Chapter 21
21
AILISH
Roxy had turned Ailish away from the mirror, while she blow-dried her hair, and Kaz, one of the salon’s make-up artists got to work on her face. At the next chair, Alexis, who was, it turned out, skilled in both hair and beauty, was now applying Gwen’s foundation, while Rhonda was doing her own make-up because she said she was too much of a control freak to delegate.
The last hour had been utterly blissful, as the foils had come out and her hair had been rinsed and cut, all the while sipping on a cocktail and reminiscing about a hundred different wonderful times they’d had since the first day they’d walked into high school. Or rather, in Rhonda’s case, danced in – she was the only one whose parents could afford a Walkman and she’d worn it everywhere for the entire duration of the eighties.
Ailish still had huge reservations about going to Gino’s, but she’d blocked them out of her mind for the time being. Right now, she was sticking with all those corny modern-day sayings that she usually mocked. Focus on the present. Don’t worry about what you can’t control. Live in the moment. Live, laugh, love. And drink cocktails with your pals. That last one she’d made up herself and it was her favourite.
The salon was completely closed now, with all the other clients gone, and the only staff remaining were the ones who were working on the VIP guests. The luxury of that wasn’t passing Ailish by because she’d never been a VIP anything. That was probably why – despite Rhonda’s million attempts to give her a make-over – she’d had the same hairstyle for thirty years and it had taken a good fifteen minutes with tweezers and wax for Kaz to de-bulk her eyebrow forestry situation.
‘Good thing is, heavy brows are in right now, so you’re bang on trend. Just need a bit of tidying up,’ she’d told her. Ailish realised she was just trying to make her feel better, but she was grateful for it. Even when she’d been facing the mirror, she’d avoided looking at her reflection, because what was the point? The whole ‘high-maintenance grooming’ thing just wasn’t for her. Although, she could definitely see the merits of making it an occasional treat, especially in this company.
Gwen already looked completely transformed from the exhausted, worried friend that they’d been visiting in hospital for the last two weeks. Her short, silver grey hair was stunning, her eyes were bright and she had that enthusiasm in her voice that had been swallowed up by fear, pain and struggle for a long time now. Ailish would have been happy just to sit here and appreciate the boost to her pal, but there was no denying that getting a bit of pampering herself was an extra bonus. Roxy was now twirling Ailish’s hair around an implement that she didn’t even recognise. Apparently, it was going to give her ‘beach waves’, despite the fact that it was minus two degrees outside, and her typical beach look had always been ‘pulled back in a ponytail, slightly sweaty and smelling of SPF 50’.
‘So, tell me then, what are your New Year’s resolutions?’ Rhonda asked. ‘I’ll go first. I’m going to live every single day on my own terms, do whatever the hell I please and look into getting a Brazilian butt lift.’
‘Is that not just a normal Monday for you? And a Tuesday. And a Wednesday…’ Ailish teased her.
‘Exactly. That’s the point. I honestly don’t think I want to change anything.’
Ailish noticed a flicker of a shadow go across Gwen’s expression as she contemplated that. ‘You okay, Gwen?’
Her friend nodded, causing Alexis to yelp, as she was in the process of drawing on Gwen’s eyeliner flicks with intense precision.
‘Shit, sorry,’ Gwen cringed. ‘Do I look like a goth with eyeliner out to my ear now? Only that was my gig for half of the eighties, so I know I can rock it.’
Alexis was already correcting the blip with a cotton bud. ‘Nope, I can salvage it. I’ve got talents in this department. I once did my pal’s eyeliner when we were driving in the back of a transit van. It’s a long story.’
‘Were you being kidnapped?’ Ailish asked, intrigued.
‘Nope, going to a party. Our car had broken down and a pal who’s a plumber picked us up. There were ten of us in there.’
Ailish was dying to hear more, but first, she wanted to find out what had perturbed Gwen. Was she starting to feel unwell? Too exhausted to do this? Having second thoughts about going out?
‘Gwen? Sure you’re okay?’
‘I am. I’m just…’ She cleared her throat. Took a moment. Then spoke with sad, but determined clarity. ‘I’m just thinking about that whole New Year’s resolution thing. You know, I always used to buy into that. Lose ten pounds. Start doing Pilates. Declutter the junk drawer in the kitchen. But if you asked me over the last year, I’d have said I was happy just to go for staying alive. That was it. None of the other stuff mattered. But now…’
She paused again, and everyone in the room was hanging on her every word, conscious and grateful that all their trivial, bullshit worries had just been put in perspective.
‘Now I think I’d like to do more than that. I don’t just want to be alive, I want to feel alive too. I want to make plans. Prioritise the right things. I’ve dedicated so much to my career for so long that now I think I want to dedicate myself to me. To my friends. To living life. And… I feel so corny for saying this out loud, but I want to love again. Real love. The kind that sets your knickers alight and makes your heart race. I want that.’
Silence. Not a single sound. All of them were still, pensive, moved, heartsore for second, after second, after second, after…
‘Well, that blows my Brazilian butt lift out of the water then, doesn’t it?’ Rhonda said, with a dramatic sigh.
Meanwhile, right next to Ailish’s face, Kaz began wailing, ‘Oh no, oh no, no, no. no… Roxy, help me out here – you get the other side.’
It was only when both women began frantically dabbing Ailish’s cheeks with sponges that Ailish realised tears were streaming down them.
‘Ailish, doll, I think I’ve seen you cry more today than I have in the last forty years,’ Gwen said, gently cajoling her.
‘I know!’ Sniff. ‘I’m sorry.’ Sniff. ‘It’s just that… Argh, I want all that for you. I really do. You deserve everything. And the fact that you’re still open to starting over and taking risks with your heart just blows me away. In case I haven’t told you lately, Gwen Millen, you’re fricking spectacular and I love you.’
Gwen reached over and squeezed her hand. ‘I love you right back, hon.’
‘I promise we’re not always like this,’ Rhonda said to the others while wiping tears away. ‘We’re usually fairly emotionally repressed and prone to covering up feelings with superficial chat and wine.’
As always, Rhonda’s way with words lifted the mood again.
Cosmetic applications resumed and Ailish took a large sip of her cocktail, before realising that Gwen had more on her mind.
‘Right then, Ailish Ryan, it’s your turn. Resolutions?’
Ailish thought about it. ‘If you’d asked me ten minutes ago, I’d have said I had none, but now I don’t know. I think I’ve been in a bit of a hole since Eric… well, you know what he did. And to be honest, I’ve been happy there in my bubble of nothingness. Hurts less. But maybe it’s time to start thinking about finding something that makes me happy too.’
‘Or someone?’ Rhonda asked.
Kaz took that moment to apply lip liner and then lipstick, so Ailish had time to formulate an answer. It just wasn’t a great one.
‘Maybe. I don’t know. Perhaps. Or maybe not.’
‘Good to know you’re decisive there,’ Rhonda chuckled. ‘But while we’re getting all deep and meaningful here for once, tell me something. What about Eric? If he ever came knocking on your door again, how would you feel? Would you consider taking him back?’
‘Oooh, good question, Rhonda,’ Gwen took over. ‘I’ve wondered that too.’ She turned back to Ailish. ‘Don’t hate me, but I’ve always thought that maybe you’ve been shut down for the last couple of years because… like I said, don’t hate me… But maybe a part of you is still in love with him? I mean, you had a lifetime together and right up until he had a midlife crisis and screwed everything up, you were always so fricking happy – it would be totally understandable.’
Ailish felt all the muscles in her stomach tighten and her palms begin to sweat. The truth was, it hurt to even think about being with him again, because then she had to remember how great so much of their lives had been. Somehow, it was so much easier to demonise him as the Adulterous Arse, and that was true, but for almost thirty years before that he’d been a different Eric altogether. One who loved her. Who made her laugh. Who she couldn’t ever imagine being without, because they made each other so incredibly happy. And it wasn’t just the big moments, like the day he asked her to marry him. Although, that was, without doubt, one of the happiest moments of her life.
Of course, it had been at Gino’s. And it was just before midnight. Rhonda was with the man who would be husband number one, Gwen was with a guy who looked like the lead singer from A Flock Of Seagulls. Minnie and Henry were there as always, but so were her own parents, Duncan and Vi. Eric had invited them along, but she had no idea it was because he’d already asked her dad’s permission to propose. It would have been easy to do the big public thing of asking her in front of everyone, but that thoughtful, considerate Eric, the one she was madly in love with, had known she would hate being the centre of attention. So just before midnight, he’d taken her hand and, as the party went on around them, he’d led her into a little alcove at the side of the main dining area, where Gino kept the restaurant’s dessert trolley.
‘Ails,’ he’d said, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. ‘I know you said you won’t get married until you’re thirty…’ She’d vaguely remembered saying that in a moment of acting cool and independent one day, but she hadn’t actually meant it. ‘But I love you more than anything and I don’t want to wait that long to call you my wife. I mean, I will, if you insist. But I’d really much rather marry you now – today, tomorrow, whenever you’ll have me. So will you please?—’
‘Yes,’ she’d blurted. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’
That’s when he’d realised he hadn’t even had a chance to get the ring out, and he’d fumbled for it in his pocket. But the jewellery wasn’t important. Their love was. Their family.
That happiness came around again the night Emmy was born and the three of them had lain on her hospital bed for hours, while Eric told his new daughter all the wonderful things they’d do in their lives together.
But Ailish had adored him for who he was in all the small moments of their day to day existence too. The way he’d tug her down on to the couch after she’d had a bad day and he’d stroke her hair while he listened to her. Or the way he’d ooze enthusiasm for weekends and holidays, and he’d persuade her to walk along the beach with him at sunset, while he told her how much he loved her. He’d buy her flowers for no reason at all, other than to make her smile. He wasn’t perfect, but he was honest and kind, and he adored his family. It was almost impossible to reconcile that man with the person who’d cheated on her, because it was so incomprehensibly out of character that she still found herself wondering how it could possibly be true. Sure, he was an adrenaline junkie who thrived on new and exciting things, but he’d always taken her and Emmy along for the ride. Until the last time. That was an adventure that he’d gone on with someone new.
That thought snapped her back to the present, her mind replaying Rhonda’s question. How would she feel if he came knocking on her door now? Well, he’d done that earlier today, but she was 100 per cent sure it wasn’t because he wanted some windswept reunion. Probably realised she’d got his Elton John CD collection in the split and wanted it back.
No, reconciling with Eric was the last thing she wanted to think about. The very last. And yet… Gwen wasn’t wrong. She had loved Eric with everything she had, been so sure that they would grow old together, that he was the one person she could trust with her heart. It wasn’t him being with someone else that hurt the most, or the fact that it was with a thirty-something who had yet to discover the joys of middle-age spread and hot flushes. It was that he’d made her wonder if she’d ever truly known him, and taken away the future they’d planned together. If you couldn’t trust your best friend, the person who’d promised you the world for thirty years, then who could you trust? How could you live with that person again? But then, clearly she was doing a terrible job of living without him too.
Before she could answer, Rhonda had a light-bulb moment. ‘Actually, I’ve just realised something. Today must be the anniversary of the day you got engaged, as well as the anniversary of…’ She stopped, diplomatic enough not to mention it. ‘Oh shit, Ails, I’m sorry.’
It was the other kicker in their story. They’d got engaged on the 31 st of December. Over thirty years later, she’d found out he was cheating at a party that began on the 31 st of December. And today, her divorce had become official. On the 31 st of December. There was some kind of deep, twisted poetry to that.
Gwen’s forehead creased with concern. ‘Wow, so it is. What’s the chances of your divorce dropping today too? I bet you just wanted to stay in bed this morning.’
Ailish gave a half-hearted smile, then shook it off. ‘I did, but not now. I’m so glad we did this and I wouldn’t swap it for anything. Although, strictly speaking, I found out he was cheating in the early hours of the first of January, so, technically, you can strike that one off the anniversary list.’
She could see both Rhonda and Gwen’s shoulders relax a little when she said that. And, in front of her, Kaz stood back, scrutinised Ailish’s face, then broke into the sweetest grin.
‘My work here is done,’ she announced. ‘You’re now 100 per cent babe.’
It was the very best interruption at the very best time. Ailish just wished she could turn around to view her newly proclaimed, and undoubtedly wildly exaggerated ‘babe-ness’, but Roxy was still at work with the curling thingy. Instead, she thanked Kaz profusely and made a mental note to give her a whopper of a tip.
‘I’ll be another five minutes or so,’ Roxy promised. ‘Nearly done.’
Gwen and Rhonda were already completely finished, both still just relaxing with their drinks next to her. Ailish hoped the interruption to the conversation would have jumped them on to a different subject, but apparently not.
‘You still didn’t answer the question about Eric?’ Dammit. Rhonda wasn’t letting that one go.
It was the question she’d asked herself a dozen times. ‘I want to say absolutely not, no way, not in a million years.’
‘But?’ That came from Gwen.
‘But the truth is,’ she braced herself for the backlash, then winced as she admitted, ‘I really don’t know.’
It took her a second to absorb that she’d really said that out loud.
Thankfully, she was saved from her friends’ questions, pushback or outrage by the magnificent Roxy, who, right at that moment, put the twirly thing down and began shaking out Ailish’s hair with her fingers. A spray of some divine-smelling mist came next, then Roxy stood back, surveyed the scene, smiled. ‘All done. Are you ready to see?’
‘This is like one of those makeover shows on TV,’ Ailish giggled, mostly because everyone was staring at her and, well, the whole aversion to being the centre of attention was kicking in. She was sure Roxy and Kaz had done a perfectly lovely job, giving the constraints of the canvas they had to work with.
‘Absolutely,’ she confirmed, ready to smile, to say thank you, and then leave here with her beautiful pals.
Roxy beamed, as she whooshed her around to face the mirror. ‘Here you go then. Pure stunner.’
Ailish got ready. Smile. Say thank you. Then…
Something wasn’t right. Wasn’t computing. She was staring in the mirror straight ahead, but… Who. The. Actual. Hell. Was. That. Staring. Back?
It was Ailish. But not fifty-four-year-old, exhausted, browbeaten, recently divorced Ailish. It was pre-heartache Ailish. Pre-grey Ailish. Pre-neglect Ailish. Years younger. Years brighter. Years of pain and stress all rubbed out by Kaz and Roxy’s magic.
And oh, if she did say so herself, for the first time in recent memory, in fact, maybe since the nineties, she was indeed 100 per cent babe. Fifty-four-year-old babe, but still.
If it wouldn’t ruin Kaz’s artistry, she’d willingly succumb to tears of happiness.
A swell of something she didn’t recognise came right up from her toes and it took her a minute to realise what it was… Optimism. Hope. A tiny tug of excitement.
In the last few hours, it was more than just her physical appearance that had experienced a makeover. Something on the inside had changed to match the outside.
‘What do you say then, Ails?’ Gwen asked. ‘Are we going to leave here feeling fantastic and ready to conquer the world?’
The woman in the mirror gave her a silent push. If Gwen, after all she’d been through, was ready to open her heart to life and to love again, maybe it was time she did that too.
Deep breath, slap a smile on and let’s do this .
‘Yes,’ she said, to everyone in the room, but most of all to the woman staring back at her in the mirror. ‘I think we are.’