She sighed, her eyes dreamy. ‘I never, ever thought that could be possible. It sounds like heaven.’
‘You could have my place.’
Um, excuse me? What? Whose place? Did somebody just open their mouth and offer Polly their house?
Marilyn and Polly both gaped at me.
‘What?’ Polly’s eyes widened. I could see the tiniest flicker of hope spark amongst the blue-grey flecks.
‘I’m moving out in August. The landlady’s lovely; she’ll be pleased I’ve found someone to take over the lease. And she’s fine about decorating, as long as you aren’t too radical.’
I told her what I paid in rent.
‘I can manage that. Once my maternity leave is up, I’m working three days a week. With tax credits and everything, I think I can afford that. It’ll be perfect. Faith, I can’t believe this! You’re giving me your house?’
‘You might want to look at it first. It is tiny. And the bathroom is an homage to the eighties.’ I cleared my throat. ‘Youalso might want to think about moving further away, depending on what happens with Tony.’
‘Maybe once he’s out of prison. But right now, I want to be near my friends and my new family. My job is here. And I wouldn’t miss the next round of the competition for anything.’
We agreed she’d call in that afternoon to have a look round. I had something else I needed to do first.
After a nervous ten minutes waiting for the bus to Brooksby, I scurried the quarter of a mile to Rowan’s house.
She lived in one of the old coalminers’ homes. A generous size for the average family. For the four generations who currently lived there, including Rowan’s grandfather, her parents, three older sisters, Callie and two huge dogs, it felt distinctly overcrowded.
‘Come into the back.’ She led me through a front room, furnished with a sofa bed, a chipped white chest of drawers, and a giant television, into a decent-sized kitchen. ‘Right. We’ve got just under an hour before Mum brings Callie back from nursery, and Grandad’ll want his lunch. What are we doing?’
I took a deep breath and told Rowan what I wanted doing. She stuck one hand on her jutting hip and wagged her chin at me.
‘Are you nuts? No offence, but that idea is rank. You’d look so bad. They probably wouldn’t let me start my training if college got wind of it.’
‘Nobody will know it was you.’
She shook her head. ‘Nah. Can’t do it. Why on earth would you want to anyway? You’re getting married in a couple of months. You’d look like a troll on your wedding day.’
‘You’re probably right. But I’m looking for a complete change. What would you suggest?’
‘I’d suggest keeping your amazing hair and buying a new top.’
‘I need to change my hair. Please. I know you can think of something that will look bearable.’
Rowan studied me for a few moments, her gaze assessing more than simply my hairstyle.
‘Okay. We’d best get started.’
22
When I opened my front door to Polly that afternoon, she looked at me in confusion until I said hello.
‘Faith! I thought it must be your sister or something. You look like a different person.’
Excellent. Mission accomplished.
‘Oh, you know. I fancied a change. One of those flippant moments when you do something crazy. I figured it’s hair. It’ll grow back. Better than getting an impulse tattoo and being stuck with it.’
We smiled and rolled our eyes. Leona had returned from a girls’ weekend in Blackpool with a five-inch portrait of Benedict Cumberbatch on her upper chest. Her husband was not happy at confronting a scowling Sherlock every time he got near her.
‘Well. It looks great. Kind of surreal. But it’s nice. You seem… not older exactly, but more sophisticated. Perry will love it.’
