Leila agreed it sounded grand. Only Roisin was dubious but the Dutchman was somewhat intimidating so she wasn’t about to argue. She watched as he began sorting through his trayful of hairstyling accessories with a studious expression on his face. She tried to relax in the seat but her shoulders, everything come to that, were tense and she realised her hands were in tight fists. The last time she’d let anyone near her hair it had been a disaster. Her fringe had wound up closer to her hairline than her eyebrows. It was not a look she wore well, although mercifully Shay hadn’t seemed to notice. By the time it had finally grown back to a respectable length though she’d been sick to the back teeth of people talking to the expanse of forehead between her brows and fringe.
Think about Shay, she told herself and her fists unfurled; her shoulders too loosened at the memory of the night she’d spent with him. They’d met up once she’d gotten back from their successful outing to the Bridal Emporium. It had been so lovely to see him again and they’d gone for a quick bite to eat although neither of them could concentrate on the food placed in front of them as they stared into each other’s eyes. A game of footsie under the table had ensued which had caused their breathing to quicken and pupils to dilate so they’d decided to skip dessert and had hotfooted it straight back to Shay’s place for an entirely different and not so quick after dinner digestif.
Roisin’s mouth curved into a smile she couldn’t control as she recalled the way he’d propped himself up in bed on one elbow afterward, looking down at her with a softness in his eyes that made her feel like she was the most beautiful creature to ever walk the earth. It was one of those moments she wished she could bottle so she could uncork it and relive the memory on those lonely nights in London when Noah was at his father’s and she found herself home alone. It was hard being in separate countries, even if they were only a hop, skip and a jump from each other. On the bright side of things though she’d be back in Dublin for the wedding in a fortnight. It wasn’t too long to wait.
She realised Sten thought she was smiling at him and she noticed he’d sucked his stomach in because the slight paunch under his shirt had vanished. He was also pulling a moody pout in the mirror and looking at her in what he obviously thought was a flirtatious manner but which in Roisin’s opinion gave him an unhinged look. Jaysus wept, just her luck she thought as her phone rang. The timing was perfect and she was grateful for the intrusion. She shot the Dutchman an apologetic glance. ‘Sorry, Sten, I’ll have to get this it could be my son or my boyfriend.’ She wasn’t missing the opportunity to say hello to either, even if it did make Sten’s goatee quiver once more. He snorted huffily through his nostrils and began digging out bobby pins from his tray.
Roisin retrieved her phone from her bag and upon answering it was greeted by her son’s sing-song voice. He was all excited to talk to her even though she’d only been away for a night and he spent every second weekend with his dad, anyway. It was lovely, Roisin thought feeling all warm inside and refusing to meet Sten’s eyes in the mirror as he began tapping the comb he was holding in the palm of his hand as if to say, time is money. She listened to Noah fill her in on how much fun he was having. He’d been to see a film with his daddy and had been allowed an enormous bucket of popcorn. He didn’t stop to draw breath as he informed her Granny Quealey was cooking him chicken nuggets with no vegetables not even a carrot for his dinner. Roisin rolled her eyes, that woman and her double standards.
‘Where are you, Mummy?’
‘I’m at the hairdressers with Aunty Aisling, Aunty Moira, your nana and Aisling’s friend Leila. We’re having a practise session to see how we’re going to wear our hair on the day of the wedding.’
‘Mummy?’
‘Yes, Noah.’
‘Can you please tell Nana she needs to look like Nana for the wedding.’
The poor child was still traumatised by his nana’s post-Vietnam holiday braids, Roisin thought. ‘I will.’
‘Mummy, can you please do it now.’
‘Alright, I’ll hold the phone out so you can hear me tell her.’ Roisin turned to Mammy whose hair was being clipped into a round coil. ‘Noah’s on the telephone, Mammy, and he says you’re to look like you at Aisling’s wedding.’ She heard a tinny voice say, ‘Tell Nana I used my manners, I said please.’ ‘He said please, Mammy.’
‘Who else does he think I’m going to look like?’ Maureen held out her hand. ‘Here give that to me, I’ll talk to him.’
Roisin passed it over and Sten took the opportunity to tug and twist Roisin’s hair into the beginnings of a bun. He told her off for tilting her head, all business now he knew there was no chance of any post-hairdo shenanigans. She was straining to listen to what her mammy was saying to her son and managed to catch. ‘Alright, Noah, Nana promises there’ll be no teeny-tiny plaits and no Ronald McDonald fuzzy hair either. I can’t wait to see you. Mammy’s after telling me she’s got your suit all sorted. Sure, you’ll be the grandest pageboy who ever walked up the aisle, so you will. Oh, and before I go, be sure to tell Mr Nibbles, Nana loves him too. Yes, with all her heart. I’ll pass you back to your mammy now.’
Roisin took the phone back and said her goodbyes to her son. She put her mobile back in her bag and decided she’d best
