A Beautiful Forever(6)

I don’t start work until Monday, so I have a couple of days to hang out and sight see. I’m planning on taking the tube in, so I can do one of those London open top bus tours. That way, I'll be able to shamelessly take tourist photos to send home for my mum, who is already begging me to post pictures on Facebook for her.

Naomi decides to invite herself along, saying that she has only been here a month herself and hasn’t really done the tourist thing yet.

“Listen Naomi, I was kind of hoping I could just do this one alone,” I tell her, trying not to sound completely rude.

“Oh, well… that’s ok, I’ll go another time,” she says, looking completely disappointed.

“Oh come on Elliot, be a good sport – what’s the harm in taking her with you?” Shane puts in.

“Fine,” I sigh, “Just be ready to leave in ten minutes.”



We head off early and get to Waterloo station before most of the shop fronts have opened. It kind of reminds me of the train stations in the City Circle back home because it’s almost a mini shopping centre.

As we follow the signs to the station entrance, I’m surprised when I see a girl, who looks just like Paige, standing in front of a hairdresser, I almost stop and go to her, but I realise that I must be mistaken – this girl’s hair is sleek and straight, not that mass of curls that Paige has.

Walking away, I'm filled with disappointment, it makes me realise how much I wish I could see her again.





Paige


I’m a little on the early side this morning for my trial shift at Stylz. The roller door isn’t even up yet. So, I stand around in front of it with my jacket folded over my arms. The shop front is inside on the main level of the station so at least I’m not standing outside in the cold, freezing my arse off.

I gently run my hands over my hair to make sure everything is in place. I used plenty of product and straightened it to a glossy shine. When I do my hair this way, I feel like I should be in a Pantene ad, flicking my hair around and talking about how fabulous their conditioner is.

It’s not long before a girl comes walking towards me, fiddling with a set of keys. Her smile appears to be friendly and her curly black hair bounces as she walks. As she gets closer she extends her hand. “Hello, you must be Paige. I’m Andrea; we spoke on the phone yesterday.”

Reaching out to take her hand, I smile brightly, it’s show time. “Hi Andrea, it’s lovely to meet you,” I say as I look her over, she has a small, slim build and smooth light brown skin with dark chocolate coloured eyes. On closer inspection, I notice her hair has red highlights scattered through it. She wears little more than lip gloss for makeup and is dressed in a pair of black pants and a fitted shirt with ‘stylz’ written in poison green letters across the bust.

Unlocking the roller door, she presses a button, and we stand back to watch it rise. She gestures me through the glass door, and I follow her in, looking around as I do.

The inside is like any other salon you’d visit, with chairs and magazines in front of a reception counter. It kind of reminds me of the Just Cuts I used to go to before I started my apprenticeship.

“You called at the perfect time,” she tells me as she bustles around preparing to open. “My other stylist up and quit on me two days ago, and I have been run off my feet. The other girl, Amanda, can’t do Wednesday through Friday, so I’ve had no one! We get a lot of walk ins in this location, so I have actually been turning people away,” she looks at me pointedly; her eyebrows raised, “which is not good for business.”

“I can imagine it wouldn’t be,” I respond astutely.

She walks over to me with a t-shirt in hand, “Here, put this on. We have a fairly busy morning ahead of us. I really hope you’re good because I booked knowing I’d have you here today.”

“It’s fine,” I say. “I mean, I’ll be fine. I’ve worked in busy salons before.”

“So you’re in the UK indefinitely did you say?”

“I did say that, I have dual citizenship, so there’s no visa to force me back.”

“What made you want to leave Australia; it sounds like the ideal?”

“Time for a change,” is all I say. She tilts her head in a ‘fair enough’ gesture and starts to direct me around the salon to help her get things ready. When we flip the sign to say we are open there’s already a customer waiting.





Elliot


God I wish we had open top buses in Australia; they really are a great way to travel around. We see pretty much every landmark you have ever seen on tv before, the palace, Big Ben, parliament, and a whole bunch of other amazing places. It’s astounding to see them all in real life, even though you recognise them all, they’re now a three-dimensional object in your mind instead of the filtered image you normally associate them with.

It’s lunch time by the time we’re finished, so Naomi and I go and find a café to have something to eat.

“I can’t believe I have waited so long to do that,” Naomi says, in between bites of her open sandwich.

Nodding, as I chew my mouthful steak sandwich, I wait until I can swallow to speak. “It was number one on my list. I wanted to get a bunch of photos to send back home before I start working.”

“Well you certainly did that,” she responds.

“Yeah, I got a little snap happy I think,” I laugh as I start flicking through the photos and post them to my Facebook page, there is already a message on my wall from my mother reminding me to send her my UK phone number, I remind her that I installed Skype on her computer and phone, but private message my number to her anyway.

Naomi starts chattering away about all the culture and history in London, but I’m not really listening. I nod my head occasionally as some of her words reach my ears, although I’m mostly in my own head. Images of both the girl I saw at the station and Paige flit through my mind and the more I think about it, the more I think that girl was Paige.

I suddenly feel a great need to return and push back from the table. Naomi stops speaking mid-sentence and looks at me in wide-eyed surprise.

“I’m ready to go back, I’ll see you there?” It sounds like a question but I'm actually telling her.

“Oh,” she says looking around at her half-finished food, “um, I’d like to go back with you, but I’m not really finished yet… actually, don’t worry. I'll come now.” She gathers her things off the table, and I pick up her bag, handing it to her.

I make polite conversation with her all the way back to Waterloo station, avoiding any personal questions. I’m not being mean to her, but I don’t want to be overly nice and mistakenly give her the impression that I’m interested.

Nerves build up inside my chest as we walk towards the hair salon. Without warning Naomi, I stop walking and look in, hoping the girl I saw is still there. When my eyes find her, I watch her movement as she talks to a customer while taking their money at the counter. I’m now positive it’s Paige. She’s smiling and animated and well, beautiful. An odd feeling overcomes me as I watch her, it’s like I’m being enveloped in some sort of mist, and she’s the only person I can see around me.

“Do you know her?” Naomi asks from beside me. Turning towards her voice, I need to blink a couple of times before she comes into my focus.

“What?” I ask in return.

“That girl in there, do you know her?”

“I think I do,” I say as I start moving toward the entrance of the salon.





Paige


“Just make sure you keep up your weekly treatments. You've over bleached your…” I stop talking as the bell above the door jingles and a person I never expected to see again walks through. Betraying my mind, my stomach flits about happily as I look back to the customer and try to finish. “Sorry, you’ve over bleached your hair. We will have to cut it really short if you don’t take good care of it.”

“Well I don’t want that!” she says as I hand her the bag full of products she’s just purchased.

“That will all help it stay in good condition until your next appointment,” I say before bidding her farewell.

As I watch her walk out the door, I have to force myself to look over at Elliot, I don’t know why, but it’s really freaking me out that he’s standing in front of me, smiling like we’re long lost friends.

“Long time no see,” he says to me.

“If you call yesterday morning a long time ago,” I deadpan. “Are you here for a haircut or are you just passing through?”

He looks around and sees the other customers sitting on the chairs waiting, “Um, yeah; I want a haircut. Can you fit me in?”

“Ah,” I cut my eyes to the clock upon the wall while I think, “it could take a good hour - I have two clients ahead of you.”