Chapter 28
28
I walk into the hairdresser’s and do everything I can to hide my surprise. For some reason, I assumed Casey’s salon would look glossy and high-end, with chic staff and fizzy wine on tap. Instead I’m offered a coffee and digestive biscuit from a stylist comfortably dressed and old enough to be his mum. The chairs are tan leather and the units black. There’s a distinct masculine feel softened by a tabby cat asleep on one of the hairdryer chairs and the subtly brown and yellow floral wallpaper. I crouch down and it lifts its head for a scratch. The moss-green eyes narrow and study me as if the animal knows my plans.
‘Vi, meet Luna.’
‘Lovely name.’
He strides over and runs his hand down her back. She stretches and licks his fingers. ‘I found her abandoned outside under a full moon. She was only about ten weeks old. With the vet’s help, I brought her back to good health.’
‘You should have called her Lucky.’
‘I’m the lucky one. Some customers only come back because they know it means a couple of hours with her purring on their laps.’ He looks at the woman who offered me coffee. ‘Judy, you get off now.’ She gives him the thumbs up and his eyes scan her grey waves. ‘Have you decided yet about that pink tint?’
‘No. Derek might divorce me. He contacted his solicitor last year when I mooted getting a tattoo.’
They both laugh. Judy looks my way. ‘Casey’s a terror for leading people astray. Be careful, you might leave with a Mohican cut.’
‘Excuse me, I’m very professional,’ he says and brandishes a comb and scissors as if they are fighting off her insults.
‘That he is,’ says a young woman dressed in black with no make-up and shiny brunette hair. ‘But I don’t tell him that very often. There’s no room in this salon for an ego the size of his.’
He waves to his two employees as they leave. The door rings as it closes behind them. Casey offers me a cupcake. I shake my head. ‘Wise choice. One of my regulars, Eve, has just turned ninety. Such an inspirational woman. She still does Pilates. However, she’s never got over rationing during the war. These are austerity carrot cupcakes. Eve just uses that vegetable instead of sugar. I’m all for living on a budget, but this is a step too far.’
I stand up to sit in the chair he’s pointing to by the wash basins. Casey can’t stop staring. ‘That dress. It’s a knockout.’
As usual, Bella was right about me being able to pull off animal print. And just a slash of red lipstick must have brightened up my face without looking over the top. These are the nuggets of information I’d have found boring a few months ago. But now, it’s like finally trying the book of a popular author and understanding why they sold well.
He ties a black cape around me and I lean back. Water runs and his fingers gently massage my hair. I cross my legs as electric sensations travel down my spine.
‘I never knew your hair was curly. It looks amazing.’
‘You wouldn’t say that if it were yours.’
‘Seriously, why do you straighten it?’
‘It’s just a mass of frizz if I leave it to dry on its own.’
We chat about products that could make the most of my natural wave. We discuss the warm May weather and the novels we are reading at the moment. Then he leads me over to a chair in front of a huge mirror. Our reflections smile at each other. I wait for him to ask me where I’m off to tonight – but he doesn’t. Casey glances at his watch.
‘It’s okay. I’m not meeting my friends until seven.’
‘Oh, sure. That’s great, it’s just I’m due to be seeing someone at half past six.’
Of course a man like Casey wouldn’t be staying in. ‘You should have said. I hope I won’t make you late.’
‘No problem. I’ll have you looking tip-top in less than half an hour. You really want me to straighten it?’
‘Please.’
‘You out for dinner?’
At last he’s curious. I talk about the book club and the new bistro pub my friends had wanted to try. I speak up as he turns on the hairdryer in his hand. Luna jumps onto my lap and Casey goes to shoo her off, saying something about my dress.
‘It’s okay.’ I settle her down. ‘What are you up to tonight? Food? Cinema? Another Chapter Battle?’
‘None of those,’ he says and stops for a moment. ‘Drinks in a fancy bar. With Beatrix Bingham. She wants to meet me on her own.’ He runs his fingers through my hair and they brush against the back of my neck. ‘Is that normal? Shouldn’t my agent be there? She hasn’t even contacted him and messaged me via Facebook.’
I stop stroking Luna.
‘Vi? What do you reckon?’
I can hardly speak. ‘Sorry, Casey – could I bother you for a glass of water? Luna’s like a hot water bottle.’
Gratefully I drink from the glass he brings over. ‘It’s… not unheard of. I guess I contacted you about Alien Hearts . Although I was never going to be your personal editor, and the submission process hadn’t started then. Messaging you via Facebook is strange if she’s a real contender to work on this book with you.’
Now there was no questioning the rumours about Beatrix – confirmation as well that those popular social memes were right about people needing to take risks to be successful in life.
‘Maybe I should tell my agent.’
‘Definitely,’ I say and put down the glass. ‘She’s probably just keen, which is flattering, but you don’t want to come across as unprofessional.’
We chat about holiday plans and at first I struggle to pay attention. Maybe, just maybe, Beatrix’s ruthlessness is about to backfire on her. I zone back into the conversation. Casey’s always wanted to visit Cuba. This autumn I might visit Mum and Ryan in Spain. My mascara smudges as he makes me laugh. He asks more about Vintage Views and I talk about my friends and how recently it’s as if we have less in common.
‘You don’t sound very excited about going out tonight,’ he says.
‘To be honest, I wish I could get out of it.’
Casey finishes the blow dry. ‘You look beautiful. It would be a crime to waste this hair by staying here with me and Luna and eating pizza.’
I catch his eye and my chest flutters. Regardless of any book deal, I want to get to know this man better.
Being brave, I ask, ‘Would it be bad of us to cancel our plans?’
‘There’s nothing wrong with being bad now and again.’
‘Are you sure? Although there’s something you need to know before we go up to your flat… My favourite pizza is anchovies and sweetcorn.’ Lenny used to hate that. He said such toppings were supposed to show imagination but only showed a lack of finesse.
‘What do you know? I love anchovies too. I blame my mum. She always drilled into us it was very important to hold on to your differences.’
‘She’d have got on with my Uncle Kevin.’ I take out my purse to pay for the cut and blow dry. He waves it away. ‘Okay, then takeout is on me.’
He rings Beatrix and mutters something about feeling too tired.
He’s turning down an evening with her to be with me.
I call Pauline. She can’t hide the disappointment in her voice. But it’s a night for me to put myself first – a concept the old Violet Lenny cheated on would have struggled to comprehend. We go upstairs shadowed by Luna, who goes straight to her bowl by the fireplace. Casey lifts up a packet of biscuits next to it and shakes out some of the contents.
‘This is lovely,’ I say and study the full bookshelves. A carpet hangs above the mantelpiece. It’s of an elephant and is covered with sequins. The light in the middle of the ceiling doubles as a fan and with sun rays invading the small living room and the African art pieces dotted across the room, it’s as if I’m abroad, somewhere exotic. Casey lights a joss stick and straightens the linen cushions on the compact burgundy sofa.
‘It’s home,’ he says and goes into the kitchen. ‘I’ve been lucky enough to travel widely and try to reflect that in the decor. That’s my excuse for the dust – it reflects my stay in the Middle East.’ His lips curve up. ‘But these reminders of my trips lend me a sense of freedom that is easy to lose in a city as busy as London.’ The living area is open plan with two rooms leading off it, presumably the bedroom and bathroom. He pulls open the fridge door and takes out a bottle of wine. ‘Chardonnay or would you prefer a cup of tea?’
‘Wine would be great. Thanks.’ Knots in my stomach tighten. We’re alone for the first time, not in a cocktail bar or park or salon. All I can think of is the way his hands massaged my head. Legs shaky, I stand up and walk over to the kitchen. The words ‘Shrinking Violet’ tease me in my head.
What would Bella do?
This isn’t a difficult question to answer. She’s the woman who stood up to her parents at eighteen and told them university wasn’t for her. She’s backpacked around Thailand – that trip widened her interest in well-being. Bella takes charge.
It’s time I became more assertive in all areas of my life.
I take the bottle from him and place it on the work surface behind.
Is this a mistake? Should I sit and chat with him first?
No. The new me wastes no time in chasing her goals. She doesn’t react, she acts.
And there’s just something about his eyes, the curve of his mouth, the richness of his voice… There’s a chemistry between us that makes me feel like I’m about to explode.
Our lips part. Casey’s hands trail the zip down my back. He intoxicates me. Casey steps back and I lose myself in those inky eyes. He curls his fingers around mine. I lead him into the living room. He looks towards a door – behind which is his bedroom, I presume – and back at me. I nod. We’re in there within seconds and he pulls back the slate-grey duvet. I smile as we kiss again and drape my arms around his neck. Clumsily I pull him downwards and we fall against the soft sheets.
With a building sense of urgency, I tug his shirt out of his jeans and undo the buttons. I inhale his smell. It’s heady and masculine. It drives my hands over his bare chest. I imagine his doing the same to me.
But what if experienced Casey tears away the packaging and recognises that the real me is a frumpy misfit? What if I don’t come across as worldly-wise as an attractive woman should?
Since when did sex become so angst-ridden? Now there are expectations to meet. I’d never really appreciated before how in some ways, it used to be easier just being me. What you saw was what you got. That left no room for disappointment.
I push him away instead of the negative thoughts.
‘Vi?’ He sits up. His breathing is laboured.
‘I’m sorry, Casey. I can’t… You see?—’
He brushes dyed-blonde locks out of my face. ‘I guess we are rushing things.’ He runs a finger over my lips. ‘Perhaps we should have stuck to pizza instead.’
I wish the duvet would swallow me whole. It didn’t take much to persuade him to stop. My fears are right. I don’t turn him on.
‘Anchovies and sweetcorn?’ he says and tucks in his shirt.
I jump up and slip my shoes back on.
‘No, no, sorry – actually I ought to go to Pauline’s meal. I feel bad for letting her and the others down.’
Casey rubs the back of his head. ‘Right. Okay. You’re sure?’
I give him a quick kiss on the cheek without meeting his gaze. Feeling like an inexperienced teenager, I hurry outside and put my sunglasses on. My vision blurred, I almost collide with someone walking towards the salon. It’s Beatrix, carrying takeout and a wine bottle.