Chapter 23
‘You and me are going to get out of this house for a little while.’
‘We are?’ Robyn said, sitting at the kitchen table, feeling the warmth from the Aga as she finished her lovely cup of tea and her toast, which was slathered with butter and marmalade. She cast a disappointed look towards the lounge, where the boxes of Gayle’s family photos rescued from the attic were still waiting for her to have another leaf through. That had been the plan for after her second breakfast of the day; at least it had been before Gayle suggested going out.
Robyn supposed a walk on New Year’s Eve wouldn’t do any harm. A few minutes later, she joined Gayle at the front door, wearing a lovely warm bright pink parka with a cosy faux fur lining. ‘Do you mind?’ Robyn asked, doing a twirl in the coat in front of Gayle. ‘It’s from the trunk in the attic.’
Gayle shook her head. ‘Of course not. It suits you.’
‘I know.’ Robyn still didn’t fancy wearing any of the mostly black clothes from her own suitcase.
Gayle opened the front door.
Robyn glanced at the stairs. ‘Wait! What about your mum? Is she up yet? Should we take her with us?’
Gayle smiled. ‘Oh, Robyn! You’re always thinking of others. While you were down in the basement, the minibus arrived to take her to the community hall in Aviemore, where they hold a coffee morning and activities.’
‘She’s okay going on her own?’
‘Oh, it’s all supervised; there will be others there with my mother’s condition too. It’s the only way she still gets to meet up with old friends.’
Robyn smiled. ‘What a lovely idea.’
‘One of my brothers pays for the sessions. I couldn’t afford it.’
Robyn nodded as she followed Gayle out of the door.
‘Talking about going out,’ said Gayle, locking the door behind them. ‘Don’t you want to know where we’re going?’
Robyn shrugged. ‘I don’t mind.’ She was trying to be diplomatic. She wasn’t really interested in where they were going; she was more interested in spending time looking at the other photos of the house that she’d found in the basement. But she didn’t want to upset Gayle by not accompanying her. Besides, Gayle could probably use the company.
‘We’ll be back by the time Mother arrives home this afternoon. Then she takes her afternoon nap. Has done ever since I could remember. Says it rejuvenates the body. Me, I couldn’t sleep in the day.’
‘Me neither.’
‘Still, nap time has its uses.’
‘Like what?’
‘I can go out for a couple of hours.’
‘What if she wakes up while you’re gone?’ Robyn didn’t like to think about the possibility that Gayle’s mum might wake up and, because of her dementia, be unable to remember where she was, and feel frightened, alone in the big old house.
‘Won’t happen.’ Gayle said, sounding very sure of herself. ‘Remember, we have a neighbour whose known us for years and years. Although she’s quite elderly now, she doesn’t mind popping in and keeping an eye on Mum while I’m out shopping, or when I have one or two clients who have booked appointments.’
‘Clients?’ Robyn paused before she got in the car, and looked at Gayle.
‘Remember I said I trained as a hairdresser years ago before I went into nursing?’
Robyn nodded as she joined Gayle in the car. Gayle switched on the car engine and set off. ‘I took early retirement from nursing to look after my parents, so I’ve fallen back on hairdressing to earn money to top up my pension. I would have been much better off financially staying in nursing, but this works well because I can fit in appointments around caring for Mother.’
Robyn looked out of the car window as Gayle drove down the street. ‘So, is that where we’re going – to one of your appointments?’
‘You sound disappointed.’ Gayle eyed Robyn.
‘Oh no, not at all.’ Now she was out, in the car, enjoying the scenery as Gayle drove, and feeling the warmth of the winter sun, which was streaming through the car window, Robyn felt differently. ‘It’s nice to get out of the house for a break and a change of scene.’
‘Ah, I thought you’d come around.’
Robyn blushed when she realised Gayle had sensed her reticence to go out. She wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do with herself during the appointment, though. She’d probably sit and listen to Gayle catch up with her client. And there would be plenty of magazines she could sit and leaf through. Hairdressers always had piles of old magazines. Robyn began to smile. What woman wouldn’t want to while away an afternoon in the company of some hot celebrity gossip in a magazine? she thought.
‘’There, you see? The change is doing you good already,’ Gayle said, catching her smiling.
‘It’s very good of you to work on New Year’s Eve,’ commented Robyn.
‘Oh, not at all. I don’t mind. Besides, like I told you, New Year’s Eve is quite the occasion in Scotland, so hairdressers tend to work so that women can get their hair done before they go out.’
As they headed for town, passing the loch, the expanse of water glistening in the morning sunshine, Robyn asked, ‘What’s it called?’
‘What is what called?’
‘Your hairdressing business.’ Robyn was wondering whether, if Gayle told her the name of her hairdressing salon, she would remember it. She knew that she must have visited Aviemore before the trip she had made with Gayle the previous day to buy some wine and nibbles, because of the sketch of Wilbur’s Bookstore in her diary or sketchbook – whatever it was. How could she think of it as a diary when there was no writing in it? I’m weird , she thought.
‘Ah, it’s just Gayle’s Hairdressing.’
Robyn frowned. She didn’t recognise the name.
‘Hope you don’t mind that we’re going to be making a couple of visits this afternoon. Sorry, I suppose I should have warned you before you came along.’
Robyn turned to look at Gayle. ‘A couple of visits?’
‘Yes, that’s normally the case. I’m going to Rose’s, and time permitting, because I did tell Mrs Henshaw that I must be home by 3pm sharp,’ – she wagged her finger at an imaginary Mrs Henshaw – ‘all going well we might make it to her house too.’
‘You don’t work at a hairdresser’s in town?’ Robyn couldn’t hide her disappointment. The vision of piles of juicy gossipy magazines evaporated.
‘Well, whatever gave you that idea?’
Robyn shrugged. ‘Sorry, I thought you had a hairdressing salon.’
‘I haven’t got a premises where I run a salon. I visit clients in their homes. I work freelance. I’m a mobile hairdresser.’
‘Where’s your stuff?’ Robyn glanced at the back seat, which was empty. She hadn’t seen Gayle take a bag out of the house with her.
‘I keep all my equipment, scissors, combs and hairbrushes, hairdryer, straighteners, curling tongs, hair products, and towels and gowns in a carry case.’
‘I didn’t realise you needed to take so much stuff with you.’
‘Oh, yes. All the equipment and products you see a hairdresser in a salon use, I have to provide.’
‘It all sounds very professional.’
‘Absolutely. I’m properly set up; I pay my taxes. I haven’t the time to do it any other way. I can’t take on a job in a hairdresser as they most likely will need me to work fixed hours, which I can’t guarantee. As I said, I need the flexibility. And renting a chair in a salon to see my clients there just eats into my profits.’ Gayle sighed, ‘I don’t know how long I’ll be hanging around these parts.’
‘Oh, don’t say that, Gayle.’ Robyn knew what she was getting at; how long she stayed on living in her parents’ house all depended on her mother’s health, and how much time she had left. She thought of Gayle’s mother’s possessions – the ones worth anything financially, her silverware and fine bone china, already distributed and boxed ready in her basement to be taken once she passed away. How sad. Robyn was suddenly glad that Gayle’s mother had no clue what had been going on when her three other children had visited.
Gayle said, ‘Things change, Robyn. That’s just a fact of life.’
‘But wouldn’t you like to stay here – perhaps open a salon of your own?’ Robyn ventured. She could see Gayle smile at the thought. ‘And then all your mobile clients would know about you and hopefully would come to your salon.’
Gayle’s head bobbed up and down.
‘And you could call it …’
‘Gayle’s Salon.’ Gayle dreamily intoned.
Robyn stared at her. ‘You have been thinking about it.’ she said wryly. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’
‘Oh, I don’t know, because people might think it’s silly. Some people dream of travelling the world or saving endangered species or having children. And I dream of …’ she cocked her head to Robyn and said in a silly voice, ‘Gayle’s Salon.’
‘What’s so silly about that?’ Robyn replied. ‘It’s not silly at all. And you know how I know for sure?’
‘How?’
‘Because it’s what you want, Gayle, and nobody else. It’s what’s in here.’ Robyn pointed at her chest. ‘Your heart’s desire. And no parents or siblings or friends can tell you what you should or shouldn’t do. That’s how I know.’
They travelled along in silence for a moment. Robyn could tell Gayle was still savouring the vision of her little salon with its sign above the door.
Robyn turned away from Gayle to stare out of the window, wishing she knew what her dream had been before the accident. She knew she’d been at college, but what was it that she really wanted to go on and do afterwards?
‘You’ve gone awfully quiet, Robyn. Is something the matter?’
Robyn stared out of the car window. They’d left Aviemore behind, ‘I wish … I wish I knew what my dream had been.’
Gayle glanced at her. ‘Oh, right. The memory thing.’ Gayle pursed her lips. ‘I was going to ask you what your dream in life is. What about your diary? Isn’t there a clue in there?’
‘That’s useless. Just a load of meaningless sketches.’
‘So, start over. Make a new one.’
‘A new diary?’
‘No, a new dream in life. What did you say about it being right if it comes from the heart? Well, your heart is still the same, even if your memory isn’t.’
Robyn stared at Gayle. She felt envious of Gayle – she knew exactly what she wanted out of life, which Robyn felt was one of the great mysteries that each person had to solve for themselves. And Robyn guessed the trick was to discover it pretty early on. That way, a person could start figuring out they were going to do about it and how they were going to get there.
Robyn felt she was starting with a massive disadvantage – not knowing who she was. She didn’t want to share this thought with Gayle, who was only trying to be helpful and upbeat. But as Gayle had said before, she couldn’t really put herself in someone’s shoes who had lost their memory.
They drove the rest of the way in silence. Robyn was worried that she was not being good company and that Gayle would wish she hadn’t brought her along, but every time Robyn stole a glance over at Gayle, she still had a whisper of a smile on her face. She imagined that her friend was preoccupied with thoughts of Gayle’s Salon. Robyn smiled too. She was pleased for Gayle. Her smile faded when her thoughts turned to her own predicament. She didn’t want to start over. What she wanted, more than anything, was for her memory to come back.