***
Sophie stared at the receptionist, her voice shaking. “What do you mean she’s not in? She’s always in.” The girl stood behind the reception counter of the hairdressing salon. Thick tiger stripes coloured her brown hair, creating an alternate, edgy look. The girl shook her head, widening her innocent eyes. “She’s just not in. She’s sick today, I’m afraid. You’re just too early on a Friday morning. We could do something with a Senior Stylist later this afternoon.” The girl ran her perfectly manicured nail down her notepad. “Around four o’clock we have space. Or you’ve got me? I’m free right now. I could help.” The girl moved the broom awkwardly from the reception area. She’d been sweeping up cut hair. “Why don’t you let me see?” The girl reached over and took the cap from Sophie’s head.
The girl fondled a strand of hair. “Do you think you can fix it?” Sophie asked and her chest tightened.
The girl nodded, her head bobbing up and down slowly. “I’m only an apprentice. But I can fix it.” The girl’s voice was strong, unwavering, and confident.
How many people, Sophie wondered, came into the hairdresser to get a colour correction? How much experience would an apprentice have with colour correction?
Sophie groaned, shutting her eyes. She might not make Carol’s show if she waited for an appointment with a Senior Stylist. “I’ve got to go to work,” Sophie said. “I’d better get it fixed now.” She followed the apprentice to a chair inside the salon.
She sat down, examining the hairdresser’s reflection in the mirror as she brought over a colour chart and began matching the strands of carrot. This could possibly be an even bigger mistake.
“So you wanted blonde, right?”
“That was the idea.”
“I won’t be able to take you too light.”
“Okay.” Sophie nodded and furrowed her brow as she watched the girl mixing the dye into a bowl. What more could possibly go wrong? Surely there wouldn’t be much to it – a colour chart, chemicals – hairdressing wasn’t rocket science was it? Although, she’d gotten it wrong.
Hours later, she ran a hand through the finished hair. It looked natural, like she’d been visiting the beach every weekend for the past decade. She just needed the tan to go along with it. “You’re going to need some new makeup. Some softer colours, otherwise you’ll feel washed out.” The apprentice lifted a strand of hair. “And you know it’s going to break. The strands are damaged from so much processing. I would recommend I cut a bit of it while we’re here.”
Sophie shrugged looking at her wrist watch. “Do we have time?”
“Don’t you want to look fabulous for Carol’s performance?” The girl had been so easy to talk to. Sophie had found herself telling her about Derek, Bradley, Kelly and even the possible – yet unlikely – date with Matthew. What a hairdresser!
Sophie nodded. “Let’s get you a new look.” The apprentice said, reaching for the scissors.
Chapter 17