A Good Tidy-Up: The Missing Six Months: Chapter 6

Tina was slowly realising that she’d been outmanoeuvred at every turn. The result of her mother’s artful manipulation was that she was now standing outside the most run down old hairdresser’s she could imagine. She had briefly toyed with the idea of showing her annoyance at the way she’d been manipulated by wearing her old ripped jeans and a tight strappy top, and putting on a full face of makeup, all things she knew would annoy her grandmother. She’d thought better of it, though, imagining the disappointed look on her mother’s face, grudgingly putting on the same long pleated skirt she had worn the day before. Barbara had insisted on lending her a printed blouse with a tie neck which she fastened firmly under Tina’s chin. Gladys had a grimly determined smile on her face, clearly delighted that she finally had her granddaughter where she wanted her.

As soon as her mother had mentioned Moira, Tina had started dreading what was going to happen. She had been introduced to her grandmother’s hairdresser once, when out shopping with her Grandma, and counted herself fortunate that she had never been taken to her salon before. Moira was a rotund lady with piercing beady eyes and an iron grey helmet of immaculately set hair, but it was her booming, authoritative Irish voice which had made Tina fear that if she ever sat in Moira’s chair, she would leave with exactly the haircut that Moira thought best, regardless of what she asked for.

Tina was desperately wishing that she had had the good sense to have her hair trimmed before she came to visit, but there was nothing she could do about that now.

“Come along, Tina, we mustn’t keep Moira waiting.” Gladys ushered her into the salon, Sarah following on behind.

“Good Morning Moira.”

“Morning Gladys. So these are the two young ladies that are for tidying up, then.”

“That’s right. You’ll remember Tina, my granddaughter,”

“I do indeed. Hello Tina.” Moira eyed Tina critically.

“Hello Mrs. Connolly.”

“And this is Sarah, who’s stepping out with my Steven.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Connolly.”

“Likewise.” Moira nodded. “Now who’s to be first? You, I think, Missy. That hair is well overdue for a cut. I can see why your grandmother was so keen for you to be sorted out.”

Tina reluctantly made her way over to Moira’s chair. Moira brusquely untied the bow on her blouse and she was wrapped tightly in a dingy grey gown. Moira pulled out the hairgrips Tina had again used in an attempt to keep her hair tidy, and it promptly fell into her face.

“You see the problem, Moira?” Gladys sounded thoroughly exasperated.

“I certainly do.” Moira started to drag a comb through Tina’s hair, tutting away. “Don’t worry, though. She won’t be leaving here with hair in her face, I can assure you of that!

“I really don’t know why you young girls are so desperate to avoid the scissors,” she carried on. “You’d all have a load of rat’s tails hanging halfway down your back if you had your way. In my day, it was simply accepted that you kept yourself looking presentable, which meant regular visits to the hairdresser.”

“Quite right.” chipped in Gladys.” A respectable young woman wouldn’t be seen with her hair straggling over her collar like that, any more than she would with a wrinkled blouse or dirty fingernails.”

“So what’s to be done with her then, Gladys?”

“Well she’s well overdue for a good cut, as you said, and she needs to look smart for my Barbara’s anniversary do, tomorrow, so nice and high off her collar please, and a tight perm, so that it lasts.”

Tina gulped. This was it. Was she just going to accept her grandmother turning her into a poodle? Or was she going to speak up, stand her ground and insist that she was only having a trim? Her indecision meant that she didn’t really do either.

“Er, I don’t really want a perm. I only, er.”

Moira didn’t let her finish. “Well what you want isn’t always what you need, Missy. And what you need is a good cut and perm, so you look nice and smart for your family. Anyway,” she continued bluntly, “your hair is so flat and limp. The only way to give it any kind of shape is to perm it.”

She was already determinedly snipping away, oblivious to Tina’s disquiet. Tina looked desperately at Sarah through the mirror. Sarah got the message immediately, and came over.

“It’s OK, Tina, don’t worry. I know a perm is a big step, but I promise it’s not as bad as you think. I’m going to have mine done, too, just as soon as you’re finished. We’ll be curly girls together, OK? Just like you promised your Mum.”

Sarah’s reminder of the impulsive commitment Tina had made after her last reluctant salon visit finally tipped the balance. She realised that her promise had been made very publicly, to both her mum and her grandma, as well as Sarah, and she began to feel that she really ought to show some solidarity with Sarah.

She also remembered that the reactions from her family had been overwhelming. Everybody had told her how smart she looked when she had her hair cut up short, and how much a nice neat head of curls suited her. OK. She was decided. She would let Moira perm her hair, and smile while she was doing it. And if she hated it, well, it would be a lesson not to make promises that she wasn’t prepared to keep.

“All right.” She sighed. “I did promise, so I suppose I’d better keep my word.”

“Good girl.” Gladys tried to soothe her “I knew you’d see sense. Now just sit nice and still and let Moira do her job.”

Moira hadn’t actually stopped combing and snipping. Tina’s earlier assessment – that she gave haircuts as she felt appropriate, paying scant attention to what her client asked for – was entirely true. She also firmly believed that the younger generation should do as their elders told them, so a young lady accompanied  by her mother, or indeed grandmother, really was wasting her breath arguing. Sarah retreated to her seat, trying to smile reassuringly at Tina in the mirror.

Before long, Moira put down her scissors and started sectioning and winding what was left of Tina’s hair onto slender perm rods. They were much smaller than the rollers Tina had endured a few months ago, and she knew that the curls she ended up with would be that much tighter.

“Hold these, and pass them up to me, one at a time.” Moira thrust a packet of end papers at Tina, who numbly accepted them. She watched in the mirror, amazed at just how quickly Moira’s chubby fingers were working as she wound in rod after rod in no time at all. She struggled to keep up at first, but soon got into a rhythm, and ended up feeling strangely pleased with herself when Moira wound the last rod in, followed by a strip of cotton wool around her hairline.

“There. No more limp locks hanging in your face for you, young lady.” She declared triumphantly, starting to cover each rod with the perm solution. “No, you’re going to be looking very neat and tidy from now on.”

Sarah watched as Tina was ushered over to another chair, where the perm could process while Sarah was attended to. She remembered her mother’s words to her as she had left the house that morning. “Now I’ve spoken to Gladys, and agreed exactly how you’re to have your hair done. She knows you need a proper, formal set for church tomorrow, so just be a good girl, and do as you’re told.”

Sarah found herself unaccountably excited that she was to have no say in her hairstyle; she would just have to accept whatever was decided by three strict older ladies.

She had a feeling that it would be shorter, tighter and more severe than anything she’d had previously, and she couldn’t help wondering what Steve would think of it. She hoped that he would like it, though perhaps not so much that she ended up as a regular at Moira’s. Anyway, if he didn’t like it, then he’d have his gran to answer to.

Sarah knew that Steve had been under strict instructions to take himself to the barber’s this morning, in preparation for the Anniversary dinner, and Barbara was insisting on a proper short back and sides, or she’d be taking him back to have it cut again. She was looking forward to seeing just how smart he looked when she saw him next.

Sarah realised that she was being prodded by Gladys. “Come on girl, get up in the chair. I didn’t think I’d be having trouble with you!”

“Oh, no, sorry Mrs. Stewart. I was just daydreaming.” She got up quickly and climbed into Moira’s chair.

“Hmph. This perm’s almost grown out, and it’s been allowed to get much too long at the back.” Moira didn’t seem much more impressed with Sarah’s hair than Tina’s. She tugged her comb forcefully through Sarah’s overgrown curls and turned to Gladys. “Same again?”

“Yes please. I’ve spoken with her mother, and she’s to have a tight perm, and a nice high neckline. Oh, and her mother likes her to look presentable at church, so she needs a proper shampoo and set. Plenty of lacquer, so it lasts until tomorrow.”

“You’re not going to kick up a fuss, I hope, Little Miss Daydream?” Moira enquired sarcastically.

“Oh, no Mrs. Connolly. My mother always likes me to look smart, and I know how important it is to Steve’s family, too. That’s why it’s so nice to be here with Tina, I’m sure that you and Mrs. Stewart will make sure that we both do our families proud tomorrow.”

“Well it does make a nice change to hear a young lady with a bit of respect for her family. I can certainly make sure that you both make your mothers proud.”

Moira’s attitude to Sarah started to warm a little, but she was no less determined with her scissors, and Sarah could feel that her hair was being cropped, as she’d suspected, shorter than Maureen had taken her.

The rods followed in short order, Sarah being more adept at paper-passing than Tina, owing to her more recent experience. Cotton wool was wrapped, and Moira snipped the top from a new bottle of perm solution.

“One more head of nice tight curls coming up.” She turned to Gladys. “You know, I really can’t remember the last time I had a young lady in here for a proper, tight perm, never mind two at once.”

“No, most of them are even more scared of curls than they are of scissors, I think.” Gladys replied scathingly. She sighed. “There’s no self-respect these days. Every time I see those gaggles of young women in the town centre, with their awful bleached and coloured mops, and showing their legs and cleavage off, I just think how nice it would be to see them all with sensible skirts and blouses, and nice short haircuts without all those silly colours.”

“Quite right. It’s an absolute disgrace, the way they all carry on. A bit of old fashioned manners and discipline would do them the world of good.  Well, at least we’ll be sending these two home looking neat and tidy, and I’m sure they’ll be keeping themselves dressed respectably too, now.”

Sarah and Tina swapped places, and Tina was quickly bent over the washbasin, having the perm lotion rinsed out.

“Right, Missy. We just need to get you neutralised, and shaped up, and you’ll be done. Oh! Is she having a shampoo and set too?”

“Oh, yes please. Her mother will really appreciate her looking as smart as possible tomorrow.”

“Gran! Do I have to? Isn’t it enough that I’m having a perm?”

“Now, dear, don’t kick up a fuss. The perm is the least that you need, just to keep your hair tidy. It still needs to be set to look smart for special occasions. I know your mother is having hers done, and I think that it’s simply good manners on your part to look presentable for once.”

Gladys’ sharp tongue showed that she was in no mood to compromise on her standards, now she had the opportunity to enforce them.

Tina rolled her eyes, but was in no position to argue, with Moira now busily applying the freezing cold neutraliser.

At least, she thought, the set will wash out. I’m stuck with the perm. I suppose I’m just going to have to get used to being a curly girl again.

Moira juggled her two clients efficiently, and before long, Sarah was enduring the neutraliser and Tina was once again grimacing as Moira set to work with her comb and scissors.

“I’m just taking the ends off, and shaping her up so she’ll look nice and neat, even when it’s not set.”

Little wisps of curly hair drifted past Tina’s face. She wasn’t sure how much hair she would be left with, but it felt at least as short as the cuts she’d endured as a teenager.

“Head down please.” Moira didn’t wait, but pushed Tina’s chin down onto her chest, and switched on a loudly buzzing set of clippers. “Now you said you wanted it well off her collar, didn’t you?”

Gladys nodded her approval, and the clippers roared up into Tina’s tight curls, stripping her neck bare.

“I do think a perm looks so much smarter with a nice clean neck.” Moira remarked conversationally. “All my ladies get a good clipping before they get out of the chair.”

She continued with the clippers until she was satisfied that Tina’s hair met her exacting standards. Whilst Tina had experienced clippers on her neck before, that had been limited to very minor tidying up of stray hairs. Moira went much further, raising her hairline well above the collar of her blouse, just as she did for her most traditional and conservative ladies, like Gladys.

“There you go. I’ve taken her four fingers above the collar, just like yours Gladys.”

“Thank you dear. I’ll just have to make sure that she keeps it that way, now.”

Tina was in turmoil. Her resolve to smile and make the best of the situation had begun to evaporate when Gladys insisted on her receiving a prim old ladies’ shampoo and set, and as Moira casually gave her the raised hairline preferred by her grandmother’s generation, she wondered just how she had allowed this to happen. Sarah, watching as her perm neutralised, could see the tortured expressions play across Tina’s face, and realised that she would have to calm her down as soon as she could.

“That does look very smart, Tina.” she remarked, encouragingly. “Your mum’s going to be really happy to see you all neatly clipped like that.”

Sarah wasn’t quite sure what effect this would have, it was just the first thing that had come into her head, but it worked better than she could have hoped. Tina remembered why she was doing this, and that she had resolved to honour her promise and make her mum happy, and she relaxed. She realised that even if she didn’t particularly like the hairstyle that she was given, she could take pride in the commitment she had shown to keeping her word, and respecting her family’s values. She smiled at Sarah.

“Thank you Sarah, it’s a bit of a shock, but I’m sure you’re right; Mum will be really happy.”

Sarah was now ready for rinsing, and soon she too was experiencing Moira’s chattering clippers running high up the back of her neck. Tina watched, unable to resist running her hand over her own newly bared nape as she watched her friend being given the same severely traditional high neckline.

Sarah felt the blades running far higher than Maureen usually took them, and felt an inexplicable thrill as she realised that Moira was treating her just like one of her usual mature clients, and she was going to be leaving the salon with exactly the same hairstyle as Gladys.

Since Sarah and Tina’s hair was now so short, it took very little time for Moira to wind them both  in little pink spiky rollers, and sit them, soaked in setting lotion and wrapped in hairnets, under two noisy hood dryers. Tina had pouted and rolled her eyes at Sarah while she was being rolled up, but had refrained from complaining any more, being more or less resigned to looking like her grandmother, at least for the rest of the weekend.

Sarah was removed from the dryer first, and Moira quickly stripped her of her rollers, and briskly combed her out, teasing the curls into a modest, rounded bouffant helmet. Sarah was handed a plastic visor, and Moira gave her two thorough coats of the old-fashioned lacquer which she had now come to expect at the end of any visit to the hairdressers.

Sarah looked at her reflection. This was definitely the shortest, and plainest hairstyle that she had yet been given. Moira’s enthusiasm with the clippers meant that her hairline was now comfortably above the bottom of her ears, but the sides had been left relatively unscathed, so that her rigid curls now covered a little of the top of her ears. It was very much a stereotypical little-old-lady hairstyle, and she felt that she looked, despite what she had expected, much more modest and unassuming than Gladys, whose sculpted waves actually looked rather elegant and sophisticated compared to Sarah’s uniform, tight bubble.

“Is that all right for you, Gladys?” Moira obviously wasn’t interested in what Sarah thought of her hair, but sought approval from the older woman.

“Oh yes, that’s quite the improvement. I’m sure her mother will be very pleased with her.”

“Up you get, then. Your turn now, Missy.”

Tina reluctantly made  her way over to the chair. Despite her resolve to keep her word, she had seen just how plain and frumpy Sarah looked, and wasn’t looking forward to spending the next couple of days wearing a stiffly lacquered helmet of curls. She wondered how it would look when she’d washed out all of the lacquer. Would she be able to get her straighteners on it for work on Monday? She could at least try to make it look like a short pixie cut, rather than an old-fashioned poodle?

Moira repeated the process, teasing Tina’s tight curls into a replica of Sarah’s. Tina’s head was pushed about roughly, and Moira seemed to be taking a certain amount of pleasure in her disquiet.

“It’s going to be quite the change for you, eh, Missy?” she crowed. “A nice neat little head of curls instead of those scruffy locks hanging in your face. You’re going to look like a proper, respectable young lady now.”

She handed Tina the visor and soaked her hair with lacquer.

“Bring her back any time.” She told Gladys. “It’s important to get her into a routine. Regular trims and perms, and sets whenever you want her to look smart.”

“Do you hear that, Tina? Regular trims. I want that hair staying out of your face now, Hmm?”

“Yes, Gran.” Tina rolled her eyes at Sarah, again.

Moira removed the cape from Tina’s neck, and re-tied her blouse bow, neatly and tightly.

“Now, remember, girls, those are fresh perms, so you can’t wash your hair for at least three days, preferably four. Understand?”

Tina’s eyes widened.

“But three days time is Tuesday! That means I’ll have to go to work with it looking like this! What’s everyone in the office going to say?”

“I expect they’ll all say how smart you look, for once.” Gladys replied acidly. “With any luck your boss will tell you to keep it that way.”

They left the hairdresser’s, Gladys beaming triumphantly, whilst Tina was slowly coming to terms with her situation. She had pragmatically concluded that she was stuck with her short curly hair, and that, realistically, it was going to be too short to straighten. The way to make the best of this, she decided, was to embrace it; she would take pride in looking smart for her family, she would present herself at work on Monday with the same prim and formal set she had now, and when it was time to wash the set out, she would let it dry naturally and allow the world to see her as a neat and curly little poodle.

Sitting on the bus on the way home, Tina saw a woman about her own age, with long, poker straight blonde locks and a faceful of makeup staring at Sarah and her. She was clearly baffled that two young women would allow themselves to be seen in public with such old-fashioned hairstyles, never mind their well-scrubbed faces and prim skirts and blouses. Tina turned away, giving the onlooker a better view of the expanse of clean neck above her collar. She caught her reflection in the window and allowed a small smile to cross her lips.

Also published at https://f35hstories.wordpress.com/

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