‘Twinkle, Twinkle. How’s my little star?’ Mum ruffled my hair. ‘Love the new do.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’ She’d just ruined my hairstyle but I couldn’t complain. At least I had a mother.
‘I’ve got something for you.’
Mum slid a glossy coffee table book across my knee. It was called Hair Through the Ages: An Encyclopaedia of Hairstyles from Australopithecus to David Bowie. The cover design featured a montage of various hair celebrities. I immediately recognised David Cassidy, Marilyn Monroe and Telly Savalas. Inside were lots of colour photos and hardly any text. Perfect.
‘It’s perfect, Mum. How did you know?’
‘I could hardly miss the note you left on the table this morning.’
‘Uh-huh.’ I suppressed an urge to ask her where she’d been for the past two nights. It felt too good to be on talking terms.
‘I’m so proud of you, Julian. Hair care is a real career.’
‘With celebrity potential.’
‘And small-screen possibilities.’ Mum laughed. ‘I’ve got some other good news. Jimmy Budge has moved to Hobart. He’s our new trainee manager.’
My mouth went dry.
‘He gave me his number and said you were to call him.’
I tried to swallow but met resistance in the back of my throat. Jimmy was in Hobart. I imagined him downtown drinking a milkshake, trying on trousers, buying fish and chips, driving an Escort. It was the Jimmy from the Wool Board photo, taller and more handsome than the Ulverston version. He was a trainee manager, a shooting star.
The joy I’d been feeling about the Hog evaporated. I saw Jimmy sitting on a pink vinyl seat inside the salon and shuddered. I couldn’t call him. Not yet. I had to get my panache back first. An apprenticeship was three years. By that time I would’ve convinced Dot to repaint the salon.
33
Over the next few months, Mum and I came to an unspoken agreement. I didn’t say anything about her absences and she didn’t mention Dezzie. I still monitored her movements but as long as she kept her outings to twice a week, I wasn’t going to rock the boat. I had a career to consider.
Things were moving along nicely at the Curl Up and Dye. I had graduated from the trough and was now doing all the hair sets at the salon. I still had to wash hair but only the hair of my clients. Dot had taught me the curlers and cone dryer, and once I’d mastered the tint and perm, I was going to start scissor work. I was not only learning a trade but I was also thoroughly enjoying myself. I could wear what I liked and talk to women all day. Without making an effort, I’d lost weight. I still had my bottle tops but if I stuck to ironed shirts or wore jerkins over my T-shirts, no one was the wiser.
Friday was Hair Day for many Hobart ladies. With careful management, a hair set done on the Friday would last the weekend. It was the day I liked to get to the salon early.
I’d turned on the shower and removed my pyjamas when it dawned on me that something was wrong in The Ensuite. I blinked at the bottle of Max Cougar aftershave. Mum didn’t use aftershave. Neither did she own a tartan toilet bag. A shriek escaped from me. My inner sanctum had been breached! I showered quickly and fought my way into my clothes. There had to be a reasonable explanation.
From the kitchen, I could hear someone whistling a Roger Whittaker tune. It was a jaunty whistle, the sort of thing aimed out of car windows at women in high heels. I found the whistler with his back to me working the lever of the toaster. He was shorter and a lot balder than I expected but there was defiance in the way he stood with his legs apart. His clothes were a touch too tucked in for my tastes.
‘Morning!’ I shouted my greeting loud enough for the neighbours to hear.
‘Oh goodness!’ Dezzie spun around and banged his head on the cupboard door. ‘You must be Julian.’
Rubbing his head, he extended his other hand. I let the groper’s hand hang in the air for a second before giving him a powerful squeeze. Dezzie squeaked in surprise.
‘You’re a firm gripper.’
‘I know, Desmond.’ I looked him in the eye without smiling.
‘Call me Dezzie.’
‘Where’s Mum?’
‘She popped out for more butter. I was getting breakfast on before she gets back. Some toast? I do very good buttery toast. It’s my specialty.’ Dezzie raised his eyebrows and smiled.
I stared and gave no response. His old buttery toast routine had no effect on me. ‘You’re not from around here.’
‘Not Echidna Avenue, if that’s what you mean.’
‘I think you know what I mean.’
Dezzie blinked. ‘I’m originally from Devonport.’
‘Sure you are.’
Dezzie had to be lying. Devonport was a stone’s throw from Ulverston. It was too much of a coincidence to be true.
‘You’re a widower.’
‘Yes, sadly. My wife passed away five years ago.’
‘You don’t let the grass grow under your feet.’
‘Sorry?’
‘What did your wife die of, may I ask?’
Dezzie jumped as if he’d been slapped. ‘Cancer.’ His voice was a hollow whisper.
The fly screen flew open. Mum was standing on the back step. ‘I see you two have met.’
‘Dezzie and I were just talking about his wife.’
‘I heard.’ Mum glared at me.
‘I’d better be off. Some of us have work to do.’ I grabbed a piece of Dezzie’s toast and made a move toward the door. I didn’t like the look on Mum’s face or the way Dezzie had managed to turn her against me. He was more cunning than I imagined. I gave him one last hard look.
‘It was a pleasure to meet you.’ Dezzie smiled hesitantly. ‘You must be excited about your uncle.’
‘Uh-uh.’ I had no idea what he was talking about but I wasn’t going to play his silly game of one-upmanship. I shrugged and looked at Mum.
‘Norm’s agreed to be a judge for the hair show.’ Mum still wasn’t smiling.
‘Uh-huh.’
‘I thought you’d be pleased.’
‘I hardly know Norman.’
How could I think about Norman with a home-wrecker in the kitchen? I left the house in a whirl without saying goodbye and started the day on the wrong foot. At the salon, nothing seemed to go right. Hair wouldn’t lift or curl. I dropped things and upset clients. Late in the afternoon, Dot pulled me outside for a smoke.
‘You’re having a bad hair day. What’s on your mind, love?’
‘Mum’s got a boyfriend.’ It sounded stupid. Dezzie was no boy or friend as far as I was concerned. He was a middle-aged conman, a moustache and sideburns away from selling used Holdens. ‘He’s got a tartan toilet bag.’
‘Is he Scotch?’
‘He’s ruining everything.’
‘He must make your Mum feel good. I’m fond of the Bay City Rollers myself.’
‘How can he make her feel good?’
‘She’s come out of an unhappy marriage. This Scotsman probably makes her feel attractive.’
‘But that’s my job.’
‘I’m sure it is, love. Just give it some time.’ Dot’s lips puckered past the filter of her Pall Mall. The tip of the cigarette flared as she sucked in a lungful of mentholated smoke. ‘Let’s get back inside and make a start on the cleaning. I have to nip out for a minute.’
We returned to the salon to find my sister standing next to the cutting chair, tapping her foot impatiently. It had been a while since I’d seen Carmel outside the family setting. I was stunned by her size. She had the arms of Sylvester Stallone and legs like blue-fin tunas.
Carmel said she needed a haircut and needed it fast. A cricket scout for the Tassie team was in town. ‘I’ve got to get this hair out of my eyes.’
Her fringe was shorter than mine and came nowhere near her eyes. Dot sat her down and put a plastic poncho around her neck.
‘Now, love, let’s pretty you up for this scout.’
‘Just a short back and sides, thanks.’ Carmel gav
e Dot a no-nonsense look.
‘I can do something a lot prettier than that.’
‘Have you got clippers?’
‘If you insist.’ Dot pursed her lips and opened the drawer of men’s hairdressing tools. ‘You can lead a horse to water.’
I pulled up a stool next to Carmel as Dot got to work. ‘I met Dezzie today. Slippery as an eel.’
‘You can give the top a buzz as well.’ Carmel winked at Dot and made a slicing motion over her head. ‘Think American Marine.’
‘As I was saying, this Dezzie’s trouble. He whistles at women.’
‘Shorter, above the ears.’
‘You won’t believe where I found his toilet bag this morning.’
Carmel frowned and shook her head. Her gaze shifted from the mirror to the front window. She turned as the door opened. She smiled. ‘G’day, Budgie. Long time no see.’
Cold needles pricked my hairline. I stiffened as they scraped backward along my scalp and down my neck.
The clippers were still buzzing in Dot’s hands when Carmel stood, ripped off the poncho and strode over to the door. ‘Good to see you, mate. I’m just on my way out.’
I swivelled around on my stool and stood on hollow legs as Carmel paid Dot and left the salon.
Dot said something I didn’t hear and then waved a hand in front of my face. ‘I said I’ll be back in half an hour.’
The door closed and I found myself alone with Jimmy Budge. It was the real flesh-and-blood Jimmy and he was standing an arm’s length away. I held in my stomach and tried to calm myself. At least I’d had the sense to choose a big shirt and was wearing my new silver-blue glasses. Jimmy looked like a French sailor on leave. He was dressed in tight jeans and a white-and-blue striped shirt. The shirt had a large collar and capped sleeves. The outfit was smart-casual and looked completely out of place in the tatty pink of the salon.
‘Great little place, Corky.’ Jimmy smiled. ‘I knew you’d do well for yourself.’
‘It’s temporary.’
‘It’s a trade.’
‘A métier.’
‘Just like Vidal Sassoon.’
‘A hair-care celebrity.’
‘You always had panache.’
‘It’s something you’re born with.’
‘That and star quality.’ Jimmy shook his head. ‘I bet you’re brilliant at your job.’
‘I’m getting a reputation. High profile and all that.’
‘I love your haircut.’ Jimmy tilted his head and regarded my hair appreciatively. ‘Mine needs a cut.’
‘No it doesn’t.’ My pulse rate soared. I didn’t like where this was heading. I’d never cut human hair in my life.
‘Come on. There’s no one here.’
I tried to protest but Jimmy wouldn’t listen. He threw Carmel’s poncho around his shoulders and plopped down in the chair.
‘Don’t hold back, Corky.’
Like a condemned man, I took my place behind him and looked at his reflection in the mirror. Just being close to Jimmy made me feel as if I’d grabbed an electric fence. Goose pimples were running riot over my forearms.
‘I think I should just give it a fluff, style it high and bring it forward.’
‘Cut it like yours.’
I couldn’t say yes but neither could I admit that the only hair I’d cut was on a dog’s backside.
‘Come on, Corky. I’ve waited a long time for this.’
I’d waited a long time, too, but not for this. This was all wrong. My hands were shaking violently as I picked up Dot’s comb and scissors. I ran the comb up the back of his hair. Jimmy’s neck came into view and I was struck by its beauty. Before I could control myself my scissor hand had snipped. A finger of hair fell away leaving a hollow in the back of his hair. It looked unnatural, like a crop circle in a perfect field of wheat.
Jimmy smiled. He had no idea that I’d just butchered the back of his head. I tried to repair the damage but didn’t know what I was doing. The circle widened and deepened like the pit of an open-face mine. I was blinking sweat out of my eyes and trying to make sense of it all when I felt Dot gently take the scissors from my hand. I hadn’t heard her enter the salon.
‘Let me do the honours.’ She nudged me aside. ‘I like to do the young men myself.’
I sat down and tried to calm myself. I was shaking all over.
‘Has Julian told you about the Hog?’ Dot had to drive the scissors in close to Jimmy’s scalp to even things up. ‘He can build a skyscraper from a head of hair. He’s a genius.’
Jimmy smiled. My heart beat faster.
‘I’ve just put his name down for the hair show.’ Dot winked at me.
‘As a competitor?’ I looked at the exposed pink skin on the back of Jimmy’s head and shuddered.
‘It’s perfect for you. There’s no cutting or perming. It’s a hairstyle show called the Big and High. They’re saying it’s the Tasmanian Olympics of big hair. Apprentice hair-fluffers from all over the state will be there. So will Dick Dingle and his television cameras. It’s going to be televised live.’
‘Dick Dingle?’ I was stunned.
‘Sounds like a GM Moment, Corky.’ Jimmy had swivelled around in his seat and was smiling at me. ‘I knew you’d end up in Dick Dingle’s lens.’
His confidence in me was alarming. My eyes flicked back to Dot. ‘I don’t know, Dot.’
‘I’ve put you down for the Hog.’ She shook her head in a friendly way. ‘You’ll do us proud.’
Dot unwrapped the poncho and brushed Jimmy down. His neck was bright pink. He’d been shorn like a merino.
‘Well.’ Jimmy ran his hand over the stubble. ‘I suppose I’m a good ambassador for the Wool Board.’
Jimmy didn’t drive a tidy Ford Escort. His car was an old Mazda with a roo bar in the front. We didn’t talk on the way home. I hadn’t seen him for two years and now he was too close for comfort. I could’ve reached out and touched him.
My heart sank as we turned into the driveway. Dezzie’s Cortina was parked in the middle as if it belonged there. I steeled myself. I couldn’t let anyone get the better of me in front of Jimmy, especially not a cocky intruder.
We found Dezzie sitting with Mum in the dinette drinking Chardonnay and eating cubes of cheddar on toothpicks. He jumped to his feet like a host when he saw Jimmy and gave his hand a vigorous shake. To me, he smiled warily without extending his hand. He turned back to Jimmy.
‘Young Budge. I was just telling Colleen about you. You’re making an impression at the Board, our very own rising star of wool and whatnot.’ Dezzie placed glasses in front of us and filled them with Chardonnay. I controlled an urge to scream as he slid the cheese cubes across the table. He was acting as if he owned the place.
‘I’m not the star here.’ Jimmy shrugged and turned to me. ‘Julian’s taking the Hog to the Tasmanian hair Olympics.’
‘Really! You’re entering the Big and High? Norman will be thrilled.’ Mum made a small ‘hooray’ gesture with her fists. ‘Imagine, the two men of my life in the same show!’
I felt something expand in my chest. Mum had said the two men in her life. This was Dezzie’s cue to pack up his toilet bag and leave the premises.
‘Big and High, fancy that.’ Dezzie shook his head in mild disbelief and whistled through his teeth. ‘The Hog doesn’t have anything to do with livestock?’
‘Of course not.’ My voice was high and defensive. Dezzie was ruining a perfectly good moment of triumph. ‘It’s the name of a hairstyle, a very big and high hairstyle.’
‘Shaped like a pig?’
‘It’s a signature name!’ What was the man’s problem? ‘There’s nothing pig about it.’
‘Fascinating.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The world of hair is a mystery to me.’ Dezzie looked taken aback. ‘Wool’s my game.’
‘You can’t compare human hair with merino super fine.’
‘I wouldn’t for a moment.’
‘Hair i
s a métier.’
‘You must be a very talented young man.’
‘Well, yes.’ Something unpleasant was dawning on me. I couldn’t work out what exactly but there was discomfort in the pit of my stomach.
‘Your mum’s very proud of you.’
There it was. My face flushed with the prickly heat of embarrassment. Dezzie was simply being nice. He was probably always nice.
I turned away to hide my confusion and found myself staring at Jimmy’s perfect neck. My face grew hotter. Jimmy was looking at me in a funny way. He stood up, saying he had to go.
It took all my strength to walk him to the car. My legs felt like slabs of petrified wood. My body was aching with affection but my mind was busy thinking over how stupid I’d been. Jimmy probably wanted nothing more to do with me.
‘Well.’ Jimmy flapped his arms against his sides awkwardly.
I could tell he was disappointed. After all these years of waiting, I’d blown it. I’d humiliated myself at the salon and made an even bigger fool of myself with his boss. I had to get the farewell over and done with quickly or I’d explode.
‘See you then.’ I took a step backward.
Jimmy was still looking at me strangely. He didn’t smile.
‘Thanks for the ride home and all that.’
He took a breath as if he was going to say something. I waited for the blow. It wasn’t going to be pleasant.
‘Let’s get together again, Corky.’
‘Really?’ My body felt liquid and insubstantial.
‘I’m going to Ulverston this weekend to see Dad but I could pick you up after work on Monday.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah.’
Before I could react, Jimmy spun away from me and got into his car. I stood still, suspended in the moment, as his car pulled away and the tail-lights disappeared around the corner of Echidna Avenue.
34
I woke up on Monday morning feeling as if I’d won the chook raffle. Jimmy Budge was back in my life and he was bigger and better than ever.
Julian Corkle is a Filthy Liar Page 26