Sweet Revenge thriller

Chapter Six

I'M NOT SURE WHICH INSENSITIVE journalist's intrusion into my life made me consider my life as it was and it popped into my brain that I seriously needed to dip out of society. Become anonymous. But that's what happened.

I head for my stylist. 'Jamie, I want a new look. A brand new-look.'

Just recently, when he washed, snipped and blow-waved my golden locks, not only did we chat about the weather, the gossip of the week, Jamie started to talk about the ghastly large woman with glasses and black hairs above her lip who had started a bookshop next door. Because she opened her shop later than Jamie's salon, she would pick up Jamie's street sign and place it on the corner of the street facing the wrong way.

Today he is ecstatic and can't wait to tell me the latest on the bookshop owner. 'Mr. Wordy Cow actually picked up my sign and she heaved it onto a passing truck,' Jamie says with delight.

I look up and catch his eyes. Smiling they are. 'I thought you'd be...you know, damned annoyed. You'll have to get a new street sign now,' I tell him.

'Actually, no. She will, and much, much more. The truck had a dash cam and the driver returned the sign to me, a bit worse for wear so I won't be able to use it. I've ordered a new one,' he says. 'But, she appears in court in a month. Finally, I'll get rid of Mr. Wordy Cow. Once it hits the papers what a nasty piece of work she is, no one will buy her books, she'll go broke.' He is totally gleeful with his forecast of the demise of Mr. Wordy Cow.

'You'll need to be a witness in court?' I ask. His grin is wide as he nods.

'Just a word of advice,' I tell him. 'Don't refer to her as Mr. Wordy Cow.'

'Of course not,' he says and flicks his hand up in a knowing gesture. 'It's really hard remembering she is a woman, though. She's a big motherfucker, you know? But, just for that day, I will refer to her as Mrs. Wordy Cow.' We laugh.

'Right, how short?' he asks as he turns his attention back to my shoulder length wavy blonde hair and making money.

'Very,' I tell him.

'As short as mine?' he asks and I look into the mirror at Jamie's black and gold streaked hair, cut into a short back and sides style with a cluster of long strands following the middle of his scalp from his forehead to the nape of his neck.

'Um, not really a cut I'm into. Do me a gals cut,' I ask.

'And colour?'

'You surprise me.'

Within two hours I am the shocked owner of very short bristly red hair.

'What do you think Athena, I mean Red?' he asks.

I scrutinize my new look for the longest moment and am ecstatic at how different I look. 'I think I like it, sort of. But I'm suddenly sickly looking, don't you think?' I tell him as I squint into the mirror and scan my new pale face.

'That's what usually happens when you change to a darker hair colour. But, nothing we can't sort out,' he says and within a minute he has elbowed me across the floor of the salon, pushed me into a leather chair in front of a wall mirror and a shelf laden with mascara's, foundations, lipsticks and eyeliners. 'All you need is to darken your foundation and wear brighter lipstick,' he says and rolls his eyes upwards, I guess it's his way of acknowledging that I don't wear makeup in the first place. By the time he has worked his magic, he stands back and declares, 'Well fuck me Red, you look a new person... kiss kiss!'

I had to agree with him. And if he wasn't Godsdammed gay, I would have done just that!

Jamie gave me the idea to call on my eye specialist when he pecked me on my cheek as I left his salon and said, 'Green eyes for red hair.'