The Wedding Planner. Eve Devon
We can totally do this.’
Juliet blinked away the tears. What was she doing thinking about what she didn’t have, when all she had to do was look in the back seat of her car to see how much she already had.
‘Did you hear Arabella talking about how she’ll have her own dressing room and a bouquet delivered on opening night?’ Persephone asked.
Probably one big dressing room for the cast and the bouquet is from her mum but it did sound lovely, Juliet thought. What little girl wouldn’t love to get a star on her door and a bouquet of flowers especially delivered. Maybe she’d mention to Oscar about Melody starting ballet lessons again.
Or would that be too helicopter-y?
Trying to picture Melody reading less to have more time for ballet, wasn’t easy. The girl consumed books like they were her only source of oxygen.
‘Juliet? Could you show us how to put our hair up in a perfect bun – you know, without the donut – that’s how Arabella wears hers?’ Melody asked.
‘Sure.’
‘Do you think we could do it?’ Melody asked, her tone much less sure now.
‘I think you can do anything you put your mind to,’ Juliet said, determined to take her own advice, stick to hers and Oscar’s plan and not worry about not being pregnant yet.
‘We are going to be fabulous daaarrrling,’ Persephone announced and the two girls broke into hysterical laughter as Juliet pulled into her reserved space outside The Clock House.
Inside the beautiful red brick Georgian building, Juliet ushered the two girls towards the room on the right.
Efficiently she unlocked the glazed double doors, ensured the ‘closed’ sign was still in place and switched on the bank of lights.
This was her space, her salon, her baby, she thought, feeling the stab of pride as she looked around.
There was still hours of daylight to filter through the large square window but she loved how the discreet spotlights that studded the high ceiling, together with the five hanging chandeliers sitting over the hair-dressing stations, added a rich sparkle, turning the light warm and luxurious.
Out of habit she ran her gaze over each of the floor-to-ceiling ornately-framed mirrors painted matte cream with a touch of gold-leaf dusted on here and there. Not a smear in sight and she had her junior stylist, who was a demon with the duster, to thank for that, she knew.
The matching painted custom-made tables in front of the mirrors, with their antique hand-turned legs were cleared of magazines, hairdryers and other styling equipment. In the centre of each table there was a smaller version of this week’s main flower arrangement in reception. The slate grey squat pots with white gravel and sage green succulent looked chic and relaxing and just happened to go with the dusky rose and gold teacup and saucer holding a candle with the salon’s signature scent: rose and honey.
The hairdressing chairs had all been moved out to indicate that the floorboards had been swept and mopped.
She loved what she was creating here – loved what all of them were creating.
A perfect oasis of creativity.
Her client base was increasing month on month, mostly from word of mouth, which she loved because it meant she was getting the balance between the standard services like cutting, colouring, blow-drying and prom work, wedding work and even hair shows, right. Her stylists were happy they got to perfect the standard while pushing the art-form. All in all it made for a happy team.
Already feeling a little better, she left the girls in mani-pedi chairs, looking up ballet tutorials on YouTube on her phone. She’d double-check the appointment diary at reception for tomorrow and then go and find Emma.
As she approached the desk nestled underneath the sweeping staircase, her cousin Kate looked up with a pleased smile on her face. ‘One hundred percent occupancy in the spa all week.’ She raised her fist into the air triumphantly and then paused, ‘Hey, what’s up – you look tired.’
‘Just trying to calculate how much ballet classes might cost,’ she said, as she brought up the salon’s appointment diary and booking system. ‘Apparently ballet requires the ultimate in sacrifice and discipline, daaarling!’
‘So this is better than when they decided to have their own reality TV show, then?’
Juliet laughed. ‘Do you know why Emma wanted to see us all, I’m assuming you got the text too?’
‘I did and I don’t. Although thinking about it, she’d probably typed “The End” on the screenplay and wants to celebrate.’
‘That’s what Gloria said. I thought you were off today?’
‘I was, but then your other half decided to show off by using that big drill of his all day. I couldn’t take the noise or the dust at home, so I thought I’d come in, do a little admin.’
Oscar was busy converting Myrtle Cottage and Mistletoe Cottage into one home for Kate and Daniel to move into together and Juliet knew he’d been working to get the main part of the build signed-off so that they could start enjoying some semblance of quiet after the long hours they were putting in here.
‘By the way,’ Kate declared, waggling her eyebrows, ‘you just missed your cue to talk about how much you love Oscar’s big drill. Are you sure you’re okay?’
‘I’m fine,’ Juliet promised. At least she would be. As soon as she found something to distract herself with. Closing the appointment app, pleased to note she was also fully booked the next day, she said, ‘Come on, let’s go find Emma,’ and moving out from behind the desk she crossed the parquet flooring to enter the room opposite, Cocktails & Chai.
Kate pouted. ‘No more talk of big drills and toolboxes?’
‘Drills and tools?’ Gloria muttered, looking up from the bar as they both walked in. ‘Of course, you know what they say—’ Gloria’s voice cut-off as she dived into her large bag. One good yank and out came a folder which Juliet presumed was the weekly stats and as Gloria passed them to Kate there was a spark in her eye that Juliet had seen before.
‘Now, now, you two – play nicely,’ Juliet tried to warn, thinking it was asking the impossible, as she looked from Gloria to Kate. The two of them would die before admitting to the fact they were similarly feisty, fiercely proud, and loyal to a fault.
Somehow Gloria wrestling her way into their group balanced the three of them out, Juliet thought. Without her, Kate, Emma and she were maybe a little too concerned with treading that fine line between friendship and business and even with Daniel adding a layer of practicality to their sometimes over-enthusiastic approach, it was Gloria who always managed to get them all to focus and raise their game.
‘So come on, then,’ Kate said, looking at Gloria, completely helpless to stop herself rising to the bait, ‘what do they say?’
‘That if you have to keep talking about something …’ Gloria said.
‘Uh-huh,’ Kate nodded, waited a half-beat and then added, ‘and how’s that man-ban working out for you?’
Completely unaffected by the jibe, Gloria grinned and slid a glass down the polished marble-top of the bar towards Juliet. ‘That’s for you.’
‘What is it?’ she asked, looking at it dubiously. For all she knew it was some sort of weird fertility potion.
Ooh, not completely a ridiculous idea, she thought. Maybe she should give Trudie McTravers’ daughter, The Herbalist from Horsham, a call. She’d nearly gone to her a couple of years back on the off chance she could make her an anti-love potion to help her fall out of love with Oscar. Good job she hadn’t gone ahead with that move but getting some tips on what she could eat or drink to help her get pregnant? Sounded more legit than asking about love potions, anti or otherwise.
‘Trust