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'Back for More' by Dreamer

If anyone had said to her that she would ever go back to that salon again after the last experience, she would have laughed. If she hadn't cried first.

Ann thought that the whole point of asking someone what they wanted was so that you could give it to them. The stylist had asked her, she had been quite clear that she wanted a trim and nothing more. When she left the salon, her hair barely grazed her collar. She had been too upset to glance back at the pile of her dark blonde hair lying on the floor as the stylist walked with her to reception. That had been the first and last time in that place. Definitely.

Yet here she was six weeks later thinking that she was overdue a haircut. Her hair was still a long way from getting in the way as she tried to do up her bra, as it had been before 'that day', but nevertheless she was thinking about where she should go for a trim.

She reached for the phone book to pick a salon, but despite sifting through the various ads for several minutes there was nothing really to distinguish one from the other. There was every chance that the one she picked would be just the one to do something that she didn't want. Her old salon had closed down, so that was no longer an option. She put the book down and went to the kitchen to make some coffee.

A few minutes later she was sitting down staring at the book again. It was time to stop being so stupid, she thought and turned the page over to get the number for 'Studio Hair'. She recognised it and picked up the phone.

She remembered the last time that she had dialled this number. She had not known what was in store for her, had been to the same salon for years and had pretty much had the same cut from the same stylist in all that time. So what had happened, really, she asked herself. They had done something that she hadn't expected. Hadn't wanted, even, and she had sulked about it for weeks.

Looking back, she couldn't really understand why she had been so indignant. She was 34, recently single and not unattractive. She had a good job and considered herself independent. So why had she felt that way? It was stupid...

'I'm sorry' she said ' I was miles away' as she suddenly realsied that the phone had been answered and someone was starting to think that they had got another silent phone call.

'That's alright, what can I do for you?'

'I'd like to make an appointment for a cut please.'

'And who would that be with?'

'Orla.'

There, she'd said it.

'She's actually got a cancellation at 5 this afternoon, or then there's 3 on Thursday. When were you thinking of?'

Ann's stomach churned furiously as she was weighing up the options. Today, Thursday, put the phone down.

'I'll take the one at 5' she said hurriedly, looking at her watch. It was 3:30 now.

'And what name is it?'

'Ann Hunter' she managed to say, her mouth suddenly dry.

'We'll see you at 5 then, Ann' the voice said.

'Yes, bye' Ann said and put the phone down on the table.

She drained the coffee and went upstairs to get ready. Her mind was racing. Should she go, what should she ask Orla to do? What would she actually end up with?

As she drove to town she decided that there wasn't really much point in asking Orla for something specific. Either the girl couldn't follow instructions or was a bit of a free spirit. So the question was, what would she say?

By the time she had parked it wasn't far off 5 so she decided to go straight to the salon rather than try to kill 5 minutes window shopping. She wouldn't actually take anything in that she was looking at, so she may as well go and confront her demon in the shape of Orla.

As luck would have it, Orla was standing talking to the receptionist as Ann walked into the salon.

'Hello, I didn't think I'd see you again' she said.

Ann was a bit taken aback and didn't know what to say. She smiled.

'You went a bit quiet on me that last time' Orla continued.

'Oh, that' I was just a bit surprised, that's all' Ann replied.

'And now you're ready to be surprised again.'

Ann wasn't sure whether that was a statement or a question. Even if it was a question, she wasn't sure what the answer was.

'I'm in your hands' was the best that she could manage.

'Right this way, then' Orla motioned.

Ann followed her, still not sure what she was doing, not sure what she was going to do.

Orla patted the back of a styling chair and stood to the side to wait for Ann to sit down.

Just like last time, Ann thought. Sit down, have a chat and then ignore everything that had been said.

Unlike last time, though, Orla swished a gown over Ann straight away rather than waiting until after they had spoken.

'So, I take it that you got over the shock of last time?' Orla asked.

'It took a while, but I got over it' she replied with a wry smile.

'And you're not growing it out?'

'No, well, I thought it needed to be tidied up a bit, that's all' Ann replied.

'So what are we doing?'

'I don't know, you seemed to have your own ideas last time.' Ann said.

'Ouch' Orla said. 'I supposed I deserved that though. So, are we friends again?'

Ann looked at her quizzically and then realised what the stylist meant.

'I've forgiven you' she replied.

'And how far does that forgiveness go?'

This girl was certainly no ordinary 'going anywhere nice for your holidays' type of stylist, Ann thought.

'It depends what you do to me'.

'Well, Orla said, pausing for a moment.

'I think that underneath all that long hair, you're a short hair sort of girl really. Taking you shorter last time started to show the world what was underneath.'

'And you think that we should do that again?'

'Not exactly' Orla replied.

'Shorter?'

'Shorter' Orla nodded.

'How much shorter?' Ann asked, somewhat concerned.

'Put it this way, if you want to leave, you should do it now' Orla said.

'Is it going to be that bad?'

'I think it's just what you need, but if you hated me last time, I dread to think what you'll think of me after this.'

Ann looked at Orla in the mirror.'

'And don't I get any say in this?'

'I think you knew when you came in that you wouldn't be getting the same as you got last time.' Orla replied.

That was certainly true, Ann thought. She had suspected that Orla would take her shorter than last time, yet she had still come in. It was as if she wanted someone else to make the decisions for her and always had. Margo, Ann's previous stylist, had been content to just trim the ends each time Ann came in, but had she been a bit more adventurous, Ann would have probably gone with it, she thought. Just as she was doing with Orla.

Ann nodded.

'So, we're doing this?' Orla asked.

'I've no idea what 'this' is' Ann said.

'Put it this way, you're going to be able to get ready to go out much more quickly in the morning' Orla replied.

'And that's as much as you're going to tell me?'

'I don't want to spoil the surprise and I think that's what you came for. So, what is it going to be? Surprise, or shall I see if one of my colleagues is free?'

'You've got a real wicked streak, do you know that?' Ann said.

'And have I still got a customer?'

'I'll think about it while I'm being shampooed' Ann said with a smile.

'You're not being shampooed until after the cut, so it will be a bit late then' Orla replied.

'Oh' Ann remarked.

'I'll go and get you somebody else' Orla said, starting to move away from Ann's chair.

'No' Ann said quicker that she would have thought possible or even prudent. 'If you think it will suit me...'

Orla moved across the salon a

nd returned with a cart full of assorted paraphernalia. Rollers, combs, all manner of things. Ann saw her bring out a gizmo with a tangled flex. Curling tongs or something she thought. Orla held them up for Ann to see.

'Do you know what these are?' she asked.

'Men's hair clippers' she said, realising her earlier mistake.

'What number does your boyfriend have?' Orla asked.

'There isn't one at the moment' Ann explained, a little embarrassed.

Orla glossed over her faux pas and re-phrased the question.

'What number did he have?'

She had never been to the barber with Rob, but she knew that he had his hair cut with clippers and somehow she also knew that what he had was a 2 or a 3 or perhaps both. He must have mentioned it at some point.'I don't know, a 2 or a 3 I think..' Ann replied, the reason for the question dawning on her as she was mid-sentence.

'You're not going to..?' she continued.

Orla flicked the switch and moved closer to Ann as the buzzing sound filled the air. With her left hand she tilted Ann's head to one side and flicked the hair away from where she placed the blades. She pressed the blades gently to Ann's neck and moved them about half an inch into the hairline. Wispy tresses on the nape of her neck were cut, but only the few stragglers that Orla would cut away as part of the final tidy up for whatever haircut she was going to give Ann. Ann was silent. Orla waited. Ann held her breath. The angle of Orla's wrist changed as the clippers started to glide up the nape of Ann's neck.

The butterflies that Ann felt coming in to the salon were nothing to what she was experiencing now. The vibration was not unpleasant, but she knew that what was happening was not good.

Ann had seen women from time to time with bobs where the back of their neck had been cut really short. That must have been done with clippers, she now realised. It was a striking look, but perhaps it would suit her. She had instinctively closed her eyes when Orla started to cut her hair, but she now ventured to open them.

Orla must have sensed the change, as she looked in the mirror to see that Ann was now back in the world.

'Trust me, you'll love it' she said.

Ann said nothing. She had been concentrating on the progress of the clippers, trying to form an impression of how high her new bob was going to go at the back. High, certainly. She saw Orla move the clippers away from her head and breathed a sigh of relief. Orla flicked the cord to free it from where it had got caught on the chair and flicked her wrist again for good measure.

'Eyes down' she said.

Ann looked down, not quite sure why, but almost immediately she felt something touch the top of her forehead. Before she could react, the buzzing sensation was moving surely across her scalp. Ann's eyes were certainly not looking down now. They were staring firmly at the furrow that Orla had just ploughed where her parting had used to be. Orla moved the clippers and cut a companion swathe across Ann's scalp. Ann was stunned at what she was seeing. A high cut bob was one thing, but this was a different ballgame altogether. Orla was now moving round to the side of Ann's head to join up the various patches of shorn hair.

'What number is that?' was the only question that she could think to ask, as if it made any difference. Her hair was almost gone, regardless of what the technical term for it was.

'3' was the terse answer.

Ann could not decide how she should be reacting. She was horrified that most of her hair had been shorn off, hair that six weeks ago comfortably reached the middle of her back. At the same time the sensation of the clippers was quite stimulating. Slightly more of a masculine sound to them than she would have liked, but nevertheless, the sensation that they imparted was very pleasant.

When they were talking about splitting up a couple of months ago, one of Rob's moans was that she didn't ever 'live for the moment' as he called it. That's just some phrase that he had got of the TV, she always told him. If she was to 'live for the moment' she would certainly want this sensation to carry on for a while longer.

The buzzing stopped. Orla fiddled with the clippers and then the buzzing started again. The clippers were back at her forehead, sweeping swiftly backwards. Ann would not have thought it possible, but almost immediately she was thinking that her hair at its number 3 length was actually quite long compared with what it was becoming with this new guard. Neither she nor Orla spoke as the clippers did their work this time, although Orla did hold up a single finger so that Ann could see in the mirror.

'Shorter than Rob' was all that Ann could think. It was too late to do anything else. It didn't even shock Ann when Orla slipped the plastic guard off the clippers, this time without turning them off. The blades eased up the sides of Ann's head. Although she wouldn't have thought it possible, what little hair that had been left on the sides was now falling to her gown. In a couple of minutes, the clippers fell silent, their work complete. Orla ran her fingers lightly over Ann's scalp, looking for any strays, Ann thought, but the effect that it was having on her was electrical. Ann wasn't sure whether it was intentional, until she saw Orla smile at her in the mirror.

'I knew you'd like it' Orla said.

'I don't know what to say' Ann commented.

'I think you do, but you're just too ladylike to utter it in public' Orla replied. 'Believe me though it's a million times better than six weeks ago'.

Orla brushed Ann's shoulders to get rid of the hair that had fallen and then motioned to Ann to go to the basin area.

Ann was never a fan of having her hair washed in salons, she always found it a bit of a strain to lie with her weight on her neck like that. This was altogether different. This wasn't a hairwash, this was foreplay, she thought. Orla was massaging conditioner into her scalp, all the stray hairs gone now. She had the lightest of touches, her fingers moving in the smallest of circles across Ann's scalp.It was exquisite.

'Can I rent you by the day to do this for me?' Ann asked, smiling.

'I think you should get out more' Orla replied with a little laugh.

Orla rinsed the conditioner off Ann's head and wrapped the towel around, rubbing gently to dry off the water.

'I don't think we'll need the dryer, will we!' Orla said.

'Not for a while' Ann conceded. She followed Orla back to the styling station and sat, leaning forward to look at herself better. Orla stood behind her as Ann tilted her head this way and that.

'Speak to me' Orla urged.

'It's ok' Ann ventured.

'Wow, as good as that' Orla said sarcastically.

'You know what I mean' Ann retorted. 'I think I'm going to like it, but it's not every day that you get your head shaved is it? It'll take some getting used to.'

'I haven't shaved your head - I thought that I would save that for next time' Orla replied.

'So you think there'll be a next time?'

Orla wrinkled her nose, raised her eyebrows and nodded. Ann smiled and got out of the seat.

As she walked towards reception with Orla, Orla placed a hand on Ann's shoulder and gave her a congratulatory pat.

'I'll see you in a couple of weeks and we'll go the whole hog, yeah?' Orla said.

'Ill think about it' Ann said, reaching into her purse for her wallet. 'I'll definitely think about it!'

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