The one set of traffic lights in town turned to red. Isla smiled despite herself as an old man sat obediently at the empty crossing in his tiny brown Vauxhall. When the lights turned to green again, he drove off.
There was a rumble as the ferry engine started up, and she stood and watched as the final preparations were made and the boat got on its way. The sign at the harbour gates flashed up in bright letters:
Thank You For Sailing
NEXT BOAT DEPARTS 0645
Isla sighed. The words in front of her were an inescapable reminder. She was trapped here with no means of escape – well, save breaking a bone and being airlifted off in the air ambulance, which from what her Uncle Calum had said, was a pretty hairy way of making your way to the mainland.
Chapter Eleven
The salon was empty of customers. Isla looked up at an unexpected knocking on the glass of the door.
Shannon, too, glanced up briefly from the computer. She gave the impression of working diligently, but Isla had already clocked her shopping for package holidays on a separate web page, flipping the browser back to an ordering site for hairdressing supplies whenever anyone approached. Not quickly enough, Isla had thought. Years of working alongside some of the wiliest girls and boys in the business had taught her every trick in the book. Isla let it slide. Shannon had been making a real effort lately, taking in everything she was told. Both she and Jinny were keen to learn more, rather than spend their days doing the same shampoo and sets over and over again.
Standing behind the glass door, hair plaited into row upon row of tiny, neat braids, was Lily. And thankfully – Isla cast a glance over Lily’s shoulder – no sign of Lucifer the demon offspring.
‘Lily, hello.’ Isla stepped out of the salon, where Lily was standing, one foot twisted round the back of her other leg, her expression anxious.
‘I absolutely don’t want to come in,’ she said, unnecessarily. ‘But I just wanted to give you these –’ she handed Isla a beautiful hand-tied posy of wildflowers and foliage – ‘as an apology for bringing our little visitors to the salon.’
Isla, as ever, had to resist the urge to start scratching her head at the merest mention of head lice. ‘Thanks. You really didn’t have to. It’s all part of the job.’
‘Yes, but you were so lovely, and it was just wonderful to find somewhere where Lucien was able to express himself freely.’
Isla tried to make a sound expressing agreement, but it came out as a muffled snort. Lily appeared not to notice.
‘Anyway, we’ve used the special comb, and I’ve treated both of us with tea tree oil and an infusion of lavender and lemon balm.’ She indicated the flowers. ‘These are rosemary and balsam for cleansing the room aura, and lavender, which is a natural disinfectant, and hawthorn has amazing powers, and I’ve blessed them with a healing spell for positivity and good vibes.’
‘Right.’ Isla looked at the flowers, nonplussed. She sniffed them, recoiling in surprise at the pungent odour of garlic.
‘Wild garlic,’ said Lily, chirpily. ‘Such a powerful cleansing herb. I couldn’t help noticing yesterday that there’s some stuck energy in the salon . . .’ She shook her head, pursing her lips thoughtfully, choosing her words. ‘Well, it needs a little help. This ought to do the trick. Oh!’ Her face lit up, and she pulled a bundle of dried leaves out of her bag. ‘Let me do a smudging ceremony to clear the air!’
A hair salon stinking of garlic and sage was definitely going to create an atmosphere, thought Isla, but maybe not quite the sort Lily was thinking of. She smiled through tight lips, nodding politely and stepping back towards the door. ‘Thanks so much, these look just beautiful.’ That was polite enough. And she didn’t say they smelt it – which, frankly, they didn’t. The longer Isla held them, the stronger the rank raw garlic scent became.
‘Wonderful. Now, I’m having one of our earth healing sessions tomorrow evening at the Clootie Well, if you’d like to join us? I know you’re new here, and it can be challenging making real heart connections. The ceremony will help you to open your heart chakra.’
Isla grasped at straws quickly. ‘Oh, I’d love to,’ she lied, ‘but I’m afraid I’m taking the girls from the salon out tomorrow night.’
Jinny, who, with her usual nosiness, had poked her head round the door behind Isla, gave an excited squeak. ‘You are?’
Isla turned round. She was about to open her mouth to stop Jinny giving the game away, but Jinny had already darted back inside and could be seen hopping from foot to foot, clearly explaining to a dubious-looking Shannon, who was very likely to come out and give the game away.
‘Yes,’ Isla continued as Shannon made her way towards the door. Isla raised her voice a little, enunciating the words clearly enough for them to be heard inside. ‘Yes, I thought it would be nice to take the girls for a drink and a bite to eat to say thank you for making me so welcome.’
Shannon’s face was a picture of confusion. She stepped backwards towards the computer, eyebrows furrowed, shaking her head. Isla, who had mastered the art of lip-reading years back – because making conversation with clients over the sound of a hairdryer was virtually impossible, and they liked to carry on talking all the way through their appointments – saw Shannon forming the words, ‘Aye, you’re not imagining things for once.’ She hid a smile as Jinny gave her a shove in retaliation.
‘Well, if you won’t come tomorrow night, I would very much appreciate your expertise sometime.’
‘I think I’m going to be quite busy, keeping this place going single-handed with my aunt away,’ Isla began. But Lily was determined.
‘Well, yes, but you have two and a half days when the salon is closed, and –’ she lowered her voice again – ‘there’s not that much to do here, between you and me. I mean, obviously silence and alone time are vital for personal growth, but so is spending time in nature. And we have so much of nature up at Meadowview House.’
‘That would be very nice,’ said Isla, politely. She had to get away soon, or she’d be offering to take Jinny and Shannon on an eight-week holiday just to get away from Lily.
‘Excellent.’ Lily peered round Isla at the opening hours listed on the salon door. ‘Shall we say next Sunday? Midday?’
Isla opened her mouth, then closed it again. She nodded, defeated. If she tried to say no, Lily would probably suggest she had some issues coming up with resistance and cast some sort of spell on her at midnight on the moors. It seemed easier to just give in. Maybe Lily would leave her alone after that – or perhaps her attention could be diverted on to Jinny, who definitely had latent hippy tendencies, despite her protests. Shannon had been teasing her just the other day about the crystal necklace she’d tied around her neck.
‘Marvellous,’ Lily beamed, holding her hand to her heart with her eyes closed before opening them again, waving her hand forwards as if her heart was blowing a kiss. The woman was quite mad. ‘Thank Goddess. We’re up at dawn, so any time after that on Sunday will be perfect. Of course, if you feel called to join us before dawn, that’s absolutely fine too.’
Oh, help, thought Isla, stepping back into the salon.
Back at home, Isla sat down on the sofa with a coffee. She had absolutely nothing planned, there was a brand new book downloaded on her Kindle, and the rain was pouring in a comfortingly autumnal manner down the windows. She snuggled down under the crochet blanket her aunt had left her.
The phone buzzed as a Facebook notification flashed up on the screen. The mobile phone reception might be dodgy when you went to the far side of the village, but thankfully here in the middle of Kilmannan it was just fine. The salon’s broadband connection (mainly used by Shannon and Jinny to keep up to date with the gossip pages of the tabloid newspapers) meant Isla felt a bit less isolated – and Helen’s cheerful messages were something she looked forward to each day. It had been lovely getting back in touch after all this time.
Not long to go. You still all set? I spoke to Amira the other day
–
bumped into her at big Tesco. She’s coming if we’re coming.
Safety in numbers . . .
Isla looked at the screen and frowned. There was a tiny, not very kind voice in her head that kept naggingly pointing out that if she turned up for the school reunion with Helen, Amira and – she knew what was coming next, she was just waiting to discover that he’d been unearthed from wherever he’d disappeared off to when they all scattered in relief on the day they got their final exam results – Costas, there was a danger that Isla’s carefully constructed, look-at-my-perfect-existence image was in danger of falling apart. They’d all end up huddled together at the geeky table in one corner whilst the popular gang held court.
Isla typed in a reply:
Oh that’s great news. Hope you’ve managed to get some sleep and Maisie hasn’t had you up all night. We’ve recovered from the nit invasion. No idea how it happened but I ended up saying yes to a morning at her retreat place next week . . . tbh I think it was easier than saying no. It’s amazing how persuasive these people can be.
Helen’s reply came back straight away.
It’s all that positive thinking stuff. She probably brainwashed you when she was having her hair done.
Isla smiled.
I’ll make sure I wear sunglasses when I go up there next week then, to be on the safe side.
God, what was she thinking? It was lovely to have a friend back in her life. If that meant they would be sitting in the geek corner, so be it.
Chapter Twelve
‘Och come on, make a night of it.’
Jinny hopped from foot to foot as she shoved the broom back into the cleaning cupboard. She pushed the door shut, still jigging back and forth to the tunes in her head that kept her running on a perpetual motor, and gave Isla her very best persuading face: begging eyes through a shaggy fringe.
‘Shannon, can you put this appointment in the book for now, and transfer it over once I’ve finished this?’
Isla carried on typing in the last of the stock orders. With Jessie gone, she’d made the executive decision to stop using the harsh products from the bottom of the range – and, knowing she’d have to justify the expense, had encouraged Shannon to start bringing in some of the younger girls from town who normally escaped to Glasgow when they wanted a haircut. The salon had been fully booked all of Thursday, and Friday and Saturday looked like they were going to be chaotic, with girls from town desperate to get in and look their best for the disco in the old Pavilion dance hall that was taking place.
‘I’m going to order an extra box of that intensive conditioning treatment,’ Isla said, tapping the surface of the desk with a nail, thinking aloud.
‘That’s us full for tomorrow afternoon.’ Shannon closed the salon diary with a decisive slam.
‘You’re doing really well.’ Isla looked up. ‘Both of you. Bookings are up, takings are up – and that has to keep Jessie happy about the changes we’ve made.’
‘Yay,’ beamed Jinny. ‘So you’ll stay out for a little drink after we’ve had dinner, then?’
‘One drink after dinner,’ conceded Isla, firmly. ‘We’ve got a really busy day tomorrow – like Shannon just said, we’re fully booked, so it’s going to be all hands on deck, and I don’t want to be late. I’ve got some admin stuff to do too.’
‘One drink.’ Jinny flashed her a bright smile, scooping up her bag. ‘Come on, then. This’ll do until tomorrow.’
Isla shook her head, smiling despite herself. Jinny was irrepressible, a bundle of enthusiasm and energy who never stopped from the moment she arrived (always ten minutes late, always promising that she’d be on time tomorrow) at the salon, until she hurtled out the door last thing, arms full of hair magazines that she studied every night in bed, determined to know everything there was to know about the latest fashions.
‘Shannon, you coming?’
‘Two secs.’ There was a gurgle of water. Shannon – who had at first seemed so resistant to Isla’s insistence on the daily routines that kept a salon running efficiently – was now, boosted by the success she was seeing, taking on board everything Isla could teach her. Isla had watched as she’d begun to take a pride in her work that had previously been missing. Every night now, without fail, Shannon took it upon herself to clean and sterilize all the equipment, and always left the back room spotlessly tidy.
Isla gave her a smile as she appeared, wiping her hands dry on a paper towel.
‘You’re doing a great job.’
Shannon flushed slightly at the compliment. ‘Reckon?’
‘Yes.’ Isla believed in working her staff hard, but she always praised them when recognition was due. Shannon was trying her best, taking time when it was her lunch break to watch Isla at work, asking questions about technique, making a real effort.
They’d started the evening with dinner in the little restaurant on the main street that looked out over the harbour, but it had been pretty clear to Isla that the girls were dying to get out and go for a proper drink. She’d allowed herself to be towed along to the grotty-looking hotel on the corner where Shannon’s current love interest, Rab, (who, she informed them, as per her dating manual, she had no intention of acknowledging) was working.
The hotel bar was empty, save for a couple of American tourists who were sitting poring over a map of the island. They looked up, nodding a greeting.
Jinny and Shannon slipped into the corner, settling themselves down on the faded red velour cushions of the bar sofa, pulling out their phones, catching up with what had been happening online in the half hour since they’d last checked.
‘Two ciders and a gin and tonic, please.’
‘You girls starting early the night?’ The old man behind the bar gave her a knowing smile, cracking open the bottles of cider and clattering ice into glasses.
‘Just an after-work drink to say well done,’ said Isla, crisply.
‘Aye, they all say that, hen.’ He seemed pretty sure of himself. Isla gave him a polite smile, saying nothing.
‘Here’s to us.’ Jinny clinked her glass with Shannon.
‘Wha’s like us?’ Shannon replied, taking a huge mouthful of cider, following it with the kind of belch that would make a teenage boy proud.
‘Gie few, and they’re a’ deid.’ They raised their voices in unison. Isla sipped her gin and tonic and smiled at them politely. Girls in gaggles like this always made her uncomfortable, reminding her of school and being left out and laughed at for having the wrong clothes, the wrong hair, the wrong everything.
‘All right, Isla?’ Jinny looked at her, her heart-shaped face quizzical.
‘Yes, fine,’ Isla tried to sound unconcerned. ‘You girls have done really well this week. I think Jessie will be really impressed when she gets back and sees how you’re getting on.’
‘Y’reckon?’ Shannon looked dubious. She poured the remainder of her cider into the glass, tracing patterns in the condensation that ran down the sides. It was a moment before she spoke, choosing her words carefully. ‘You’ve got far more of a clue about that place than Jessie has.’
Jinny nodded, as open as her friend was guarded. ‘Yeah, we’ve had literally twice as many customers this week as we would’ve had normally. And that’s before everyone gets paid at the end of next week. You’re already booked up for the whole of Friday afternoon, Isla.’
‘Yes, but you’re getting loads better now, Jinny, and when Jessie comes back there’ll be another stylist so you won’t even notice I’m gone.’
‘Aye, and I’ll be demoted to sweeping the floor, it’ll be back to blue rinses and shampoo and sets, and Shannon won’t get a chance to do any of the cool stuff you’ve been showing her.’
Shannon looked at Isla, eyebrows raised in confirmation. ‘You know she’s right.’
‘I’ll have a word with Jessie. I’m sure when she hears how things are going, you’ll be fine.’
Shannon, who’d drained her cider in record time, looked doubtful. ‘We’ll see, I suppose. Another?’
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Isla, who’d only taken a couple of mouthfuls of her drink, shook her head. Jinny nodded with feeling, despite having half a pint of cider still in her glass.
‘If Jessie doesn’t let Shannon do some proper cutting she’s going to end up going off the island to work,’ said Jinny, her usually cheerful face falling as she watched Shannon’s departing back, a flash of a purple dragon tattoo just visible below the torn shoulder of her T-shirt.
‘I thought Shannon loved it here on the island, though?’
‘She does. But there’s nowhere else for her to go. The other salon that opened here closed again after about six months – everyone here is so stuck in their ways – and it’s the only way she’s going to get a chance to do something different.’
‘What about you?’
‘Och, no.’ Jinny shook her head. ‘I can’t leave the island. My mum needs help with Mikey in the mornings, and all my brothers and sisters are here.’
‘How many do you actually have?’ Jinny had mentioned so many of them in passing that Isla hadn’t managed to work out exactly how many family members lived in the big, sprawling house that looked out across the shore to the mainland.
‘Well, you know Mikey. He’s four – he’s autistic, so Mum needs extra help with him. Emmy and Leah are eight – they’re twins – and then there’s Charlotte, she’s eleven, and Philly, Leo and Rowena, who are triplets, and they’re fifteen so they’re a nightmare as you can imagine.’ Jinny shook her head with the maturity and wisdom befitting an old lady of nineteen.
Isla counted on her fingers. ‘Eight of you?’
‘Unless Mum is planning on any more – and you can never tell, it depends on what mood she catches Dad in, and if he’s around.’ Jinny pulled a face.
‘I can’t imagine what it must have been like, growing up with that many brothers and sisters.’ Isla thought back to her solitary childhood, weekends spent wandering around Edinburgh by herself, nights spent making her dad soup and bread after his long night of working shifts in his taxi. She’d read so many stories of huge, rambling families who lived on top of one another, but she’d never met anyone who lived in one. And irrepressible, happy Jinny, who was as easy-going as a labrador, was exactly as she imagined someone from a huge family would be.
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