Disenchanted

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Disenchanted Page 4

by Heide Goody


  Chapter Two

  The first part of the hen party fun was to be beauty treatments in a boutique spa located in one of the affluent small towns near to Solihull. The taxi dropped Ella in front of a building on the high street that looked more like a chic champagne bar than a spa. When she went inside, she discovered that it did indeed feature a champagne bar, where Petunia and Lily were poring over a menu of shiatsu and tsubo therapy treatments with Myra. The three of them wore floral cocktail dresses and high heels. Petunia and Lily still had vestiges of the chemical burns they had inflicted on their own faces earlier. Myra wore the cat-that-got-the-double cream look of a very happy fifty-something living it up like a woman half her age.

  Ella felt the weight of their judgement as they all looked up and took in her sensible, possible-murder-fleeing outfit.

  “Evening everyone,” she said.

  “Ah, here she is,” said Myra. “Little Miss ‘it’s what’s inside the cake that counts’.”

  “What are you wearing?” asked Lily.

  “Clothes,” said Ella. “I did say.”

  She decided not to mention that this particular outfit had been picked out for her by a dwarf who was probably now in the middle of sorting out her sock drawer.

  “So pleased you’ve come to join us,” said Myra, patting a stool to the side of her. “Petunia and Lily were just telling me about some of these treatments. We all want to look and feel our best for the big day, don’t we?”

  Myra, sipped her neon coloured cocktail and indicated to an attendant that she should bring one for Ella.

  “They’ve got the latest Scan2Beauty machine here,” said Lily. “This is one of the first places in the country to get one, I can’t wait to try it.”

  “And that would be?” said Ella.

  “Well, the first part is the scanner,” said Petunia. “You put your face in, and it scans it. Then it shows a three-dimensional model of your face on the screen while it runs through its libraries. It’s programmed with lots of science —”

  “Science, huh?” said Ella.

  “Yes, about how faces are supposed to look, and celebrity faces and things.”

  “I want to be Kiera Knightly!” said Lily, jigging with excitement, “or Eva Green!”

  “How faces are supposed to look?” said Ella, not liking the sound of that.

  “Don’t worry, dear,” said Myra. “Even your face has some earthy charm to it. My looks have always been compared to Raquel Welch or a young Julie Christie.”

  “I tried to read one of her books once,” said Lily. “I think the butler did it.”

  “Once it’s analysed your face, and you’ve answered its questions, it recommends the best possible makeup for you,” said Petunia. “Even better, you put your face back in and it applies the makeup for you, with an airbrush.”

  “Remarkable,” said Myra. “I simply cannot wait.”

  Ella had her nails buffed, which was forty minutes of her life she spent marvelling at the human capacity for building industries around unnecessary services. It seemed that so many things could be done to her nails, many of which were miniature works of art. Why were people happy to pay for art that they would destroy in a matter of days, when artists were struggling to find work? Would Picasso be working in a nail bar if he started out today?

  Lily and Petunia had undergone some of the more unpleasant sounding treatments, and both now sported circular welts across their arms from the Ventosa hot cup which really didn’t look all that therapeutic. Myra had opted for a full body massage, although she rejected the first two masseuses on the grounds that they were female, insisting that she needed a masculine energy if she were to get the most out of the experience.

  “That was most exhilarating,” she said when she emerged. “I’m a firm believer in enhancing one’s touch sensitivity at every opportunity. I want to give Gavin a night to remember on our wedding night.”

  Ella wasn’t all that keen to hear Myra’s plans for pleasuring her father, and was glad when a woman wearing a white tunic led them through to the Scan2Beauty treatment room.

  “Good evening ladies, I’m Mindy and I will be setting up the Scan2Beauty machine for you to use. Now, you’ve all read the literature and signed the disclaimer?”

  They nodded as Mindy handed a packet of wipes around.

  “It will be best if you remove your makeup, so that the machine can get a better reading,” she said.

  Ella took a wipe and whisked it across her face. Myra, Petunia and Lily each grabbed a handful and started to scrub away at what appeared to be quite a significant covering. Mindy found them another packet and asked Ella to step forward to be first at the machine.

  “I’ll run through the first one with you and then leave you to it,” she said. “It’s really very simple, the machine will guide you. Right Ella, put your face here and press this green button to start things off.”

  Ella framed her face inside the moulded oval face rest and found that it wasn’t as uncomfortable as it looked. She pressed the button.

  “Scan commencing,” a robotic female voice informed her. There was a whining sound as something moved in the base of the machine.

  “Please maintain your position for twenty seconds,” said the voice, and then counted down as Ella was aware of a small light flickering below her face.

  “Processing results,” said the voice. “When prompted, please speak into the microphone to your left and the voice recognition unit will analyse your answers.”

  Ella saw the microphone as Mindy pointed it out.

  “Facial analysis complete. Your score is nine point five out of ten. The horizontal symmetry of your face is almost ideal, the ratio of your face length to face width is almost ideal. There is a slight imbalance between your mouth width and nose width. The celebrity that you most resemble is Audrey Hepburn. Would you like me to correct any imbalances when I apply your makeup?”

  “Yes!” yelled Lily, before Ella had a chance to reply. She was mildly annoyed, but then she’d signed up for this.

  She put her face back on the rest when asked and the machine told her when to blink and breath for a few minutes, then told her that she could raise her head and look in the mirror.

  She looked up and was surprised to see that she really liked the effect. She touched her face. The machine had tinkered with the line of her lips, but the effect was subtle.

  “Wow, Ella, you look really amazing,” said Petunia.

  “We’re all going to look amazing!” said Myra. “Now who’s going next? I think we can manage this, thank you, Mindy.”

  Mindy left while Lily settled into position in front of the machine. She winked at Petunia and scrabbled in her bag for a piece of paper.

  “We found some information on an online forum,” she explained. “You can override the normal settings and customise your look.” She addressed the machine with the microphone. “Machine test sequence five-five-fifty.”

  “Engineer access granted,” said the machine. “Test mode engaged. All functions accessible through voice commands. Scan commencing.”

  Lily was silent throughout the scan and then the machine announced the results.

  “Facial analysis complete. Your score is six point one out of ten. The horizontal symmetry of your face is imbalanced, the ratio of your face length to face width is imbalanced. Would you like me to correct any imbalances when I apply your makeup?”

  “Override coverage,” said Lily, reading from the paper.

  “Set coverage level,” said the machine.

  “Maximum,” said Lily. “Override celebrity target.”

  “Name celebrity,” said the machine.

  “Eva Green.”

  “Retrieving facial images,” said the machine. “Please return your face to the rest.”

  A few minutes later, the machine announced that she could raise her head.

  “Test complete. Coverage maximum, celebrity image Steve McQueen.”

  Ella wasn’t sure whether she w
as the only one who heard the machine correctly, as Petunia and Myra were busily making cooing noises as they examined Lily’s face. Ella marvelled at the way that she really did resemble an incredibly over made up Steve McQueen. Pantomime dames would have balked at the look, but Lily grinned proudly at them all and handed Petunia the piece of paper as she took her turn in the seat. Lily went to fetch more cocktails.

  Petunia set the machine into test mode and scanned her face. Ella thought that she was pouting throughout, although it was hard to see properly.

  “Facial analysis complete. Your score is six point nine out of ten. The horizontal symmetry of your face is imbalanced, the ratio of your face length to face width is imbalanced. Would you like me to correct any imbalances when I apply your makeup?”

  “Override coverage,” said Petunia.

  “Set coverage level.”

  “Maximum. Override celebrity target.”

  “Name celebrity.”

  “Liv Tyler.”

  Ella suppressed a grin as she realised what must surely happen next. She managed to emit a gentle cough at the crucial moment as the machine spoke up again.

  “Test complete. Coverage maximum, celebrity image Steve Tyler.”

  Petunia beamed at them all as Lily came back in with the cocktails. The face of the Aerosmith frontman was etched upon hers, complete with an authentic set of wrinkles.

  “Cocktails, lovely!” said Ella brightly, keen to draw attention away from Petunia who was peering into a mirror with a confused look on her face. “Now it’s your turn Myra.”

  “I think I might let the machine work with its default settings.” Myra settled into place and started the scan. “You girls have got the skin tone to experiment, I prefer a classic look.”

  “Facial analysis complete. Your score is eight point four out of ten. The horizontal symmetry of your face is almost ideal, the ratio of your face length to face width is imbalanced. There is a large imbalance between your mouth width and nose width. The celebrity that you most resemble is Julie Christie.”

  “Told you!” yelled Myra victoriously from within the machine.

  “Would you like me to correct any imbalances when I apply your makeup?” said the machine.

  “Yes,” said Myra.

  The machine started to apply her makeup. Petunia was poring over her phone, and showing something to Lily.

  “Look, you can browse all of the different settings and celebrities. Shall we try it?”

  “You’re supposed to do it at the start,” said Lily.

  “It’s a smart machine, it will figure it out,” said Petunia, and then she leaned over the microphone. “Override browse.”

  “Overriding brows,” said the machine, and one of the small hissing noises that accompanied the air brush got noticeably louder.

  “What did you do?” shouted Myra, turning her head.

  The hissing stopped and Myra lifted away from the machine. It had clearly given her eyebrows everything it had. Because she moved her head while it was doing so, the machine had continued the eyebrow across the top of her nose. She now sported a luxurious monobrow which gave her the look of a slightly perplexed hawk. Myra gazed into a mirror and seemed to be weighing up whether she liked it or not.

  “Bring me that cocktail menu,” she said. “If I can’t fix my face then I need to fix everybody else’s eyesight.”

  Ella laughed in an effort to convince herself that Myra was joking.

  “Oh, as an eight point four, I think I can withstand a little make-up malfunction,” said Myra. “What was yours, dear? Five point five?”

  “Five point five,” Ella agreed.

  Myra’s gaze stayed on her a little too long.

  Mirrors nightclub, despite its low lighting and thumping tunes, couldn’t avoid feeling like a parochial dancehall in the dying days of the dance-round-your-handbag nightclubs. True to its name, the walls were almost entirely lined with mirrors. This was perhaps meant to give the little club an enhanced sense of space but, in truth, made it feel like a cross between the set for a bad 80s sci-fi film and a stage on the Crystal Maze.

  Myra danced provocatively with a group of attentive younger men. At some point she’d scrubbed out the middle of her monobrow, so she was left with the expression of an angry goblin, but these men were either attracted to goblins or too drunk to care.

  Ella occupied a booth, trying to conduct a conversation with Lily and Petunia. It wasn’t easy, given the loud music. And they were all now feeling the effects of several mojitos. And conducting a conversation with Lily and Petunia was difficult at the best of times.

  “So, which one do you fancy?” said Petunia.

  “What?” said Ella.

  Lilly waggled her hand towards the blokes on the dance floor, her long painted nails flashing like blades.

  “Oh,” said Ella and looked at them. She couldn’t focus on them properly and not just because of the mojitos. “I don’t know. That one?”

  “Which one?”

  “Honestly?” she said. “I’m not that into men at the minute.”

  Petunia and Lily shared a knowing look.

  “What?” said Ella.

  “Flat sensible shoes,” said the others in unison.

  Ella slapped the nearest of them on the shoulder.

  “No, I’m not into women either. Look, I like men it’s just there are more important things in life. Taking care of dad. The business. A healthy bank balance.”

  “Shopping,” said Lily.

  “Clothes,” said Petunia.

  “Hair.”

  “Nails.”

  “Makeup.”

  “Girly nights out.”

  “Girly nights in.”

  “X Factor on the telly, a box of chocolate truffles and new products to try out,” said Petunia.

  “Bliss,” agreed Lily.

  “Right,” said Ella. “So which of your products sell best at the garden centre? Will the customers there try new things?”

  “Oh no,” said Lily. “They know what they like and they stick to it. Our biggest seller is lavender hand cream, or anything that looks like a fancy gift for ladies.”

  “We always ask them to try different things though,” said Petunia, but some of them don’t even know what a décolletage is, never mind that they might want to put cream on it.”

  “Customers can be so difficult,” nodded Ella, “and it doesn’t help when dwarfs come and mess things up for you.”

  “Surely you mean persons of reduced stature?” said Lily. “I don’t think we’re supposed to call them dwarfs.”

  “Yeah, dwarfs of reduced stature. With coloured hats and beards,” said Ella.

  “Oh you mean Disney dwarfs,” said Lily. “I think it’s probably all right to call those ones dwarfs.”

  “Why would they be messing things up?” said Petunia, confused.

  “Have you not seen them?” said Ella with a drunkenly cavalier manner. “They’re all over the bloody place. In my office, in the water features, hiding in my pantry or my bedroom.”

  “You have Bashful, Grumpy and Dopey in your bedroom?” giggled Lily.

  “Actually, that’s the last three men I had in my bedroom,” said Petunia.

  “No,” insisted Ella. “These ones have got even more stupid names. I’ve met Windy, OCD, Shitfaced and Psycho.”

  “Ella! Those names are much too rude, and there’s only four of them,” said Petunia. “There’s meant to be seven.”

  “Well I’ve only met four so far but I bet the other three are lying in wait somewhere. They’ll pop out on me when I least expect it, in the loos or something.”

  Out on the dance floor, Myra ran her hand down a pretty boy’s face in tipsy farewell, staggered back over to the table and sat down with an ‘oof’ of exhaustion.

  “Oh, the spirit is willing but the old ticker is a bit knackered. I need a drink.”

  “Glass of water?” said Petunia.

  “I’ll disinherit you if you dare. I want a Sex on
the Beach.”

  “Then I’ll have a Slow Comfortable Screw Against the Wall,” said Petunia, getting up with her purse.

  “I’ve always fancied having a man take me roughly in a back alley,” said Lily.

  “We’re still talking cocktails, right?” said Myra.

  “Cocktail?” said Lily.

  “Help me carry the drinks,” said Petunia and dragged her away.

  Myra fanned her face. “I’m having the best night, Ella.”

  “Can I remind you that you are marrying my dad in eleven days’ time?”

  Myra laughed and looked back at the young men on the dance floor.

  “What? Them? I’m just having a bit of fun. Your dad knows exactly what he’s getting into. Nothing wrong with flirting with the cutest guy at the school dance.” She smiled. “Of course, back then, Gavin Hannaford was the cutest guy at the school dance.”

  “Not sure I want to know,” said Ella.

  “Nothing to tell back then,” said Myra. “Gavin was like a brother to me. I found it very frustrating. But I was friends with your mum, Natalie, too. Natalie Thorn she was back then.”

  “Did you ever meet my mother’s family?” asked Ella.

  “I met her parents. Her dad only briefly. And that was all before you were born. But then I did go with Natalie once to Rushy Glen.”

  “You did? I barely remember my grandma.”

  “Oh, this was in the seventies. Your Granny Rose was something of an acquired taste, if I’m honest. One of those Great British eccentrics.”

  Ella frowned. “I remember her being lovely.”

  “I’m sure she was. But I was nearly an adult when I met her. Children see things differently to adults, don’t they?”

  Myra’s gaze drifted away. Ella turned to follow it. Myra was staring into one of the many mirrors that lined the venue. Myra’s eyes flicked from her own reflection to Ella’s and back again.

  “The magic of childhood gives way to the dull day-to-day of adulthood. Charm and glamour fade. That sweet and kooky woman reveals herself to be as lost and bitter as the rest of us.”

 

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