Short and Sweet (12 page)

Emily nodded. For the second time that day, she sat stiff and suspicious in a cubicle, this time surrounded by bottles and make-up tubes of all shapes and sizes.

Once Angel had left them, however, Mrs Wentworth unbent. She winked at Emily in the mirror. ‘I’m not going to murder you, you know.’

‘I’m just – I’m not used to make-up and – and all these things.’ In a burst of honesty Emily added, ‘I’ve never even been inside a beauty salon before.’

‘Really? Well, you don’t know what you’ve been missing. I like to let someone else spoil me from time to time. Let me just put the neck support in and then this band round your forehead, so that we don’t mess up your hair. There you are. Comfy?’ A flick of Mrs Wentworth’s fingertips sent the chair into a reclining position.

Emily clutched the armrests and reminded herself how well her hair had turned out.

‘Close your eyes. I’m going to give you a facial first. You aren’t using enough moisturizer, you know. Women of our age need to cherish their skin and protect it from the weather. It’s ruinous to let it get dry, absolutely ruinous. You wouldn’t believe the amount of money I spend on my moisturizers, but they’re worth every cent.’

A gentle monologue was accompanied by the slapping on of lotions and the massaging of Emily’s face. A faint perfume drifted into her nostrils. An astringent lotion made her skin tingle. When, after what seemed ages, the last one had been wiped off, her skin felt cool and fresh. She put up one hand to touch it.

‘Feels good, doesn’t it?’

‘It feels wonderful.’

‘I’ll teach you how to do it at home. I have it all written down.’

After the facial, Mrs Wentworth let Emily try dozens of creams and smears of make-up on the back of her hand, and they studied them together. Then she frowned at Emily’s expression. ‘It’s no use me giving you the works, love. You won’t use most of these, will you?’

Emily blushed. Mrs Wentworth had read her correctly.

‘How about we concentrate on the eyes, then? You’ve got nice eyes, you know, but you don’t show them off to best advantage. We’ll give you a facial moisturizer with a hint of colour in it, and a dash of lipstick. Not too dark. That wouldn’t suit you.’ She chuckled at the relief on Emily’s face. ‘You’re thinking of stage make-up, love. We want you able to face the world with confidence, not sing in the back line of the opera.’

When Mrs Wentworth had finished, Emily sat silent in front of the mirror. Her hair bounced nicely around her face. Her complexion had always been good, but somehow it seemed better now. And her eyes. They looked big – and had they always been so bright a blue? ‘It’s wonderful!’ she breathed. ‘Just – absolutely – wonderful!’

‘Yes, I have done rather a good job on you, if I say so myself. Your skin’s not bad, for a woman your age. Now, if I were you, Mrs Baker, I’d get my eyeliner tattooed in.’

Emily jerked upright in shock. ‘Tattooed!’

‘It’s only semi-permanent. Look at my eyes. Never think that line was tattooed on, would you?’

Emily stared at Mrs Wentworth’s eyes. ‘Tattooed?’ she repeated faintly. Whatever would people think of next?

‘Well, love, I don’t know how your eyesight’s going, but I can’t see to draw those fine lines on myself nowadays, not when I take my glasses off, I can’t. So I had them tattooed on instead. Marvellous, aren’t they? If I were you, I’d get yours done. Not thick lines, just delicate ones. I can tell you where to go for it.’

‘I’m not sure about that.’

‘I am. You can face anyone if your eyes look good, even if you’ve no other make-up on at all. Now, let me call Angel to get you a nice cup of tea and then we’ll turn you over to our Miss Dashley.’

She leaned forward to whisper confidentially, ‘Don’t be put off by her coolness. She wouldn’t get excited if a bomb went off under her, that one, but she knows more about clothes than anyone I’ve ever met before, far more than those women on the telly. I always take her out with me when I want something special.’

By six o’clock that evening, Miss Dashley had helped Emily to spend over two thousand dollars and Emily didn’t begrudge a cent of it. When she got home, she sat on the bed, surrounded by her new clothes – casual, everyday and smart, the basics for every occasion. She stared at herself in the mirror, a smile curving her lips. She’d never looked this good – well, not for a long time, anyway.

She’d been quite pretty as a girl, she remembered now, looking at a face that seemed to have grown younger. At least, Tom had once thought she was pretty; had fallen in love with her at first sight.

She sat there for ages and it was only the phone ringing that made her realize she hadn’t even put the new clothes away.

‘Mum?’

‘Oh, it’s you, Katie.’

‘Mum, are you busy tonight?’

‘No, dear.’

‘Can I come round and see you, then? I have something to tell you.’

‘Of course you can, dear. It’s good news, I hope.’

‘Er, yes – well, sort of.’

‘Let their father put those young terrors of yours to bed. You can have your tea with me.’

As she put the phone down, Emily smiled at the thought of how surprised Katie would be when she saw the makeover and the new clothes. Then she picked up the magazine she had found at Beauty International. They’d been very nice about letting her take it away with her. She opened it at the back, where there were adverts for all sorts of things.

WANTED: SUPERIOR HOUSEKEEPERS

FOR TOP CLIENTS

EXCELLENT SALARY FOR THE RIGHT PEOPLE

TRAVEL ROUND THE WORLD – LIVE IN LUXURY

MUST BE UTTERLY RELIABLE AND
SUPER COMPETENT

This advert had caught Emily’s eye immediately. Going through an agency sounded a better approach than answering advertisements in the paper and not being sure what you were getting yourself into. She had to confess that she liked the sound of this sort of job. She looked at herself in the mirror and beamed at what she saw. If she could look like this, she could . . . why, she could do anything.

She’d give the agency a ring tomorrow and find out how to set about becoming that sort of housekeeper. She was going to do it, oh, yes, she was – get away from everything, spread her wings, do something with her life.

Still clutching the magazine, she sat and dreamed for a while of faraway places and living a more interesting life, then thought about Katie and began to worry. What would her daughter think of all this? Katie relied on her to babysit, turned to her in emergencies. She’d think her mother had gone mad. How was Emily going to tell her that she hadn’t gone mad, but that, just for once, she needed to do something for herself?

When she was a girl she’d longed to travel. She’d never managed to get her husband out of Western Australia, even for a holiday, so she’d never left it herself. She’d read lots of travel books from the library. She’d gone to classes to learn to cook different types of food, pretending to herself that she was going to the various countries for holidays.

Now she would go forth and see some of the world, she really would.

And she’d get herself one of those fancy housekeeper jobs, too. Well, she’d have a good old try at it, anyway. If she failed at that, she’d do something else, but at least she’d have had a go.

Her final thought had been hovering for a few days and she’d kept pushing it away. Now, when it settled at the forefront of her mind, she let it. She was going to revert to her maiden name. Emily Baker.

She didn’t know what the children would say. But even they weren’t going to make her change her mind. The name change was symbolic, somehow, of the changes she was making to her life. It was the outward sign of a promise to herself.

It’d have hurt Tom dreadfully. But he wasn’t here any longer and the children had their own lives. They’d soon get over it.

I’m remaking Emily Baker, she told herself, and smiled.

She wasn’t even applying for a passport until she’d done that. How did you change your name officially?

Yet another thing to learn. Life was full of new things to try. She sighed happily and let herself dream some more.

Katie rang to say her husband was going to be late. She’d grab something to eat and wouldn’t arrive till nearly eight o’clock.

She bounced into the house, stopped dead at the sight of Emily, then shrieked, ‘Mum! What have you
done
to yourself?’

‘I’ve had a makeover at a beauty parlour in Perth. You . . . don’t think I’ve overdone things, do you?’

‘Oh, no. Mum, you look lovely! Just lovely! Dare I touch you?’

‘Come here and give me a hug this minute!’

But after Katie had studied the new hairdo, tried the expensive moisturizer and enthused over the clothes, she fell silent.

Emily watched. Her daughter had other things on her mind, easy to tell that. ‘Best come straight out with it. What’s the matter?’

Katie looked across at her. ‘It’s Don. The new job. Oh, Mum, we have to move to Sydney. I’ll be so far away from you. Over four hours by plane.’ She flung herself into Emily’s arms and burst into tears.

It took a while to calm Katie down again. ‘So what’s the problem about that?’ Emily asked, as if she didn’t know.

‘I don’t want to leave you. Especially now you’re on your own.’

‘You think I can’t look after myself, eh?’

‘It’s not that. You know it’s not that. It’s me as well as you. I’ve never lived anywhere but Perth and – oh, I’m going to miss you so.’

‘Is it a good job?’

‘Oh, yes. When Don finished the first training course, they said he had management potential. But he needs experience, which means working all over Australia, starting in Sydney. They rent houses for you and they pay the removal costs, so we’ll be all right there, but – we’ll have to keep moving for a while, every year or two at least.’

Katie’s mouth wobbled and Emily could see that tears were still close to the surface, so she spoke firmly. ‘Well, if your man’s done so well, you can’t let him down by being a coward, can you?’

‘No-o. But what about you?’

‘What about me? I’m a grown woman, Katie. I don’t need wet-nursing. Besides – I’ve been thinking of getting a job myself, going overseas as well. I want to see a bit of the world. Your dad – well, you know what he was like. I used to read books from the library about other countries and long to visit them.’

Katie’s eyes were wide with astonishment. ‘I remember that. You never got him to go to Bali, even.’

‘What was the point? At first I couldn’t afford to go, and later he used to get so tired.’ Emily chuckled suddenly.

‘What are you laughing at?’

She patted Katie’s shoulder, then hugged her for good measure. ‘It’s quite funny, really. I’ve been worrying about how to tell you that I’m going to travel a bit, maybe get a job somewhere else. And here you are worrying about leaving me alone. So it’s all turned out for the best. It was meant to be.’

She hesitated. ‘And I’m changing my name, too.’

‘Changing your name?’

‘Yes. Back to Emily Baker.’

‘Why?’

She tried to explain, but gave up after a while. Her daughter didn’t really understand this need to be herself. Katie was in the throes of being part of a family group and would be for a long time yet.

A little while later, Katie said thoughtfully, ‘What’ll you do about Gavin?’

‘What I should have done years ago. Tell him to move out.’

‘He won’t be pleased about that.’

‘No, but he’ll just have to lump it.’ Emily grinned. ‘Or find some girl to look after him, as your father did.’

‘Who’d have Gavin? He’s a right old chauvinist, thanks to Dad.’

Emily frowned. It upset her to have a son who only regarded women in such a limited way, but that wasn’t down to Tom, who had respected women. ‘I don’t think it’s your dad. It’s these fellows Gavin’s been working with up north.’

‘I must say I don’t much like his friends. But he’ll be useless at looking after himself.’

‘Well, he can learn, can’t he? He’s a grown man and I’ve done my best for him. This is my time of life and I’m going to make the most of it.’

Katie got up and gave Emily a long hug, rocking her to and fro. ‘You’re wonderful, Mum,’ she said huskily. ‘No one could have a better mother than you, no one! I’m going to miss you dreadfully. I don’t know how I’ll ever manage without you. And just wait till I tell Don about how glamorous you’ve become.’

As she got ready for bed that night, Emily looked at herself in the mirror, the same mirror that had started it all off. This time it seemed pleased with what it saw.

‘Well, my girl,’ she said aloud. ‘Here’s your chance. Don’t blow it!’

She shook out the new nightdress, a filmy thing of blue lace, the sort of lingerie she’d always hungered for but which hadn’t seemed practical. There was no one to see it except her now, but still, she’d wanted it. She smoothed it against her body. It made her look – desirable. She blushed at the thought and hurried through the rest of her preparations.

I mustn’t make a mess of this, she decided. It’ll need very careful planning. And courage. Well, she’d find that from somewhere. She wasn’t going to sit in this house till she died.

She looked round the room and her hand hesitated over the switch of the bedside lamp. The house was old, well cared for but small and badly designed. They were pulling this sort of place down nowadays and building two or three villas instead on these quarter acre blocks. If she sold the place to someone like that, she would buy a villa or flat for herself, so that she had somewhere to come back to.

She stared across the bedroom. ‘When I sell this house,’ she told the speckled old mirror, ‘I’m definitely not taking you with me.’

She switched off the light and as she snuggled down she stroked the lace yoke of her beautiful nightdress and smiled.

The Christmas Spirit

Anna’s Notes

This story was much shorter when I first wrote it, but I liked the characters so much I had to extend it before I put it in this collection. That’s the trouble with short stories. They’re tantalizing. I always want to go more deeply into what happened, not to mention working out what happened next.