Promoted: Chapter 2

Oh God! What have I done?

Annabel forced herself to flip the mirror closed and return it to her handbag. There was nothing she could do to disguise her haircut. Betty had been true to her word, and her hair was sensible, tidy and entirely fuss-free. But it was also… plain, boring… frumpy?  The words floated through her head, sapping her already low self esteem.

Callum had been really positive about it when she’d got home, telling her that it really suited her, and that she’d done the right thing, by trying to make her life easier. Monday morning in the office though, was a different proposition.

She had done what she could this morning to try to minimise the impact, opting for her shortest, tightest skirt and the four-inch heels which normally made her feel sexy and confident. Today, though, she felt more like she was playing dress-up.

She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and walked into the office.

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“Hi Annie. Good day?” Callum asked distractedly. His shorter commute meant that he was home before her, as usual, but that didn’t mean he stopped working, and his head was buried in his laptop, also as usual.

“Not really.” She sniffed.

He looked up, alarmed. “What’s happened?”

“Oh, just people. People being, well…” She sniffed again. “Oh, I’m probably just over-reacting. Being silly. Don’t worry about it.” She looked away.

“No, Annie, look.” He closed the lid of his laptop. “Something’s upset you. What is it? Maybe I can’t help, but I can at least listen to you.”

She looked back at him, screwed up her face. “It’s this stupid haircut, of course.” She glared at him. “I look middle aged and frumpy, and boy, did everyone let me know it.”

“What! People actually said that?”

“Oh, no, they wouldn’t make it that obvious. But the looks, and the comments. It was all pretty clear.”

“So what kind of things did they say?”

“Oh, Jackie told me it’s just like her Mum’s haircut, and Olivia said it must be such a relief not to have to bother trying to look good any more.”

“What! That’s really rude!”

“Yeah, well, I guess I always knew they could be a bit bitchy, but…”

“Did anyone senior hear them? Did they say anything?”

“Oh, no chance of that.” She tried to keep the bitterness and anger out of her voice. “One of the male execs said what a shame it was that I’d ‘cut all of my pretty hair off’, but that he did quite like my skirt. And then gave me this really creepy smile.”

She saw the anger building in Callum’s expression, and decided not to tell him that as she’d turned and walked away from this exchange, she’d received a firm slap on her backside, followed by guffaws from several male voices.

“That’s bordering on harassment.” Callum was outraged. “Can’t you make a complaint?”

“Yeah, sure.” She replied, reasonably. “If I want to make an enemy out of everyone there, not get my contract renewed, and then find that everyone who might employ me has been warned that I’m a ‘troublemaker’.”

“But…”

“Look, it’s not worth it, OK?”

“Yeah, OK, OK. But seriously, you can’t let everyone treat you like that.”

She shrugged, “What choice do I have?”

“Well…. I guess that everyone will get used to your hair, especially if you just ignore them, and I know I’ve told you already, but I really like your hair like that. But the, uh, other stuff.” He paused. “I really don’t want to make this sound like it’s your fault, because it isn’t, but, uh, maybe a really short skirt isn’t the best idea? It will only encourage the neanderthals.” He shrugged, apologetically.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” She admitted, slightly ashamed. “I only really wore it to kind of compensate for the hair. But I knew it didn’t feel right, even before I got to work.”

“Well, there you go. Dress how you feel comfortable, wear your hair how you want to. It’s up to you, no-one else.”

She looked at him, smiling for the first time since she’d got home. “Thanks Cal. I know you’re always on my side. So, er, you think I should go the other way? Cover myself up more?”

“Like I say, whatever makes you feel comfortable. But yeah, if that means long skirts, high necklines, flats instead of heels, then why not? It’s not like it stops you doing your job.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just…”

Callum waited, one eyebrow raised.

“…well, I just feel like I wouldn’t be, you know, fitting in with the other girls.”

“Yeah, I do understand that. But, you know, you don’t have to all look the same. If you like to dress more, well, conservatively, because that’s how you feel comfortable, then you should. You’re doing a job. It shouldn’t be a competition about how you look.” He looked at her, hoping he’d judged the tone correctly.

Annabel looked at him thoughtfully. “Yes, I think you’re right.” She walked upstairs, a determined expression on her face.

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“What do you think?”

Callum looked up from his laptop and his eyes widened. “Woah! You look amazing, Annie.”

“Really? I mean, it’s not a bit too…” She glanced down at herself, the plain white blouse, buttoned to the neck and wrist, the pleated floral skirt that flared out over her hips and fell well below her knees. The opaque tights and navy blue court shoes with a one-inch heel. The skirt had been a present from her mother, and she had dutifully worn it, along with the blouse, when she had taken her out for a birthday lunch a few months ago. She would never have contemplated wearing an outfit like this for work, though.

“No, not at all. You look great. Smart, professional, composed.”

“Plain? Frumpy? Old-fashioned?” She threw back at him.

He shrugged. “I expect that’s what Jackie and Olivia might say. But do you really care what they think? I think you look great, but more importantly, what do you think? How do you feel, dressed like that?”

She walked across the room, examined herself in the long mirror and nodded.

“I feel good. Like… I’m not putting on an act.” She replied, slowly. “This is just me. The miniskirts, the heels… even the hair. That was all for other people. Because I thought that’s how I was supposed to look.”

She looked at the broad smile on Callum’s face. “Do you really think I look good like this?”

“You look wonderful Annie. Really. Trust me.”

She smiled back, shyly. “Thanks, Cal.”

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Annie sat at the dressing table, looking thoughtfully in the mirror.  She was ready for bed, pyjamas on and makeup off. She’d just run a comb through her hair, still incredulous that this now took her two minutes rather than twenty, with no knots or tangles.

“Penny for them.” Callum appeared behind her, and rested his strong hands on her shoulders. Annabel frowned.

“Be straight with me, Cal. You really think I should go to work in that?” She nodded at the skirt and blouse, neatly hung up ready for the morning.

“Honestly?” He locked eyes with her in the mirror. “Yes I do, Annie. You said yourself that you felt good in them. And, well, I don’t quite know how to put this, but uh,….” He paused, struggling for words. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he continued.

“I’ve always liked seeing you dressed a bit more, well, conservatively, I suppose. Longer skirts, modest necklines, hair out of your face.”

“Really?” Annabel was gobsmacked. “I thought men just wanted to see, well, as much as they could!”

“Not me.” He shrugged. “Do you remember when we first met?”

“Of course! It was in the Fizz Bar, on a Friday, after work.”

“Yes, and the first thing I thought was how much smarter you looked than all your colleagues. You were wearing that charcoal skirt suit, and had your hair in a bun.”

“Oh, god, yes!” Annabel grinned. “I hadn’t been at the job very long, and I’d been asked to look after some new clients. I really wanted to make a good impression, so I thought I’d better look as smart as possible.” She frowned. “I remember that I got a bit of stick about that from some of the girls. That’s probably why I started trying to compete with them all.” She looked a little sheepish.

Callum smiled back. “Yes, I realised that you wanted to fit in at work, but I really liked that when we went to visit your mum, say, or even just when I took you out for dinner, you’d make the effort to look presentable and, well, ladylike. And you always seemed more comfortable that way. I didn’t want to push you, but I always hoped that one day you’d be confident enough to ditch the miniskirts and stilettos and wild hair.”

Annabel glanced at her now thoroughly tamed hair in the mirror and raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps you know me better than I thought.” She laughed. “Ok. Jackie and Olivia can say what they like. From now on, I’m going to be smart and modest for work. And happy with it.”

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“Uh, I thought that having it short was supposed to make it easier?” Callum asked, carefully, as he watched Annabel fiddle with her hair.

“Yeah, that was the idea.” She laughed. “It has, really. I do still need to blow dry it, or my waves get out of control, but it doesn’t take me half as long as it used to. I’m just not quite sure what to do with it now it’s grown a bit. Especially the fringe,”

She pushed the offending hair to one side and shoved a hairgrip in, frowning in the mirror at the result.

“What do you think? I don’t know if it’s going to stay, and it looks a bit untidy already.”

“Hmmm… yeah, I see what you mean. Maybe you just need to have it cut again? How long has it been?”

“Uh, six weeks? Something like that. I used to be able to go much longer between appointments when it was down here.” She held her hand halfway down her back, where her mane had ended just a few weeks previously.

“Yeah, well, I guess it needs cutting more often if it’s short.” Callum shrugged. “Maybe you could go a bit shorter this time? See if it lasts longer?”

“Really? Shorter than it was last time?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know, do I? Just tell the hairdresser what you want from it. She’s the expert, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Annabel pulled the grip out and ran her hands back through her hair, watching in the mirror as it all fell neatly back into place. The fringe was still hanging past her eyebrows though, it would be in her eyes before long.

Callum was watching too, his eye caught by her short, clean fingernails as she fussed with her hair.  “I hadn’t said anything before, but I’m glad you cut your nails, Annie. It makes you look more…” He paused. “I don’t know? Modest? Respectable?”

She smiled, ruefully. “Yeah, that’s pretty much what Mum said. She asked me to cut them when I was helping out at Sunday School the other week. Said that they weren’t really suitable for doing collage with the little ones. She was right, of course. Not to mention that they looked a bit out of place. Long painted nails are all very well with long hair and short skirts, but that’s really not me any more.” She glanced down at her now normal work outfit of a calf length pleated skirt and modestly buttoned blouse, and smiled.

“And they’re much more practical for housework, too. Speaking of which…” She looked at him hopefully. “I don’t want to keep nagging, but is there any chance of your workload coming down soon? It would be nice to get back to some kind of normality?”

“I’m sorry, Annie, I know I haven’t been around much. And I really do want to spend more time with you! But… no, it’s still really full-on.” He paused. “Something did occur to me the other day, though?”

She raised an eyebrow in enquiry. “Go on.”

“Well.. I know you don’t want anyone else coming in to do housework, so I wondered if you’d think about maybe going part time at work?” He saw her raised eyebrow, and rushed on, not giving her a chance to answer.

“I mean, it’s not like we need the money now, and it just seems like it would make your life easier, if you had a couple of days at home to do all the household stuff. And you could always go back full time again, when things get back to normal, or even just if you want to…” He tailed off, expectantly.

Annabel looked at him thoughtfully. “That’s, er, not something I’d thought about.” She replied, truthfully.

“Oh, well, it was er, just something I thought we could consider, maybe…”

“But now you mention it… It actually makes a lot of sense. I mean, it would give me a lot more time for housework, and, honestly, I’m not getting the same kick out of work that I used to.

“So, yeah.” She continued, decisively. “I’ll speak to HR when I get in. See what they say. And I’ll get myself back down to Betty’s, after work, see if she can tidy this mop up, and get it out of my eyes.”

She dragged her fringe away from her face with a comb and pushed the hairgrip firmly back in. A long blast of hairspray followed.  At least it wasn’t annoying her any more.

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She pushed open the door to Tidy Tresses, slightly less nervously than last time. She’d slipped out of work a little early, wanting to catch Betty before she closed.

“Oh, hello, dear. I wasn’t sure if I’d be seeing you back again. Pop yourself in the chair, I’ll just be a minute.”

Annabel did as she was told. She pulled out the hairgrip that was holding her fringe back, and  fiddled nervously with her hair, teasing the fringe down and pushing the sides back behind her ears.

Betty reappeared holding a faded pink nylon cape.

“So how have you been getting on with the new cut? Was it received well at work?”

“Oh, well, er. Not really.” She blushed a little and hurried on. “You see, all the girls at work are always really glam like, well, like I used to be. Short skirts, high heels, long hair. But it was just driving me mad, washing, drying, straightening, and I didn’t have time for it. So the cut was very much for me, not for work. In fact, I don’t really feel like I fit in there any more.” She frowned in the mirror.

“Oh, what a shame! I think you look very smart, perfect for the office.”

“Mmmm, that’s pretty much what my husband said, too.”

“Well he’s a very sensible man, then! I take it he approved of the new look?”

“Oh yes, he’s very happy.” Annabel smiled. “He’s been really supportive. It was actually when he started having to do so many hours at work, that I took on all the household stuff, so I didn’t have time to fuss with my hair.”

“Oh, gosh yes. With a full time job and a house to run you certainly need a nice, easy hairdo.”

“Mmmm, well, not full time any more.” Annabel smiled. “I went to see HR today, and I’m going down to three days a week, which should give me a bit more time to get the housework done.”

“Not going back to long hair, though, I hope?” Betty asked, with mock severity.

“Certainly not! I don’t need a great mop of hair getting in the way around the house either. No, I’ve realised that I’m a short haired girl at heart. Neat and tidy and no fuss, that’s me.”

“Well good for you, my dear. So, are we taking you back to the same style, or…?”

“Oh, um, well. I liked it when it was first cut, after I’d got used to it, that is, but, well, it seemed to grow out quite quickly, and got a bit, well, harder to keep tidy.”

“That’s the thing with short hair, I’m afraid. You can’t just have your ends trimmed every few months. If you want neat and tidy, every four weeks would be best.” Betty gave her a tight smile.

“Oh, OK, well, I guess I’ll be seeing you a bit more often then.”

“But it sounds like you’d prefer it a bit shorter, easier to look after.” Betty seemed to be telling her, more than asking.

“Um, yes, I suppose. My husband said I should maybe have it shorter so it would last longer. I just want it to stay tidy, really.”

“Right, that’s what we’ll do then. I’ll get rid of all this bulk at the back,” she fluffed Annabel’s bob, “and take it up over your ears. It’ll dry in no time, and you won’t need to do any styling at all.”

“Oh! Er, that sounds a bit, um…”

“Don’t worry dear. If your husband likes you neat and tidy, then I’m sure that he’ll love you having your ears on show. It’s a perfect style for a busy young housewife.”

Betty wasn’t waiting for Annabel to agree. She had already snapped the cape snugly around her neck and was leaning her back towards the shampoo basin. As the warm water flowed around her head, Annabel mentally shrugged. She could hardly fit in any less at work, and as for what Callum might think, well, it was he who had suggested she went shorter.

Betty sat her up and towelled her hair briskly. Her comb slid through with minimal resistance, and without any further questioning, she started lifting and snipping. Annabel watched as sizeable locks fell onto the floor, and felt her head getting progressively lighter.

The back of Annabel’s head was soon cropped to Betty’s satisfaction and she turned her attention to the top. She combed the hair straight back, watching how it fell.

“It wants to part here.” She declared, combing it into a neat side parting. “It’s always best to work with the hair, especially if you want something really low fuss.”

She carried on combing and slicing, more hair raining down, mostly ending in Annabel’s lap now. Annabel tried to keep her emotions in check while Betty, as promised, removed all the hair from around her ears, leaving them fully uncovered. She didn’t think that her hair had ever been this short, and the glimpses in the mirror showed her exposed face looking very different with no hair around it.

Of course, she’d sometimes worn her hair up when it was long, but she would always leave a few strands down, to soften and frame her face. With her hair cropped short, her face, her ears, her forehead were all going to be on display like never before.

Betty put her scissors down and combed Annabel’s hair into the neat side parting she’d settled on earlier. A minute or so with the blow dryer and a brush followed and Annabel was left looking at a very short, very tidy cap of hair. She supposed that it could be described as a pixie cut, but really, it was just a short, uniform layered cut, cleanly parted down the left hand side, with a fringe, if you could call it that, barely an inch long.

Betty picked up the big gold can and gave Annabel a quick blast of hairspray, and slipped the cape off.

“There.” She announced with satisfaction. “One short, smart ladies’ haircut. No fuss, just the way you wanted.”

“Oh, er, yes. That does look very, um, neat.” Despite her earlier acceptance, Annabel wasn’t quite sure what to make of her new look.

“Now it’s still long enough to have it curled, if you want to dress it up. You can use a curling iron, or have a shampoo and set for a bit more of a formal look.”

“Mmmmm.” Annabel nodded as she studied herself in the mirror. The style that Betty had given her was still clearly a feminine cut, and it certainly met her requirements of ‘tidy’ and ‘easy’, but there was something not quite right, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She frowned at herself.

“You’ll probably find that you need a lot less of that slap.” Betty offered, gesturing at Annabel’s face. “And a good scrub with soap and water will be a lot quicker than putting all that on.”

“Oh, er, yes.” Annabel realised that this was what she hadn’t been able to put her finger on. Despite all of the other changes she’d made, her makeup routine had stayed much the same, and whilst the severely plain crop that Betty had given her perfectly complemented her modestly buttoned blouse, the full face of makeup in between now looked distinctly out of place.

“Go on.” Betty encouraged her, seeing her hesitation. “You can use the sink over there. See what you look like with a clean face.”

“Uh, I’m, um, not really… uh.” Annabel stumbled out.

“You’re worried what your husband will think?” “Uh, yes, maybe.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out. Go and scrub it all off and show him. Seems to me, if he’s happy for you to make your life a bit easier, he shouldn’t mind you going barefaced, at least some of the time.”

“Uh, yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Annabel moved over to the sink, ran some hot water in and lathered up her hands. She hesitated. Quite apart from the fact that she never left the house without doing her makeup, the old-fashioned medicated soap felt a world away from her usual skin cleanser. She knew that Betty was right, though. She would have to do something different with her makeup, and well, why not start with a clean slate?

She lowered her face towards the basin and started to scrub.

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“Annie! Wow! You look amazing!”

“Really, Cal?” She looked at him sceptically. “I mean, it’s so short!” She ran her hands through the cropped hair over her ears, still not quite believing what had happened.

“Yes, really. It’s great. You definitely look better with your hair out of your face. It really makes your eyes stand out.”

“But, I just feel so… exposed.”

“I guess it must be a bit of a shock, but, well, you look great. I’m sure in a few days you’ll wish that you’d done it ages ago.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, unconvinced. “I do look older, though, don’t I? and, well, frumpier.”

“You look beautiful, Annie. Short hair or long, makeup or not, you’re a beautiful woman, and I’m very lucky to have you.” He grinned at her. “But for the record, I love your hair like this, and I think you look great without makeup. It lets your natural beauty shine.”

“Hmph.” Annabel tried to look unconvinced, but she knew that Calum genuinely meant it, and deep down, she felt a little thrill at what he’d said. She might not be the most glamorous girl in the office any more, but as Callum kept telling her, she didn’t need to compete with them. As long as her husband thought she looked good, what else mattered?

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

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