Chapter 5
The rest of the morning went as planned. Meredith was back on air at seven thirty. The broadcast went smoothly with no further incidents. The eight, eight-thirty and nine o’clock slots likewise presented no problems, but Meredith was glad to be done with that side of things. For the next couple of hours, she immersed herself in charts and maps. It was her favourite part of the job. The clock eventually rolled around to twelve thirty. Gathering up her things, she made her usual checks to ensure she hadn’t left anything behind, like her mobile phone or car keys. It’s been a long, stressful day so far, she thought as she headed for the main door. A little pampering might be just what I need.
Meredith was relieved when she exited the building into the fresh air but the rain was still pouring down. She thought once more about taking the car but the hassle of finding a parking space dissuaded her. She figured that her hair being soaked wasn’t so bad since she was going to the hairdressers anyway and she could buy an umbrella in town for the walk back to the car park.
She made it to the salon at exactly twelve forty-five. Ten minutes later she was seated in front of the mirrors, hair soaking wet and waiting for Mairi to make an appearance. A couple of minutes later Mairi breezed through from the back shop looking like a million dollars as usual. Meredith wondered how Mairi managed to maintain her look throughout the day. She always looked as fresh at the end of the day as she did at the beginning.
“Hi Meredith, so what’s the emergency? You were only here a couple of weeks ago,” Mairi said.
“I just fancy a change.” Meredith looked at Mairi in the mirror.
“Don’t tell me you want to cut it short!” Mairi looked horrified.
“No, no, nothing so drastic. I thought maybe some layers to make it look a bit thinner. What do you think?”
“Layers will probably make your hair look thicker, Meredith. I know it sounds odd but people with thin hair get layers - not people with hair like yours. How about we give you some intense conditioning treatment and maybe try a side parting instead of the middle?”
“No, I definitely want layers,” Meredith said assertively. After thinking about it all morning, she’d decided to take control of her own look and stop letting everyone tell her what to do.
“Really Meredith, it won’t work out.” Mairi stared at her in the mirror, willing her to change her mind.
“That’s what I want.” Meredith reiterated determinedly.
“Okay, it’s your hair,” Mairi sighed as she picked up the comb to make a start.
An hour later Meredith surveyed herself in the salon mirror. She felt like she’d spent the whole day looking at herself in mirrors. At least this time I’m reasonably pleased with what I see, she thought. Her hair definitely looked a thinner. She wondered why Mairi had told her it would look the opposite.
“It does look thinner, Mairi?” Meredith said, a question in her tone as she turned her head from side to side to get a better look.
“That’s because I’ve flattened it down and teased it into submission. It will be okay if you have an hour or so to spend on it every morning,” Mairi said as she shrugged her shoulders. “But with your job and a baby to look after I don’t know where you’ll find the time.”
“It will be fine. Thanks Mairi. I really like it. How much do I owe you?”
After paying her bill and leaving a tip for the young woman who’d washed her hair, Meredith stepped out of the salon and was hit on the right side of her face with a gale force wind and torrential rain. She’d warned the nation about the rain and high winds but had forgotten all about it, having been so busy thinking about all the other problems she had at the moment. Not exactly the best day to get a fancy new hair-do, she muttered under her breath. Turning left toward the shops she wanted to visit, she felt the wind lift her hair skyward. A young boy walking past in the opposite direction, holding on to his younger sibling’s pushchair, stared at Meredith as she passed. The child in the pushchair also stared, then their mother joined in. People could be so rude Meredith thought. Just because she was on the telly everyone thought they could just stare at her, unabashed. Unknown to Meredith, her hair was spiralling upward with the wind, making her look like Medusa with long black snakes climbing out of her head. The baby in the pushchair started to cry. Meredith tutted to herself at the family’s rudeness and hurried on by, ducking into the first ladies dress shop she came to for some shelter from the wind.
Once inside Meredith took a deep breath and patted at her hair, hoping her new look hadn’t been ruined by the wind and rain. She began to browse the rails of clothes the shop had on offer. The variety was good but she decided that most of them just wouldn’t suit her figure. Choosing a few items; a skirt, a couple of tops, a blouse and a couple of shift dresses in different colours, she headed to the changing rooms. At least this shop has individual cubicles, she noted as she walked through the entryway to the well-lit changing area. She wasn’t so keen on those communal ones at the best of times and particularly not the way she was feeling today.
Ensconcing herself in a cubicle, she pulled the badly fitting curtain across, turned to look in the mirror and inhaled sharply at the sight before her. Her hair was triangular shaped. The shorter layers stuck out all around her head. The longer lengths were straggly and curly, sticking out below the rest as though they were badly done extensions. She rummaged in her bag for a hairbrush. Pulling it out she began to aggressively brush her hair in short, sharp strokes, making small noises of protest as the brush tugged on the tangles the wind had caused, but all she succeeded in doing was frizzing the ends and emphasising the Chinese ‘coolie hat’ effect.
After ten minutes of desperate effort to tame the frizzy mess, Meredith gave up. She’d just have to find a wash room, dampen it down a bit and hope for the best until she got home. Checking the time for what seemed like the millionth time that day, she realised the time spent trying to sort out her hair meant she only had about forty-five minutes left to choose some new clothes if she wanted to make it home in time to let Chloe away.
All the items she’d chosen were a size larger than she normally wore. It quickly became clear that they were of little use. The skirt was falling down, the shoulder seams on the tops were half way down her arms and one of the shift dresses made her look as though she was still pregnant. The plain navy shift dress looked better but was still too large. Taking her heels from her bag, she slipped them on, shifting her body from side to side as she twisted to look at herself from behind before finally deciding to purchase the dress, thinking that it might look better when she was being filmed since, apparently, being filmed made people look about fourteen pounds heavier than they actually were.
Decision made, Meredith headed for the check-out, picking up an umbrella from a stand on the way. She paid using her credit card and asked the assistant if they had a wash room. The assistant looked apologetic when she said they didn’t. Meredith’s heart sank at the thought of going outside looking like a dark haired Myrtle Snow from ‘The Coven’.
Putting her card back in her purse, she lifted the bag containing her new dress and turned toward the door. Through the window she could see the rain and wind had not subsided any. If anything the wind was worse, stopping people from being able to walk completely upright. She wasn’t looking forward to walking back to the Channel 7 car park. Wondering fleetingly if she might have time to pop in to the little coffee shop a few doors down to use their washroom, she checked her watch. Seeing that she had less than half an hour left to get home, she decided there was nothing else for it but to brave the elements.
Putting the umbrella up in the doorway, she stepped outside. The umbrella immediately turned outside in. She turned it to face the wind and it popped back into shape. Holding it to the right side of her face, she began to walk, fighting to hold the umbrella in place.