![]() ![]() The thought of getting away and staying in the country sounded really good and Aunt Eileen was a sweet lady always immaculately dressed and mannered. My late fathers sister ran a small shop and post office in a small village she was a little older than my mother and was now in her late sixties, she had recently been ill and had to close her shop for a while she now wanted to reopen but needed some help, mum said that she would love for me to come and stop for a while. I moved back in with my mum for a while but space was very tight and after a few weeks of sleeping on her sofa and trying to find a job my mum came up with a suggestion. The problem was it was all my boyfriends the job was with his firm the flat we shared belonged to the company and when I found him cheating with some else from the office and our relationship broke down, I found my self unable to face him at work so had to resign I also found my self with nowhere to live. I thought I had it all, there I was a 23 year old attractive woman with mid back length auburn hair, a good job, high flying boyfriend and a very desirable London address. ![]() As I sit here I think back to what’s bought me to this point. She puts down the bottle and the lady in the chair starts to get up ‘Oh my it’s almost my turn’. My Aunt has already told me that mrs Hood is doing me a great favour as she doesn’t take on many new clients nowadays, she’s quite a tall almost stern looking women who looks to be in her late sixty’s with tight permed iron grey hair ,wearing a pink nylon overall. ![]() Straight in front of me in this almost square room are two chairs with shelves in front of them fixed to the wall covered with brushes combs and scissors surprisingly there are electric hair clippers hanging from a hook, both chairs have trolleys by them with boxes on them with hair rollers and perm rod of various sizes spilling out, two round mirrors are fixed to the wall and in the seat on the left sits a elderly lady who’s precisely set white hair is being sprayed with old fashioned lacquer in a plastic bottle by the hairdresser. There’s a back wash sink squeezed into the corner with a shower head and black chair. On my left is a row of four hood dryers the seats sag slightly from years of use. I look down at the grey lino on the floor there are worn areas around the chairs and the harsh strip lighting shows how the ageing wall paper is well past its best, the air is thick with the smell of lacquer perm and setting lotion and the thick net curtains covering the window on my right hand side look off white and a bit dusty as if they’ve been up for years. I give my head a slight shake from side to side and watch how my hair moves around me, but not for that much longer.Īunt is sat next to me here to instruct the hairdresser what will be done to me I’m just to nervous to speak. I keep running my fingers through my long hair it feels like silk as I wear it down for one last time, I can see my self in the mirror opposite my hair looks beautiful against the prim white round neck blouse I’m wearing and my navy pleated knee length skirt doesn’t look at all out of place in this salon. My heart is pounding and my stomach is in a tight knot. I’m now sitting in the waiting area of the ‘Gala hair salon’ in a small West Country town. I can’t really believe I am going to do this what am I thinking? All people and locations mentioned in this story are purely ficticous. ![]()
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