Wild Fiction

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‘All my training came from the West End. Every night for fifteen years I would do makeovers for the most complicated faces the actors needed to put on. I could make Allan Rickman look like Donald Duck and Richard Branson look like Naomi Cambell. If you gave me a paintbrush, makeup, plastic skin, and an actor, I would give you back whatever you wanted.’
Gunther massaged her scalp as he washed her hair. She let out a little moan. His delicate experienced fingers rotated in small circles stimulating the skin and separating the tangles of hair. She felt electric shivers run from the roots of her hair and down her spine. Her body trembled as she gripped the arms of the chair.
‘Mmm, that feels so good,’ she purred closing her eyes. It didn’t last long enough, it never did. Forever wasn’t long enough, as far as she was concerned. Gunther dried her hair and spun her around to face the mirror. In the reflection, she could see Pelolina saying good bye to the old lady and leading Rebecca to the chair.
‘This is dirty. There’s hair everywhere,’ Rebecca said. ‘I want to sit over there,’ she pointed at the chair next to Genevieve.
‘I suppose that’s all right,’ Pelolina said looking towards Gunther and raising her eyebrows. Gunther was not looking in her direction. He was staring intently at the ends of Genevieve’s auburn hair, which he had just combed straight.
‘You have lovely hair, what can I do for you?’ Pelolina asked Rebecca once she was seated.
‘Well what can you do for me?’ Rebecca replied.
‘Can I recommend a wash, condition, treatment, cut and blow wave.’
‘Whatever,’ Rebecca said.
Genevieve kept stealing glances at Rebecca in the mirror. She could see that Rebecca was doing the same thing and whenever their eyes met they both quickly looked away in embarrassment.
‘So what’s the latest?’ Gunther asked Genevieve. He appeared to be oblivious to Pelolina and Rebecca next to them.
‘The usual, I’m doing a bit of painting and going to the gym.’
‘Are you still going to The Body at the end of High Street?’
‘I am. It’s very good. Very exclusive.’
‘Are you still seeing Stephen?’
Genevieve narrowed her eyes and scowled at Gunther. ‘Shut up you idiot,’ she hissed at him.
‘I’m sorry, I meant to ask if he’s still your personal trainer,’ Gunther’s permanent smile became not so permanent and he dropped the scissors with a clatter on to the floor.

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