Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
Edith
“ A re you listening to me, Edith?” Mrs Lewis taps me on the arm, snapping me out of my trance. She’s come into the salon today for a facial, and I’ve zoned out for I don’t know how long as she lies on the bed.
“Sorry?”
“You stop the massage. I asked if you were okay, dear.”
Shit.
“Yes. Yes. Sorry. Tell me about your Aunt Polly. Is she still travelling the world?”
“Oh, yes.” I let her witter on while I resume the flow of my hands over the oiled skin of her shoulders and try and listen, but the truth is, I can’t. I haven’t been able to concentrate in two days, still trying to wrap my head around what happened on Saturday night.
I woke up on Sunday with the hangover from hell trying to piece together the night before, but the one thing I don’t have to try to recall is my dance with Joel.
I remember it all: the way he’d looked at me, steady and true; the way his warm breath had danced over my lips and the urgency inside me in needing to feel them against mine; the way he’d pulled me closer, feeling a lot more than his heart racing under my touch.
I remember it all.
I’d been intoxicated with lust for my best friend. My heart had raced with anticipation and a deep, burning desire. I’d wanted to lose myself entirely and never come up for air. I’d wanted it all, but there had been one thing stopping me in my wake: my sister.
Sophia had screamed at me in the back of my mind, judging me from her grave and watching me as if she were sitting on my shoulder. So, I’d held back .
Only I don’t know if I should have because his eyes had said so much more than they ever have.
Or at least, I believe they had.
We’d had too much to drink, but the look in his eyes as he’d locked them with mine had suggested he was very aware of what he was doing. And that look is all I’ve been able to see every time I’ve closed my own. He’d had the same expression when he walked me to my door, and I was left with the same spine-tingling feeling when he’d placed a lingering kiss on my cheek before saying goodnight.
Now I can’t work out what to do with that or if I should do anything at all.
“Alright, Mrs Lewis. You are all done.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Edith. You always do such a wonderful job.”
“Thank you. You’re very welcome.” I wipe the excess oil off her shoulders and help her up. She’s a regular client of mine and uses this time to relax from the stress of living in a house full of boys.
“I’ll let you get sorted and walk you out.”
When she is ready, she gathers her things together and we head out into the reception area to book her in for her next appointment. “There you go.”
“Thank you, Edith. I’ll see you next time.”
“Looking forward to it. Sorry I was a little distracted today. And be careful on the stairs on your way down.”
I wave her off, and the moment she’s out of sight, I throw my pen down and groan out loud as I head back into the treatment room to clear away the towels.
What has he done to me?
One dance has sent my mind on a rollercoaster of questions and scenarios, and I can’t seem to find the exit point to get off.
You were drunk Edith.
I keep telling myself that over and over, trying to convince myself that it was nothing—that moment we’d shared was nothing.
It needs to have been nothing.
Then, like I’ve been slapped in the face, Sophia comes into my thoughts yet again shutting everything down completely. Shame grips my stomach, and whatever I may have wanted that intimacy between Joel and me to be, it only makes me realise that it can never be possible.
She was his wife.
And if the devil isn’t dancing on my shoulders enough, my stepmother graces me with her presence as she strides into my treatment room without a care in the world.
Fucking great .
"Lorna, what a nice surprise. If you’re here for an appointment, I’m afraid you’re out of luck. I’m fully booked today."
"I don’t want an appointment—at least not from you anyway. And it’s about time you changed your colour scheme. The black makes you look morbid," she says, scanning her eyes up and down my uniform.
I refuse to comment. Ever since I opened my salon six years ago my uniform has been black. It stays cleaner for longer when dealing with different treatments all day. The interior of the salon is mostly white with yellow towels, a relaxing colour for my customers. I love my little establishment.
When I signed the contract with Joel we installed CCTV for the stairwell as a form of protection since I am sometimes up here alone late at night after Alice goes home. I only wish I’d seen my wicked stepmother before she entered the building so I could have been mentally prepared for the onslaught of insults.
"What can I do for you, Lorna? I have a client in twenty minutes."
And look out if I’m late because the client is Daisy.
"I heard you were with Joel on Saturday."
That warm fuzzy feeling I’ve had since that night turns ice cold. I look at her, wanting to know where she's going with this because her tone suggests she’s far from impressed.
"It’s a small village, Edith. People talk."
If guilt was a flashcard, it would be right in front of her face now.
I strip the treatment bed and place the towels in the wash basket, hoping to hide any signs of that night that will make her question me more. "What's your point here, Lorna?"
"Why didn’t he tell me he was going out?"
Ah, now I get it. She’s not come here because of what she may or may not have heard: she’s put out that she wasn’t aware Joel had left the house. I swear she thinks he lives behind closed curtains and candlelight, mourning the death of a loved one like they did in the eighteen-hundreds.
"I didn't realise he had to."
"He can't bring himself to visit me because he's too distressed over my Sophia's death. How could he possibly go out drinking?"
Before I can even answer, she steps closer and points her finger at me. The evil slits of her eyes have me pinned in place. One day I’m going to poke those fuckers out. "Were you behind this, Edith? Did you tell him not to tell me? Are you encouraging him to move forward before he’s ready? "
Needing her to leave, I step forward. My back straightens in a bid to show her she doesn’t scare me when deep down, all she’s ever made me feel is weak and incompetent. “No. I wasn’t behind it. But even if I was, he's an adult, Lorna. What Joel chooses to do or tell you, or anyone else for that matter, has nothing to do with me. Now, if the only reason for coming here is to nag about what you weren’t informed of then you can leave. I've got work to get on with."
"Yes. Of course. Wouldn’t want your little sham of a business to miss out on another pound coin in the box," she sneers, walking around the room and inspecting it like she's on fucking pest patrol. She’s on high alert now, her mockery coming thick and fast because I’ve challenged her over Joel. Sophia had been the same. She’d never liked where my loyalties lay when it came to him.
I need her to go. "My next client will be here soon. So, you’d best be off."
“Yes, you’d best, because there’s an awful smell coming from your behind,” Daisy replies, heading right past Lorna and coming to stand beside the treatment bed.
I have to bite the inside of my cheek in order not to laugh. Lorna, however, looks like the invisible smell is beginning to choke her. She’s never like Daisy and had been far from impressed that Sophia used to hang out with her at times, which is probably why her presence had been so intermittent within the group. Picking up her designer handbag that is resting on the windowsill, Lorna hooks it over her forearm as if she’s the queen, bidding a frosty farewell.
I almost sigh in relief at her exit, but when she stops and turns, the words that leave her mouth cause my stomach to knot.
"Oh, one more thing. Your father's party. Shall I be crossing your name off the list?”
God, I want to stab her with a fork.
"There's no need to do that," I say, far too quickly and therefore unable to control what is leaving my mouth.
“I meant what I said, Edith. A date is—”
"I have a date."
Her eyes widen in horror, and the voice in the back of my head screams at me, asking what the hell is going on as it knocks on my brain.
"What?"
"I said I have a date. I'll be at the party." I smile.
She looks at me up and down one more time as if I’m the poison to her evening of entertainment before she tilts her head up high. “I'll believe that when I see it. "
“I just need to know times and dates.” It must be soon as Dad will be officially finished by the end of the month, if not before.
“Very well.” With that, she leaves the room and heads down the stairs, slamming the main door behind her.
I want to scream into the towels because of what I've just said and the added pressure I've put on myself.
“There’s no date is there?” Daisy states, making me look at her.
I shake my head and huff out my frustrations.
“Oh, moo bag. Why the fuck did you say you had?”
“Because I’m an idiot, and I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. I need to find myself a date pronto because the invites are going out.”
“Yeah. Notice you got yours. Not .” She helps me put a fresh towel on the bed before taking off her shoes, hopping up and laying down, ready for me to do her eyebrows.
“What am I going to do, Daze?”
She shrugs. “Stop telling yourself he will say no and ask Joel.”
I want to–I really do–But it’s not fair on him. He’s told Lorna and my dad he needs space, and he won’t get that by going. I won’t put him in a situation he’s not comfortable with.
“I can’t do that. It’s not fair on him.”
I place the headband around her hairline before wiping cool cotton pads over her brows to make sure they are clean.
“Then that leaves me,” she gasps suddenly. “Yes! Can you imagine her face when we walk around the corner with our ‘fuck you’ smiles? That would be priceless.”
I laugh. If only taking Daisy would be an option, but I already know Lorna wouldn’t buy that. She wants me there with a man on my arm, and I know it’s only so she can ridicule me in front of him. I know her game plan, and even though a night of being her target will be uncomfortable and humiliating, a night of not seeing my dad happy and in his element would be even worse.
“As much as I would love that, you can’t.”
“It’s your dad’s party. Where does she get off telling you that you can’t go unless you have a date?”
“She can get away with saying anything. It’s Lorna.”
“Are you ever going to tell your dad how horrible she is to you when he isn’t around? ”
“I believe he knows to some extent. She has her moments, even when he is there.”
“And he doesn’t stick up for you?”
I sigh. “I think he finds it hard. She’s lost her daughter, and he doesn’t want to rock the boat. I think he thinks I’m tough and that it doesn’t bother me.”
“So you need to have a conversation with him then. Tell him how you feel.”
“I just don’t want to put any more stress on him.”
“I know, but she can’t keep getting away with it either. Just think about it. And in the meantime, revert to Plan A and ask Joel.” She tilts her head back to look at me, a wicked grin now on her face. “After the way he was with you on Saturday, I’m sure he will jump at the chance. Don’t think I didn’t notice you two.”
I smile, the butterflies back in my stomach. “What you saw was two friends having a dance. What I saw, however, was you with your tongue down that guy’s throat before going home with him.”
She’d left the rest of us outside the bar and jumped in a taxi with a guy who was hot as hell. She’d walked in the following morning with a shit-eating grin and her lipstick smudged across her face.
“Mate, he was fucking hot. And he had a tongue piercing. I’d fuck anyone with a tongue piercing.”
I laugh. “True. ”
Making sure it’s the right temperature, I dip the thin wooden spatula into the wax and spread a thin line under her brow line. “Bet you can’t remember his name, though.” I tease.
“God. His name was God because that’s all I kept shouting until my voice was no more.”
I burst out laughing. If there’s one person to take your mind off anything it’s Daisy. “Stop. I’m in a dangerous position with wax here.”
“Yeah. I was in some dangerous positions, too.”
“Oh my God! Do you ever stop?”
“He asked me that, too.”
That’s all it takes for me to lose my concentration and have us both laughing out loud whilst she has a wax strip still stuck to her eyebrows.