down a table when her phone vibrated in her coat pocket. She pulled it out and glanced at it.
‘Who’s that?’ Lisa asked.
‘Oliver,’ Hayley groaned. ‘I asked him if he’d had any ideas for the sten.’
‘And has he?’
‘I doubt it.’ Hayley read the message.
OLIVER: Oh, sure. I’ve been thinking about nothing else all day.
Sarky git. Well, two could play at that game.
HAYLEY: Great! I bet you’ve come up with some great ideas then. Let’s have them.
‘Finlay will be happy you and Oliver are sorting this together. He was worried the two of you would fall out,’ her mum said.
‘Wonder where he got that idea,’ Hayley muttered as another text pinged in.
OLIVER: Sure, here you go… How about a seminar on the tax implications of marriage?
HAYLEY: Seriously? Come on…
OLIVER: No? A thrilling afternoon watching paint dry?
HAYLEY: Er, no…
But she smirked. What was he doing? Was this him trying to be funny? Or what? With him, she honestly wasn’t sure.
OLIVER: Alright, how about we all gather to count grains of sand on the beach? Truly romantic stuff.
HAYLEY: You’re impossible!
OLIVER: Just realistic. How about a thrilling game of ‘Guess the Divorce Settlement Amount’? Winner takes home a free prenup.
HAYLEY: OMFG!!! You’re awful!
OLIVER: Cutting too close? Maybe we need a new angle… perhaps a ‘Best Excel Spreadsheet Design’ competition…
Hayley shook her head, barely holding back a laugh. She glanced up to see her mum watching her.
‘What on earth is he saying? Sounds like he has loads of ideas.’
‘No, really, he doesn’t. I think he’s trying to be funny.’
‘That doesn’t sound like Oliver. Such a serious lad. So cruel that he lost his mum when he was little. I’ve never seen him smile since.’
‘Yeah. That must have been hellish.’ Hayley pulled a side pout. It seemed a long time ago to her. Something she hardly even remembered. She’d only been about eight, but it obviously wasn’t something he could so easily forget. She couldn’t imagine life without her mum. Maybe she’d been too harsh on him.
She returned her focus to the messages. How out of character were they? If she didn’t know better, she’d almost call it phone-flirting. Phlirting . She giggled at the word. I think I just invented that. Or maybe it should be flexting ? She sent another message.
HAYLEY: Those ideas are bollocks, BTW.
OLIVER: Excuse me? What’s wrong with them? Not fancy testing any of them? I see you being an expert in the art of watching paint dry.
HAYLEY: Maybe, but you know I wouldn’t be able to do it quietly, right?
OLIVER: I knew there would be a catch.
‘He’s got a lot to say anyway.’ Lisa went back to wiping her table.
‘Apparently so.’
HAYLEY: Not something you have to worry about, because you don’t want to join in anyway.
OLIVER: I might make an exception for the thrill of seeing paint drying.
HAYLEY: Would you now? Isn’t that straying into dangerous territory?
OLIVER: Why? Is the paint toxic?
HAYLEY: *string of laughing emojis* Haha. I was thinking more along the lines of you testing out a freshly painted venue with me. Sounds almost romantic… Next thing you know, we’ll be falling in love.
She chuckled out loud as she sent it.
‘Hayley.’ Lisa put her hands on her hips. ‘I hope you’re not teasing him.’
‘Can’t help it,’ she said.
Lisa shook her head, but she was smiling. ‘Just don’t be mean.’
‘When am I ever mean?’
‘That’s true. I’ve got good kids, that’s one thing I can say for sure. The two of you have always done me proud.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’ Hayley glanced back at her phone.
OLIVER: Zero chance, I assure you.
Her thumbs raced as she fired back a response.
HAYLEY: For once, I agree with you. Shocker! But got to admit that’s progress. Tell you what I am going to do though…
OLIVER: Whatever it is I strongly doubt you’ll succeed.
HAYLEY: I’m making it my mission to get you to crack a smile.