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'Mmm. I liked him.'
Gwen was momentarily speechless. 'I don't remember that.' She remembered Gloria telling her effectively the same as Elaine Laing; that she and Cam were from different worlds and had no future together. She'd dropped it in, casually, while reading the cards for something else entirely. Completely oblivious to the effect she was having, as usual.
'Well, I didn't give you any ha.s.sle over boys, did I?' Gloria was saying. 'I let you make your own mistakes. That's called being a supportive mother and I can tell you I didn't learn it from your great-aunt.'
'There's a difference between giving supportive freedom and simply not being interested.'
'And there's a difference between being a teenager and having the right to blame your mother for everything and being thirty-one and responsible for yourself.'
'Wow, Gloria. You sound almost angry there. Better be careful; you're in danger of actually having an emotion.'
'I'm full of emotion, darling. Full of positivity and happy feelings; that's probably why you don't recognise them. You always were a gla.s.s half-empty kind of child.'
'I'm going now,' Gwen said. 'Phone Ruby some time, will you?'
Gwen tried not to feel the emptiness of the house, but it pressed upon her. She pulled on a thick cardigan and hurried out to Nanette, rubbing her arms. She got in automatically, not letting herself think about it. Inside, it was only sensible to start the engine so that the heater would wake up. Then it seemed only natural to buckle her seat belt and reverse out of the drive.
She took the track to the main road slowly, wincing at the pot holes. If she stayed, she should really do something about those. The roads were quiet and she took turnings aimlessly, following small lanes through the countryside around the town. She'd always found driving good for thinking, but now her mind was blank. The motion soothed her, though. The mechanics of clutch-gear-s.h.i.+ft, the ticking of the indicators. Darkness came in quickly and she flipped on her lights.
She'd made the decision unconsciously, but soon found herself on the main road towards Bath. She realised that she was heading towards her sister; that she was actually craving her company. She wasn't going to examine the impulse any further. She wasn't running away, she told herself. Just taking a break from being alone. Just for a little while.
David answered the door in a red-striped ap.r.o.n and reading gla.s.ses. 'She's having her hair done. Not sure when she'll be back, I'm afraid.'
'Which salon? I'll go and keep her company under the drier.'
Gwen drove into the centre of Bath, thanking the parking G.o.ds when she found a free s.p.a.ce in a side street.
The salon was sleek but inviting and, looking through the big front window, Gwen could see Ruby was the last customer. She was talking animatedly with a teeny-tiny woman wearing black.
She pushed the door open before either woman could look up and catch her gawping at them like Charlie Bucket through the chocolate factory gates.
'Gwen?' Ruby's immaculate eyebrows drew together. 'You're here.'
'I came to see you. David told me about your appointment.'
'This is my friend Kim's place.' Ruby indicated the tiny woman who, Gwen couldn't help but notice, was taking a professionally dispa.s.sionate inventory of Gwen's appearance. 'Gwen's my sister,' Ruby said.
'Very nice.' Gwen looked around at the work stations with modern leather chairs, the gleaming display of hair products, and the s.p.a.ce-age light fittings that cast a pleasant, flattering light.
'Kim's finished with me.' Ruby picked up her bag. 'Do you want to go?' She paused. 'Unless you want to get your hair done.'
It was an old joke.
'I'd love to cut your hair,' Kim said earnestly. She reached out and ran a lock through her fingers.
'Don't even bother trying,' Ruby said. 'She won't let you.'
Gwen was going to say something else, but she was caught by her refection in one of the many mirrors. All the flattering light in the world couldn't disguise the horror. Her usually pale skin was greenish, and the dark shadows underneath her eyes stood out, which didn't help, but her hair sat lank against her head. The natural wave just made it look messy and the centre parting she'd been sporting since primary school looked old-fas.h.i.+oned and middle-aged. 'Why didn't you tell me?'
'What?' Ruby said.
'That I look like c.r.a.p.'
'I always tell you that,' Ruby said.
'I'm serious.' Gwen took a step towards the mirror. And jeans. When was the last time she'd worn anything except jeans? 'I look knackered and my clothes are boring and my hair is awful.'
Ruby came and stood next to her. 'Your hair isn't that bad. It's in beautiful condition.'
'Cam said I look the same and I thought he was being flattering. I mean, no one looks the same at eighteen and thirty-one, but he was right. I look the same, only older.'
'And that's bad why?'
Gwen thought about the forwards-backwards dance she and Cam had been executing and said, 'It can't be helping.'
'I could tidy up the ends for you.' Kim had her head on one side, considering. 'But a short cut would look really good. You've got the face shape for it.' Kim turned to Ruby. 'Hasn't she, Rubes?'
'I can't afford it,' Gwen said. 'Sorry.'
Ruby said, 'I'll pay.'
At the same time, Kim said, 'On the house.'
They looked at each other and laughed.
'That's very kind,' Gwen said, liking the feeling that it was a foregone conclusion. That a decision had been taken out of her hands.
She took a deep breath and sat down in the nearest chair. 'I want a total change.'
'Are you sure?' Kim said, combing and beginning to section her hair.
'I want a fresh start.'
Ruby rolled her eyes. 'It's only hair.'
Gwen fixed Ruby's eye in the mirror. 'Stop acting cool. I know you've been dying for me to beautify.'
Ruby flashed her a wide grin. 'This is true. Next we can do make-up.'
'No, thank you,' Gwen said. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about the dancing scissors and falling hair.
Kim asked her questions about her life and Gwen answered. It would've seemed ungrateful not to and Kim had clearly slipped into professional small talk out of habit. Ruby sat on a leather sofa with a magazine and Gwen could hear the pages flipping, so she told Kim about Curious Notions and her shadow boxes and tried not to put herself down. By the time Kim told her to open her eyes, she felt as if knots of tension had slipped undone. Maybe there was something in this pampering lark, after all.
She looked in the mirror. 'b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l.'
'Don't you like it?' Kim looked anxious. Ruby appeared in the mirror and gave her a thumbs-up.
Gwen put her hand to her neck and touched the bare skin. She turned her head to the side. 'It's great,' Gwen said automatically. It was definitely different.
'You'll need to blow-dry it to make it sit like this,' Kim said.
'Uh-huh.' Gwen wasn't even sure she owned a hairdryer.
'But if you don't, it'll still look good. Just softer and your curls will come back.'
'I like my curls,' Gwen said.
'I know.' Ruby was smiling at her in the mirror. 'Me, too.'
'Thank you,' Gwen said, squinting at the new, sleek Gwen in mirror. 'I feel sick, but in a good way.'
'Lovely,' Kim said. 'I could put that on my next advert.'
Gwen drove the long way back to End House, taking the road through the centre of Pendleford. The street lights were on and flood lamps lit the beautiful architecture of the church and the town bridge. She watched people on the pavements, bundled up in coats against the cold, and the stone fish poised on top of the round house. Its mouth was open, as if it were about to speak to her.
Still feeling the same kind of dreaminess she'd felt all day, Gwen followed the road back to End House. As she crested the rise, the house came into view. She'd left the lights on in the hallway and the kitchen, and the stained gla.s.s above the front door was illuminated. The green checked curtains at the kitchen window weren't shut properly and a vertical slice of electric light shone out into the darkness.
Gwen pulled into the driveway and sat for a moment, looking at the stone building with its messy and forbidding garden and missing roof tiles and felt an ache in her solar plexus so strong it made her double over, her head brus.h.i.+ng the steering wheel. She felt as if she'd just come home.
Ruby called on Friday to say that she'd spoken to someone at Bath's craft market and there had been a late cancellation. 'It's a really good one. Loads of rich people in Bath. More money than sense; I bet you'd sell a ton.'
'Thank you,' Gwen said.
'I didn't mean it that way,' Ruby said quickly.
'No, that's fine. Thank you. Really.' Gwen put the phone down, feeling slightly dazed at the interest Ruby was taking.
She was even more surprised on Sat.u.r.day morning, when Ruby and Katie arrived at the house before the Pendleford craft market. Katie was fizzing with excitement. 'We brought you something. A present.'
'It's for work,' Ruby said, 'don't get too excited.'
'I've got to go soon,' Gwen said. She'd packed Nanette and was just filling a flask with coffee.
'We decided you need a new look.' Katie thrust a carrier bag across. 'To go with your stall.'
'No one is looking at me,' Gwen said, more crossly than she had intended.
'You're a one-woman company. You're part of the brand,' Ruby said. 'It's like...you wouldn't go to a hairdresser who had rubbish hair.'
'Mum's right,' Katie said, earning a stunned look from Ruby. 'You don't look right at the moment.' She held her hands up as if framing a photograph. 'It jars.'
'Thank you, oh, favourite niece of mine. Remind me not to bake you any more cupcakes.'
'I'm not being mean. You look fine for everyday stuff like going to the supermarket or whatever.'
'Not helping,' Gwen said.
'But you've got to look like you wear this stuff. Like it's part of your life,' Katie said, her brow crinkled.
'It is part of my life,' Gwen said.
'Exactly.' Katie's frown cleared as if she'd won the argument. Her forehead smoothed out like plasticine. Youth.
'Don't even try and argue with her. She's stubborn,' Ruby said.
'Well, I wonder where she gets that from,' Gwen muttered.
'Dad,' Katie said.
At the same time, Ruby said, 'Her father.' And then they laughed.
Which would've been a beautiful family moment if they weren't conspiring to get her out of her beloved jeans. Gwen opened the bag and looked inside. Something very red and floral was inside. Her heart sank.
'It's a dress. I wanted to get a prom dress but Mum said you'd never wear it.'
'She was dead right.'
'So it's a tea dress. Look, it's perfect.' Katie said with all the certainty of a fourteen- year-old.
Gwen pulled it from the bag and held it up. 'Is it made from a pair of curtains?'
'No. It's beautiful,' Katie said severely. 'It's made from angel's hair and b.u.t.terfly wings and ... and ... beauty!'
Gwen laughed despite herself. 'Fine, fine. I'll try on the d.a.m.n dress.' She made a show of stomping upstairs, making Katie and Ruby tut .
The dress was a bit long, but it fitted well on the bust and cinched in her waist. She had a quick look in the full length mirror in Iris's wardrobe and tried not to wince. At least the sleeves were long.
Back downstairs, Ruby and Katie considered her. Ruby tipped her head to one side and put a finger to her lips. 'Not bad at all.'
'It's an improvement,' Katie said. 'You'll need some heels, though.'
'I'm not standing in heels all day,' Gwen said.
'No pain, no gain,' Ruby said. She produced a pair of red shoes from her handbag.
'Oh, Christ,' Gwen said and squeezed them on.
'You know, it didn't strike me as weird until Katie said something, but don't you think it's odd?'
The seams of the dress were cutting into Gwen's side and the shoes pinched. She felt hot and bothered and slightly ridiculous. 'What?'
'You sell all that gorgeous stuff,' Ruby said, 'and none of it's for you.'
Gwen stared dumbly at her sister. It wasn't just that she was right or that Gwen had no idea why that was. Do I think so little of myself? But it was that Ruby had called something of hers 'gorgeous'.
'Have you started using eBay yet?' Katie asked. She had a vintage feather boa draped around her neck and was twirling one end.
'It's on my list,' Gwen a.s.sured her. 'Thanks for the dress and the shoes and the...you know...a.s.sa.s.sination of my fas.h.i.+on sense, but I'm afraid I have to go.'