The World Spinning Round (Beatles/Paul McCartney)

26. Pizza and Fairytales

September 1969
Alice

As I sunk into the padded chair, the hairdresser lowered the bulky domed helmet over my head. The enormous hair dryer enveloped me in a whirring white noise, the pungent scent of hairspray seeping through the vents as my curls began to set.

This was my first trip to the hairdresser on my own in almost a year, thanks to Petunia, the nanny from the posh agency my mum had contacted during my lost weekend. Paul disliked Petunia and constantly moaned that his daughter would end up speaking like the Queen and would only fit in around other toffs. Never mind that she'd whipped the household into shape and somehow made Louise slightly less of a tyrant.

I flipped open the latest issue of Vogue, featuring Britt Ekland on the cover. Her eyebrows had been plucked to almost non-existence, which was something the cool girls were doing, but I wasn't sure about. I'd met her, of course, ages ago at Peter Seller's house before they got divorced. I had it on good authority that she'd moved on to the American record producer, Lou Adler, who was a terrible cad.

After several minutes of flipping from page to page, I landed on the article I was after:  "What's New in Fashion and Beauty in Paris, Rome, London, New York." My publicist had rung that morning to say that Zarby was featured, but the line had cut out before she could tell me if it was particularly positive. Scanning the text, I finally arrived at the paragraph: 

And, while not new, per se, we're continually impressed by the sartorial reinvention of Zarby London. The brainchild of Lady Alice McCartney (yes, that McCartney) launched to great fanfare with a range of far-out fashions that took the world by storm. It's our humble prediction that Zarby will never go out of style. The real question is, where will they take us next?

An intense blast of hot air emanated from the hair dryer, making me wince slightly as the metal curler next to my right ear became uncomfortably warm. Not for the first time, I wondered what the world would be like if men had to undergo the tortuous beauty rituals that women regularly did. Shifting in the seat, I re-read the paragraph several times until the words swam together meaninglessly.

It was a good question. Where would Zarby go next? I was meant to know the answer, but I didn't. I'd convinced the board of directors to give me six months to get myself together, but that had involved planning a month-long trip to seven cities on four continents with Suzie, Louise, and Petunia in tow. We were meant to fly out in mid-October and already I was feeling stressed about which outfits to pack.

The suffocating noise above my head abruptly stopped as the hairdresser lifted the contraption. Cool air surrounded me as she poked at the curlers with the very tip of a comb.

"Looks good, love," she said. "Done right, it'll last at least until Thursday."

Late afternoon was my favorite time in London, especially the quiet lull before everyone left work. I meandered down Baker Street, passing the townhouse where the fictional Sherlock Holmes. There were always a few tourists lurking outside, which I truly didn't understand because it was a made-up character they were after. God help whatever real person lived there now.

Speaking of people lurking about, there were a greater number of girls than usual outside of Cavendish. We had no idea why, though Neil guessed it was because all the papers were full of rumors that the Beatles were splitting up. According to Paul, it wasn't true but it did make me wonder why he felt the need to get absurdly high before any band meetings, almost like it was the only way he could get by.

"You're not Paul," one of the girls said. She was American and reminded me of a young Suzie, though she was much more persistent.

"You don't say," I replied dryly as I rummaged around in my purse for my key. Mal was meant to install a new device that had a lovely little fob that you could wave in front of a sensor that somehow knew to open the latch. It was new to the market and apparently very finicky, but Paul was keen to try it out.