Grand Hotel III – Evolving the Changes

Continuing the saga of the formidable Ms Pinch’s transformation of “The Grand”, recounted by regular hotel guest, Julia Parker. Ms Pinch had discovered Julia illicitly socialising with the hotel’s barber, Samuel Bates, in his barbershop. With the hotel staff Embracing the Changes, For the Greater Good, Ms Pinch spots an excellent opportunity to significantly widen the scope of those changes …

Prologue

Since returning to The Grand for the first time in a couple of weeks, the magnitude of all the changes had astounded me. Most apparent was the formal appearance and rigid behaviour of all the staff. With their tightly buttoned uniforms and identical short haircuts, they had lost their individuality. There was a noticeable air of resigned acceptance of the changes amongst the staff that was sad and disappointing to experience.

I had learnt that my boyfriend, Samuel Bates, a traditional gentlemen’s barber who worked at The Grand was instrumental in the female staff receiving their smart, but ridiculously short, bowlcuts. Samuel had always told me that he preferred women to have long hair and had actively discouraged them entering his barbershop. He had repeatedly admired my long hair, and I was struggling to understand why he had felt the need to transform his colleagues in such a hideous manner.

One morning, having made my way to Samuel’s barbershop in The Grand’s Atrium, I had insisted that he explain himself, but we were repeatedly interrupted. Although I had learnt that Ms Pinch, the newly appointed General Manager, had instigated all the changes, I had yet to learn why my poor Samuel had become involved.

However, it had become clear that all the staff feared Ms Pinch and were worried about their future employment at The Grand. Samuel, it seemed was more concerned than anyone. Or, I began to wonder, was his uncharacteristic behaviour driven by other qualities exhibited by that woman.

I had covertly witnessed Samuel performing one of his diabolical haircuts on poor Jasmine, the young receptionist. Consequently, I needed to understand what was happening but, as he began to explain, we had been subject to a further interruption … but this time by the legendary Ms Pinch herself!

Charade

A peculiar heaviness suddenly filled the air as Ms Pinch strode from the Atrium into The Grand Barbershop, her heels clattering on the tiled floor. She halted uncomfortably close to me, arms crossed over her immaculate dark suit. Her exceedingly short black hair emphasised her pointed features, while her piercing eyes locked onto mine.

‘May I help you, Madam?’ the intimidating General Manager asked me politely but with no warmth in her voice. She ignored Samuel.

Ms Pinch had overheard to my exasperated shout of her name, arising from my discovery that she was behind all the peculiar changes at the hotel since my last visit. Based on all the evidence, I had had no desire to meet her, let alone talk to her. Besides, I was a guest of her hotel so had nothing to fear. However, niggling at the back of my mind, was Samuel’s strange warning to be careful.

Ms Pinch’s threatening manner had instantly angered me but, unusually for me, her authoritative tone had put me on the defensive straight away. ‘I… I, er …’

‘I see,’ she smirked. ‘It would seem that I am not able to help you,’ she smirked, before turning her full attention to Samuel Bates, the hotel’s resident barber.

Before Ms Pinch had arrived, Samuel and I had been discussing whether our relationship should continue in the light of his changed behaviour and the strange events occurring at the hotel. Despite my strong feelings for Samuel – feelings that I had believed he reciprocated – we had not reached any conclusions.

‘Mr Bates,’ she barked, ‘I assume you recall the rule about socialising with guests staying at The Grand?’

‘Yes, Ms Pinch,’ he responded subserviently, chin lowered. I struggled to believe this meek person was my Samuel.

‘Really?’ she questioned, raising the pitch of her voice. ‘Then, please may I ask you to explain why you are furtively chatting with a female guest – during the working day, I might add – in The Grand Barbershop? A hairdressing establishment for gentlemen, you may recall?’

He stuttered. ‘I… I, er …’

‘So, Mr Bates, it would seem that you cannot explain,’ the odious woman sneered ominously. ‘I see …’

I was extremely disappointed with Samuel’s unwillingness to stand up for himself. His meek display intensified my concerns about our relationship, but I still wanted the opportunity to see if it could prosper. Consequently, however misguided, I still felt extremely protective towards him and his business.

The malevolent Ms Pinch had clearly taken pleasure in humiliating Samuel in front of me. However, doing so in front of a guest was unprofessional, and her uncaring attitude had incensed me. With the prospect of her robbing Samuel of his pride and his livelihood, I could not simply stand by.

‘Excuse me, Madam!’ I stated haughtily, using the assertive tone that I normally reserved for difficult business clients.

I imagined that she was unused to people standing up to her, so I was pleased to see that she looked alarmed at my abrupt interjection. She even backed away a couple of steps before trying to regain the upper hand. ‘No, you -’

‘I do not know who you are,’ I sneered. ‘But I am a guest at this hotel, and I was consulting with this gentleman about my hair,’ I lied, patting my sleek and fulsome bun for effect. ‘He is, after all, a hairdresser!’

‘Oh, were you now? Were you, indeed?’ Ms Pinch acknowledged suspiciously, skewering me with her piercing dark eyes. Inside, I felt myself wilting, but I steeled myself not to let it show. ‘For your information, I am Ms Pinch, the newly appointed General Manager, and, as such, I am Mr Bates’ boss, and -’

‘Er, excuse me, Ms Pinch?’ Samuel timidly interrupted.

‘Silence, Bates!’ she spat, but held my gaze. ‘From the size of your massive bun, I imagine it has been many years since you were last in a barbershop asking for a short back and sides,’ she smirked, a glint of triumph in her eyes.

I felt I should respond. ‘Yes, but … I, er …’

With a look of triumph at having silenced me, Ms Pinch spun on her heels to face Samuel once more, wagging a finger in his face. ‘This is a very grave matter, Mr Bates. A very grave matter indeed,’ she growled, lowering her voice and slowly shaking her head. ‘A matter that will have very serious repercussions, and one which we will review later,’ she warned, ‘as soon as you have finished your assignation … sorry, I meant your “consultation”’, she corrected mockingly, ‘with our esteemed guest.’

Given the look of horror on Samuel’s face and his earlier concerns about the future of his barbershop, I concluded from Ms Pinch’s words that his livelihood was in the balance. If so, the primary factor influencing her decision would have been her discovering me in his shop. Consequently, if Ms Pinch decided I was socialising with Samuel, he would blame me for the loss of his premises and his livelihood. I decided that I needed to redress the balance. In my profession, it was necessary to think quickly on my feet, so I invoked those skills to alleviate the situation.

‘Ms Pinch, would you please listen’ I snapped, wagging my finger threateningly for effect. ‘This afternoon, I have an exceedingly important business meeting, and I must look my absolute best. I am staying at your hotel, away from my home, so I am unable to visit my regular salon. Furthermore, I do not have time to find, then travel to, a suitable salon in this town. Therefore, I wondered if Mr Bates would be able to assist me, despite not being one of his typical clients. Isn’t that right, Sam… er, Mr Bates?’

‘Er, yes, quite right,’ he smiled broadly, clearly grateful for my interjection and support.

‘I see,’ Ms Pinch drawled suspiciously, adding her irritating smirk. ‘Well, Madam, I am pleased to inform you that Mr Bates has recently increased his experience of styling women’s hair. So, he will find the task of assisting you neither difficult nor arduous,’ she explained. Spinning on her heels, and facing Samuel, she went on. ‘Isn’t that correct, Mr Bates?’

‘That’s correct, Ms Pinch,’ he confirmed, bowing slightly towards her. Then, raising his head and looking directly at me, he gestured towards his chair. ‘Please take a seat, Madam.’

I sensed a modest victory for us against the odious woman. Having cleared the air with Samuel, I cherished the moment when Ms Pinch would leave, allowing us to continue our conversation. However, before she left, I realised I had to continue playing along with the charade we had set up to fool her. Then, once she had gone, convinced by my reason for being there, Samuel and I could arrange a place to meet away from the hotel. It felt satisfying that our plan was coming together.

‘Thank you, Mr Bates,’ I acknowledged, feeling unaccountably nervous as I perched on his large barber’s chair, despite us only play-acting to kill time.

As the woman gave no sign that she was about to leave, I turned to face her. ‘Thank you for your intervention, Ms Pinch, that will be all,’ I said haughtily, resorting to my familiar authoritative tone. ‘I would now like to continue my consultation with Mr Bates,’ I added, waving a hand dismissively.

Professionally, I imagined Ms Pinch and I were two of a kind. She looked affronted as, with arms still crossed, she stood her ground, sizing me up. It was as if we were a pair of boxers in the ring. Feeling I was ahead on points, I did not back down and stared her out until she got the message.

Ms Pinch slowly nodded, as if acknowledging me winning the battle, forced a reluctant smile. However, frustratingly, she showed no sign of moving.

‘That will be all,’ I repeated, glowering in her direction.

‘Actually,’ Ms Pinch drawled, ‘I have decided that I would like to see Mr Bates apply his recently improved ladies’ hairdressing skills for the benefit of one of our guests. His expertise with the women,’ she smirked, ‘may provide The Grand with a valuable extra income stream. Furthermore, with the premises used more often, it may even avoid the need for The Grand Barbershop to close.’

‘Oh …’ I said, having had the wind taken from sails, my nervousness increasing. Much as I liked Samuel, I did not want him trimming my hair in front of another woman. ‘I, er … oh …’

‘However, Madam, if you are not completely happy with the service provided by Mr Bates, or if I judge his work to be unsatisfactory in any way whatsoever, then it will certainly be the end of The Grand Barbershop.’

Ms Pinch leant back against the wall, just to one side of where I sat, and faced me. She crossed her arms and sneered in my direction. ‘You may begin, Mr Bates,’ she ordered.

Cunningly, Ms Pinch had called our bluff. Samuel and I looked anxiously at each other, both unsure what we should do next.

Samuel made up his mind first. ‘Certainly, Ms Pinch,’ he accepted, flicking open a large white haircutting cape and draping it over me.

With a sheepish grin, Samuel secured the cape around my neck and jerkily raised the chair into the air. High off the ground, under the large cape, I felt extremely vulnerable. That sensation increased as I looked in the mirror and saw just my head, with the hair piled above, peeking above the cape. My feeling of helplessness heightened when Samuel, standing behind me, began to unpin my hair.

‘Samuel, what are you going to do?’ I whispered, as quietly as I could, when Ms Pinch’s phone momentarily distracted her.

‘I need to keep my job for the benefit of both of us, so we can be together,’ he quietly and carefully explained, taking furtive glances in Ms Pinch’s direction.

That sounded reasonable, I thought, and it was what I wanted. But it did not answer my immediate concern. ‘Samuel …?’ I whined.

Ms Pinch lowered her phone and renewed her interest in proceedings.

‘Julia, I will do what needs to be done,’ he murmured, patting me gently on the shoulder.

Pretence

‘Speak up!’ Ms Pinch snapped as she put her phone away. ‘I cannot abide whispering!’

‘Sorry, Ms Pinch,’ we chorused. As a guest rather than employee, I was angry that I had reacted to her abrupt tone in the same way as Samuel.

Samuel busied himself by unravelling my hair. Unfamiliar with my hairstyle, he took a considerable time to find and remove the assorted ironmongery securing my updo. Obviously, once he had removed all the scaffolding, my hair remained stiff and unpliable. Its unfortunate texture was the result of all the essential styling products that were necessary to keep my hair rigidly in place throughout the working day. Owing to the length and thickness of my hair, copious quantities of these products were necessary to maintain its sleek appearance.

As Samuel continued releasing my hair, he clumsily allowed it to slip between his fingers, and it began to unfurl of its own accord. Around and around, the ponytail spun, dipping over my left shoulder, circling my breast, with the ends finally plunging into my lap with a resounding thump.

‘Oh, my goodness!’ Samuel exclaimed, a familiar retort from the few people I had permitted to see my hair in its unconstrained glory. ‘Jul- er, Madam, I would never have imagined it was quite so long, lustrous, and lovely.’

I allowed myself a smug grin at Samuel’s reflection in the mirror, revelling in his praise. Then I turned to face Ms Pinch, my arrogant expression mocking her stark cropped hair.

‘Quite ridiculous,’ I heard Ms Pinch grumble under her breath, shaking her head with undisguised disapproval. ‘Right, Mr Bates, you know exactly what to do,’ she hissed commandingly.

Her tone made me feel distinctly uncomfortable. ‘What does she mean about you knowing what to do?’ I whispered anxiously, turning my head slightly to disguise the airing of my concerns.

‘Silence!’ Ms Pinch snapped.

‘Sorry,’ I childishly reacted, mentally chastising myself for apologising to her once again.

Samuel gently shook his head with a forbidding stare, providing me with an unambiguous signal that I should remain silent. Carefully undoing my ponytail, he carefully arranged my hair so that it fell evenly down the back of the chair. He began to gently brush it through from my crown to the ends, much as I did each evening. The action reduced the build-up of styling products, removed any tangles, and increased the shine.

‘Lovely,’ he breathed softly, fortunately out of the earshot of Ms Pinch.

Samuel was so tender and, once we had had overcome this sticky patch in our relationship, I eagerly looked forward to him performing this sensual task on a regular basis. Just like me, he seemed enjoyably preoccupied.

‘Mr Bates!’ Ms Pinch admonished, clearly not experiencing the same satisfaction as we were.

I contemplated telling her to shut up and go away so that we could indulge our pleasurable activity without disturbance. However, as Ms Pinch showed no sign of leaving, I accepted that we still had to persevere with the charade to protect Samuel’s interests.

‘Sorry, Ms Pinch,’ he grovelled once more.

Once Samuel had brushed my hair, I felt completely relaxed. With my eyes closed and half asleep, I barely registered his exchange with Ms Pinch.

I did not see him put down the soothing hairbrush.

Nor did I see him pick up a huge pair of scissors!

Reality

The first I knew of the large scissors was when I heard an unfamiliar but insistent shnick, shnick, shnicking noise coming from behind me. Accompanying the staccato rhythm, was a gentler swishing sound akin to a delicate silky material rustling in the breeze.

My eyes popped open in alarm. And, in the mirror, I saw Samuel standing behind me. He was looking down, concentrating intently on a point at the back of my head, the unidentified clicking sound continuing. As I stared, I saw the glint of metal appearing from behind me, guided by his steady hand.

Monstrous large scissors had, unseen by me, replaced the hairbrush that he had so lovingly run through my hair seconds earlier. The blades were inexorably chomping through the length of my hair, level with my neck. In horror, I saw my treasured locks sliding past my shoulders and tumbling down my back. I could hear my tresses swishing through the air before striking the floor with a resounding plop.

After Samuel’s soothing and relaxing brushing of my tresses, I prayed that I was still daydreaming. If not, then based on the information gathered by my clamouring senses, I was suffering my worst ever nightmare.

Mercifully the clicking sounds finally came to a halt, and I hoped my terrified speculation was unfounded. Shaking nervously, I watched Samuel put down the monstrous scissors on the shelf below the mirror, feeling momentarily relieved. Then he carefully untucked the hair from behind each of my ears, and a silky curtain glided forward on each side of my face. A terrifyingly short curtain of hair, as the ends barely reached my chin.

‘Wha … what have you done, Samuel?’ I stuttered, barely able to force out the words, bewildered by the unbelievable evidence I was seeing in the mirror.

He giggled sheepishly before kneeling behind me, rummaging on the floor, and brandished a thick hank of hair that I recognised as my own. ‘This!’ he regaled me triumphantly, holding it up to its full length. ‘This what I have done,’ he went on, looking unaccountably pleased by his treacherous action. ‘I cut all this off!’

‘And you are looking much better already, Madam, if you don’t mind me saying,’ Ms Pinch gloated, running a hand through her severe brush-like crop. ‘Don’t worry, Mr Bates is well on his way to having you looking nice and smart for your presentation this afternoon.’

I contemplated how Samuel and I could have allowed the awful woman to manipulate us so easily and so disastrously. ‘No, no, Ms Pinch, that was just an exc -’

‘An excuse for your presence here, were you about to say, Madam?’ Ms Pinch interjected, her voice like thunder, reacting to any suggestion that we had been trying to fool her about my presence.

‘No, no, Ms Pinch,’ Samuel quickly interjected. ‘I believe the guest was remarking about it being an excellent start,’ he cleverly hedged, although he appeared quite untroubled by the drastic loss of my hair. Indeed, he was almost manic in his delight when waving my cut hair in front of me.

‘That’s very satisfying to hear that, Madam,’ the General Manager smirked. ‘Well, Mr Bates, you must continue! We cannot leave an esteemed guest of The Grand only half cut.’

‘Samuel …?’ I pleaded shakily, agreeing with her sentiment but praying for Samuel to offer an alternative. Unfortunately, I was running out of ideas of what to say, but I did not think it unreasonable to be involved in their conversation about my appearance. Sadly, with Samuel having already gone as far as he had, I imagined he would continue following the odious woman’s her instructions.

‘Don’t worry, Madam,’ Samuel said reassuringly, ‘I’ll just even it all up, so you will look nice and neat, and then you can be on your way.’

Although I did not feel in the least reassured, I accepted I had no other choice than to allow him to continue. ‘Thank you,’ I sighed, through gritted teeth, consoling myself with the thought it could not get any worse.

However, I could not have been more wrong!

The jarring, buzzing sound that had gone with Samuel’s trimming of young Jasmine’s hair earlier, suddenly filled the shop once again.

In the mirror I observed Samuel brandishing the hairclippers, a determined grimace colouring his features. ‘That’s right, Madam,’ he dispassionately urged, applying pressure to the back of my head. ‘Head down, please.’

Inevitability

‘Samuel!’ I squeaked in alarm, as he confidently and forcefully pivoted my head downwards, my vision filled with a view of my lap and little more. ‘Samuel!’ I repeated more urgently, but I suspected the clamorous noise emanating from his fearsome device in his hand was drowning my entreaties. That, or he was simply unmoved by my fear.

‘Don’t worry, Madam,’ he urged, lightly chuckling, ‘I’ll just even it up for you.’

Then, without hesitation, I felt him drive the sharp blade of the hairclippers into my uneven bobbed locks that covered my neck. I noted that he did not use the capabilities of the hairclippers to shave my hair as he done with Jasmine earlier. Instead, I felt the blade digging into my scalp and guessed that he was establishing a guideline for where to cut next. Confirming my supposition, ringlet-like snippets of hair began tumbling over my shoulders and, before my eyes, plopped down into my lap like coiled springs.

Samuel enthusiastically redirected my head, raising my chin so that I was staring straight into the mirror. Then, with practiced skill, he edged the blade around my head at precisely the same level as he done at the back. His action culminated with the blade resting against my forehead, having created a blunt fringe above my eyebrows that was the same abbreviated length as the rest of my hair. Never having had a fringe before, it not only looked most peculiar but drew attention to my staring eyes that were wide with shock.

‘Oh, that looks charming, Madam,’ Ms Pinch smirked. ‘Very nice and neat. You must be delighted!’

Wholeheartedly disagreeing with the woman, I wanted to look away from the mirror and beseech Samuel to stop. However, I found myself transfixed by the awful sight of my pudding bowl hair perched on my crown. Furthermore, my throat had gone dry, and I was barely able to speak.

‘Samuel …’ I managed to squeak, as he adjusted his hold of the hairclippers before turning them on once more.

‘Thank you, Ms Pinch,’ Samuel said smugly. ‘Yes, doesn’t she look delightful,’ Samuel agreed, unmoved my pleading. ‘Don’t worry, Madam,’ he said, with that increasingly irritating light chuckle, ‘I’ll just even it up for you.’

Without further comment, he demonstrated his stated intention by “levelling” all the hair around my ears down to a dark shadow of fine bristles. And I presumed he had done the same along my neck and up the back of my head. The sound was horrendous even if the insistent vibration of the hairclippers against my scalp was not entirely unpleasant.

‘There!’ Samuel announced after ceasing his relentless clippering, smiling at me in the mirror, his expression coaxing me to look pleased. But I was not pleased at all!

‘Yes, very neat and tidy, Mr Bates,’ Ms Pinch conceded, ‘despite the style not following my newly issued standards. I recall that just before I popped in here, I saw young Jasmine’s upgraded version,’ she related wistfully, ‘and the young lady looked quite charming. Well done, Mr Bates.’

‘Thank you, Ms Pinch,’ Samuel simpered, gleefully soaking up her praise. My wrath was close to boiling over. Once that odious woman left us alone, I mentally prepared myself to wipe the soppy expression from his features. ‘Actually, Ms Pinch, I would be happy to upgrade Madam’s style to the new standard exemplified by Jasmine, if you think it appropriate?’

I recollected Samuel shaving the back and sides of poor Jasmine’s head. I quivered violently at the prospect of him even considering doing the same to me. ‘Samuel!’ I hissed.

Ms Pinch caught my eye in the mirror, and she chuckled at my quiet reprimand. ‘Yes, Mr Bates, I think it is entirely proper that our esteemed guests should always expect the highest standards from us. Please proceed in the manner you have indicated.’

‘Certainly, Ms Pinch,’ Samuel agreed, his eyes lighting up as he retrieved the foil shaver he had used on Jasmine earlier. I wondered if his joyful anticipation arose from the desire to please the repulsive woman or the anticipation of seeing me half bald. Whatever the cause, his increasingly smug expression would not last long once the two of us were alone!

Without further comment, Samuel began shaving the pelt-like shadow around my left ear. He quickly sheared off the fine bristles, leaving behind just pristine white skin. He repeated the exercise over my right ear. And, although I was unable to see, I felt him comprehensively shaving my neck and the back of my head down to baldness.

‘There we are, Madam,’ Samuel self-assuredly announced, as he stood back and proudly waved Ms Pinch forward to inspect his work.

‘Very neat and tidy,’ the detestable woman praised, running a finger over my bald nape to verify its smoothness. Then she amused herself by flicking the glossy cap of hair perched on my head, watching it fall neatly back into place. ‘You will certainly look most professional for your presentation this afternoon, Madam. I trust you are satisfied?’

My lips were sealed, reserving my increasing anger for Samuel. I cast a withering look in his direction, a gesture noticed by Ms Pinch who smirked at each of us in turn.

‘Excellent, I am so pleased that you like your new hairstyle, Madam,’ she pressed, appearing amused by my silent acceptance.

Realisation

I accepted that I had been foolish.

In retrospect, I could not understand why I had not stopped Samuel from chopping off the bulk of my hair. And then allowing him to shave the majority of what remained all the way down to the skin.

When Ms Pinch discovered us, I had pretended I was there to consult him on a hairdressing matter. By doing so, I assumed we would appease Ms Pinch’s concerns about him socialising with guests and she would soon be on her way. As she would have had no cause for complaint, Samuel’s livelihood would not be under threat, and the way would be clear for us to discuss our future together.

However, Ms Pinch had called our bluff. Rather than Samuel admitting our deception, he went ahead and gave me an unwanted haircut to justify my presence. He had not shown any compassion when cutting off my long hair. Worse still, despite previously telling me that he preferred women to have long hair, he appeared to relish cutting mine and seeing me with a ridiculously short haircut.

Although Samuel’s actions had originated from my desire to spend time alone with him, my yearning for that outcome had waned. I felt something had shifted in our relationship. The appointment of Ms Pinch as the new General Manager had, not surprisingly, unsettled him. But I sensed something else. The way Samuel had meekly fawned to the wishes of the odious woman, appeared to hint at a growing attraction between them.

Mulling the recent events over in my mind, I came to the sudden and startling realisation that I was jealous!

Consequence

‘Most Satisfactory, Mr Bates,’ Ms Pinch preened. ‘I wonder if we might continue to justify your presence at The Grand, by promoting your services to all our female guests.’

‘By all means, Ms Pinch,’ Samuel simpered, nodding his head eagerly. ‘Modestly priced short haircuts would certainly be a valuable service for our guests and financially beneficial for The Grand.’

‘Modest, Bates?’ she snapped. ‘I will establish the pricing.’

‘Yes, of course, Ms Pinch,’ he winced, backtracking weakly in a way that was painful to observe. ‘It would significantly improve the overall ambience of the hotel for all the female guests to have neat and tidy hair that matched that of the staff?’ he stated, expounding a ridiculous notion in a desperate attempt to regain favour.

Ms Pinch nodded, smirking at his subservience, although her condescending reaction appeared lost on Samuel.

‘I wonder if we could insist all female guests should have short hair?’ he pressed, sounding enthusiastically sincere and leaving me worrying for his sanity.

Ms Pinch chuckled. ‘That may be going a little too far … even for me, Bates. But you could hang around in reception when you’re not cutting hair and, when guests register, encourage them to visit you during their stay,’ she teased.

‘An excellent proposal, Ms Pinch,’ Samuel acknowledged, accepting her humorous suggestion at face value. ‘I will ask Jasmine to prepare promotional material for the receptionists to distribute to all our guests when they arrive.’

Ms Pinch gave a curt nod towards Samuel. I suspected she remained silent to avoid laughing.

She turned to stare at my ridiculous haircut, allowing a tight smile to grace her lips.

‘Excellent,’ the odious woman declared. ‘Carry on, Bates,’ she ordered, waving a hand in a mock salute, like a general addressing her troops.

I fought an overwhelming desire to return her salute, and I could have sworn that Samuel began raising his hand.

Ms Pinch spun around on the spot and then marched off, the clicking of her heels fading away in the distance.

Denouement

‘Piece of cake,’ Samuel chuckled, patting his chest to demonstrate his relief at her departure. However, it did not escape my attention that his eyes had followed every step of her departing form. Nor did I miss his gentle sigh, once that he disguised by a fake cough to clear his throat. ‘I thought we were in trouble there for a while, Julia …’

I stared at him in disbelief. ‘We were in trouble!’ I shrieked, astonished by his casual acceptance at destroying my hair. ‘I am in trouble!’ I cried, stabbing a finger at his preposterous creation that perched on my head.

‘Well, you look quite nice … er, actually,’ he said, studying me closely, as if noticing my changed my appearance for the first time.

‘Quite nice!’ I cried, desperation lacing my frustrated tone. Quite nice!’

‘Yes,’ he shrugged, ‘and just to remove any doubt, Julia, I won’t be charging you for your haircut,’ he quipped.

‘No charge!’ I blurted out in disgust, unable to accept this was the same man that I had considered my boyfriend. Increasingly distressed by my shattered dreams.

‘Of course I won’t charge you,’ he snapped indignantly. ‘After all, I might have lost my job if it hadn’t been for your support.’

‘Exactly! I supported you. I supported us! But now look at me. Stuck with this ridiculous mushroom hair,’ I yelled, frustrated by his lack of empathy.

‘Well, you like quite nice … er, actually,’ he repeated, increasing my irritation with him and with the situation. ‘And, er, we call it a bowlcut rather than -’

‘Oh, we do, do we?’ I chastised. ‘And “we” is you and that odious woman, I suppose?’

‘That’s quite unfair, Julia,’ he refuted defensively. ‘Ms Pinch has achieved quite remarkable changes at The Grand in a remarkably brief period. All for the greater good. There is much to admire in that woman,’ he added wistfully.

I stared, willing him to say more and falling further down into the hole he was hell bent on digging for himself.

‘What?’ he shrugged, filling an uncomfortable silence.

‘Is there something going on between you and that woman you admire so much?’ I blurted out.

Jealousy had got the better of me but, straight away, I regretted that I had revealed my vulnerability.

‘No, of course not,’ he said quickly, and unconvincingly. ‘But she is -’

‘Admirable!’ I snapped sarcastically. ‘Don’t go on, I’ve heard enough.’

‘Fair enough, Julia,’ he murmured, shaking his head disapprovingly. ‘Now, I suggest when I finish work, we meet in the bar of the hotel just down the road from here. I have friends working there, and they are very discreet.’

I struggled to find the words to express how just angry I had become. ‘Samuel Bates, I will not be meeting you in a seedy hotel down the road, and -’

‘It’s not all that seedy,’ he interjected, smiling ruefully, but I ignored him.

‘And next time I am forced, by work, to visit this awful town, I will not be staying at The Grand,’ I shrieked hysterically, ‘and I look forward to never seeing you ever again.’

‘Fair enough, Julia,’ he scoffed, uncaring, as he grabbed a broom and began sweeping up all my hair that littered his floor. Chuckling lightly, he sighed, ‘although I had been hoping to feature your transformation in the flyers to advertise the new service that Ms Pinch is so keen on me promoting.’

I was speechless. The cheek of the odious man knew no bounds.

He shrugged when confronted by my deathly silence. ‘But please do remember to tell your colleagues and your clients that they are welcome to come to The Grand and ask for Sam if they would me to cut their hair in the same style as yours.’

I stamped my foot in frustration, spun around, and stormed out of the barbershop without another word.

Epilogue

I marched up to the reception desk to settle my bill so I could check out earlier that I had originally intended. Jasmine was in earnest conversation with a guest, so I waited nearby until I could gain her attention.

Inevitably, Jasmine’s short hair drew my gaze. As she animatedly explained something to the guest, the glossy cap of hair perched on her head bounced around, skimming over the shaved back and sides. But, whenever she stopped moving, her locks glided neatly back into their original position. Although irritated by my observation, I had no choice but to acknowledge the undoubted benefits of a neat and tidy haircut for presenting a professional and efficient appearance.

While I continued to wait, my gaze drifted to the large mirror behind reception, and the unfamiliar reflection momentarily startled me. Undeniably it was still me but, with a haircut identical to Jasmine’s, I looked younger than my years. And I appeared even more professional than usual.

I mused upon the unexpected realisation while I waited for Jasmine to finish with her guest.

As the guest finished her conversation with Jasmine, I noted that she was Fiona Baxter, one of the key members of my project team at the nearby client. Ironically, given the circumstances for me waiting by the desk, she had responsibility for arranging my hotel bookings amongst other administrative tasks. After talking to Jasmine, Fiona had turned away from the desk without noticing my presence.

Observing Fiona and Jasmine together, my employee’s slovenly appearance was disturbing. Fiona had pinned up her long hair in a messy updo that was more suited to a night of clubbing. Furthermore, her leather jacket and casual trousers would never be an acceptable alternative to a smart business suit.

I accepted the client had a relaxed attitude to the attire worn by their own staff. However, I should not have allowed this informality to extend to the members of my own team who I expected to uphold the standards of our respected consultancy firm.

It led me to contemplate that I might have something to learn from Ms Pinch after all

‘Good morning, Madam,’ Jasmine said, as she glided to my end of the reception desk. ‘How may I help you?’

‘Hello, Jasmine,’ I said coyly, running a hand up my bald nape. ‘I’m -’

‘Miss Parker!’ she shrieked, as soon as she recognised me, raising her own hand to her neck to mimic mine. ‘Your hair! It’s … it’s …’

‘The same as yours,’ I tittered uncharacteristically.

‘Yes … er, it suits you,’ Jasmine ventured thoughtfully. After further study, she added, ‘Actually, yes it really does.’

‘Thank you, Jasmine,’ I said. ‘Samuel Bates just styled it for me,’ I added wistfully, quivering with disappointment at the sight of Fiona’s departing messy updo. ‘And I plan to keep him very busy over the next few days.’

‘Really?’ Jasmine questioned, looking startled. Taking a deep breath, she added, ‘So, Miss Parker, how may I help you with this morning?’

‘I would like to extend my stay by a few days, Jasmine,’ I requested, reversing my plans for departure that I had voiced to Samuel just moments earlier.

‘It will be our pleasure,’ Jasmine said, tapping away at the computer, her neat bowlcut bobbing up and down to the same rhythm.

Reflected at the edge of mirror was a shadowy figure with piercing eyes lurking in the corner of the reception area.

‘And please could you make an appointment for me with your Ms Pinch,’ I asked. ‘The two of us have important matters to discuss,’ I added excitedly.

‘For the greater good?’ Jasmine awkwardly suggested, peering upwards, from under her blunt fringe.

‘Precisely!’ I grinned.

To be continued