Chapter 2
GEORGIE DERN
Georgie hung up the phone and groaned as her head flopped back onto the pillow. It took way too much energy to sound cheery when, inside, she felt anything but.
And yes, she should be thrilled that she was about to take full responsibility and sole charge of the Copper Curls salon, but that sentiment was being overruled by too many negatives to count – the most overwhelming one being that she didn’t want her parents to go, and couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing her mum every day.
It wasn’t some weird co-dependency, it was just the simple truth that her mother was her second favourite person on earth, topped only by her daughter, Kayleigh.
Having Jessie McLean around just made her world a better place.
‘You look deep in thought there,’ Flynn said, as he came back to bed, carrying two coffees.
Georgie supressed another groan. Bugger. How had that happened? Flynn had brought Kayleigh back from university yesterday, stayed for dinner and well… If she was in a better mood, she’d probably make a joke about being the pudding.
Instead, she took the coffee and shooed him away, whispering, ‘You have to go. I don’t want Kayleigh to know that you stayed here last night. It’s too confusing and I don’t want to get her hopes up.’
There was an amicable divorce, and then there was this.
Flynn Dern, her husband of almost eighteen years, then her ex-husband of two years, thanks to his mid-life crisis and a decision to go off to Asia for a year to find himself.
As evident by his presence, he’d found himself back in Scotland twelve months later, living in a one-bedroom flat in Stirling, and having adopted a regular habit of dropping in to visit her.
Infuriatingly, he was uncannily good at showing up when Georgie was happy and in the mood for some passion to celebrate, or sad and in the mood for some passion to cheer her up, or stressed and in the mood for some passion to take her mind off her troubles.
She wasn’t quite sure what category last night fell into, but it was a toss-up between the last two.
He ignored her request to leave, sliding back under the duvet and taking a sip of the froth on the top of his cappuccino. His hair was wet, so he must have jumped into the shower before she’d woken up and called her mum. Mother of God, it was like he’d never left.
‘Would that be so bad? I mean, Kayleigh getting her hopes up?’
Georgie’s eyes widened. ‘Yes! Of course it would. I only let you stay because she’d already crashed out and I know she won’t wake until noon.’
He tried to get cute, displaying an admirable ability to nuzzle her neck without spilling his coffee. ‘That’s the only reason?’
‘That and the fact that I have normal needs, and I haven’t got time to shave my legs so that I can have sex with anyone else.’
If he was pissed off by that, she didn’t wait around to find out.
She’d loved this man and had wholeheartedly expected to stay with him forever, but then came the cataclysmic hurt and shock when he blew up their marriage.
Somewhere along the line, like childbirth or chickenpox scars, the memory of that pain had subsided, and while there was still love, now she was fairly sure – when they weren’t naked – that it was of the nostalgic, loyal, companionable variety.
In fact, much as it had been devastating at the time, and for a long time afterwards, now that there had been healing, space and a million grovelling apologies on his side, she could admit to herself that she was grateful in some ways that he’d called it quits.
He’d seen the issues in their marriage before her, realised that they were coasting, going through the motions, that they’d outgrown each other.
Although, hell would freeze over before she uttered that sentiment aloud and gave him any form of defence or justification for breaking their family apart.
He pushed himself up on one elbow. ‘Look, Georgie, I’m just putting this out there…’
If telepathy was a thing, he’d shut up right now, because she sensed what was coming and every cell in her body was willing him not to say it. Unfortunately, her silent communication was an epic fail, because he kept going.
‘…I want to try again. I want to move back in, and put our family back together.’
‘The family that you left for a long-term jolly to Thailand.’
‘It was a transcendental meditation retreat, and yes, I know what I did, but it wasn’t like I went off and shagged my secretary.’
‘You don’t have a secretary.’
‘I know but… God, you’re infuriating.’ He rolled his eyes, and the corners of his mouth turned up in that really adorable way that used to make her heart flip.
In fact, if she didn’t count Daniel Craig in his Bond years, he was the only man who’d ever actually made her heart flip.
And yes, there was something tempting about having that kind of attraction, companionship and hairy-legged sex on tap back in her life again.
Maybe if she allowed herself to remove all the walls of defence that she’d put up when he’d done a runner, then she could consider what reuniting would feel like.
But she couldn’t think about that right now.
Not today. Not when she was on the verge of a mini-midlife crisis of her own.
‘Wouldn’t it just be easier if you did the normal middle-age-male-divorcé thing and went searching for twenty-five-year-olds on Tinder?’
He ran his fingers through his Hugh-Grant-in-the-Notting-Hill-era waves.
‘I don’t want anyone else. Why would I be interested in someone else, when I know the right person for me is you?
I just needed to go through the break to realise that.
Anyway, think about it. Please. And much as I want to stay right here, I have to get moving or I’ll be late for work and the world of solar panels will crumble.
’ He pulled the duvet back and reached down for his jeans, pulling them on as Georgie realised she couldn’t sit still and climbed out of her side of the bed.
‘I’m just going to go grab a shower. Don’t make any noise and let yourself out.’
Before she made it to the door of her en suite, the one that she’d redecorated to remove all traces of him when he’d left, he added, ‘Kayleigh reminded me that it’s Jessie’s birthday and retirement party tonight. And that she’s leaving tomorrow.’
‘It sure is.’ It ached even to say that out loud. ‘You know, she invited you to the party.’
The fact that her mum had ferociously supported her when Flynn deserted them, yet still remained amicable was a credit to her cool head and emotional intelligence.
‘He’s Kayleigh’s dad, love,’ her mum had said back then.
‘And the lass is upset enough without us fuelling the flames and making the rift wider. There’s a lot we could say now, but if things get better, we can’t un-say them. ’
Of course, she was right. And now, with the benefit of time and mended fences, Georgie was relieved that she didn’t have to worry about a stand-off between her staunchest defender and the man who made a stupid mistake that he now, apparently, regretted.
‘I know, but I have a work thing. Give her my love though.’
‘I will. You have a good day. And thanks for not noticing that I’ve got legs like an Alpaca.’
‘I didn’t say that I hadn’t noticed…’ He joked, and ouch, there were the corners of his lips up again .
She locked the door behind her just to make sure she wasn’t tempted to go back out there and delay his departure, but this time she knew it would definitely be down to option 3 on the ‘excuses for having sex with the ex-husband’ list – taking her mind off a stressful situation.
Instead, she stood under a cold shower for several minutes, until her mind was blank, her lips were turning blue, and she was confident that her libido had gone back into hibernation.
When she eventually switched the water off, she used a thick, fluffy towel to dry her body and wrapped a turban around the wild mass of copper curls that came directly from her mother’s side of the gene pool.
Back in the bedroom, she pulled on the pink fleecy dressing gown Kayleigh had bought her last Christmas, then slipped her feet into her white Ugg slippers.
She picked up her cold coffee from the bedside table, took the mug downstairs, slotted it under the Nespresso machine she’d bought after being swayed by a George Clooney advert, and made herself a fresh cup.
It had just finished pouring when Kayleigh wandered into the kitchen behind her.
Surprised, Georgie hugged her girl. ‘Ah, it’s so good to have you here again.
I’ve missed your face in the mornings.’ The last four months of empty nesting since her daughter had gone off to the University of Edinburgh to study law had been excruciating.
Lonely. Challenging. Nobody warns a parent that when the kids leave, for the first time since two blue lines appeared on a pregnancy stick, you begin to reassess and analyse what you really want out of life.
Georgie had definitely asked herself the questions…
and she still didn’t know the correct answers.
Kayleigh indulged her sentimental moment. ‘I’ve missed you too, Mum.’
Georgie gave her one more squeeze before reluctantly letting her go. ‘I didn’t expect you to wake this early. ’
Kayleigh shrugged. ‘Dad made too much noise when he was sneaking out. Are you two still pretending that you’re not sleeping together?’ There was no missing the amusement in her daughter’s voice.
The amusement was all Georgie’s now as she feigned innocence. ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’
Kayleigh had her head in the fridge, going for the teenage breakfast trifecta of a bottle of water, a smoothie and last night’s leftover pizza. ‘You know he wants to get back together, Mum.’
It was way too early for this conversation, but now that it was here…
‘I do. How do you feel about that?’
Kayleigh delivered her second shrug of the morning. ‘It’s up to you. Please don’t fall for that clichéd thing and do it for me though. I honestly am fine with how things are now.’
Georgie nodded sagely. ‘I don’t know how you ended up this cool, but I’m taking the credit.’
‘Good genes and absorbing the wisdom in Taylor Swift songs.’ Kayleigh made her way to the door, food stash in hands. ‘Be nice to see you happy again though, Mum.’
Had it been that obvious that she was unhappy?
Cue a fresh wave of maternal worry that despite her best efforts, maybe she hadn’t maintained an emotionally stable environment throughout her divorce and the subsequent years.
Had she scarred her kid for life? She let the shutters drop on that one before it took hold, and she climbed onto one of the gorgeous silver mesh bar stools at her kitchen island, thinking as always that she really needed to buy new ones that were beautiful, but didn’t leave your arse looking like you’d been sitting on a cheese grater.
She pulled her phone out of her dressing gown pocket and saw there was a text from Grant. It must have come in while she was in the shower.
Sis! On my way. Be there about 11a.m. Any news on the job offer yet?
The job offer. Personal hairdresser for world-famous Scottish actor, Ollie Chiles, on the set of an American TV show.
The only benefit of fretting over her parents leaving was that it had temporarily distracted her from stressing about this potential opportunity to land the kind of role that defined a career.
One that had come out of the blue a few days ago and completely rocked her world.
One that she hadn’t even known that she wanted until it became a possibility.
One that would definitely put an end to any prospect of rekindling her marriage.
One that would throw her mum’s plans for Georgie to take over the salon into complete chaos. She couldn’t possibly entertain it.
Could she?
She’d been told that confirmation of the official offer would come by phone call or email, but she’d heard nothing. Maybe it wouldn’t even come to fruition. Yep, that would be the best outcome. Move along. Nothing to see here. Nothing lost. No impossible choice to be made.
Until she had all the details, there had been no point even considering it, so she’d chosen denial instead.
But now that Grant had brought it up, it was right back, front and centre in her mind, and a huge wave of mixed emotions – anxiety, regret, anticipation, fear, and yes, undeniable excitement – came with it.
She tried to flip back to denial. Don’t look. Don’t do it. Don’t think about it.
Apparently, her hands were ignoring her brain.
With shaking fingers, she checked her calls. None missed. She flicked to her emails. Nothing much more than discount codes for online shopping and a reminder that she was due a smear test.
Other missed texts? Just one from her Aunt Cathy saying her sister, Aunt Loretta, had been on the throat lozenges and hot tea with honey, and she reckoned her voice was going to hold up for the singing at Jessie’s shindig tonight.
It also said that her daughter, Helena, a hotshot lawyer and the scariest member of their family, and Cathy’s lovely granddaughter, Eve, were going to make it to the party too.
Georgie knew Kayleigh would be thrilled about that.
Despite Helena’s sharp, brusque manner, Kayleigh adored her, and she’d been the biggest inspiration in her decision to study law.
But other than that?
Nothing else. Nada. No word.
Clearly this was the universe taking the choice out of her hands and that could only be a good thing.
Today was the first day running the show at Copper Curls and Georgie just had to be content with that.
Because if the role of her wildest dreams had come through, then she would have to choose between taking it or continuing Jessie’s legacy in the salon her mum had built from scratch.
How could she pick a new life, on the other side of the world, knowing that it would break her mother’s heart?
No. She could never leave. And that was fine, so time to forget the whole crazy pipe dream and get on with real life.
And she was just about to do that when her phone began to ring…