It was the day of the races. Cally had kept the marriage thing completely under her belt. Only Eloise had been privy to what was going on in her mind. And certainly Logan was none the wiser.
Unlike what Cally assumed most of the other guests who were going to be in the Royal Enclosure were doing, Cally had spent a very early morning short three-hour shift on the retail chatbot. Being Saturday, she’d expected it to be busy and she hadn’t been wrong. She’d dealt with all sorts of problems, including but not limited to a woman in Saffron Waldron who’d ordered a size eighteen but been delivered an eight, a customer in Falmouth complaining that a dress she’d bought had come undone at the seams when she’d worn it horse riding, and a complaint from someone in Lancashire whose parcel had been lost only to turn up at a post office in Northern Ireland. Cally had dealt with the problems by her pseudonym, Alex, as she always did quickly and efficiently and on the outside with the patience of a saint. Inside, she could have quite frankly throttled someone, that was the severity of her mood.
Also, unlike most other people attending the races, she was not going to the hairdresser or anything of its ilk. Because of thefact that she’d wanted to work the morning shift, her hair was being done by way of Alice from the deli popping up to put a low bun in and secure the hat to her head. After a very quick shower and not washing her hair as instructed by Alice, she was in her underwear, and super-fine stockings with her dressing gown over the top, and with more makeup on than she’d ever worn in her life. Her hair was moussed as instructed by Alice, and she had a mug of blackcurrant in her hand.
Her shoes were ready to go by the front entrance and as she opened the door to Alice, Alice smiled. ‘Ooh, look at you with your make-up on! You look so pretty, our Cally.’
Cally scrunched her face up. ‘Do I? I don’t really know what I’m doing. I just slapped it on here and there and hoped for the best.’
‘Well, whatever you did, it works. Really nice.’
‘Thanks.’
‘And you smell amazing! What is that?’
Cally chuckled. The Cloud perfume she’d worn for years always got comments. She shrugged it off. ‘Oh, just a combination of a few, you know. I just spray willy-nilly.’
Alice looked at Cally’s hair. ‘You put the mousse on?’
‘I did. Just as you instructed.’
‘Excellent.’
‘So, how come you know how to do updos and stuff?’
Alice shook her head. ‘My sister was a ballroom dancer. I had the unenviable job of doing her hair. I can literally do a fancy low bun with my eyes closed. It is nowhere near as complicated as it looks.’
‘The things you learn.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Alice said as she popped a gigantic can of hairspray, a big box of hairpins and hair elastics on the table. ‘Right. Sit down and I’ll get started.’
Cally looked at the equipment and swallowed. ‘Should we have done a prerun?’
‘Nah. That picture you showed me is so easy and the hat means it doesn’t even have to be perfect on top. When I say perfect, my sister wasn’t allowed to have one hair out of place, not a single one. We learnt the hard way. Gosh, the things I could tell you about the ballroom dancing world in those days. I think they’d call it abuse now.’
‘Right. So this is easy for you?’
‘Yes, walk in the park. We basically do three ponytails, one on either side, and one at the back, which turns into a huge low bun.’ Alice held up a very fine hair net. ‘This goes over the top, then the two ponytails loop over from each side in a load of swirls, making the bun look very fancy and very elegant.’
Cally wasn’t sure, but Alice appeared to know what she was doing. ‘I’ll leave myself in your capable hands. You know me. My hair is usually shoved up in clips.’
Cally settled into the chair and tried to relax as Alice began to section her hair and spray for England. The unfamiliar weight of makeup on her face made her hyper-aware of every expression, and she struggled not to frown as doubts began to creep in.
‘You're going to love this. It'll look so elegant, perfect for a day at the races.’
Cally managed a smile. ‘I hope so. I feel a bit like I'm playing dress-up, to be honest. I’m not really sure if this is my scene.’
As Alice began to gather Cally’s hair into the first ponytail, Cally's mind started to race. 'I hope this is going to look okay. My hair is weird at the best of times. It has a mind of its own.’
‘Nope. Trust me. I know what I’m doing.’
‘At least one of us does.’
‘I’ve never been to the races. I've only ever seen it on telly. Is it as posh as they make it out to be?’
Cally chuckled nervously. ‘I honestly have no idea. This is my first time. I'm half expecting to be turned away at the gate for not being fancy enough.’
Alice tutted, securing the first ponytail with an elastic. ‘Nonsense. You're going to fit right in. Especially with this hairstyle. Now, hold still while I do the other side.’
