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"You'll never guess what" Fiona exclaimed, pausing just as she lifted her cup to her lips. I hated it when she did that.

"What?" I said, knowing that she wouldn't continue until I had played her little game.

"A guy in our office was suspended yesterday."

"So..." I queried, trying not to let my inquisitiveness show too much.

"They caught him with various pictures on his PC when they did an audit."

So what's exciting about that I thought. My disappointment must have been clear for her to see.

"No, it wasn't your usual porn, this was different. Word has it that he had hundreds of pictures of women getting their hair cut. Imagine getting suspended for that. I think the guy will leave 'cause you can just imagine what everyone in the office will do to him. I thought he was OK, not creepy at all, but what the hell would he be doing with stuff like that?"

"I don't know, perhaps he wants to be a hairdresser," I said, matter-of-factly.

"Well, he'd be a strange hairdresser. Apparently some of them showed women with really short cuts or even getting their heads shaved."

"I'm sure he was a great hit at the Christmas party!"

Actually, he was....." she said, and then paused.

"You didn't...?" I quizzed.

She said nothing.

"You screwed a weirdo!" I said, unable to contain my amusement, but then was suddenly aware that my voice was perhaps a little louder than I had intended. She scowled at me to keep it down.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." I said.

"No, you shouldn't, he's a perfectly nice man. He just happens to have an unusual interest," she said in his defence.

"And you didn't know?"

"No, it never came up, he never mentioned it."

"Well, he wouldn't would he, not when he's on a promise at the Christmas party."

"You're horrible" she said, pretending to be outraged.

"So..?"

"So, what?" she fired back.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I don't know, I feel sorry for him, everyone talking about him like that."

"Yeah, I suppose it can't be much fun" I said. The conversation petered out and we paid and said our goodbyes.

A week or so later Fiana called me one evening and asked if I wanted to go round to dinner the following day, nothing fancy, just a bit of supper really.

I turned up on her doorstep clutching a reasonable bottle of wine and kissed her lightly on the cheek. We chatted in the kitchen and then I saw that there were three plates laid out. Just a friend, she said, no-one I knew. Soon enough, the doorbell rang and she went to answer it. I could her a man's voice and was introduced to Andy. I smiled at him, thinking that he was rather more presentable than Fiona's usual type. I could quite get to like him, I thought.

The evening passed swiftly, the three of us got on really well, talking about everything and nothing and I was sad that it ended. I was afraid that I had drunk a little more than I should have and was really glad that I had decided to take a cab for the evening.

I said my goodbyes and left the two of them to whatever they were going to do.

I phoned Fiona the following day just to say thank you and also in hope of a little gossip. She refused to be drawn on the phone, but did agree to meet for a coffee at lunch-time. That was one way to make the morning go faster.

I was at the coffee shop a few minutes before she made it and I sat there reading a magazine. I felt a rush of air by my side and there she was, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"You hussy!" I said.

"You're just jealous" she replied.

"Well go on, tell me" I begged. She just smiled.

"I'm going to hit you if you don't stop smiling like that" I said in exasperation.

"Well, did you like him?" she asked.

"Yeah, he seemed like a nice guy, but we're here so that you can tell me what you got up to."

She shrugged her shoulders.

"You were there. We talked. You went. We stopped talking. Simple as that."

"I bet you didn't even wait for me to get in the taxi did you?"

"Well, I probably still had my underwear on, but only just." I looked away with a smile.

"So you liked him?" she asked again.

"I said I did, didn't I?"

She was quiet for a second.

"That was him" she said.

I looked at her with my best puzzled expression.

"That was him, the guy who's been suspended."

"The hairdresser?"

"Don't call him that, he just has 'interests'" she chastised. "You have your little thing, he just has a hair thing."

"I consider myself told off" I said. We sat in silence again.

"He's just a normal guy and for your information, he's the best thing I've had in the sack for a while."

"And you've had a few..." I said, before realising that it was probably not the best thing to say just at that moment.

"I like him, regardless of what people say about him."

"So have we met the future Mr Fiona?"

"I wouldn't go that far, but let's just say that I've bought him a toothbrush."

"Wow, that is serious" I said. I was starting to feel guilty about making fun of him.

She paused to take a sip of her coffee.

"He's so sad at the moment, I just want to cheer him up."

"It sounds to me like you did that last night."

"Twice" she snapped back playfully."I meant that I want to do something for him, to cheer him up."

I was about to ask her what she meant when I realised that she had straightened in her chair and was subconsciously fingering the ends of her hair.

"Oh, Fi!" I said. I rarely called her that and when I did, she knew that I was either really mad at her or really concerned that she was doing the wrong thing.

"What?" she exclaimed. "It's only a haircut."

"But your hair's lovely."

"It's only hair."

"Has he asked you to do it?"

"No, I want it to be a surprise. If he asked me I probably wouldn't, you know what I'm like."

"So why do it?"

"It would make him happy, but I just thought that it's about time I changed it. I've had it like this forever." That was certailnly true. I could recognise her at some distance in clubs and shopping malls, just by the way her hair fell to her shoulders in that very precise way.

"So what are you going to do? I asked. Before she had a chance to answer, another thought crossed my mind. "You're not going to let him do it, are you?"

"No, it wouldn't be a surprise then, would it. I just want him to turn up and see it."

"So what are you going to do?" This time I bit my lip to give her a chance to answer.

"I don't know. I was thinking that I would just go somewhere and let them get on with it."

"Why don't you go blonde while you're at it?" I quipped.

"That's an idea" she replied, looking more serious than I had seen her for a while.

"So when's the big event?"

"I don't know, I've got to find somewhere first."

"I'm sure they'll be queuing up to do it."

"I'll find somewhere" she said. She looked at her watch, seeming to realise that she needed to be back at work. She drained her cup and reached for her purse to get some money. She paid and we were off.

"I didn't realise you were so short of time" I said.

"I thought I could do a quick bit of scouting while I'm out."

"Why don't you just go to your usual place?"

"I don't know, this is different," she said.

"I didn't know you could walk this quickly" I said, struggling to keep up with her. We walked rapidly down the main street, past all the clothes stores that I wanted to stop and look at and only slowed as we came to a hairdressers. She slowed and then sped up again.

"What was wrong with that?"

"I don't know, I didn't like the look of it."

"How can you say that, you didn't slow down enough to see it."

"I didn't like the window display, that's all" she said, marching on.

This scenario was repeated past four different salons until I was getting quite exasperated. It was getting to the point where I too needed to be getting back to work, if only to escape from this mad dash around town.

"Fi, stop a minute" I said, catching her by the arm. She turned to look at me. "Look, we could do this all afternoon. How about you either go into the next place we see or we forget it for today."

"I'm sorry Ali, I forgot about the time. Why don't you head on?"

"It's not that, it's just the sight of you charging through town like a mad-woman."

"Okay, the next place it is" she said and started to walk.

I didn't actually think that there were any salons at this end of town, but there we were standing outside 'Hair International'. I'm not sure how international it would get stuck here at the edge of town, but at least they thought big.

Fiona took a deep breath and walked in, pausing only to hold the door for me.

"Hi" she said to the receptionist "I was wondering if you could take me now, without an appointment."

The receptionist smiled at her in an almost patronising way. "I'm sorry madam, the ladies' side is all appointment only, it's only the gents who get away without making an appointment."

Fiona started to turn towards me, but stopped and turned back towards the receptionist.

"I was going to have quite a lot off anyway, I don't mind having one of the men's stylists do it."

The receptionist angled her head slightly and nodded. "Let me see if anyone is free."

She came from behind the desk and walked through the archway to her right. I could hear chatter and activity to the other side, which was presumably the busy women's salon, but there was nothing from what must be the men's side.

A few seconds later she was back, followed by another slightly older woman, probably in her early forties.

"Hi" she said "I hear you want a haircut and you want it now", a smile appearing on her face. Fiona nodded.

"Come on through and we'll see what we can do" she said. She was certainly more accommodating than her receptionist colleague.

"Jo tells me that you're thinking of going short."

"Yeah, I'm bored I just want to try going short."

"Ok, so what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that I just want to leave it to you."

"So that it's my fault when you don't like it, is that it?"

"No, it's a surprise for someone," she said, looking towards me to see the look of disapproval that she knew would be on my face.

"I see, and this someone is a man?" Fiona nodded.

"And what has he got to make you want to sacrifice this lovely hair?"

A fetish, I thought.

"He likes short hair and he needs a bit of cheering up at the moment."

"So here we are then," Jo said "well, you'd better take your coat off and have a seat." She looked first to the coat rack and then to the black styling chair to her left. Fiona handed her coat to me and sat down, where the stylist covered her in a gown, freeing the trapped hair with a practised flick of the wrist.

"Ok, young lady, how short does this lucky man like his lady's hair?"

Now we were getting down to business, I thought. I sat back in the chair to watch the proceedings unfold, scarcely believing that she would really go through with it.

"I don't think he'd object if I turned up with a man's haircut" she said.

"That's good, becasue that's the only sort I'm good at!" the stylist replied. "Now, there's men who have longer hair and there's men who have no hair..."

"I think if you went towards the 'no hair' end of the spectrum that you would be quite close" Fiona replied.

"And you're happy about that?"

"I'm curious and it's something I want to do for him," she replied.

"I get the picture. Now, I can go in stages, or I can just go for what I think you mean, but I can't put it on once it's cut."

"Just go for it" Fiona replied, surprising me with her resolve.

The stylist combed out Fiona's hair, savouring the novelty of having so much to play with. She stepped to the side and picked up a pair of clippers, the sort I've seen used on men in the salon that I go to. Then I realised how blindingly obvious it was, we were sitting in a men's salon, so of course the stylist would use the sort of equipment that they use on men.

I saw Fiona jump a little when the stylist turned them on.

"This is your last chance to have a say in what I'm going to do," the stylist said, bending at the waist slightly so that she could look Fiona in the eye.

"I'm ready" she said.

Almost before the words were out of Fiona's mouth the stylist had placed the clippers at the back of Fiona's head, using them in a way that I did not expect. She seemed to hold them the wrong way up and use them just to slice through the length of Fiona's hair. This wasn't how I had seen them used before, but then I suppose that she must have to use them differently because of the length of the hair that she was dealing with. Regardless of how she was using them, a length of hair fell to the floor, its fall broken only by the back of the chair. The stylist went in again, in the same fashion. Hank after hank of hair from the back of Fiona's hair fell to the floor. The stylist worked her way around Fiona's head until she had created a sort of short bob type style, probably lip length at the front.

She stood back for a second to assess what she had done, pausing to check that Fiona was still alright. She fitted a plastic attachment to the clippers and moved closer to Fiona again. She placed the blades dead centre of Fiona's forehead and without any further hesitation she drew the machine across the top of Fiona's head. The displaced hair was forced back until there was nothing else to support it and it fell to the floor to join the rest of the severed tresses. The clippers went back to the front and caressed her scalp again and again until the damage that they had done was clear to me from my slightly distant viewpoint. The stylist didn't pause until she had reduced Fiona's hair to the same length all over. Length was probably the wrong word, because there was nothing long about it. It was dramatically short, it certainly looked less than an inch and could have been less than that. Fiona had said nothing.

"So, how much does this man need to be cheered up?" the stylist asked.

"He's having a pretty rough time at the moment" Fiona said.

"I can cheer him up more if you like" the stylist said.

Fiona turned to me and beckoned me over. As I walked towards her I started to appreciate just how much she had had cut off.

"What do you think?" she asked me.

"About what?" I replied.

"Is it too short? Do I look like a freak?

"You'd never look like a freak, whatever you did, you know that," I said, trying my best to reassure her. It was short, but once I got used to it, I could see that it would suit her.

"So are we giving the gentleman what he wants?" the stylist asked.

Fiona looked at me again. "You know why he's sad and you know what would cheer him up" I said to her.

"Would you do it, if it was you?" she asked.

"It isn't," I replied.

"But would you?" she pressed.

I nodded.

The clippers sprang back into life. They sounded much more insistent up close. I took a step backwards and watched in amazement as Fiona's shortish hair was pushed across her scalp, gathering in little clumps before it fell. What was left was seriously short, merely stubble. She looked strange with a furrow across her scalp, but the strangeness didn't last long. The furrow was widened with the next pass of the clippers and then it was gone. The stylist moved around to the sides and as she did, she removed the guard. There was a definite contrast between the length on the top and what was being left on the sides, although I hadn't thought it possible.

I stood and watched as the stylist blended in the two different lengths with the expertise of someone who does this day in, day out. And then it went quiet.

"How's that?" the stylist asked.

Fiona looked at me. "You look gorgeous" I said, actually meaning it, which really surprised me. I never thought that a woman could look so striking without hair. I know that models do it, but we're talking woman in the street, office woman here, not someone who graces a catwalk.

The stylist swept the stray hairs off Fiona's shoulders with a little brush before unfastening the gown. Fiona stood up and reached forward to kiss me on the cheek.

"Thank you" she said softly.

"For what?" I asked.

"For coming with me."

"It wasn't as if I had much choice, was it?" I said with a smile.

The stylist took a step towards us.

"So were you serious when you said you would do it?" she said. Then I realised that she was looking at me.

"I, er.." I stammered.

"You could really bring him out of his blue patch, then he'd have the two ladies in his life pulling together for him" she said.

Since when had I been a lady in his life, I wondered. Most of those were only two-dimensional. No, that was cruel, I thought. He can't be that bad if he's made Fiona so happy so quickly.

Fiona looked at me again.

"Will you stop looking at me like that," I said. "Come on, let's go."

The stylist put the gown over the back of the chair, accepting that her work was done. Fiona reached for her purse and walked over to the cash desk to pay, waiting to be joined by the stylist.

The stylist leaned towards me and whispered "I think it would make her really happy." and then walked towards the cash desk. I stood there listening to them sort out payment, just looking into space. I turned to look at what was taking so long and saw the back of Fiona's head. It looked graceful, distinctive, distinguished even.

By the time they had finished what they were doing I was sitting in the chair. I could almost sense the surprise from this distance. The stylist walked towards me and swathed me in the same cape she had used for Fiona. My hair was reasonably short already, thick and dark, with a slight natural wave. The transformation for me would be nowhere near as dramatic as Fiona losing her shoulder length hair, but it would be dramatic for me. It was the shortest now that it had ever been, apart from when it was cut two weeks ago, of course. I had been going progressively shorter for the past couple of years, but had thought that the current length would be where it would stop for now.

The stylist rested a hand on my shoulder. "We've got two people to please here, are you ready for that?"

I wasn't sure what she meant, but I nodded anyway. Whatever she did was going to be ludicrously short. She looked at Fiona.

"How would you like it?" the stylist asked.

Fiona reached up and stroked the side of her head. The stylist took the guard off the clippers and they were at my forehead. I watched in the mirror as the same sort of furrow that I had seen on Fiona was created on my scalp. I felt nothing. Well, no remorse anyway. I did feel a little excited as more and more of my scalp was revealed. Fiona positioned herself so that I could see her in the mirror. She smiled at me. I smiled back. I was actually enjoying this. Some parts of my skull seemed more responsive to the vibration of the clippers than others. I closed my eyes, then opened them again, conscious that Fiona was probably watching me. The stylist was finishing off the back of my head, but I could see all that I needed to see. I had the finest covering of dark stubble on my scalp, apart from that, nothing. Then quiet returned.

I eased my shoulders back, in a bid to ease the tension that had crept in. I waited for the feel of the brush on my shoulders, but instead I felt a coldish sensation on my scalp. I looked in the mirror. She was spreading shaving foam over my scalp.

"Trust me, it will suit you" she said, sensing my disquiet.

I watched for the next few minutes she scraped away at my scalp with a safety razor, leaving only a hint of foam in its wake. When I thought she had finished, she wiped my head with a towel, ran her fingers over the skin with the lightest of touches and then lathered me up again. I hadn't even expected a trim when I came in and now here I was, clean shaven not once, but twice.

Fiona was staring at me transfixed as the stylist worked. I think that she already knew that she would be sitting having her head shaved soon enough, but that it wouldn't be by a female barber.

The stylist wiped my head for the last time and then looked for my reaction.

"I would never have believed that I would do that."

"But you have."

"I know, aren't I the wild one" I said with a malicious grin.

"I'll touch it up for you for free if you want next week" she said.

"I'm not sure that I'll be keeping it like this," I replied.

"If you're anything like the guys I get in here, it will take a lot to get you back to looking after hair now that you've experienced that."

"Well, let's see what the reaction is at work first" I said, suddenly remembering that I had only popped out for a coffee. That should give them something to think about when I got back!

Fiona offered to pay for my cut, but the stylist refused, saying that it was her pleasure to introduce me to the world of no hair. Despite what she had just done to me, I did think that there was every chance that I would be back to see her. As for Fiona, I think that she would have somebody else to takeover maintenance duty.

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