A Good Tidy-Up: The Missing Six Months: Chapter 5

Sarah was concentrating furiously on the spreadsheet in front of her. She had a lot to do, so had come in a little early to get a head start. Her tight poodle curls, the weekend’s formal set washed out, formed a neat cap around her head. Maureen had trimmed her hair neatly around her ears  before her set, commenting that she would need to have another perm before too long. Sarah had been amused that it didn’t seem to occur to Maureen that she might not want another perm. She was now one of the salon regulars, and was being treated accordingly. She was vaguely aware of someone sitting down at the desk across from her. After a moment she glanced up, and her eyes widened.

“Oh my! Maria! You look absolutely darling! Why didn’t you tell me you were having your hair permed?”

“Keep your voice down!” Maria looked around self-consciously, though it was still a little early and the office was largely empty. “Well,” she grimaced. “It wasn’t exactly planned.”

“Intriguing. Tell me more.”

“Um. OK. Well.” She took a deep breath. “It was Mum’s birthday on Saturday. She had her mobile hairdresser come around to do her hair, and I’d told her I’d have mine done too. I just wanted a little trim and a nice blow dry, but I managed to get in an argument with Mum beforehand. I told her I wouldn’t be having an old ladies’ shampoo and set, like her, and she was really upset. Anyway, when Brenda came I decided I’d make up with Mum by saying I’d have it done however she wanted. I wasn’t expecting her to insist on having me permed, but I didn’t see how I could back down.”

Sarah was torn between sympathy for her friend’s plight, and glee that fate had apparently caught up with Maria and her ‘old lady hair’ jibes.

“Well I do think it looks absolutely lovely, really smart, and I’m sure you’ll love having permed hair. It’s so easy to look after.” Sarah reached up and patted her own tight little curls. “And your Mum must be delighted.”

“Well, yes, she is. She never liked my long hair, and ever since Wendy made me have it cut short, she’s been desperate to take her curling iron to it.”

She paused and grinned. “I’m not the only one who got smartened up though. Me and Mum had both been nagging Andy to have his hair tidied up, so he looked a bit smarter for Mum’s birthday, and he finally did. He took himself down to an old-fashioned barber’s for a proper, full-on short back and sides. I think it might be even shorter than Steve’s. It was all slicked down into a perfect side parting, and he just looked so smart. His mum was over the moon, she’d hated his messy long hair too, so between us, we’re going to make sure that he keeps it like that – properly short, and neat and tidy.”

“Quite right too!” Sarah smiled. “Steve was very keen for me to have my hair cut up short and tidy, but a bit more reluctant when it came to his own scruffy mop. Once he had it cut, though, I told him that he was keeping it that way. These boys have to learn that if they want us looking nice and smart then they have to make an effort too.” Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah saw Wendy approaching, and decided that she just had time to have a little dig at Maria. “So, what does Andy think of you looking like a poodle, with a tight little perm just like your mum?” She smiled, innocently.

“Good morning Sarah, Maria.” Before Maria could respond to Sarah’s barb, Wendy interrupted. A few weeks ago, she had started coming into the office with her short permed hair set into a modest, but stiffly lacquered bouffant, and she had maintained it meticulously ever since.

Sarah was quite sure that the formal style was intended to reinforce her authority as office manager, and since then Wendy had indeed been even more vigorous in requiring the three girls to respect the dress code, especially regarding their hair. Sophie had been increasingly reminded that her hair was getting rather too close to both her collar and her eyes, whilst Maria’s slightly overgrown and undisciplined waves had also attracted stern words last week.  Even Sarah had not escaped, with Wendy suggesting, despite her own teased and sprayed helmet, that Sarah’s shampoo and set was ‘rather too showy’ for the office, and requesting that she kept her hair in the plain, tight poodle perm.

“I’m very pleased to see that you were listening to me last week, Maria, and have had that untidy mop seen to. A nice tight perm like that is quite the best thing for you girls.”

Wendy was looking directly at Maria, and Sarah took the opportunity to raise her eyebrows at Maria, as if to say ‘I told you so’.

“Er, yes, I had it done for Mum’s birthday. She was very keen that I had it permed too. I suppose it will make it easier in the mornings. It doesn’t seem to need any styling.” Maria was trying to make the best of it, but it was obvious, to Sarah at least, that she wasn’t entirely happy with her mother’s choice of hairstyle for her.

“And that’s exactly why I’m so pleased to see the two of you adopting such sensible hairstyles. Always neat and tidy. This kind of smart, professional appearance is precisely the reason that we require everyone to follow the dress code.”

As she said this, Sophie quietly came in and sat down at her desk. She was slightly embarrassed about her fresh kitchen-cut bob, and especially the way that her fringe had gone from brushing her eyebrows to half way up her forehead. She didn’t really want anyone calling attention to it, but at the same time, hoped that Wendy would notice that her hair was now firmly off her collar and out of her eyes, and stop nagging her to get it cut. Wendy glanced sharply in her direction.

“And it seems like you’re not the only one who’s had an appointment with the scissors. It must be nice to be able to see properly, now that fringe is out of your eyes?”

Sophie’s fringe had, in fact, never got close to blocking her vision, but she didn’t want to start Monday morning by arguing with her boss. She decided to let the comment pass.

“Yes, well it needed tidying up, and Mum was good enough to do it for me again.”

“Hmmm. Well, I suppose it is tidier, but you did promise me that you’d have it cut properly – up over your ears.” Wendy frowned. “I should have sent you down to Jean’s last week. She’d have made sure that you were in line with the dress code. Next time you have it cut, make sure it’s right off your ears, please, or I will be taking steps.”

With those ominous words Wendy left, calling over her shoulder. “Maria, come with me would you, please. I have a new assignment I’d like you to take a look at.”

Sarah and Sophie waited until the others were out of earshot.

“So, er, Mum offered to tidy it up for you?”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Insisted, more like. She said she wanted me looking tidy for church. I had to wear one of her old dresses too. There’s been a bit of a campaign by the vicar’s wife for the last few weeks, called ‘Smarten Up Sunday’. She wants everyone to make an effort for church; no jeans, no trainers, and hair off the collar.”

“That sounds like a splendid idea.“ Sarah nodded enthusiastically. “I do like to see people in their Sunday best. Is it working?”

“It seems to be. I got the impression that a lot of mums were very happy to have a pretext to get their families smartened up. I’ve never seen so many teenage boys in shirts and ties and proper haircuts – the barbers must have been busy –  and the girls were all wearing long skirts and dresses.” Sophie paused. “I think some mums must have got fed up with fighting to get their daughters’ hair put up tidily, and taken the scissors to it. There were quite a few girls with neat little bobs and short fringes, just like me.”

She sighed, ruefully. “I can’t really blame Mum, though. I’d told her that I needed it kept tidy for work, and I know I should have had it cut before now, really. I just wish she hadn’t taken my fringe quite so short.” She attempted to smooth the offending hair down, closer to her eyebrows, but with no effect.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I think Maria’s Mum has much the same attitude.” Sarah recounted what Maria had told her.

Sophie smiled. “I did wonder how she’d ended up quite so curly. Well, I suppose she was asking for it, if she told her mum that. I wonder how she likes looking like a poodle, after what she said about your hair?”

Sarah returned the grin. “Yes, I thought the same. I don’t think she’s completely happy about it, to be honest, but, like me, she’s just going to have to get used to it.” She patted her own short, tight curls. “I know it might seem a bit, well, mumsy at first, but it really is so easy. I can’t imagine having it any other way now.”

Sophie eyed her warily. Was Sarah trying to persuade her to have a perm too? She had no doubt that would please Wendy, and she could well imagine that Maria would be very happy to see Sophie just as toned down and smartened up as she was. Sophie sighed inwardly, and again wondered how she would ever find a boyfriend when everyone around her seemed determined to make her look plain and frumpy?

“In fact, I saw one of my friends at church yesterday,” Sarah carried on. “She’s just had her long hair all cut off and permed, and she’s loving how easy it is.

“Her boyfriend did break up with her over it.” she added thoughtfully “but I think that had been coming anyway.” She turned back to her spreadsheet, not noticing the alarmed look on Sophie’s face.

 

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“Hello Sarah, Hello Mrs. Eavis.”

“Please, call me Sheila.”

“Thank you dear, then I’m Gladys, Steven’s Grandmother, you know.”

“Lovely to meet you, Gladys. Sarah’s told me such a lot about you.”

“Sarah’s a delightful girl, isn’t she? A real credit to you. I’ll never forget the first time I met her, she was wearing such a sweet little dress, and it’s so pleasing to see a young lady who understands the importance of having her hair dressed properly.”

Gladys beamed at Sarah, who smiled demurely back, pleased with the compliment. Barbara had invited Mum to join them for Sunday lunch today, and everyone seemed to be getting on wonderfully.

“And I can see that’s down to your good example, Sheila.” Gladys continued. “It’s such a shame, but traditional hairdressing seems to be falling out of favour with so many ladies from your generation.”

“Well, yes,” Sheila didn’t want to mislead the older lady, but decided not to disillusion her. “I have always liked to keep my hair looking presentable, and heaven knows I tried my best to make Sarah do the same. It wasn’t always easy though.

“I kept it nice and short when she was a little girl, of course, but then she turned into a teenager, and started refusing point blank to have it cut, or even keep it tidy. It was as much as I could do to get a comb through it sometimes. She did relent a little as she got older, and I eventually persuaded her to have it shorter after she started working at the bank, but it really wasn’t short enough, and she certainly didn’t keep it tidy.” She frowned, and shook her head. “It’s only quite recently that she had it cut up neatly, and started to have it curled.”

“Oh yes, Tina – that’s my granddaughter – was just the same. She had a real mess of ‘rat’s tails’ when she was a teenager, and she wouldn’t have it cut for anything. When she stayed with me in the holidays, I’d sit her down every morning, take a hairbrush to her mop and put it into plaits, to keep it tidy. She kicked up a fuss, of course, but I told her it was that or the scissors. No scruffy jeans, either, she had to wear proper dresses. I just told her ‘Grandma’s house, Grandma’s rules.’ ”

“Well good for you!” Sheila nodded vigorously. “I always used to make Sarah wear a nice dress for church, but she would not sit still to have her hair plaited.” She shook her head, recalling her frustration. Sarah looked a little embarrassed, remembering the scenes she had caused in order to avoid the strict parting and tight plaits that her mother considered appropriate for church.

“Yes, Barbara had much the same problem. Tina could be a stroppy little madam, so most of the time, her hair was all over the place, full of tangles, and she’d wear skirts that hardly covered anything, or those awful jeans with holes in that they all seem to wear nowadays.

“Barbara was at her wit’s end with her, but then we had a big party for my Golden Wedding Anniversary.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I told Barabara that I was desperate to see Tina looking presentable for the party, and couldn’t she drag her down to the hairdresser’s just for once, and put her into a pretty dress?”

She grinned. “Well, Barbara really put her foot down, and had Tina’s hair cut up short, permed and set, and she came to the party looking like a perfect young lady, with a lovely clean face and the sweetest little floral dress.”

“Gosh, Barbara took her life in her hands there.” Sheila was clearly impressed. “I threatened to have Sarah’s cut up short a few times, but she kicked up such a fuss, and I never went through with it. I’m sure it would have been good for her in the long run, but what can you do?” She spread her hands, helplessly.

“Well, Tina wasn’t too happy at first, but it was quite the best thing for her, and she soon got used to it. Saying that, since she left home, she’s been letting her standards slip, and she’s starting to look rather scruffy, I’m afraid to say. Barbara did make her have a tidy up and a set for my birthday, and I thought that might be an end to it, but she isn’t keeping it up, even though she told her mother that she would.

“If you ask me, she needs a good cut and perm again. Moira, who does mine, would sort her out and no mistake, but she won’t come with me; I’ve tried often enough.”

Gladys paused for a moment, looking thoughtful.

“You know, I wonder if you might help me out here, Sarah. If you were to come along as well, then she wouldn’t be able to wriggle out of it. When are you next due for a perm, dear?”

Sarah was momentarily taken aback. She hadn’t expected this, and felt torn. She didn’t really want to upset Tina, and this felt like going behind her back. Sarah was quite happy to have her own hair kept in a modest and conservative bubblecut, but that didn’t mean Tina had to do the same. On the other hand, she mused, Tina had seemed happy enough with her prim shampoo and set for Gladys’ birthday, and Sarah distinctly remembered, even if Gladys seemed to have forgotten, that Tina had promised her mother not just that she’d keep her hair tidy, but that she’d have it permed, just like Sarah’s.

Perhaps, Sarah thought, Tina had just got cold feet about it, and simply needed some positive encouragement to get herself properly smartened up. She’d actually seemed quite excited about the prospects of a perm, Sarah recalled, and the more she thought about it, the more she decided that perhaps this was for the best. After all, if Tina really didn’t want a perm, she could always say so; it’s not like anyone was going to tie her to the chair!

This all passed through Sarah’s head in a matter of moments, and she turned to Gladys with a smile.

“Well, pretty soon really. I think Maureen was going to do it in the next few weeks. Do you really think it would make a difference, me being there?”

“Oh I’m sure it will. Now I know that Tina’s going to be here in two weeks – there’s a family dinner for Barbara and Howard’s wedding anniversary – and Barbara will be desperate to have Tina looking presentable, so I’ll book you both in with Moira on Saturday morning. I just know that once I get Tina sat in Moira’s chair, she’ll accept what’s coming. She’s a good girl, really, and I know that deep down she respects our family’s values, so I’m sure she won’t kick up a fuss when Moira starts putting the rods in her hair.”

“Well I think that sounds like an excellent plan, Gladys.” Sheila was nodding enthusiastically, obviously delighted at the prospect of another young lady submitting to a smart and traditional hairstyle. “I’m sure that a good firm hand is just what Tina needs, and you’ll have her looking nice and respectable in no time.”

 

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The faded sign over the grubby windows simply read “Cut ’n’ Curl”. Whatever might lie inside was concealed by a pair of net curtains in need of a good wash. Tina gulped. How had she let herself end up in this situation?

It had begun on Friday evening; she had come home for her parent’s wedding anniversary – the dinner to celebrate was on Sunday. Much as she had wanted to slip into her favourite stretchy jeans and a hoodie, she could imagine her mother’s face when she turned up, so she’d reluctantly put on a long pleated skirt and a nice smart white blouse that she knew would get a better reaction.

Her hair was more of a problem though. She had grudgingly allowed Barbara to drag her down to the hairdressers’ about three months ago, to have her hair done ‘properly’ for her Grandma’s birthday. She had agreed to a trim, but this had turned out to mean at least three inches cutting off, and the remaining hair teased into a prim old ladies’ shampoo and set.

Of course, Grandma, and her mother, had loved it, and overwhelmed with all the positive comments from the family, she had agreed to keep her hair tidy, have it set when she needed to look smart and even, in a fit of goodwill she had immediately regretted, said she would have a short, tight poodle perm, just like Sarah’s.

Once she had washed the set out, though, she decided that the cut looked distinctly frumpy, and she couldn’t do anything with it. She had resolved to grow it out again, at least into a bob, maybe longer, and had spent the last three months trying to avoid any kind of confrontation about her hair. Increasingly though, both Babara and Gladys had been quite forthright in telling her that it looked scruffy hanging over her collar and it needed a good cut. They’d also offered to take her to the hairdressers’, and even pay for her to have it permed at the same time.

Looking in the mirror now, she could see their point; her fine, limp hair was hard to control as it grew out, and did look distinctly untidy. It made her wonder, briefly, whether her plan to grow her hair out was actually sensible. Was she just going to end up with a lank, straggly mess? Might she actually be better off accepting that Mum was right, and her hair simply looked better when it was kept short?

She was sure that the current state of her hair wouldn’t meet with approval, and felt that she had to try to do something with it. There was no chance of putting it all up, and the best she could do was pull the sides back as tightly as she could with hairgrips, and hope for the best. She frowned. It wasn’t much of an improvement. Much as it pained her to admit that her mother might be right, she did like to look presentable, and whilst the grips kept her long hair from falling into her face, the limp locks straggling over her collar were anything but smart. She wished that she’d had her hair trimmed this week, in preparation for the visit home.

She was sure that her mother’s offer of a visit to the hairdresser’s would be repeated, and perhaps even insisted on, given the occasion. She briefly wondered whether she should just accept with good grace. Would she inevitably end up with the perm that she’d promised to have? And would that be the end of the world? It mightn’t be terribly fashionable, but it would certainly keep her looking neat and tidy, and would make her family really proud. And now she thought about it, Sarah seemed quite happy with her short tight curls, so perhaps she should give it another go. She just didn’t know what to do for the best. Perhaps she could accept the offer, submit to a good tidy up, but decline the perm. Shouldn’t that make everyone happy?

 

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“Hello, Dear,” Barbara gave her a shrewd appraisal. “You look nice. Still not had your hair cut though, I see”

Tina rolled her eyes. “No, Mum.”

“Hmmm… You know, Sarah and Grandma are going to the hairdressers’ tomorrow. I don’t know all the details, but I think that Sarah’s having another perm, and Grandma wanted to be there to give her some moral support. I know it means a lot to Mother that Sarah is so respectful of our traditional values.”

Barbarba paused, waiting for Tina to comment, but when she didn’t, carried on.

“I suppose it would be too much to expect you to go with them, and have that mop tidied up. It would be lovely to have you looking smart for the dinner on Sunday, and you did promise me that you’d keep your hair neat and tidy.” She paused again. “And I haven’t forgotten that you actually said you’d have it permed.”

Tina pouted. “But if I let Gran have her way, I’ll end up looking like a proper little poodle.”

“And would that be too much to suffer after all she has done for you? Just a few months with a sweet little head of curls, that’s all she wants. It wouldn’t do you any harm, it might even do you some good.”

“Well, I don’t want to look like a poodle, OK?”

“Very well dear, I’m sure you know best.”

Tina sulked for a few more moments. “Oh alright then. I’ll go with them, and have my hair trimmed. I’m not having one of Grandma’s poodle perms, though.”

At least, she thought, Sarah ought to back me up when I tell Grandma I don’t want a perm, and maybe I can return the favour, and make sure that she doesn’t end up completely poodled either.

“Oh, thank you dear, I’ll let Mother know.” She picked up the old fashioned telephone receiver, and started to dial. “It’s lovely to think of the three of you there together. You and Sarah will look so nice when Moira has smartened the pair of you up.”

“Moira? Don’t you mean Maureen?”

“Oh hello Mother, it’s me, Barbara. Yes, Tina’s here, and she’s just told me that she’d love to come with you and Sarah tomorrow, and have her hair done. Will that be OK? Splendid. See you tomorrow.”

“Right, she’ll pick you up tomorrow, 9 o’clock sharp. Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Mum, you said ‘Moira’. Don’t you mean Maureen, that’s Sarah’s hairdresser, I’m sure.”

“Oh, no dear. Grandma’s taking you to Cut ‘n’ Curl, where she has hers done.”

 

 

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