‘You’re looking well on it, Jenny,’ she lied. She wanted a decent haircut after all and she’d her fingers crossed for a freebie. ‘Motherhood obviously agrees with you.’
‘Liar.’ She rustled up a wan smile. ‘And I can see why you were desperate for a trim. I’m a mess but if you watch Ophelia and Oscar for ten minutes, I could tidy myself up and then make you beautiful.’
‘Sounds like a good plan.’ Roisin remembered her friend saying she was heading out shopping. She could recall going to get the groceries being an outing when Noah was small, any chance to get out of the house was an outing. ‘I’ve nowhere I need to be, take your time. Now, where are they. They were babies last time I saw them.’
FAMOUS, FECKING LAST words! Roisin thought, lying on the living room floor as a scarf was wound around her leg. She already had a series of plasters decorating any exposed bits of her face and body. Ophelia was bandaging her leg for her. Her little face, almost hidden by the cloud of gorgeous, golden curls, was a picture of seriousness in her dress-up nurse’s uniform. Oscar, her double apart from the short haircut, did an even more impressive version than the one she’d heard yesterday of a siren. What was Jenny doing, having a nice soak in the bath and reading a good book? Had she sneaked out to do her shopping?
A good half hour after she’d disappeared faster than a piece of chocolate cake at a Slimmer’s World meeting, Jenny reappeared. It could have been a different woman. Roisin sat up and took stock of the transformation and the twins were rendered silent for all of ten seconds as they checked out this new version of their mammy. This was the Jenny she remembered. ‘You look gorgeous.’ She beamed.
‘I feel amazing. Thanks a million for watching them, Rosi. It was such a treat to put my face on without giving a blow by blow account of everything I was doing.’
‘It was no bother. We’ve had fun haven’t we, you two?’ Roisin said unpeeling the plaster from her eyebrow and hoping she didn’t take half of it with it.
The twins nodded cherubically as their mammy flicked the television on for them and some eejits, dancing about in colours so bright they’d make your eyes bleed, filled the screen. She told them to be good while she gave Roisin a haircut and dragging a dining room chair behind her, beckoned for Roisin to follow her into the kitchen. ‘I can’t do a dry cut so I’ll give you a shampoo and condition over the sink,’ she said depositing the chair in the middle of the kitchen. The smell of fish hung faintly in the air; last night’s dinner Roisin guessed as Jenny gestured at the sink. The bottles to the side were salon products, Roisin thought, recognising the labels. It would make a nice change from her supermarket duo. She picked up the folded towel, also on the worktop, and draped it around her shoulders before dutifully bending over and angling her head under the taps.
‘How’s the temperature?’ Jenny asked, running the water.
Near scalding water trickled over Roisin’s scalp and she yelped, ‘Ouch, too hot.’
‘What about now?’
‘Jaysus, too cold.’
‘Sorry, the tap’s very temperamental. How’s this?’
‘Just right.’
She sounded like Goldilocks, Roisin thought, wincing as shampoo was rubbed into her scalp. Jenny had lost her touch because it wasn’t a relaxing head massage she was after receiving and her back was killing her already from the stooping. There were a few moments of drama when shampoo got in her eye and she had to hold the towel to her eye to stem the stinging but aside from that she was smelling sweet and sitting in the chair ready to be pruned in no time.
A lot had happened since the last time she’d been in Dublin and she chattered about her life as a newly single woman, learning to stand on her own two feet and her hopes for eventually running yoga classes, as Jenny snipped away.
‘I’d love to do yoga but there’s never any time.’
‘I could teach you a few basic moves. I managed to get Mammy doing some with me this morning.’ She shuddered at the memory of her mammy in her yoga pants attempting the triangle pose. ‘You could do them when the kids are napping or watching television.’
‘I’d like that.’
‘It really helped keep me sane when Noah was small.’
‘And how is the young fella?’
‘He’s grand. He’s after bringing his pet gerbil with him from London which didn’t go down well with Mammy at first but she seems to be warming to the little chap. He is rather sweet.’
‘I’m done with pets for the foreseeable future. Although we might stretch to a goldfish or something, you know, just so as they’ve got something to cart along to pet day when they start in the infants. Now shall I add some soft layers?’
‘Soft layers it is.’
‘So,’ Jenny’s voice took on an almost sly quality, ‘is this desperate need for a haircut down to a certain fella?’
‘I’ve only been separated a few months.’
‘Don’t come all holier
