‘What do you have in mind?’ Allie hung her dress from a hook on the back of Jo’s door and dropped casually on to her bed next to Santa.
Reaching into the wardrobe, Jo produced two small boxes and held them up. ‘Since neither of us has a date, which in my case is unprecedented, I think we should look particularly amazing tonight,’ Jo said. ‘Let’s show everyone what they’re missing.’
She tossed one box to Allie.
As she turned it over in her hands, a broad grin spread across Allie’s face. ‘You’re a genius.’
‘I know.’ Jo grabbed two towels. ‘I loved your hair when you first came here. It inspired me. Come on. You and me. Loos. Now.’
Ignoring the curious stares from two girls standing at the sinks, they ducked into a shower cubicle together, giggling.
Without ceremony, Jo took off her top and draped a towel across her shoulders. Allie did the same.
Jo pulled on rubber gloves with a loud snap and shook a plastic bottle in one hand. ‘I think I should do yours and then you do mine. It’s hard to do your own.’
Allie leaned over as Jo streamed purplish goo on to her hair, working it in with the rubber gloves.
Allie shivered deliciously. ‘I love someone else doing things to my hair.’
‘I know. It’s like a headgasm.’
‘Where did you get this stuff?’ Allie asked.
Working on the back of Allie’s head, Jo said, ‘My brother’s girlfriend sent it to me. I called her last week.’
The room smelled so strongly of chemicals Allie’s eyes watered. ‘You were planning this all the time?’
‘After we made up, it just came to me.’ Jo squished the goo through to the ends of Allie’s hair with a satisfying squelch. ‘Like a vision.’
One hour and two ruined towels later, the job was done. Back in Jo’s room they admired their handiwork.
Hanging in wet strands below her shoulder blades, Allie’s hair was vivid, almost metallic red. Jo’s short blonde locks were now shiny pink.
Dimpling prettily, Jo shook her damp locks. ‘I look like a pixie.’
A wave of melancholy hit Allie as she studied herself. ‘I look like old me.’
As if she knew what she was thinking, Jo’s eyes met hers in the mirror. ‘Old you is just as beautiful as new you.’
Someone knocked at the door. ‘Whatever you’re selling …’ Jo said, yanking it open.
Zoe and Rachel stood on the other side, their arms full of clothes.
At Allie’s insistence they were all getting ready together. After everything that had happened to drive everyone apart, she wanted – this one night – everyone to be together. Where she could keep an eye on them.
Zoe stared at Jo’s pink hair with her mouth open.
‘Oh my God, you look amazing.’ The fabric in her arm rustled as she jumped up and down in excitement.
‘Enter.’ Jo stepped back from the door. ‘And prepare to be fabulous.’
‘Leave my hair alone.’ Rachel’s eyes flickered to Allie’s head. ‘Vivid,’ was her only comment.
Allie shrugged helplessly. ‘Something came over us.’
‘Can my hair be purple?’ Zoe dropped her dress on the bed.
‘Sadly, your very young hair will have to stay its natural colour as we used up all the dye I had,’ Jo said. ‘But you can hang out with us and bask in our reflected, many-coloured glory. And I’ll put makeup on you.’ She added the last sentence hastily when she saw Zoe’s face fall.
Zoe looked up at them hopefully. ‘Lots of makeup?’
‘As much makeup as your heart desires.’ Holding up a golden tube of lipstick that sparkled in the light, Jo smiled.
First, she styled Allie’s hair into glossy red curls. Next, she wound Zoe’s straight brown hair between ribbons, pulling it back off her face and brushing it smooth until it shone like a sheet of dark glass. Then she lined Zoe’s eyes with dark blue liner and applied a lavish coating of mascara. As she painted Zoe’s lips with strawberry pink gloss, Rachel glanced over at her doubtfully.
‘She looks like a midget prostitute.’
‘I like it.’ Zoe pouted at herself in the mirror. ‘I think I look older. More mature.’
‘It’s the Cimmeria Ball. She’ll be fine.’ Jo motioned for Rachel to sit in front of her. ‘It’s not like Gary Glitter will be here.’
‘Who’s Barry Glitter?’ Zoe asked.
The others ignored the question.
As Jo began working on Rachel’s mane of dark curls, Rachel watched her suspiciously. ‘I don’t really do anything with my hair.’
‘I won’t do much either.’ Jo waved curling tongs. ‘Just a bit of this and a little of that.’
Rachel hunched her shoulders. ‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’
By now it was dark outside – the stars had disappeared behind a bank of cloud, and the air had that heavy, silent feeling that portends snow. For the last hour, Bentleys and limousines had pulled in steadily, crunching their way down the gravel lane. Now the drive was full, as far as they eye could see.
As she finished with Rachel’s thick mane, Jo glanced at the clock on her desk, currently covered in sparkly gold tinsel. ‘It’s time, ladies.’
After makeup touch-ups, they zipped each other’s dresses then stood in front of the full-length mirror to take it in.