Laura

Laura

 

We know Laura from the story about Selina and the loss of her long black hair.

Laura is sitting on a plane, her laptop open on her lap.

A new assignment.

She reads through the details again and looks at the photos.

The report is very comprehensive; a private investigator must have been hired. The photos are unmistakable. She and the man are making out on a park bench.

The next photo shows them in the act of having sex in a car.

Laura lingers on one particular image.

A woman is standing on a balcony, brushing her hip-length red hair.

Her name is Jenny Parker, and she is Robert Durham’s mistress.

Her hair reaches down to her hips and is styled with a side part.

 

Laura grinses. Finally, a job that’s going to be genuinely fun.

She had actually felt a bit sorry for the petite, dark-haired woman.

But the quality of her braid was superb.

Out of habit, she tucks her blonde hair behind her ears. It immediately falls forward again. She’d forgotten that her hair only covers half her ear now. She has bangs instead.

 

“Did I have it cut a bit too short, or is it still too long?

Should I let it grow out or cut it really short?”

She checks her Bitcoin account. A deposit worth $10,000.

Mrs. Durham paid for the job as agreed and without hesitation.

Laura leans back, relaxed.

 

The first thing Laura does is drive a rental car to the address she was given.

An apartment block with multiple rental units.

 

She spots the name Jenny Parker on the nameplates, at the bottom right.

“Luckily, not on the fifth floor.”

She has a good view from her car.

The lower balcony door opens, and Jenny lights a cigarette.

Then she begins brushing her thick, soft hair.

Ten minutes later, Jenny leaves the building and walks toward the mall.

Laura follows her.

Inside the mall, Jenny heads straight for a unisex hair salon.

The large glass door is standing open.

Laura panics! “Surely she isn’t going to…”

She positions herself next to the open door.

“I’d like to make an appointment,” Laura hears Jenny say.

She breathes a sigh of relief.

“What would you like to have done?” “Just a trim, really.

Though personally, I’d prefer it a bit shorter—a chin-length bob.

But my husband would hit the roof if I had it cut off.”

Laura grins. “It would certainly look great on you, though,” the hairdresser says. “I’d even cut it shorter at the back. That would really show off your lovely neck. I’ll put you down for 4 p.m. the day after tomorrow.

You can always discuss it with your husband again before then.”

“Mr. Durham isn’t your man—he’s your lover!” Laura thinks to herself.

Jenny spends some more time strolling through the mall.

 

The next afternoon, Laura pulls up to the house in a delivery van.

She is wearing blue overalls and holding a package the size of a shoebox.

Laura rings the bell.

“A package for Jenny Parker.” “I didn’t order anything.”

Laura repeats the name and address.

“It’s from a Robert Durham.”

The buzzer sounds. Jenny is already standing at the apartment door, beaming happily. “From Robert? Oh, that’s so sweet of him.”

“Wow! You have beautiful hair. What dye do you use?”

“None—it’s my natural color,” Jenny replies proudly.

“My hair was that long not too long ago, too,” Laura says sadly.

“And you had it cut this short?”

“It was even shorter, and it wasn’t exactly voluntary, either.”

“Oh dear, who did that to you?”

Laura glances at her wristwatch. “Could you perhaps give me a glass of water? Luckily, I don’t have that many packages today, and I’m finishing work after you.” “Of course, please come in.” “By the way, I’m Laura.”

“Jenny. I was just about to make myself a coffee. Would you like one too?”

 

“I’d love that.” Jenny fiddles with the coffee machine.

“You said it wasn’t voluntary? I did wonder a bit about your hairstyle.”

“I’m actually a trained hairdresser, and my boss forced me to be a model for his son. A disgusting guy—all his buddies were sitting there watching.

And the stupid remarks they kept making…

One of them even suggested he should just shave my head.”

“The way he grinned when he cut off my long hair and then handed it out to his buddies…”

Jenny places two cups of coffee on the kitchen table and sits down opposite Laura. She brushes her long hair back over her shoulders.

“It was so embarrassing, sitting there on the chair—feeling trapped—and seeing the audience’s faces in the mirror.”

“And now you’re delivering packages?” Laura nods. “For the time being.”

“I have a hair appointment tomorrow to get my ends trimmed. Over at the mall.” “I know that place. They mostly have male clients. They’ll seat you between two men, and don’t think they’ll just trim the ends—ten centimeters could easily come off.”

A shiver runs through Jenny at the thought.

She looks at Laura. “You’re a hairdresser, couldn’t you trim my ends?

Then I won’t have to go there tomorrow. I’ll pay you, too.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have my scissors with me. But maybe you have some…?”

“No problem, I bought a pair of hair-cutting scissors once and wanted to try it myself. But then I got too scared.”

 

Jenny comes back into the kitchen with a brush, a comb, and a pair of scissors still in their original packaging.

Laura fans her red hair back over the chair’s backrest and brushes it thoroughly. Using a comb, she draws a side part precisely from front to back.

“Should I stand up? Then you wouldn’t have to bend over so far.”

“This is fine. I need to look at you closely now so it’s symmetrical with your face.” Laura sits down opposite Jenny.

“Now look me in the eyes.”

“And now watch my outstretched finger very closely.”

After a few seconds, Jenny is sitting on the chair, looking as if she were asleep.

“Jenny, sit up straight and open your eyes.” She does so.

“Now tilt your head back.”

Laura opens the package that arrived and takes out her clippers.

Grinning, she snaps the 3mm attachment onto the blade and positions herself behind Jenny. She runs the brush through her soft hair a few more times.

She ties Jenny’s hair back loosely.

The motor hums, and she places the clippers against Jenny’s forehead.

Two hours later, an alarm clock rings, and Jenny is instantly snapped back to the here and now. Her head feels so cold. Her hands reach up to touch her hair. Nothing! Panicked, she runs to the bathroom mirror.

She sees her head—nothing but red stubble, just 3 mm long!

She runs into the kitchen. No Laura! No hair! Everything is gone!

A sheet of paper lay before her.

“If you go to the police and file a report, I’m sure your mother and one of your friends would look forward to a visit from me.

And just picture the scene: the two of them standing at your door.

Both of them not just with their hair shorn, but with their heads freshly shaved bald!”

 

Mr. Durham comes home that evening to his wife, who greets him with a cold smile. “What have you done?”

“Don’t you like it?” She runs her fingers through her hair, which is cut in a very short, sporty style. He stares at her, frozen.

“By the way, the divorce papers are in the kitchen. You just need to sign them. Then you can move in with your red-headed she-devil.”

 

Meanwhile, Laura is sitting in a motel a hundred miles away.

She is searching the darknet for new assignments.

“Austin, Texas. I’ve never been there.”