Auld Acquaintance

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Auld Acquaintance Page 7

by Ruth Hay


  She sensed the lights being turned up and the music turned down as the aesthetician gently peeled off the mask and finished the session with a make-up lesson consisting of a light foundation over a rich moisturizer and some expert re-touching of eyebrows and lashes that left Anna completely bemused when she saw the final results in the mirror.

  By this point she was so thoroughly relaxed that she was not about to complain when the hair cutting began and the long strands fell to the floor. A razor was deftly applied, a large brush was swept through the newly-bronzed tangle and a number of ‘products’ were applied with the aid of a rapid hair dryer.

  The vision that met Anna’s dazzled gaze at the finale of this performance was in no way recognizable, but at the same time infinitely superior to the sad, old lady who had entered the salon. Floating home on a wave of euphoria Anna wondered what on earth Andrew and the team at the library would say when she appeared in the afternoon. She also determined that if there was no phone call from Scotland she would arrange to see both Maria and Alina that evening before the glory diminished, as who knew what she would find the next morning after laying her head on a pillow for the night.

  * * *

  Maria was busy with a customer when Anna presented herself at the store. She broke into a stream of Italian as soon as she recognized Anna then looked hastily around to see if anyone had understood her expletives.

  “I can’t believe it! You are transformed Anna. Turn around and let me see the full effect. The shorter hair is miraculous! The colour lifts your whole face. I swear you look twenty years younger, cara mia. Come over here into the change room. This new you demands an appropriate style of clothing. I’ll be right back with a selection for madame.”

  With a swish of curtains, Maria vanished and Anna laughed out loud relishing the energy her friend always left in her wake. It was going to be interesting to see what Maria would choose for her now that she was open to a brand new look.

  The first outfit consisted of a brown jacket and pants with a pale gold sweater. Anna had expected something more adventurous but she soon discovered that the clothes she was mentally labelling as ‘dull’ were anything but. The jacket was seamed in such a way as to define her waist and the collar’s proportions framed her face and balanced her shoulders making the slimming pants lengthen her entire body.

  “I am amazed that such a simple outfit can make me look so good” she enthused, as she turned and looked in the mirrors admiring her figure from all angles, “and this dropped waistband is much more comfortable and a style I would never have chosen for myself.”

  “Ah, it’s the tailoring, Anna.” Maria advised. “The colour suits your new hair style and just a touch of pale gold at the neckline throws brightness on to your face. This is a good business outfit but let’s try something more daring for your future travels.”

  Before Anna could protest that future travels were not at all certain, Maria had disappeared through the curtains again for all the world like a genie of the fashion trade, and as Anna surveyed the results of her magic she could only admire her friend’s skills.

  The next outfit was quite unexpected.

  “Oh, I never wear red, Maria, it’s far too bright for me!”

  “Just try it on. I want to see how this shade works for you. The material is uncrushable and has lycra for stretch and it comes with a skirt making it a very useful three piece ensemble with multiple mix-and-match possibilities. The jacket can be worn with a darker skirt or pants if you don’t like too much colour at once. I’ll be back with a couple of blouses.”

  Having heard this impassioned recommendation, Anna could hardly refuse to try the red jacket at least. To her surprise, the comfort outweighed the distasteful colour almost at once. Perhaps it was the stretch feature but it seemed to be the perfect size for Anna’s body and felt immediately like something she had always worn.

  Maria, returning with an armful of tops, sighed with satisfaction. “Just what I thought.

  This is your colour, Anna, and the high-fastening neck works for you. Come out to the daylight and see the difference that makes.”

  Still wearing her brown skirt from the previous outfit, Anna could see the impact of the new jacket. In daylight from the mall’s skylights the red tone was muted to a softer shade. Coral? Flame? Anna did not know how to describe the colour yet she could clearly see how flattering it was. Despite the fact that it had no lining, a feature her mother had always said marked a quality garment, the jacket’s lapels and cuffs were faced with a silvery-grey fabric indicating alternate ways to wear it in different seasons or temperatures.

  “I have no idea the cost of these items, Maria, but I think I’ll take them, along with whatever accessories you choose. I have one request though. Please take a photograph of me wearing the outfits before I decide. I have learned, recently, how deceptive a mirror can be!”

  * * *

  Anna wore the brown suit to work that afternoon and basked in the positive comments from her colleagues and regular customers. Even Tony, web site guru and youngest member of the admin team, was effusive in his praise of the new-look-Anna saying,

  “Bad! I mean cool. Very cool!” with an appreciative nod.

  Andrew seemed satisfied that a make-over was the reason for Anna’s schedule changes so he asked no more questions. She was happy to leave him with this conclusion for the present time.

  Anna found a renewed energy and optimism as she went about the Library’s tasks.

  A shelf unit in the office filled with books that had routing slips in them, received the filing categories that had been awaiting attention for some weeks. She caught sight of her reflection in glass windows as she moved around the Library and was momentarily halted as she realised how improved her appearance now was.

  A late date for a meal in a downtown restaurant with Maria and Alina was accomplished very easily. Alina, a skilled handcraft worker, sold some of her creations in Maria’s store and had a scheduled visit to deliver a batch of crochet scarves in rainbow colours for one of Maria’s displays.

  Anna’s quick call to Alina arranged the restaurant meeting place and Maria was sitting comfortably with Anna in front of the fireplace sipping a nice red chianti when Alina arrived bearing a large, patchwork cloth bag, another of her craft ideas.

  At first, Alina did not recognise the elegant stranger beside Maria but when Anna spoke a greeting she did a double-take and broke into a whoop of delight.

  “Anna! This is wonderful! What a transformation. If I hadn’t seen you a couple of days ago I’d swear you had lost major weight. What have you two been up to?”

  “Come and sit down, Alina. You have scared the waiters with your yelling! We will tell you all about it but you must take some responsibility, you know. By contacting your hair salon and making the appointment you set all this in motion.”

  “Thank you, Anna. It was no trouble at all. But wait! I have the perfect thing to set off your beautiful new suit.” Bending down for a moment, Alina withdrew a long, narrow, silky scarf from the bag at her feet and looped it expertly around Anna’s neck.

  The gold, bronze and silver strands complemented Anna’s outfit and the intertwined hint of turquoise in the scarf added the perfect jolt of colour.

  “Bella! Bellisima!” exclaimed Maria, clapping her hands in delight and offering Alina a glass of wine so they could share a toast.

  “To our dear friend Anna who deserves all the good fortune in the world and who now looks ready to claim it.”

  * * *

  On Wednesday morning Anna awoke and stretched lazily. I feel like the cat that got the cream, she told herself. Despite the busy and exciting day she had on Tuesday, she felt invigorated and ready for the challenge of an early appointment with Bev to discuss financial and banking matters. Even the thought of the amount of cash she had spent the day before could not dampen Anna’s enthusiasm. She rarely spent money on herself and judging from the positive reactions of yesterday, she should be doing so more ofte
n.

  Anna stretched again, burying her head in the soft pillows and then she remembered the new hairdo. Jumping up she fled to the mirror to see what a night’s sleep had done to her

  coiffure.

  The new shorter style seemed intact although somewhat flattened at the back. Anna was afraid to disturb it with a brush or comb so she shook her head vigorously and miraculously it fell into place at once. The bronze strands framed her face and covered her high forehead with a delicate fringe while the effect of cutting off the straggly length seemed to have added much-needed volume to Anna’s hair. It was skilfully cut so as to curve slightly inward at the back of her head and every hair shone like silk.

  “This must be what a good hair cut does,” she lectured the mirror. “Why did I wait so long?” The thought of the maintenance this short style would require whenever she washed her hair did not deter Anna as it might have done in the past.

  “One must suffer to be beautiful, even if it is an expensive inconvenience!” was her final comment to the mirror.

  Some of the glamour of the previous night had disappeared when Anna washed her face so she added a trip to the drugstore to buy cosmetics, to the day’s tasks.

  “I’ll ask one of these gorgeous girls who shows you how to apply products to advise me, then I can arrive at Bev’s in splendour.”

  With this decision made, Anna selected a pair of black pants and a sweater and laid them on her bed with the new carmine jacket. Her black winter boots would look suitable but her old winter coat might need to be replaced soon.

  “I can’t spoil the effect with that worn old coat I bought ten years ago,” she admonished herself, chuckling as she acknowledged the change in perception that had occurred so recently. To counteract the winter coat she chose a pair of splendid silver earrings Susan had given her last Christmas.

  The desk under the living room window revealed stored bank statements and budget records which Anna transferred to a briefcase. With one last admiring check on her appearance she was out the door with a spring in her step that had nothing to do with the season.

  A gusting wind heavily laden with snowflakes met her in the parking lot and the first thought in her head was that a stylish hat might be required when the new winter coat was purchased. Pulling up the coat collar to protect her hairdo, Anna rapidly started the engine to defrost the windshield and quickly cleared the snow from her car.

  The strip mall with a Shopper’s Drug Mart was only a couple of blocks away and there was some covered parking there. The young woman behind the cosmetics counter was more than pleased to advise Anna and was discreet enough to avoid layering products on Anna’s face, electing instead for a few items for ‘senior’ skin that provided a more subtle effect. As a result, Anna happily purchased the creams, blush and mascara that had been demonstrated and promised to return for further instruction if required.

  Heading back to the car she wondered when she had abandoned all but the most basic skin care. Was it when make-up became a high-tech science with multiple choices to be made or when her skin began to age and she despaired of ever looking young and fresh again? Or was it after Richard, when looking in a mirror only reminded her of how rejected and worthless she felt?

  * * *

  Bev’s neat little semi-detached home was in a sub-division on the north side of town.

  As Anna pulled into the driveway behind Bev’s battered blue Volkswagen, she noticed the front porch was swept of snow and the piles of snow at the road had recently been cleared so that exiting cars could more easily see oncoming traffic.

  “Bev’s boys are using their muscles, I see,” she observed.

  Being a single mother to two teens had not been easy for Bev after her husband died on a Canadian peace mission in Bosnia. Anna had met Bev in Susan’s law office when she was setting up education policies for her boys with funds supplied by the armed forces’ insurance.

  The two had struck up a friendship then, recognizing in each other an unspoken, deep sorrow. Anna’s divorce was in process but the raw feelings were still painful. Sympathizing with this devastated young mother helped her to put her own tragedy in proportion and was the beginning of a friendship that had spanned the decade since then.

  Anna had watched James and Eric grow into responsible young men in a society where it was all too easy for kids to go off the rails in pursuit of the fast high and the latest gadgets.

  Bev’s decision to work from home had to be a large part of her family’s success. She was always there when the boys came home from primary school to ask about their day and supervise homework. She welcomed their friends but was a listening ear whenever doors were locked or arguments got out of hand.

  In time, James realized that their standard of living depended on the late hours his mother spent at the computer and he tried to relieve her stress by helping out at home with daily tasks and watching over his younger brother’s progress in high school, vetting his friends in a way Bev could not have managed. It seemed trite to say that James took over his father’s role, but Anna, who had never met Bev’s husband, knew the kind of responsible, caring man he must have been, through watching his sons grow up.

  * * *

  Bev opened the front door before Anna could ring the bell and ushered her into the hallway out of the cold. “I think it’s turning bitter outside,” she said, shivering. “Come in, come in, I have coffee on.”

  It wasn’t until Bev was helping Anna take off her coat, that she recognised the improvements in her friend’s appearance. Over steaming mugs of coffee in Bev’s cozy, bright kitchen, Anna related the events since the Samba group’s evening at her apartment a week before, and Bev was astounded at how fast things were changing in Anna’s life.

  “You know, the one thing I miss about working from home is the chance to sit down for a good old gossip like this. You have really brightened my day already Anna.

  I’m not sure how I can help you at this point but fire away and I’ll do whatever I can.”

  “Well, this is strictly a fact-finding mission, Bev. I just want to know what problems there would be for me if, and it is still very much an ‘if,’ I should decide to take off for Scotland for a few months to see what the situation is there. I don’t know much about banking transfers or what the costs might be. You know my finances better than anyone and I have valued your advice about investments since we met.”

  “Right, I see you have brought current bank statements Anna. Let’s start there and consider the possibilities.”

  The next hour was filled with discussion about accessing Canadian bank accounts from abroad and about how much liquidity Anna’s funds presently had. A number of questions about currency values and international communications emerged which Bev agreed to investigate.

  “My feeling is that you might be best to use the legacy from your parents for this venture,” she concluded. “That would avoid major adjustments to your finances and you could take international money orders with you rather than cash, to accommodate expenses for at least a month or two.”

  Anna felt doubtful about this at first. She had always considered the small endowment from the sale of the family home to be a down payment on the country place she was hoping to buy one day.

  “Look at it this way, Anna. You might have a country house waiting for you in Scotland instead of in Ontario. It’s a sensible way to spend the money and if the idea doesn’t work out you could sell the property and probably realize extra funds from the higher real estate prices in the UK. Either way you can afford to take this risk without endangering your current situation. In fact, I am pleased to see you have spent a little money on yourself recently. You have been a bit too frugal of late.”

  “Bev!” Anna exclaimed in surprise, “I certainly did not expect to hear that advice from you considering the state of the world’s economic climate.”

  “Ah! I have an ulterior motive, my friend. If this plan works out, I will be bringing the boys to visit you. I’ve always wanted to see
Scotland!”

  * * *

  On the drive home, Anna thought about Bev’s comments and began to speculate about how she could accomplish the need to investigate what she thought of as the ‘Helen Mystery’, while arranging a long-overdue holiday for herself and possibly providing a way to thank her friends for the invaluable help they had so freely given in the years since Samba had become her support group.

  “I wonder if the farm house is big enough to accommodate a whole series of visitors?” she asked herself, while mentally calculating what furnishing several bedrooms might cost.

  In this positive frame of mind she arrived back at her apartment intending to fix some lunch and watch daytime trivia television for an hour or so before setting out for her shift in the Library.

  When the phone rang, she assumed it was Bev with the answer to one of the questions they had discussed, and was surprised to hear a male voice instead.

  “Ms. Mason, or may I address you as Anna, as I feel we are acquaintances by now?”

  The polite manner and Scottish accent, reminiscent of her father’s voice, alerted Anna to the identity of the speaker.

  “Certainly, George! I am delighted to hear from you so soon and your timing is perfect. What have you discovered about Helen Dunlop?”

  “I did the research in Edinburgh, as I had suggested to you previously, and, with help from the professionals, I was able to unearth what I believe to be some useful information.”

  In an attempt to hide her impatience at the scholarly manner George always chose to employ whether writing or speaking, Anna encouraged him in as gentle terms as she could manage.

  “Excellent George! What exactly did you find out?”

  “Well, as we suspected, there is a family connection but it is a sad one that goes back to your grandparents’ generation.”

  “Really? I am afraid I know little or nothing about my grandparents. My parents never spoke about them at all and I regret never questioning my mother or father about family.

 

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