Red Bob
I was at work late on Thursday afternoon, finalising the last of my reports, when there was a knock on my office door.
In came Zoe, with her phone in one hand.
“Sorry, Natalie, have you got a minute?”
“Of course.”
She closed the door behind her. I could tell that whatever she wanted wasn’t about work.
“I wanted to ask you something.”
“Yes. Is everything okay?”
She unlocked her phone and held it towards me. There was a fundraising page open on the screen.
“I’m donating my hair on Saturday. Would you please sponsor me?”
I looked at the page, then at her.
“Your hair?”
“Yes.”
My eyes went automatically to the long black hair falling over her shoulders. Even with part of it loosely tied back, it reached well down her back.
“How much are you donating?”
“Most of it. I know there’s a minimum length they need, but I haven’t decided exactly how much I’m having off.”
“That’s a big change.”
“I know.”
She smiled, although there was a little nervousness behind it.
“What made you decide to do this?”
“My hairdresser, Kim, mentioned it at my last appointment. The salon supports a charity that uses donated hair to make wigs for people who need them. It really touched me.”
“I can see why.”
I took her phone and entered a sponsorship amount.
“Natalie, God, that’s too much!”
“It’s fine. It’s a fantastic cause.”
“No, really. There’s being generous, and then there’s this.”
“Hopefully you’ll raise plenty more and mine won’t stand out.”
She laughed.
“Thank you. That’s amazing.”
I handed back her phone, but she didn’t get up.
“Can I ask you something else?”
“Yes, ask away.”
Her eyes went briefly to my hair.
“What’s it actually like having hair that short?”
I smiled.
“Liberating, actually. It’s easy to look after, and I’ve never regretted cutting it.”
“Do you ever miss having it long?”
“Occasionally. I enjoyed it long, and I enjoyed the different styles along the way. I just discovered I preferred it shorter.”
Zoe nodded.
“I think I’ve been waiting until I had a good enough reason to cut mine.”
“And the donation has given you one.”
“Yes. Although there’s a bit more to it.”
I waited. Zoe rarely brought much of her private life into work, and I wasn’t going to push her.
“Rafi and I have been talking a lot about the wedding,” she said.
“How’s that going?”
“Busy! Mum’s been helping me choose outfits and jewellery. We’ve spent hours going through things she’s kept over the years.”
“That sounds lovely.”
“It has been. Half the time we end up looking through old photographs instead of deciding anything. Mum gets so excited telling me who wore what, or which auntie gave her something.”
She smiled.
“It’s made me realise I’ve got all these beautiful things myself, and I hardly ever wear them.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t really know. I’ll wear them for Eid, family weddings or when I’m with Mum’s side of the family. But the rest of the time, I stick to the same clothes.”
“Your work blouses?”
“Exactly!”
She laughed.
“I’ve got a wardrobe full of things I love, and I come in here looking practically the same every day.”
“There’s nothing wrong with having a work wardrobe.”
“No, I know. And I don’t want to come in dressed for a wedding every morning.”
“Probably a little impractical.”
“Just a bit.”
She looked down at her hands.
“You know, growing up with Mum being Bangladeshi, all those things were part of everyday family life. But somewhere along the way I started keeping that side of things separate from work and everything else.”
“Was that something you felt you had to do?”
“Not really. Nobody ever told me to. I just got used to it.”
“So what’s changed?”
“The wedding, mostly. Seeing Mum enjoying all the preparations and getting both families involved. I’ve started wondering why I’m saving things I love for special occasions when I could enjoy them whenever I wanted.”
She paused, then touched one of the long lengths of hair falling over her shoulder.
“And there’s this. Mum’s been telling me for years to stop straightening it.”
I smiled.
“What does she say?”
“That I inherited the best part of her hair and spend forty minutes every morning trying to get rid of it.”
I laughed.
“She’s not wrong,” Zoe continued. “My hair has much more texture than anyone here ever sees. I’ve always straightened it because I thought it looked tidier, but now I think it’s just a habit.”
“So when Kim mentioned the donation…”
“I started thinking about doing something completely different. Give the length away, stop straightening what’s left, and see how I feel. I know it’s quite a decision with the wedding only three months away, but Rafi’s been really understanding.”
She sounded sure of herself, as she stood and picked up her phone.
“Have you decided what you’re having done afterwards?”
“Not exactly. I’ve talked to Kim about going much shorter, but we’re going to work out the style properly on Saturday.”
“Any particular ideas?”
“I’ve looked at a few, but I keep changing my mind. Maybe to around here.” She gestured to her jawline. “Kim’s been cutting my hair for years, so I trust her.”
“Anyway, I’d better get back to work.”
“I’ll look forward to hearing about it on Monday.”
“You certainly will.”
And with that, she went back to her desk.
⸻
I too had my own symbolic hair moment on Saturday morning, when Liz arrived for my second colour appointment.
She wasn’t supposed to be working that day, but she’d kindly agreed to fit me in before her afternoon plans.
I opened the front door and immediately smiled.
“Hey, look at you!”
Liz laughed.
“Good morning to you too.”
She looked fabulous.
She was wearing a short sage-green summer dress patterned with ivory flowers, with a matching headscarf tied above her forehead. Her curls were gathered into a voluminous updo, with her short fringe peeking out beneath the scarf.
“You look gorgeous. Going somewhere special?”
“I’m going to a festival this afternoon. A few of us girls are making a day of it.”
“Oh, lovely! I really appreciate you coming here first.”
“Consider it a favour. Besides, I know how impatient you’ve been for your next appointment.”
I laughed.
“Am I that obvious?”
“Only slightly.”
I looked at her again. Despite her hair being tied up, I could tell she’d had it cut.
“You’ve had a bit cut off, haven’t you?”
“You can tell! I was getting fed up with the length, so I had several inches taken off and some shorter layers put in.”
“You’ve got the bug?” I laughed
“You know what? I love it. I actually considered going even shorter.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I’ve rather enjoyed changing things lately.”
There was something particularly cheerful about her that morning.
“You seem very happy with yourself,” I said.
Liz grinned, then looked slightly bashful.
“Well, I might have been on a date.”
“A date? Liz! You kept that quiet!”
“I know. I wasn’t going to say anything until I knew whether it was going anywhere. And I’m still in two minds about it being too soon since Craig.”
“Tell me everything.” I said as we went through to the kitchen, where I settled into the chair while Liz unpacked her equipment.
“His name’s Esteban. I met him when I was out with some friends a couple of weeks ago. We got chatting, and he asked for my number. We went for a drink last weekend.”
“And?”
She smiled.
“It was lovely, Natalie. Really lovely, actually.”
I could see she meant it.
“He’s quite a bit younger than me, mind you.”
“How much younger?”
“Around fifteen years,” she admitted sheepishly.
“Fifteen! You cougar, Liz!”
She burst out laughing.
“I know! But I’m not going to let that put me off.”
“Good for you!”
Her expression softened.
“Do you know what was really nice, though? Just having a proper conversation with someone again.”
I nodded, letting her continue.
“Things had got so stale with Craig towards the end. We hardly talked about anything unless it was something that needed doing. Half the time we were just sitting in the same room, barely speaking.”
“That must have been lonely.”
“It was, actually. I don’t think I realised quite how much until afterwards.”
She paused.
“Then I went out with Esteban, and we just talked for hours. About absolutely everything. He was genuinely interested in what I had to say, and I found myself laughing and telling him things I hadn’t thought about in years.”
She smiled again.
“I came home feeling like a teenager. It’s exciting, having someone new to get to know. We’ve been messaging quite a bit since.”
“Well, I’m really pleased for you, Liz.”
“Thanks. It’s early days, and I’m not getting carried away. But it’s lovely having something to look forward to again.”
I gave her a hug.
“You deserve that.”
She smiled and picked up her case.
“Right, enough about my love life. Shall we get you another shade lighter?”
“Absolutely.”
—-
The first appointment had left my hair a mixture of strawberry-gold and honey tones, and I’d become accustomed to the change over the previous four weeks.
“Everything’s held up beautifully,” Liz said, lifting a section from my crown. “Still plenty of elasticity, no worrying dryness.”
“So we’re safe to go lighter?”
“Definitely. I’m aiming for champagne blonde today, with a little pale-gold warmth. That should take care of most of the remaining copper.”
“Sounds lovely.”
“And next time?”
She smiled knowingly.
“Next time we can discuss going paler, assuming everything’s still in good condition.”
“Almost there, then.”
“Almost.”
She fastened the charcoal cape around my neck and began dividing my hair into sections.
⸻
This appointment was much more straightforward than the first. Liz worked through the remaining warmth while we talked and drank tea, checking the colour as it developed.
By lunchtime, most of the strawberry tone had disappeared. The finished result was a soft champagne shade with hints of pale gold.
“That’s much more like it.”
“We’re getting there,” Liz said. “And I’m not taking you platinum today just because you’re impatient.”
“I wasn’t going to ask.”
“You were thinking about it.”
“I might have been.”
She smiled, then examined the shape.
“I’m tightening this up as well.”
“Go on, then.”
Liz trimmed the crown and fringe before picking up her clippers.
The familiar buzzing started beside my ear as she removed the month’s growth from the sides and nape. I particularly enjoyed feeling the clippers working around my ears again.
When she’d finished, I checked the result on my phone.
“Better.”
“Much,” Liz agreed. “Next time you’ll have it exactly how you want it.”
I turned my head, studying the closely cropped area above my ear.
It looked lovely, but I found myself imagining how it would look if Liz took the clippers higher, removing even more of the short growth beneath my curls.
I ran my fingertips upwards, picturing the difference.
For a moment, I was tempted to ask her to switch the clippers on again and take the sides much closer.
I glanced at them lying on the worktop.
Perhaps I should have said something.
I looked at the sides again. They were short.
I already knew they weren’t short enough.
——
Nick noticed the colour almost as soon as he saw me later that afternoon.
“This is looking much more blonde now.”
“It’s getting there.”
Nick gave me the look he always gave me when he knew I was deliberately not telling him something.
I kissed him and went to make coffee.
——
On Monday morning, Zoe came into my office just after nine.
I looked up from my laptop.
The long black hair I’d seen on Thursday was gone.
In its place was a close, dark crop that followed the shape of her head, with soft texture through the top and neatly clipped sides and nape. Her ears were completely exposed, and without the familiar curtain of hair around her face, her glasses seemed larger and her eyes stood out immediately.
“Morning, Natalie.”
“Zoe! Wow. Look at you!”
She laughed.
“I know!”
I stood and came around the desk.
“You certainly kept your promise about this haircut.”
“Didn’t I just?”
And it wasn’t only her hair.
Instead of one of her usual blouses, she was wearing a dark patterned outfit with a beautifully embroidered neckline and a soft stone-coloured drape over one shoulder. It was perfectly suitable for the office, just not something I’d seen her wear there before.
“This is a lovely outfit.”
“My mum helped me choose it. I’ve had it for ages, just never worn it here before.”
Then, remembering why she’d come in, she put a folder onto my desk.
“Updated figures.”
I looked at her.
“You are not getting away that easily. Please sit down.”
Zoe laughed and sat opposite me.
“So, how did the donation appointment go?”
“Really well, actually. Kim prepared my hair, tying it in multiple ponytails, and cut off all that length. That was probably the strangest part, seeing it lying on the trolley instead of hanging down my back.”
“How did you feel?”
“Nervous at first. But once it was off, I stopped worrying. I was ready to see what she could do with the rest.”
“And how did you end up with this?”
“We talked through a few ideas. Kim showed me what she thought would work, and I decided to go for it. She took it down gradually, checking I was happy, and we ended up going much shorter than I’d imagined.”
She ran her fingers over the crop.
“I couldn’t stop looking in the mirror afterwards. And I can’t stop playing with it!”
“It must make your mornings easier.”
“You have no idea. Actually, you probably do.”
We both laughed.
“And what did Rafi think?”
“He loves it. He knew I was considering something drastic, but neither of us knew exactly how it would turn out. He was just as excited as I was when I got home.”
“And your mum?”
Zoe’s expression softened.
“She cried.”
“Because you’d cut all your hair off?”
“No, not really.”
She smiled.
“She came round yesterday. I was wearing something she’d bought me, and when I opened the door she just stood there looking at me.”
“What did she say?”
“That I reminded her of one of her sisters when they were young.”
“Oh, Zoe.”
“She started laughing, then crying. I didn’t quite know what to do with her.”
I laughed softly.
“She kept touching my hair and telling me stories about her sister. I think it brought back a lot of memories.”
“That must have been quite a moment.”
“It was.”
Zoe glanced down at what she was wearing.
“Then we ended up going through my wardrobe together. Mum was determined to find something for me to wear today.”
“Was this her first choice?”
“Second. The first one was a bit much for a Monday morning.”
We both laughed.
“She said I should stop keeping everything nice hidden away, and I think she’s right.”
“Sounds as though she’s enjoying herself.”
“She really is. And so am I. It’s been such a lovely weekend.”
“Were you nervous about coming into work this morning?”
“A little. Mostly about everyone making a fuss. A few people have been surprised, but it’s been fine.”
She smiled.
“It’s funny. I spent ages worrying about how I’d look coming into work, then I got here and started answering emails like any other Monday.”
“Work does have a way of bringing you back to earth.”
“Doesn’t it just?”
She paused.
“But I’m glad I’ve done it. All of it. I don’t feel as though I’m trying to become somebody different. I feel more like myself.”
I smiled. There was something particularly lovely about the way she said it.
Then she pointed to the folder between us.
“Anyway, the revised figures are in there. I fixed Friday’s notes as well.”
“Thank you. I’ll take a look.”
She stood and picked up her phone.
“And Natalie?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks again for sponsoring me. It really meant a lot.”
“I’m glad I could help.”
She smiled and headed for the door.
⸻
When Zoe left my office, I found myself smiling.
I’d expected to hear about a successful donation and an exciting haircut. Instead, she’d shared something much more personal.
I thought about her mother’s reaction and the clothes she’d finally decided to wear to work.
Then I picked up the folder she’d left on my desk and returned to my reports.
