Panic started to encroach. Lilith wanted a makeover, sure. But this wasn’t the transformation she had in mind. No way could she carry off green hair. Her pale complexion couldn’t take it for a start – she’d look jaundiced.
She lunged for the door, aiming for a quick getaway, when a woman’s voice said, ‘Are you my eleven-thirty?’
Lilith paused, her hand on the door handle. Stay… or go?
Come on, she told herself, for once in your life take a risk.
She took a deep breath and turned. ‘I am, yes. Lilith Monroe.’
‘Cool.’ The woman came over, a sexy sway to her gait. She was the epitome of glamour. Her hair was bright copper, styled into ringlets and pinned up on one side. She wore a white camisole over a lime-green bra and a tight-fitting canary-yellow skirt.
Like her colleague, her arms and legs were covered in decorative tattoos and were accentuated by a pair of killer heels. ‘You’re Taye’s mate, right?’ She smiled. ‘Can I take your cardigan?’ She snapped her pink bubblegum against her bright red lips as she perused Lilith’s sad knitted cardi complete with baggy elbows. ‘Nice shopping bag,’ she said, as if feeling the need to compliment her client in some way. ‘Bold print.’
Lilith’s insides fluttered, as they always did when someone complimented one of her designs. ‘Thanks, I made it myself.’
The stylist’s perfect eyebrows raised in surprise. ‘You did?’ Her eyes travelled curiously over the rest of Lilith’s drab attire, grey jeans and scuffed trainers. No doubt wondering how someone so plain could create something so colourful and vibrant.
Lilith often wondered the same thing.
Removing her cardigan, she handed it to the stylist, who gestured to a mint-green chair. ‘Take a seat,’ she said, discarding Lilith’s cardi. ‘I’m Ruby. I run this place with my partner, Red.’ She nodded to the other stylist, who looked over and smiled.
Lilith sat down and faced the mirror, which was framed with rows of illuminated spotlights. The bright lighting drained her of all colour. She looked transparent. Positively ghostly.
‘So, what can we do for you today?’ Ruby leant on the back of the chair and studied Lilith’s refection. It was quite intimidating to be scrutinised in such a way.
In contrast to Ruby’s glamorous appearance, Lilith looked like a sad excuse of a woman, with her sallow skin and dull, murky eyes.
But then she reminded herself that’s why she was here. It was time for a reboot.
The last few years caring for her granddad had been torturous. There’d been no let up from the daily worries or struggles of coping with his failing physical health. And no respite from the fear that his Alzheimer’s would result in injury – or worse. When she’d come home from work one day to find him drying washing in the microwave, she’d known full-time care was required. He was no longer safe to be left alone. And without any other family to support her, it was left to her to protect and care for him.
But in doing so, she’d neglected her own needs. Forget personal grooming and regular trips to the hairdressers, she’d barely had time to wash and dress each day. Everything had been put on hold. Her career. Her social life. Her love life. She’d sacrificed it all.
Not that she was complaining. But her situation had changed now. And like it or not, she needed to change with it. Starting with her appearance.
‘I’m not exactly sure what I want,’ she said, meeting Ruby’s gaze in the mirror. ‘I was hoping you could suggest something.’
Ruby smacked her gum. ‘I’m guessing nothing too drastic, right?’
‘If by drastic, you mean dying my hair a primary colour,’ she glanced at the green-haired woman a few seats down, ‘then no. But I was hoping for something a little more… I don’t know, vibrant? Something more defined and less…’ she pointed to her lank hair, ‘insipid?’
Ruby looked mildly intrigued. ‘Are we cutting it today?’
‘Yes, please. I mean, it needs it, right?’
‘Hell, yes.’ Ruby cleared her throat. ‘Sorry, what I meant was, it could definitely do with styling.’
‘You don’t need to worry about offending me. I’m aware my appearance is shocking. Do whatever you think is necessary.’
Ruby smiled. ‘Well, all right then.’
She walked around the chair, viewing Lilith from all angles, lifting her hair and tutting when she saw the state of her split-ends.
‘Okay, so I’m thinking a choppy bob, cut above your shoulders, with long chunky layers to give it body and a sweeping side fringe. You have great bone structure, a heart-shaped face. So cutting your hair below your chin will accentuate your cheek bones and jaw line. At the moment, your features are masked.’ She scraped Lilith’s long hair away from her face. ‘All this needs to go.’
‘Okay. If that’s what you recommend.’
‘Colour-wise, I’m thinking a dark copper base, with a mixture of lighter blonde and chocolate lowlights to add depth and make your eyes stand out.’
‘My eyes?’
‘Warmer tones will make your eyes pop. They’re green, right?’
Lilith nodded.
‘Pretty. And your skin is good.’
‘Are you kidding me? It’s deathly pale.’
‘But it’s clear and even, so you can take a strong hairstyle. The right colour will do wonders for your complexion. Do you wear make-up?’
‘Not usually, but I’ve just bought some new stuff from Boots. My old stuff had virtually dried up.’
Ruby tilted her head. ‘You’re serious about this change, aren’t you?’
‘You sound surprised.’
Ruby shrugged. ‘Most people have decided who they are long before now.’ She reached for a gown and tied it around Lilith’s neck. ‘It’s rare for someone of your age to embrace a big change.’ She began sectioning off Lilith’s hair, securing it with a clip. ‘Not that you’re old, you’re what, mid-twenties?’
‘Twenty-nine.’
‘Right. So by that age, people have normally found their groove. Most people are creatures of habit. We stick to what we know.’ She pointed at herself. ‘Take me, for example. I’ve looked this way since I was fifteen.’
‘You have?’
Ruby nodded. ‘Stuck in my ways. It’s brave of you to want to change. Good for you.’
‘Thanks.’
Ruby patted Lilith’s shoulder. ‘Back in a sec. I need to mix up the colours.’ She sashayed off, blowing a huge bubble of gum and bursting it with one of her pink talons.
Despite the stylist’s encouraging words, the reflection staring back at Lilith in the mirror still looked sullen and morose. No amount of hair colour or make-up was likely to change that.
Not that she was expected to be all happy all the time. She was still grieving. Mourning the loss of her granddad. It would be odd if she didn’t feel sad.
But in truth, she’d been grieving for her granddad long before he’d actually died. Once Alzheimer’s had taken hold, the sense of loss had kicked in.
The wound had been created the first time he couldn’t remember who she was. A wound that had deepened with each stage of deterioration. From losing his ability to talk, to making grunting noises when he watched TV. Finally, he had no longer smiled when she entered a room. It had eaten away at her. Dented her confidence and had affected her ability to cope.
Consequently, when he’d eventually passed away, the first emotion to hit had been relief. His suffering was over. It was only in the weeks that followed that relief had been replaced by grief. A deep ache that refused to shift. And had magnified as she’d packed away his clothes for the charity shop and tried to find a home for all their furniture.
She’d wanted to keep some of her grandparents’ belongings. In particular, their collection of Elvis albums and the old gramophone they’d played them on. But where would she keep them? She had no succession rights to the local authority flat, and although the council had given her six months’ notice to find alternative accommodation, the likelih
ood was she’d end up renting a single room in a shared house somewhere. She doubted her new housemates would welcome a fifty-year-old gramophone.
But parting with her grandparents’ stuff had been hard. Like giving away her past. Her life. Leaving her feeling untethered and unsure what to do next.
She dug out a tissue. Tears still surfaced easily.
Small steps, she told herself. Don’t try to work everything out in one go.
She knew she wanted a more fulfilling career. And that one day she desperately wanted a family of her own. But for now, she needed to concentrate on repairing her self-worth, which had taken a bit of a battering.
Ruby returned pushing a trolley laden with bowls of coloured liquids. ‘So…’ she said, picking up one of the brushes. ‘Can I ask what brought about this desire to reinvent your appearance?’ She removed one of the clips and began pasting on the dye mix. ‘I’m guessing something happened to make you want to change. Break-up? Divorce?’ She paused. ‘You don’t have to divulge, it’s just that being a hairdresser is a bit like being a counsellor. Clients often find it therapeutic to open up about their troubles.’
‘So Taye tells me.’ Lily smiled. Her work colleague was one of life’s ‘sharers’. He divulged everything.
Ruby grinned. ‘I hope he told you how discreet we are? Nothing said inside these four walls ever gets repeated. We never breach confidentiality.’
‘He did tell me that, yes.’
‘Good. It’s very important that our clients know that. Otherwise they’d never open up, and we do love our gossip. Don’t we, Red?’
The other stylist glanced over. ‘Positively thrive on it. Don’t hold back. Otherwise it makes for a very dull day for us.’ She winked at Lilith and returned to finishing her client’s up-do – which was looking very fancy, even if it was green.
‘As I was saying.’ Ruby combed through the colour. ‘It’s a common reaction for women who’ve been cheated on to want to improve their appearance. You know, make the bastard realise what he’s missing, and all that. Which I can totally understand,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘We’ve all been there. Right?’
Actually, Lilith hadn’t. Her broken heart hadn’t been caused by a man. Well, not a man she was romantically involved with.
‘What happened? Catch him in bed with your best friend?’
Lilith shook her head. ‘Nothing so dramatic. My granddad died.’
Ruby sighed. ‘Aw, that’s sad.’
‘He was a big part of my life,’ she said, feeling the need to explain, although why, she wasn’t sure. ‘My mum died when I was four. I was brought up by grandparents. He was my only remaining relative. I’ve spent the last ten years caring for him.’
‘Oh, sweetheart, that sounds grim.’
‘I didn’t mind. I was happy to do it. But it didn’t leave much time for anything else.’ She glanced down at her scuffed trainers. ‘Like buying new clothes, or make-up. I only had my hair cut about once a year, and even then the hairdresser used to come to the flat. She cut my grandma’s hair, so she wasn’t very modern.’
‘Ah, that explains it. Still, you’re here now.’ Ruby wiped a spill of dye from Lilith’s hairline. ‘And look on the bright side. From now on, you can focus on you. The world is your lobster, as my other half would say.’
Lilith laughed.
Ruby tore off a strip of clingfilm and wrapped it around Lilith’s hair. ‘What’s the plan? A new look is a great start. But what next? Travel? Adventure? Excitement?’
‘All of the above, I hope.’
‘Good for you.’ Ruby set the dial on the timer. ‘I’ll check on you in twenty minutes. Cuppa?’
‘Yes, please.’
When Ruby had disappeared out the back, Lilith reached down for her shopping bag.
She’d made the bag the week after the funeral, an effort to occupy the long winter evenings and keep her mind from dwelling. She had hoped that handling the deep rich fabric, embroidered with different-coloured swirls, might cheer her flagging spirits. It hadn’t worked. Not much, anyway.
Everyone had warned her the weeks afterwards would be the hardest. When life had returned to normal for everyone else, the loneliness would kick in. They’d been right. So, she’d turned to the one thing that gave her comfort – sewing.
Her grandma had taught her to sew as a young child. Being a bit of a loner, Lilith had been happy to spend hours in her bedroom making things. Dresses for her dolls. Scarves for her granddad. Even a duvet cover for her bed. She’d progressed to making full-sized clothes when her grandparents had bought her a sewing machine for her ninth birthday. She’d made all sorts of garments, rarely using a pattern, and created a colourful array of bizarre outfits. None of which she’d ever worn – she’d just liked making them.
She left school at sixteen, having won an apprenticeship at Clothing Connexions as a pattern-cutter. The factory was within walking distance of the flat and her grandma had said it would be a good skill to learn. It was hard work and not exactly glamorous, but Lilith’s plan was to apply to fashion college once she’d completed her apprenticeship. After all, if she was going to achieve her dream of becoming a costume designer, she needed to prove herself a skilled seamstress first.
Sadly, her grandma had died shortly after she’d started work. Her granddad hadn’t coped well, and his health had started to deteriorate almost immediately. Lilith’s plans had been put on hold. She simply couldn’t abandon her granddad in his time of need.
So here she was, thirteen years later, and still working in the same clothing factory, for the same draconian boss. No nearer to achieving her dream of becoming a costume designer.
Lilith shook away the thought and opened her shopping bag, taking a moment to admire her brand-spanking-new passport. A shiver of excitement made her skin tingle.
She removed the holiday brochure from her bag and traced her fingers over the picture on the cover. A white sailing boat, cutting through deep blue waters, the sun casting the holidaymakers on deck in a warm glow.
Ruby appeared behind her. ‘Planning a holiday?’
‘All booked,’ she said, still not quite believing she’d taken the plunge. It felt indulgent and reckless. But exciting too. Like a real adventure. ‘I fly out next Saturday. Two weeks in the Caribbean.’
‘Lucky you! Looks amazing.’ Ruby placed a mug of tea on the counter. ‘Girls holiday?’
She shook her head. ‘Just me.’
Ruby startled. ‘You’re going on holiday on your own?’
‘Yes. Is that strange?’
‘Err… I guess not.’ Ruby’s expression indicated it most definitely was. ‘It’s a brave thing to do.’
Was it? She didn’t feel brave. She was just trying to kick-start her life. She hadn’t had a holiday for more than a decade, not since leaving school. And except for that one week in Majorca when she was fifteen, she’d never even been abroad. She was trying to make up for lost time.
And besides, she didn’t have anyone she could go on holiday with. She was close to her work colleagues, Dottie and Taye, but they both had families of their own. They wouldn’t want to holiday with someone from work, would they? And she could hardly invite Mr and Mrs Black from next door.
No, waiting until she’d made new friends and sorted out her career could take months. Years even. Waiting was not an option. It was time to take the plunge – even if she was petrified.
So, she’d used fifteen hundred pounds of the seven thousand pounds her granddad had left her to book the luxury all-inclusive Caribbean holiday. She’d allocated another five hundred pounds for spending money, and for updating her appearance, and then had set aside the rest for relaunching her career when she returned from her holiday.
It was a sound plan. One her granddad would approve of. The right balance between indulgence and planning for the future.
The timer buzzed, making her startle.
Stage one of her makeover was complete.
No turning back now.
/> Chapter Two
Sunday, 7 March
In the decade since becoming a parent, Will Taylor had frequently been shoved headfirst out of his comfort zone and into some pretty excruciating experiences. From dealing with dirty nappies, to toddler tantrums in the supermarket, to being forced to partake in the Dad’s Race at the school sports day. It was all mortifying stuff. But being dressed as Pierrot the Clown, complete with black beret, trouser braces and white face paint, was by far the worst experience so far.
But what else could he do? It was his daughter’s eleventh birthday and she was having a Parisian-themed birthday party.
It wasn’t like his daughter asked for much. In fact, Poppy rarely asked for anything. She was a sweet-natured contented little girl who, compared to some of the girls in her class, was a dream to parent. The fact that she was a little shy was the least of his worries.
The birthday party had been her grandparents’ idea. An effort to persuade their timid granddaughter to socialise more. Poppy had agreed to the party, but on the proviso that it was family only. In the end – thanks to some sweet talking by her adoring cousin, Zac – Poppy had agreed on a compromise. Family, plus three school friends.
Will should have felt relieved. After all, dressed as a clown, he wouldn’t have wanted the whole world to witness his humiliation. But today wasn’t about him. It was about encouraging his beautiful – sometimes shy – little daughter to celebrate her birthday with people, and not spend the day in her bedroom playing with her dolls, as she’d wanted to do.
He rubbed his temple, forgetting he was covered in white face paint.
‘Stop that!’ his sister said, marching over. ‘You’ll smudge your make-up. Honestly, the kids are better behaved than you.’
‘What have I done now? I’m just standing here, minding my own business.’
‘Exactly.’ Gemma glared at him – which would normally be intimidating, but not so much when she was dressed as his sidekick, Columbine. ‘It’s what you haven’t done. Hiding in the corner with your arms folded is hardly setting a positive example to your daughter, is it? We’re supposed to be encouraging her to socialise. She’s not going to come out of her shell if she sees her dad skulking about in the shadows.’
Someone Like You: Escape with this perfect uplifting romance Page 2