The Perfect Happiness(33)
“Are you dead?” Candace leaned over her. “Oh, you can’t be, you’re snoring.”
Angelica awoke with a start. “God, did I doze off?”
“You certainly did.”
“Was I really snoring?”
“No, that was a joke. When you’re finished, I want you to meet Robert. He usually does my hair. Today, he’s going to do yours.”
“I don’t know how you find the time to do this every six weeks.”
“Every six weeks? Honey, you’ve got to be kidding! I’m in here every week for a wash and blow-dry! Don’t forget your bag,” she added, dropping it into Angelica’s lap. “You left it in the other room—with your brain!”
Angelica followed Candace through a couple of rooms full of clients reading magazines; having lunch in their chairs; getting pedicures, manicures, blow-dries, and haircuts. It was a glamorous world she was excited to be part of. Robert awaited her, a cherubic-looking man with gray hair and a bashful smile. “Over to you, Robert,” said Candace, waving her manicured hand. Robert combed her hair into a middle parting. “You should have had a manicure,” said Candace.
“That’s one beauty treatment beyond me.” Angelica looked at her short nails. “I can’t do the Park Avenue princess look.”
“You wouldn’t want to, honey. That look is so over. The trick is to look polished without looking like you’ve had the sex appeal ironed out of you.”
“You want to keep your curls?” Robert asked, scissors poised.
“I’d like to look like I’ve just got out of bed—looking perfect,” Angelica replied.
Angelica buried herself in the October issue of Vanity Fair, trying to read an article on Marilyn Monroe and not sneak a look at her hair before it was finished. Her stomach was in a knot, and she wasn’t sure whether it was at the thought of having lunch with Jack—or of having lunch with Jack with horrid hair. Their e-mails had heated up over the last few weeks. She hadn’t gone too far, but she had certainly said things she might not have dared say to his face—with her husband sitting at the other end of the table. She was now worried that she would disappoint him. That she had looked better in candlelight. That in the bright glare of day she wouldn’t look like the girl he had been flirting with by e-mail, and suddenly wish he hadn’t.
“What if he doesn’t fancy me?” she said to Candace, without taking her eyes off the page.
Candace shouted over the roar of the hair dryer. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not going to have an affair with him anyway.”
“That’s not the point. I want him to think I’m beautiful.”
“If he doesn’t fancy you, he’ll stop e-mailing you and that’ll be that—and a good thing, too.” She looked across at her friend, and her face fell. “Oh dear.”
“What?” Angelica nearly dropped her teacup. She was too afraid to look at her reflection. “Is it bad?”
“Bad, bad, bad.”
“How bad?”
“Take a look.”
Angelica’s stomach swam on a wave of nausea. She raised her eyes. Then her fears evaporated at the sight of her ravishing bed head. “Oh my God. It’s stunning.”
“Go figure!”
“Robert. You really are a genius!”
“Thank you.” He fluffed it up with his fingers. “The color’s good, too.”
“It really is.” Angelica was thrilled. “Clever Thomas. I must thank him as well.”
“There’s no chance he won’t fancy you. Unfortunately!” said Candace, staring at her with approval.
“I hope you’re right. I just want to be adored.”
“From afar.”
“From afar.”
Candace put down her magazine. “I think I should go with you.”
“Well, think again,” said Angelica, getting up with a new confidence. “I’m nearly forty years old. It’s my time to have fun. The first step to happiness is good highlights and haircut.” She delved into her wallet and pulled out a crumpled note. “This is for you, Robert, for putting down the foundation stone of my inner temple of happiness.”
Angelica picked up the children at three-thirty. The only person not to compliment her hair was Jenna Elrich, who was too busy shouting into her mobile telephone like a sergeant major. But Angelica noticed her glance in her direction a couple of times, her face as green as granite. Letizia, Kate, and Scarlet were very impressed. “Anyone would think you were having an affair,” said Scarlet.
“If they didn’t know her better,” Letizia added.