Free Christmas at Tiffany's by Karen Swan Page B

you.’ He indicated her hair, which was now butter-blonde and spaghetti-straight. ‘What did they do? Iron it?’
    ‘Perm!’
    ‘Seriously?’
    Cassie chuckled, leaning in to him to talk over the music as he sat down beside her. ‘Not like the one Suzy had when she was thirteen! It’s a Brazilian one. This type takes the curls out rather than putting them in. It means I won’t have to blow-dry my hair for the next three months – which is just as well. I didn’t like to tell them I’ve only ever used a roller-brush to pill Gil’s sweaters . . .’ She stumbled at the mention of Gil’s name and quickly tried to hide it with a smile.
    Henry was watching her intently, as if it was difficult for him to absorb the transformation from the previous morning. Aside from the perm, her hair had been cut to half its previous length into soft, framing layers around her face, which was now immaculately made-up, with vivid red lipstick on her generous mouth.
    ‘You just look so . . . different.’
    ‘Yeah, well, apparently I was a severe case.’
    ‘Of what?’
    ‘I’m not entirely sure,’ she said, grimacing. ‘But it was bad. From the looks on all their faces, it was baaaad.’
    ‘Why?’ he asked, baffled. ‘What was wrong with the old you?’
    Cassie tipped her head to the side and smiled gratefully, her eyes tearing up slightly at the unconsciously kind gesture.
    ‘Oh, Henry, you are so lovely,’ she said. ‘Bless you for thinking I was okay the way I was before.’
    ‘But you were,’ he protested.
    ‘Well, you’re the only one who thought so,’ she said, smiling.
    He smiled back, his expression soft and indulgent – almost nostalgic – as an amused smile flickered on his lips. His face bore the first traces of five o’clock shadow.
    ‘So what else have you had done?’ he asked, taking a swig of his drink.
    ‘Not much that I can show you,’ she said, causing him to raise a quizzical eyebrow. ‘But I’ll show you this,’ she continued, lifting the hem of her dress to reveal an inch of bald thigh. ‘What’s that about? What could possibly be considered offensive about thigh hair?’ she asked, palms up in wonder.
    ‘It’s not men who consider it offensive. It’s you girls all setting these daft rules.’
    ‘Then Kelly took me shopping to some sample sales. But none of it really fits,’ she said, tugging her dress down a bit. ‘I could do with a girdle!’
    He laughed. ‘I haven’t heard the word “girdle” for a while. I thought girls were always in those Spanx pants now?’
    ‘Is that what they’re called? I don’t remember what we bought. It was easier just to let her choose and get on with it. She knows what goes with what. She can give me lessons later.’
    Henry smiled. ‘Well, at least she’s done now. You can rest in peace, knowing you’ve let her play.’
    Cassie spluttered on her drink. ‘You must be kidding! This is just stage one. I’ve got to keep this up now. I’m already booked in to have my nails redone on Friday, I’ve got to have my roots redone every three weeks – it’s the only way you can be this blonde, you see,’ she said earnestly. ‘Plus I’m seeing a dermatologist the day after tomorrow for a “procedure”.’
    Henry frowned. ‘What procedure?’
    ‘Botox,’ Cassie mouthed.
    ‘Oh – now, that’s ridiculous!’ he exclaimed. ‘You can’t freeze your face. You’ll look like a robot!’
    ‘Better that, I’m told, than looking over thirty. Anyway, this chap Kelly’s taking me to apparently keeps you very “mobile” and natural-looking. Kelly’s been seeing him for years and I have to say I’d never noticed she’d had any work done. ’
    ‘Tch, they all say that, Cass.’ He shook his head crossly. ‘Honestly, that’s too much. Why exactly are you letting Kelly do this to you, anyway? I don’t understand why you’re being her guinea pig. It’s as if you’ve turned into that plastic-head thing you and Suzy always played