Danielle 2 – Chasing the Sweet Smell of Revenge

Wednesday – Recollecting

The day had begun much like any other with me catching up with my best friend, Victoria, or Tori as I referred to her. We were sitting together at the bistro table outside our shops, located on a quaint lane that ran from the market square up to the council offices. We were contemplatively sipping our coffees and puffing our vapes, reviewing the astonishing events twenty-four hours earlier.

Colin Jones – or Mr Nice-but-Dim to use the derogatory nickname we had coined for him – regularly passed by our table each morning. Whenever he saw Tori, he made his amorous hopes and desires clear. My friend did not reciprocate his interest for a variety of reasons, not least because of his poor fashion sense and scruffy hair. He wore his hair unfashionably long in a misguided and fruitless attempt to disguise his thinning locks.

Tori had obtained a doctored a vape liquid of dubious origin. She had told me that a person who breathed it in would be susceptible to suggestion. Despite my doubts, I had coaxed Colin into letting me shave him bald in my barbershop. Fortunately, a valuable side effect of exposure to the vapour was that the subject forgot what happened during the period of a couple of hours from inhalation until the effect wore off.

Although I should have felt guilty using the vapour on Colin, he had been repeatedly rude to me and that provided sufficient justification in my mind. Furthermore, there was little doubt that his appearance had improved immeasurably, although still not attractive enough to be of any interest to Tori.

The use of the vape liquid on Colin had been something of a trial run before using it on my designated target. I was seeking revenge on Miss Alison Tattershare, the esteemed mayor of our town. Allie Titsanhair, as I dubbed her, had stolen Ethan, my boyfriend, of two years. She needed to learn a lesson, as did my ex, and relieving her of the hair she valued so highly would cause them both great distress.

Overnight, I had worried that the vape liquid might not work so well on the mayor. She was far more confident and forthright than Colin, and I was concerned that she might show more resistance to the effects. However, as soon as she passed by, I looked forward to putting the vapour, and her will power, to the test!

Wednesday – Repeating

‘Good morning, Colin,’ Tori called out as Mr Nice-but-Dim was strolling up the lane to the council offices where he worked. Clearly preoccupied, he appeared to be walking right past us without stopping. That was unusual as he invariably kept an eye out for Tori and then homed in on her if she had not gone into hiding quickly enough. ‘You’re looking very dashing and bald today,’ she continued, winking at me to acknowledge her deliberate replacement of the word “bold”.

Colin stood before us, adopting the vague and gormless expression he had shown when under the influence of the vape liquid. And then he smiled. ‘Bald as a baby’s bottom,’ he recited, but acting as if he had said nothing.

It was a phrase we had used the day before to describe his transformed appearance when he was still under the influence of the vapour. I had deduced that, however unlikely, the “bald” word now prompted his subconscious to recite that phrase. It was slightly mischievous but highly amusing.

‘Sorry, Victoria, I must have misheard you,’ Colin apologised, looking perplexed. ‘I thought you said I looked dashing and, er, something else.’

‘What? Dashing and bald?’ I chimed in.

‘Bald as a baby’s bottom,’ he recited again, without inflexion or, it seemed, knowledge of what he was saying.

‘What were you saying about babies, Colin?’ I asked innocently.

‘Babies?’ he repeated, looking confused and shaking his head. ‘I did not say anything about babies! Why would I say anything about babies?’

I shrugged. ‘Sorry, Colin, the wind was must have jumbled up the words.’

Tori murmured quietly so only I could hear. ‘I spoke about that phenomenon with my supplier last night. When under the influence, an individual’s mind may be deliberately or inadvertently implanted with a trigger word. Hearing it will cause them to say the same thing whenever they hear that word. Over time the effect will wear off, although the timescales vary depending on the subject,’ my friend explained.

‘Oops,’ I laughed, and Tori joined in.

Suddenly there was a gust of wind along the lane. Colin’s hand reactively shot to his head, as it had the day before when he still had his comb-over. On that occasion, the ridiculously long layers had fluttered around his head like a clown. Feeling his bald head, Colin screwed up his eyes as if trying to make sense of what he was feeling. Then he slowly lowered his hand, appearing relieved that his hair was unruffled even if he did not immediately grasp that it was because he had no hair.

‘Yes, right, well, I must rush, Victoria, as I have an important meeting to attend,’ he announced pompously, as if we were deliberately keeping him, ‘but I would like to catch up -’

‘When you’re in that meeting, Colin,’ I interrupted, trying to save my friend from another of his attempts to cajole into a date, ‘just make sure you’re masterful and bald.’

‘Bald as a baby’s bottom,’ he parroted automatically, oblivious to having said it. ‘Yes, I’m always masterful at work, thank you,’ he claimed arrogantly before marching off to undertake his lowly role in the council offices.

After a short distance, Colin paused, and he looked at my barbershop on his left. He examined it closely, narrowing his eyes and frowning, as if believing it was concealing a deep secret. He scratched his bald head, shrugged, and then meandered up the lane.

‘If he reacts the same way to that word with everyone, let’s hope for his sake that his colleagues do not comment on his shaved head too often during the meeting,’ Tori remarked, before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

Wednesday – Targeting

‘Good morning, ladies,’ Mayor Alison Tattershare called out as she pranced up the lane towards us.

Nose in the air as always, barely glancing our way. The day’s outfit included a tailored designer suit in pink and white checks. On the face of it, a classy choice, but not with a skirt stretched firmly over her bum, barely covering it. Or wearing a blazer fastened so tight that it forced her breasts skywards, so they followed the same trajectory as her pointy nose. And then, bringing up the rear, quite literally, was that thick blonde ponytail of hers. Secured firmly at her crown, the neatly trimmed ends skimmed the hem of her skirt as she sashayed past us.

Her cheap sexy presence angered me as much as it had ever done since she stole Ethan, my boyfriend of two years. So, with no consideration for any consequences, I pressed long and hard on the button of Tori’s doctored vaping device. Despite the success with Colin the day before, I remained dubious that it would be as effective on a more assertive person. However, I still felt great satisfaction as I watched a huge cloud of vapour rolling down the lane towards my target. Then, settling over her like an early morning fog, Allie Titsanhair vanished from our view.

Following irritated coughing from within the mist, the mayor’s commanding voice rang out. ‘Well, thank you very much!’ she loudly objected, her words dripping with sarcasm. As she appeared from the ethereal smoke as if she were a singer on a stage, I gave her another blast from the vaping device for good measure.

‘Excuse me!’ she demanded indignantly. ‘Look, you! Do you mind?’

‘Sorry, is there a problem?’ I enquired innocently.

‘There most certainly is,’ the mayor grumbled, brushing herself down in a pointless and ineffective gesture. ‘My outfit and my person are now suffused with disgusting cigarette smoke.’

‘It’s just a vape,’ I corrected. ‘So, it’s only water vapour.’

‘And a little something else,’ Tori giggled under her breath, and I kicked her under the table, barely able to conceal my amusement.

‘Huh, what was that?’ she asked, staring us down, through narrowed eyes, in an attempt at intimidation. Such was her forceful stare, it nearly worked. ‘Pah, it does not matter, she smirked, ‘as I have recommended to my colleagues in the council that those disgusting things are banned from all outdoor public spaces, as well as indoors.’

‘Really,’ I said casually. ‘You make it sound like you own the town.’

‘What?’ she spat angrily. ‘You do know why I am, don’t you?’

‘No,’ I shrugged, taking a delicate puff from my own unmodified vape to deliberately antagonise her further.

The mayor’s eyes widened in disbelief on hearing my untruthful admission. Her mouth opened as if to rebuke me for not recognising her, then it silently closed once more.

Narrowing my eyes in a parody of her stare, I made a pantomime of appraising her in more detail. ‘Oh, yes, it’s Miss Titsanhair,’ I announced with joyful recognition, saying it in such a rush that the constituent syllables were not too obvious.

‘What?’ the mayor demanded dramatically, clearly incensed by what she thought she might have heard. Fortunately, at that very moment, a distraction came in form of a violent gust of wind driving up the lane. The mayor’s smooth and artfully arranged ponytail rose up from her bottom on the strong breeze. Subsequently, rather than trailing neatly behind her, the thick rope comically swung around her neck like a scarf, completely covering her features. The intervention could not have timed itself better.

‘It’s very windy today, isn’t it?’ I innocently remarked, while the mayor endeavoured to get her hair under control. As she did so, I noticed that the resentment that had clouded her features appeared to have eased. Indeed, her expression had become neutral, detached, almost vacant.

‘Yes, it is very windy today,’ she admitted.

‘But still very warm for the time of day,’ I lied, the chill of the morning not yet lifted.

‘Phew, yes, it is very warm too,’ the mayor confirmed, responding to my words rather than the actual temperature. She ran a hand up her neck to keep her abundant tresses from covering it. ‘That’s peculiar as I had not noticed the heat before you mentioned it.’

‘I imagine having all that hair is a real problem, isn’t it, what with the strong wind and the high temperature?’ I proposed. ‘Don’t you find it too long and inconvenient?’

‘No, I never have … well, not really,’ she said, but looking anguished, as if mentally she was challenging her own doubts. ‘Besides, I like my hair long and so does Ethan, my boyfriend.’ It was plain that the stronger-willed Mayor Tattershare was more resistant to the stupefying effects of the vapour than Colin had been. ‘It is satisfactory in a ponytail,’ she added dismissively.

‘If you always wear it in a ponytail to counter the unfavourable weather conditions then it would be better for you to wear it up in a bun or, better still, have your hair cut shorter,’ Tori piped up amiably. ‘There’s a place next door that would be able to help you.’

Wednesday – Ensnaring

Mayor Alison Tattershare narrowed her eyes and studied The Lanes Barbershop. She did so in the manner of never having noticed it before, despite passing it every day. ‘But that is a men’s barbershop,’ she scoffed. Adjusting her tone and sounding less assured, she added ‘I frequent Elegant Locks, a specialist long hair salon in the city. I have just my ends trimmed regularly by a professional stylist. Surely this establishment is just for men, is it not?’ she questioned pompously, patting her ample locks.

‘No, not at all,’ Tori countered heartily. ‘And this is Danielle. She is a professional stylist, and she is the owner of these premises.’

‘Oh, hello, Danielle,’ the mayor said politely, as if had never seen me before. That was despite walking past me daily and rebuking me ten minutes earlier for blowing vapour in her face.

‘Good morning, Mayor,’ I replied.

‘Danielle!’ she suddenly blurted out, narrowing her eyes in concentration. ‘Danielle?’ she questioned, piercing me with her stare. ‘I am sure I know that name. Oh, it is infuriating. It is on the tip of my tongue …’

‘It’s a common enough name,’ Tori interceded.

‘No, it is not,’ the mayor disagreed haughtily. Frustrated by her lack of recall, she demanded, ‘look, do I know you?’

‘No, you don’t,’ I stated emphatically, hoping to suppress her desire to trawl through the clouded recesses of her mind.

‘Oh, right, well that is fair enough,’ she shrugged amiably in a complete reversal of her behaviour, her features reverting to their vague and passive facade.

I decided it was time to strike. ‘So, Miss Titsanhair -’

She giggled. ‘No, it is Tattershare. I am Mayor Alison Tattershare.’

‘Indeed, you are, Mayor,’ I confirmed, kicking myself for my accidental jibe, although she seemed unperturbed, even amused. ‘So, given the weather conditions and the ragged condition of the ends of your hair, I recommend that you follow my friend’s suggestion and allow me to examine your hair. I will then be delighted to provide alternative hairstyle recommendations?’

She stared right back at me, as she endeavoured to decipher my intricate sentences. Her usually strong features took on a hint of the gormless appearance that Colin had shown the day before when things became too complicated.

‘Thank you,’ she said politely, ‘but I usually go to Elegant Locks, a specialist long hair salon in the city, where they know how to care for my long hair.’

‘Danielle is very experienced,’ Tori chimed in. ‘She will know exactly what to do with your long hair, especially taking into consideration these warm and windy conditions. And she is just here and, as the mayor of our fine town, you are a woman who acts decisively.’

The mayor turned her head around to face my friend. ‘Experienced, you say?’ Tori nodded. ‘And it is remarkably warm and windy today, so a more practical way of styling my hair would be sensible, would it not?’

‘Yes, Mayor, it certainly would,’ Tori confirmed.

‘And I am decisive!’ she affirmed, before giggling which lessened the impact of her assertion.

‘Indeed, you are, Mayor,’ Tori agreed, ‘and Danielle could do it for you now. Go for it, Miss Tattershare!’

The mayor looked at me and smiled. ‘Yes, please, Danielle,’ she said pleasantly, before marching to the threshold of my premises and waiting patiently for me to join her.

Wednesday – Inviting

It was a sight that was as unexpected as it was astonishing. My ex-boyfriend’s new partner – the town’s mayor who had stolen Ethan from me – was waiting patiently outside my barbershop. With her long hair streaming down her back and, having requested a haircut from me, it was a dream come true!

I eased past her and invited her into my premises. Unsurprisingly, Tori excitedly followed us inside. She perched herself in the waiting area by the window and looked at me expectantly.

‘Please take a seat, Mayor,’ I encouraged, as she hovered just inside the shop, appearing lost.

Observing her surroundings, the mayor’s expression flitted between vague interest and total confusion. Curiosity over her unfashionable surroundings and bafflement at how she had ended up there. Glancing at the clock on the wall, panic suddenly clouded her features. ‘I have an important meeting to go to at work,’ she remarked hesitantly, not fully unconvinced.

‘I’m sure you do, Mayor,’ I agreed. ‘But you need to be cool and unflappable during this warm and windy weather, don’t you?’ I insisted, leaving her little scope to argue.

She narrowed her eyes, frowning. ‘Sorry, Danielle, you are, of course, completely correct. How did I forget that?’ she concurred, shaking her head and looking bemused.

‘Delayed by a few moments won’t be a problem, Mayor,’ Tori called out from the waiting area. ‘You’ll want to be fresh and composed for your meeting, won’t you?’

‘No, it will not be a problem,’ she declared pompously. ‘I need to be fresh and composed for my meeting and, after all, I am the mayor,’ she asserted smugly.

‘You certainly are, Miss Tattershare,’ I agreed. ‘Now, please take seat.’

‘Thank you.’ Her vague and neutral expression returned, and she slipped past me before easing herself into my barber’s chair.

Wednesday – Pouncing

‘So, Mayor Tattershare, given the high temperatures and windy conditions at this time of year, you should wear your hair much shorter,’ I said, fingering her highly desirable ponytail. ‘And, due to your prominent position in the town, a more conservative and mature style would be appropriate too, wouldn’t it?’

‘Oh, but I like it, er, long …’ she began, the confused and distressed look returning to cloud her features. ‘Yes, Ethan, my boyfriend says I must never cut it as it was the main thing that attracted him to me,’ she blurted out, her mind clearly in turmoil.

‘Isn’t that rather shallow of him?’ I demanded, with genuine emotion but far more forcefully than I had intended.

She visibly flinched. ‘Yes, Ethan is shallow,’ she admitted nervously, recoiling from my emotional outburst.

I heard Tori giggling behind me at the mayor’s unexpected admission, but I managed to keep my cool.

‘Before me,’ the mayor went on, ‘Ethan told me that he had dated a woman with hair so short that people thought she was a lesbian. Furthermore, whenever he asked her to grow it longer, she always refused.’

I was unaware that anyone other than Ethan had expressed that view regarding my sexuality. Furthermore, despite knowing short hair suited me, I had repeatedly asked him if he would like me to grow my hair longer. Learning that Ethan had lied about me to his new girlfriend made my quest for revenge even more compelling and desirable.

‘Really, I huffed. ‘Well, as you can see, Mayor, my hair is short,’ I pointed out, ‘so, do I look like a lesbian?’

Wednesday – Insulting

The mayor studied me closely, as if she had never seen me before. ‘Yes, actually, you do look like a lesbian,’ she chuckled. ‘No offence,’ she squealed with delight, and laughed even louder.

I accepted she might be less cautious about expressing her thoughts due to breathing the vapour. However, on hearing her unfiltered personal remarks incensed me, and only added fuel to my thirst for revenge.

‘So, Mayor, you wish to go for it, do you?’ I questioned bluntly, ignoring her insulting outburst.

Her blank expression suggested that she could not recall what we had proposed just a couple of minutes earlier.

‘You remember, Mayor?’ I pressed, injecting a sense of urgency. ‘You said that you wish to go what we discussed earlier.’

‘Of course I remember,’ she said indignantly. ‘Please go for it,’ she added, paraphrasing my earlier proposal.

‘I will be happy to “go for it”, Mayor, although I wonder,’ I said, pausing momentarily, ‘if you may also wish to consider addressing another pressing matter that your previous hairdresser has not expressed as well as they might.’

‘Huh?’ she grunted, a look of confusion once again taking over her bland features as she tried to decipher my deliberately obfuscated sentence.

‘I am referring to the matter of your excessively long hair which, although well cared for, is rather immature on a major public figure such as yourself.’

‘Excuse me,’ she interjected indignantly, ‘I like my hair long and so does Ethan, my boyfriend. Furthermore, my hairdresser makes recommendations concerning my hair based on my instructions.’

‘But Mayor, Danielle is your hairdresser now,’ Tori chimed in. ‘So, shouldn’t you to listen to her recommendations?’

‘Er …’ she grunted, narrowing her eyes, concentrating hard, elusively searching for his ability to understand our rationale. Finally, she sighed, before chuckling loudly. ‘Of course she is … er, so she must do what’s necessary,’ she said, looking relieved. Then, after a long pause, she added, looking bemused, ‘and, er, that is?’

I sighed loudly, an act that successfully put the mayor back on the defensive. ‘You wish to avoid looking immature with your girly ponytail, so we must chop it off, Mayor,’ I stated matter-of-factly. ‘Then give you a neat and tidy bobbed hairstyle, which will keep you cool during the hot weather and not fly all over the place in the wind. A mature style befitting a well-respected public figure.’

‘Yes, that’s right,’ she chuckled, but then she looked anguished and fearful. It was as if her mind was struggling with her decision to change something that she held dear. I wondered if I had pushed her too far or forced her along too quickly. ‘But my long hair …’ she wailed. ‘Ethan, er … we, um …’

‘You will look wonderfully mature, Mayor,’ Tori chimed in, ‘and this what you want and need.’

‘Yes, it is,’ she declared, her doubt visibly lifting, leaving no evidence of conflict in her mind. ‘Go for it, Danielle. Cut off my ponytail and give me a neat and tidy bobbed style, please.’

Wednesday – Accepting

The mayor’s neutral expression returned as she stared straight ahead into the mirror. I draped a cape over her and tied it securely around her neck. I took my most powerful hairclippers from the hook by the mirror, and I removed the guard. An insistent buzzing sound filled the shop.

‘Bees!’ the mayor blurted out with no variation to her passive features.

‘No, it’s my hairclippers making the noise, Mayor,’ I explained. ‘It’s the most efficient way to remove your ponytail.’

‘Of course,’ she giggled. ‘We like efficiency, don’t we?’

‘Indeed, we do,’ I confirmed, placing the shining blade of the Osters against the base of the long thick ponytail pluming from her crown. Without pausing for further inane comments, I thrust the clippers into her secured locks and forced the blade through the resisting hair. Even with the powerful hairclippers it took a considerable time to separate the thick hair from her head.

‘There we are, Allie Titsanhair,’ I announced, holding up her ponytail like a trophy so she could view it in the mirror. ‘That got rid of the worst of it, hasn’t it.’

‘It certainly has,’ the mayor spontaneously agreed, but at the same time narrowed up her eyes as if trying to make sense of her disembodied reflection. ‘Thank you, Danielle. I cannot believe I had been carting all that hair around for so long.

Tori jumped up and took the superfluous ponytail from my grasp, leaving me to ponder what to do with the small amount of hair that remained on the mayor’s head. Released from the ponytail, clumps of her former glorious tresses stuck out at wayward angle around her head. I contemplated whether I should have severed her ponytail further from the scalp, but I appeased my conscience with the knowledge that she deserved it.

However, the remnants of her hair did look truly awful. I considered sending her on her way to see if she could explain her ridiculous avant garde “hairstyle” to anyone that might show an interest but decided that, even for me, that was a step too far.

‘Now I will transform the hair that remains into a neat and tidy bobbed style,’ I explained, having come to a decision on how to proceed.

‘Um, Danielle, will it be … er, short,’ the mayor asked nervously.

‘Yes, Mayor Tattershare, it will be exceedingly short,’ I declared with a broad smile.

‘Oh dear …’ she blinked as if holding back tears. ‘Er, my boyfriend is not going to like that … er, is he?’

‘No, Mayor, he isn’t it,’ I agreed smugly.

‘Oh …’ she squeezed her eyes tight shut, unsure how to react.

Wednesday – Applying

I combed through the mayor’s remaining locks, so they hung messily around her head. I had created a poor apology for a bob. The ends were uneven and, even at their longest, they barely reached her chin. Her hair looked terrible.

Taking the hairclippers once more, inverting the blade, I edged it through the hair that hung sorrowfully around her head. Working carefully from above one ear, before moving around the back of her head, and then to her other ear, I ensured the perimeter of the bob was level. The cap of remaining hair covering her crown sat high above her ears and exposed her neck.

Satisfied with my progress, I continued the clipped border around to the front, creating a short blunt fringe high up on her forehead. It served to place even greater emphasis on her wide-eyed shock at what was happening to her. I silenced the clippers and the shop went silent.

‘Looking good, Mayor,’ Tori called out from behind us, gently fingering the woman’s former ponytail in her lap as if it was an exotic pet.

‘No, it’s too … er, it’s not…’ the mayor squealed, but gave no other sign that anything untoward had occurred.

‘It’s not finished yet, Mayor,’ I said calmly, combing through the bowl-like shape perched on her head and admiring the precision of my work. ‘I need to tidy up the back and sides,’ I explained.

‘Excuse me! Hang on! Are you Ethan’s former girlfriend?’ she suddenly blurted out in a moment of clarity, staring at my reflection in the mirror with her piercing gaze.

I exchanged worried glances with Tori. I was concerned that strong willed Miss Titsanhair might be overcoming the effects of the vapour faster than Colin had managed.

‘Well?’ she demanded when I did not answer her straight away.

‘Yes,’ I said nonchalantly, shrugging as I spoke. ‘What of it?’

‘Oh, it is just that if I did not know better, I might think you were cutting off my hair for revenge,’ she giggled nervously.

I politely joined in with her laughter. ‘Yes, that’s right,’ I admitted.

‘Oh … er, I see,’ she narrowed her eyes, trying to make sense of my revelation.

‘Don’t worry, though, as you won’t remember my admission or anything that went on here after you’ve left here,’ I explained.

‘Oh … er, that’s fine then,’ she tittered hesitantly, unconvinced by her voiced acceptance.

Taking my foil shaver, I prepared to remove the stubble from the back and sides of her head. ‘Now, Mayor, I will just finish you off, and then you will look neat and tidy for your important meeting, as well as looking suitably mature.’

Each pass of the shaver revealed a wider expanse of smooth and dazzlingly skin. ‘More bees,’ the mayor remarked, her expression staying neutral.

‘Yes, Mayor,’ I lied, remembering from the day before that it was easier – and quieter – to go with the flow.

She smiled inanely, looking smug, having explained the noise to her own satisfaction.

‘There we are, Mayor Tattershare. All done,’ I announced, flicking away the cape and then holding up a mirror so she could view her transformed appearance from all angles.

‘Oh … er, but it is very short,’ she eventually asserted, her eyes wide with astonishment as she studied her half bald head.

‘Yes, it is,’ I confirmed. ‘There was an entire world of distinctive styles I could have chosen for you, but this one meets all the requirement for you to look neater and more mature. You look at least ten years older,’ I told her smugly.

‘Oh …’ she murmured, visibly trembling.

‘Twenty years, I would say,’ Tori chimed in and, looking at the mayor more objectively, I had to agree.

‘Oh!’ she squeaked, panic in her voice. ‘What will, er, Ethan -’

‘So, from now on,’ I stepped in, interrupting her worried flow of words, ‘whenever anyone laments the loss of your long hair, remarking that you have a bowlcut, then you must proudly recall that, henceforth, the bowlcut is your world.’

When I finished talking, the mayor halted her examination of her new hairstyle and narrowed her eyes as she stared directly at me.

‘Bowlcut is my World?’ she questioned, rolling the words around her mouth as if trying them for size.

Wednesday – Reciting

‘Yes, that’s right, Mayor Tattershare,’ I patiently confirmed. ‘You now present a vision of neatness and maturity with your lovely neat bowlcut.’

‘Bowlcut is my World,’ she recited proudly, wearing a smug expression as she reacted to trigger word I had mischievously planted in her mind.

‘So, Mayor, what do you think of your new hairstyle?’ Tori chimed in.

‘Well, it is … er, ever so short …’ she remarked, her earlier confidence quickly evaporating, ‘so I am not really sure …’

‘Not sure, Mayor?’ Tori demanded. ‘Danielle has given you a wonderfully smart hairstyle that will keep you cool in the heat and remain under control in the wind. Furthermore, to ensure you look more mature, the best choice for you is a bowlcut.’

‘Bowlcut is my World,’ the mayor sang out with no sign she was aware she had said it.

Tori and I exchanged amused glances.

‘Look, it is not a laughing, er … not a matter for, um …’ the mayor complained, her smile faltering as she battled the effects of the vapour.

‘What were you trying to say, Mayor?’ Tori chimed in. ‘Were you remarking that you are looking so much more mature and professional with your bowlcut?’

The mayor screwed up her eyes, concentrating hard. ‘Yes, exactly,’ she agreed, relief flooding her features having received a solution for her predicament. ‘Bowlcut is my World,’ she nodded sagely.

I put down the hand mirror and invited her to stand, informing her of the cost of her haircut. As with Colin, I thought I was pushing it by charging her, but she handed over cash for double what I had asked for. ‘Thank you, that’s very reasonable, er … of you … please keep the change, er … you.’

‘Thanks, Mayor,’ I said gratefully, pleased that she had forgotten my name, suggesting her mind was reverting to its former state. ‘And I do so hope your boyfriend likes your transformed appearance,’ I added, my voice dripping with undisguised sarcasm.

She screwed up her eyes as she tried to understand the potential impact of what I had said. ‘Oh … er … so do I,’ she mumbled unconvincingly.

Wednesday – Leaving

‘Well, cheerio, Mayor,’ I said breezily, ‘and I do hope you attract plenty of comments about your lovely bowlcut.’

‘Cheerio,’ she echoed, marching to the door. At the threshold, she turned her head to face me. ‘Bowlcut is my World!’

With that, Mayor Tattershare pushed the door, and she was gone. Or, rather, she stood in the narrow lane outside our shops, looking first one way and then the other, appearing confused as to where she should go next.

Down the lane was where Mayor Tattershare had come from, and up the lane she would find the council offices where she worked. She took three steps in the wrong direction then, mercifully, spun around and slowly made her way up the lane.

I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall when she arrived at her offices, and all her colleagues remarked on her fresh bowlcut!

Thursday – Ditching

‘Good morning, Mayor,’ Tori, my best friend, called out as a preoccupied Miss Alison Tattershare strutted up the lane in a tailored red skirt suit. ‘You’re looking particularly smart and professional today.’

It was the day after I had stripped the mayor of her stunning long hair. I had transformed it into a neat bowlcut while she had been under the influence of the chemically enhanced vape juice acquired by Tori.

The mayor stopped and narrowed her eyes, staring at us sipping our early morning coffee outside our shops. Although she was polite to every potential voter in the town, it was unusual for her to pause her journey. Despite passing us every day, she had never remembered our names. She had not even been aware that I was the former girlfriend of Ethan, her new partner.

On this occasion, the mayor’s expression suggested she was unsure whether Tori was being sarcastic about her appearance. After a moment’s thought, she shook her head, as if dismissing the notion. ‘Thank you. Yes, I have had my hair cut short to -’

‘To look more mature?’ I chimed in, smirking.

‘Yes,’ she smiled. ‘Well, no … er, no, not mature … as I am still young … but because it has been so unusually hot and -’

‘And remarkably windy?’ Tori volunteered with a grin.

‘Exactly,’ she confirmed, staring back at us blankly. It was as if the use of the words and phrases we had used the previous day had placed her back in the trance-like state.

‘Oh, and does your partner appreciate your more mature and professional appearance?’ I asked, adopting a look of pure innocence.

‘Er, well, no, he is not too keen, actually …’ she stuttered. ‘As soon as my boyfriend saw my new hairstyle, he ditched me straight away,’ she recollected, showing no emotion or disappointment.

‘Oh dear, I am so sorry,’ I lied, turning to hide my giggles, wondering how Ethan was feeling at that moment.

The mayor shrugged. ‘Oh well, ladies … cheerio,’ she said happily, and began marching up the lane towards the council offices. Where once her ponytail had swung, her bowlcut now bounced up and down with each step, swishing back and forth over her shaved nape.

‘Cheerio, Miss Tits-and-no-hair,’ I quipped, keeping my voice low so only Tori could hear my modified epithet for my nemesis. Raising my voice a little, I went on. ‘I think she looks very mature with her bowlcut.’

‘Bowlcut is my World,’ Mayor Tattershare called out without missing a step, drawing amused glances from all those around.

Tori and I picked up our coffee cups and tapped them together. ‘Cheers, Tori, and thanks for all your help. Revenge is sweet!’

Knowing that Ethan and Miss Titsanhair had split up was music to my ears, and it made a wonderful start to my day. That was until a high-pitched voice began yelling from down the lane.

Thursday – Uniting

‘Excuse me!’ the freshly shaved Mr Nice-but-Dim called out as he hurried along the lane in our direction.

Fearing that Colin may have remembered something about his shaving earlier in the week, both Tori and I looked around for somewhere to quickly hide. However, to our great relief, he was ignoring us and desperately trying to attract the attention of the departing Mayor Tattershare. Like her, he also worked for the council, but he was far more junior, and it was unlikely they worked closely together. So, his informal hailing of her in the street was a surprise.

‘Mayor Tattershare,’ he said, puffed from running up the lane. ‘Oh, my goodness, I wasn’t even sure if it was you!’ he squealed. ‘I’m so used to seeing you with your lovely long hair and now you have, er … well, a bowlcut.’

The mayor pierced Colin with an icy-cold stare, appraising his smooth and shining bald head. ‘Bowlcut is my World,’ she instinctively proclaimed, reacting to his accidental use of the trigger word I had planted in her mind, but being unaware she had said anything.

‘Sorry?’ Colin questioned, her sudden and peculiar announcement puzzling him. ‘What was that, Mayor?’

‘I never said anything, Jones,’ she scolded her junior. ‘Didn’t you used to have straggly thinning hair?’

‘No!’ he huffed. ‘I just chose to wear my hair in a longer, fashionable -’

‘Well, it is an improvement,’ she scoffed, interrupting his grumbling, ‘now that you are completely bald.’

‘Bald as a baby’s bottom,’ Colin recited proudly, without inflexion and, completely unaware of what he had said.

‘I beg your pardon, Jones?’ questioned the mayor, astonished by her employee’s informality and rudeness.

He simply shrugged, standing there, looking gormless, with just his presence clearly irritating his boss.

‘Are you suggesting, Jones,’ the mayor questioned, ‘that we make babies together?’

‘Babies?’ he echoed, looking confused and shaking his head. ‘I said nothing about babies! Why would I say anything about babies?’

‘Right, Jones, I will see you in my office at 11am sharp,’ the mayor demanded. ‘Inappropriate suggestions to a female colleague are an extremely serious disciplinary matter,’ the mayor spluttered, ‘so, 11am and do not be late!’

‘What?’ Colin whinnied, shaking his head, baffled by the mayor’s unpleasant attitude as she stormed off grumbling to herself about men. ‘I only wanted to say how nice your hair looked,’ he added, holding out his hands in submission … but Mayor Tattershare did not hear.

‘Oh dear, Dani,’ my best friend lamented. ‘I do hope that they are not too unhappy about their transformed appearance and that they receive plenty of compliments.’

‘Yes, me too, Tori,’ I agreed. ‘But let’s hope their colleagues do not remark on the names of their new hairstyles too often.’

We both dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Thursday – Revelling in the Sweet Smell of Revenge

The laughter that my best friend, Tori, and I shared was short lived. My phone alerted me to the arrival of a new message. From the notification tone, I knew exactly who it was.

me sorry dani xx should not have left you xx not cos of her long hair xx you are much nicer than her xx and just as you are xx so can we talk??? ethan xx

I showed my ex-boyfriend’s words to Tori before typing my brief response.

Not a chance loser … Revenge, a dish bowl best served cold!!

The End

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