by Shari Low
While she was waiting, she pulled her phone out of her bag and called Ken’s house. No answer. Where the bloody hell was the wife? Shouldn’t she be there?
Lila waited until she’d listened to his voice on the answering machine before she hung up. God, she loved him. Even hearing him on a machine turned her on.
The assistant returned with the dress, and Lila paid and left, walking back across the road on her tiptoes so that the spike of her heels didn’t get stuck in the cracks on the road.
She hung the dress up on the hook above the back window of the car, then took a quick snap of it. #tonightsoutfit #beautiful #designer #lilalovescavalli. Post. Immediately the pings started and the number of likes increased by the nanosecond. People loved to see what she was wearing. The designers should really give her stuff for free.
She headed back into the salon, where Suze sat, like a stunning, slightly scary sentry at the door.
‘Ah, you’ve returned. Did you track down your friend?’ Suze asked.
Lila shrugged. ‘Nope, no idea who it was. We had a look at Cammy’s CCTV, but I didn’t recognise her. Probably just someone that follows my fashion and lifestyle advice on social media.’
Suze immediately looked down at something on the desk in front of her – almost as if she was covering up some snide reaction. Another one that was jealous of her, Lila decided. Small talk dispensed with, she cut straight to the point.
‘Cammy and I are going out tonight,’ she chirped, ‘So I’d like something done with my hair and I’m way too tired to do my own make-up. Do you have anyone free.’
Suze checked the screen. ‘Okay, so Rod can do a blow-dry or styling, but I’ve only got Kylie free on make-up.’
‘The young girl who’s still training?’ Lila sneered, as if she was saying ‘the young girl who has fleas, nits, and a suspected case of the plague?’
‘That’s the one,’ Suze confirmed, with the widest fake smile. Lila could spot it a mile away. Took one fake bitch to know another. Suze was still talking. ‘She’s actually great. She did the girl who was in here asking for you and she looked beautiful when she left. Don’t think I’ve seen a more stunning face today.’
Ouch, insult with a sting. Lila would have fired back with an equally subtle but venomous sting if she wasn’t quite aware that she held the worse hand here. If she pissed Suze off, she could quite easily end up going to dinner with hair that looked like she’d been caught in a wind tunnel and disastrous make-up. Although, that might happen anyway if she was getting palmed off to a junior, but at least Rod knew what he was doing. She needed these appointments so was time to suck it up and play nice.
‘Wow, I wish I’d met her. Anyway, Rod and Kylie would be great thanks.’
There was a hesitation, as if Suze was deliberating whether or not to mess up her day, but she clearly decided to take the business. ‘No problem.’ She turned to the shop floor. ‘Kylie, we have another victim for you. Rob, you’re up too. Make this woman beautiful.’
Ouch, another sting. Make her beautiful? She was already fricking beautiful. This time Lila couldn’t resist the urge to purse her lips. Don’t bite back. Do not rise.
Rod, the punkish weirdo who was, despite his awful taste in style and fashion, a genius with hair, appeared at her side and ushered her to a free seat at the centre console. Kylie, pulled a tray of cosmetics over.
‘Okay, so what are we doing today, gorgeous?’ That was more like it. A man that recognised something special when he saw it.
‘I’m thinking maybe big waves, side parting, Cindy Crawford eighties look. Something breathtaking that will make me impossible to resist.’
Rod thought the second part of that request was a little joke. If only he knew.
‘And your make-up?’ Kylie asked.
Lila swallowed her hesitation over letting someone who had only ever washed her hair loose on her face. If it was that bad she could fix it herself in the car.
Lila thought about it. She would be wearing pink, so red, vampish drama would clash. ‘Dark, smoky eyes, nude lip,’ she answered. She’d worn that look at a convention last year and Ken had loved it. He’d had her naked before dessert. Said she reminded him of Kim Basinger. Whoever that was.
The two of them got to work, Rod parting her hair and wrapping it, section by section, in huge rollers. Kylie got her cleaning pads out and started removing the make-up that Lila had been touching up all day. Lila held up her phone and snapped the scene. #glamsquad #bestteam #rockingthe80svibe
She scrolled back up to the last post – over two hundred ‘likes’ already, and tons of comments.
‘Gorgeous!’
‘Sexy’.
‘You’ll be stunning, babe!’
The last one from someone she didn’t know at all. There was that overfamiliarity right there. That thought jolted her back to the stranger that was looking for her.
‘Suze said someone was in here asking for me earlier. A blonde woman. Maybe similar age to me. A north of Scotland accent.’
‘Caro!’ Kylie blurted. ‘Oh, she was lovely. Is she a friend?’
Rod’s firm grip on a large roller he was currently inserting prevented her from shaking her head. ‘No, I’ve no idea who she is. She went next door to Cammy’s shop to ask for me there too. Did she mention me?’
Kylie threw a quizzical look at Rod. ‘I don’t think so, did she?’
‘Nope, not that I heard,’ he said, while holding several grips between his teeth.
‘Did she say anything at all?’ Lila asked. The truth was, she didn’t much care, but she was mildly curious and it passed the time to chat to these two. It wasn’t like she was doing anything else or had anyone else to speak to.
Kylie thought about it for a moment. ‘She said she was a teacher. Down for the day from Aberdeen. Don’t think she’s been to Glasgow much before. Fairly sure when she left here she was going for a train home. She was really nice. Lovely, in fact. My favourite customer today.’
That made Lila bristle again. So this stranger was, so far, one of the most beautiful faces Suze had seen, and Kylie’s favourite customer of the day. Lila hated her already.
Her phone rang, interrupting her irritation, and the office number flashed up once again on her screen. She flicked it to voicemail. Technically, it was after five p.m., so she wasn’t strictly at work, but she still didn’t want to speak to someone at head office with the rumble of hairdryers and the cackle of chat in the background. She’d phone them back on Monday. Whatever it was could wait.
Kylie was focussing on her eyes now, so Lila closed her eyelids, enjoying the excuse to drift off. This would be her life soon. Staying beautiful for her man, just as her mum had done for her whole life. Her dad had taken it for granted, but she’d seen how much effort her mother went to every time he was coming home. And every time, he’d walk into the house, throw a passing smile at his daughter, and then kiss his wife like she was the only woman in the world. That’s what Lila wanted - to feel like she was the only woman in the world. Cammy tried, but he didn’t have the presence, the maturity, to make her feel that way. She wanted a man she could look up to, somebody who really was a man to respect and admire. Her dad had been a management consultant, someone important. Ken was a surgeon. Neither of them ran a shop selling the latest in gents’ thongs. It was a different circle altogether and it was the one that she wanted to live in. The one she belonged in.
She kept her eyes closed, enjoying the solitude of her thoughts, when another realisation dawned. If all went to plan and she left Cammy for Ken, she’d no longer be welcome here. Unfortunate. Suze’s underhand and barely concealed dislike aside, the staff were great and the thirty per cent discount didn’t hurt. On the bright side though, she’d never have to see any of Cammy’s other friends again. No Josie. No Val. No Jen from the shop along the road. No hipster Digby. She wouldn’t miss anything about them at all, especially the look on Cammy’s face when anyone mentioned the girl he used to work with. Mel. Lila didn’t kn
ow much about her – wasn’t interested – and Cammy didn’t like to talk about her. All she knew was that they had a brief thing, it didn’t work out, and Cammy went off to Los Angeles. Mel lived in Italy now, or maybe France. And she was married to… something clicked. ‘Rod how long have you worked here?’ she asked.
‘About eight years.’
‘Did you know Mel who owned the shop next door?’
‘Of course. Yeah. She lives in Italy now. Got married to Josie’s son. The guy who used to be a partner in this place.’
Ah, that was it. Things hadn’t worked out with Cammy and Mel, and she’d married Josie’s son. If that wasn’t weird and incestuous, Lila didn’t know what was. Besides, worse than that, in the only photo Lila had ever seen of the famous ‘Mel’ she looked completely… plain. Unremarkable. She didn’t even have any make-up on. Honestly, some people should learn to make an effort. Anyway, soon she’d be able to put this whole crowd behind her and she’d never have to think about them again. She couldn’t wait.
The noise and heat of the standing dryer that Rod had put over her head must have made her drift off, because the next thing she heard was Rod’s voice saying, ‘Okay, how does that look?’
Lila opened her eyes and immediately scrutinised the image looking back at her. The hair was huge and fabulous. A side parting instead of her usual middle one, then tumbles of gigantic waves falling down over her shoulders, but backcombed at the sides so that they swept out to emphasise her cheekbones.
Grudgingly, she had to admit that Kylie had done a good job on the make-up too. The eyes were a medley of blacks and grey, with just a hint of silver on the upper and lower lids to bring out the blue of her eyes. She’d applied false eyelashes that looked like mascara brushes, thick and sweeping upwards, making her eyes appear even bigger than they were. The cheeks were beautifully contoured and the lips were a pale shade of pink gloss, but subtly outlined into the perfect pout. Not bad. Not bad at all.
In fact, she was ravishing. Ken wouldn’t be able to resist her. Absolutely not. And his wife would see that she couldn’t compete the moment she set eyes on her. She checked her watch. Just after six p.m. She didn’t need to be at the restaurant until eight – that’s if she even went. It would depend on what happened in the next hour.
She’d warned Cammy she had one more appointment, but of course she hadn’t told him the whole truth.
She wasn’t going to a hospital for a meeting with a cardiac surgeon.
She was on her way to deliver some bad news to the wife of the love of her life.
6 p.m. – 8 p.m.
Chapter 21
Caro
The hotel she’d had a gin & tonic in had no rooms available that night, so she’d hit a hotel bookings website looking for a reasonable deal. City centre. Within walking distance of here and the restaurant. What was it called again? Grilled. Yep, walking distance to there.
The restaurant was a couple of miles from where Caro was sitting, and there were a few hotels nearby, most of them well out of her price range. Then she hesitated. Wait a minute, what exactly was her price range? She had money in the bank, and this was, undoubtedly, an exceptional event in her life. The problem was that she just didn’t go in for lavish hotels and expensive nights out, designer clothes or celebrity hangouts. Maybe tonight should be an exception.
This was potentially a seminal day in her life. Besides that, she’d had four gin and tonics and her decision-making skills had gone to crap, so she was giving herself a pass on the sensible choices front.
Before she had the wherewithal to stop herself, she booked a night in the Hilton, twenty minutes walking distance from her current location, twelve minutes walking distance from the restaurant. And because it was a same-day booking, she actually got a rate that wasn’t going to give her sleepless nights when this was over.
After she’d made the booking, she checked out Lila’s recent posts. A pink dress, Roberto Cavalli, for dinner tonight. Bugger. Once again, she was reminded that jeans and Converse were hardly going to match up to the occasion and now it was – dammit, six o’clock. Why hadn’t she done something about it two gin and tonics ago? She already knew the answer. Third drink. Fourth drink. The time had just got away from her and now the shops would be shut. Clearly she hadn’t thought this plan through. She’d brought down a change of clothes in case events had compelled her to stay the night but they consisted of a different top and fresh underwear. Not exactly a sequined cocktail dress that would make her blend in a trendy restaurant.
She went to the concierge in the hotel to beg for help.
‘I need to buy a something to wear for a dinner tonight, but I think I’ve left it too late. Is there anywhere still open?’
The concierge checked his watch. ‘Ah, you’re lucky. Buchanan Galleries closes at nine o’clock – late opening for Christmas. You’re bound to get something there.’
One more drink and she might have pointed out that her mother was in hospital, her father was potentially leading a double life, her suspected half-sister appeared to be a spoiled princess, and she was here on her own – luck clearly wasn’t on her side.
Instead, she thanked him, accepted his directions and left, walking at a speed that was unwise after the consumption of alcohol.
There were crowds of people walking in and out of the Galleries when she got there. The first shop she spotted when she entered was Next. That would do. Hardly Roberto Cavalli, but she was a few hours and several hundred pounds short when it came to matching up to that.
Caro barrelled into the women’s department, and immediately spotted a dress on a mannequin: off the shoulder, calf-length, black and scattered with flowers. It would be totally out of place in her wardrobe. She didn’t do off the shoulder. She didn’t do flowers. She didn’t do tight. But apparently, four gin and tonics did all three, so she tracked down the relevant rail, picked out a size fourteen, then headed off to the shoes department. Ten minutes later she was clutching a pair of sexy high-heeled black suede boots. Nope, she didn’t do those either. Tonight, it would seem, she did. Her final purchase was spotted on the way to the till, a thick black velour cross between a shawl and a cardigan, perfect for wearing over the dress and warm enough that she wouldn’t die of hypothermia.
As she handed over her credit card, she realised that she’d just bought a full outfit in less than fifteen minutes. A record, even for her. Feeling like she could relax a little, she decided to walk to the hotel she would be staying in. She made her way through the hordes of people on Buchanan Street, then turned off as directed by Google Maps on her phone, into St Vincent Street, and then walked right along to the end, until she could see the M8 flyover ahead of her. The hotel was on her left, a tall, striking, modern building made of glass and pale stone.
At reception, she checked in, handed over her credit card and was allocated a room on the executive floor. An upgrade. The first time in her life she’d ever been upgraded and she was on her own with no one to share it with. Even if Todd was here, she could have giggled with him over the price of the pecan nuts in the minibar, and gasp at the incredible view over the city.
Instead, she flopped back on the bed and placed the call he’d told her not to make.
‘Hi, it’s Caro Anderson here, I’m just calling to check in on my mum.’
‘Hi Caro, Gillian said you’d call. She’s left a note to say there’s no change. Your mum has had a comfortable day and I’ve just looked in on her now and she’s absolutely fine.’
She wasn’t. Nothing about her mum was fine.
‘Okay, thanks. I’ll be back tomorrow, but if you need me please call me. I’m actually down in Glasgow, but I’ll have my phone on all night. Could you do me a favour please? Could you tell her I won’t be in tonight? I know she can’t understand, but just in case… I’d hate to think of her waiting for me.’
The voice on the other end of the phone oozed professional compassion. ‘Of course I will. We’ll see you tomorrow, Caro. You enjoy you
r night.’
Caro sighed as she hung up. The nurse clearly thought she was out on the town, not on some absolutely insane wild goose chase that had so far led to not much more than the kind of makeover normally seen on a TV show featuring Gok Wan.
Everything that had happened in the last twelve hours had made her think about her life though. She’d always played it so safe, so sensible. If today had taught her nothing else, it had brought home that there was a big world out there and perhaps she needed to experience a little more of it.
Perhaps.
Right now she’d settle for exploring the identity of the bloke in Lila’s photos. She still wasn’t convinced it was her dad. Yes, they looked alike. Yes, they had the same name, but a double life? Surely that kind of thing couldn’t happen in her world?
There was no denying, though, that it would explain a lot.
Caro pushed herself up, made her way over to the tea tray and flicked the kettle on. She was so rock and roll she was giving up the option of a gin and tonic from the minibar to have a cup of tea and a ginger biscuit. Maybe she was too set in her ways to change after all.
Tea made, she lounged back on the bed. Seven o’clock. She’d decided to get there for seven forty-five, figuring that if Lila was still in the salon, she’d probably show up later than that, and she wanted to get there before them. She had another half an hour or so and she just wanted to close her eyes and think about what was ahead.
Her mind, however, was still stuck in the past, revisiting the weekend that had been a foreshadow of the clouds ahead, when her mum had forgotten her dad was coming home.
He’d greeted them in the same way he always did. A smile for her, then a long kiss for her mother. Some things never changed. Disney movies were full of dads who crouched down, arms wide when they came home from a trip or from work, and all his picture-perfect children ran towards him, gleefully screaming his name.
Their house definitely wasn’t Disney.