Amanda gets a new haircut.

Amanda gets a new haircut

Mandy stepped carefully out of the hairdressers' salon holding her head upright to keep her new hairdo in place. It wasn't like her to waste her money on something so frivolous but these days she was feeling so different from her old life that the small fortunate she had just handed over seemed like a small price to pay for a brief moment of actually feeling alive once again.
She was so eager to get home that she never noticed the admiring looks she got from both men and women. Holding her head up gave a certain style to her trim figure and belied the image that she had spent years creating. Dressed casually in neat navy trousers with a white blouse she looked the part of a woman ten years younger than her true age of fifty-five.
Nobody looking at this attractive woman would ever know the inner turmoil she carried like a stone around her neck, instead with her new blonde highlights and short cropped hair she could easily have passed as a business woman.

On reaching the safety of her own home Mandy took a long look at herself in the hallway mirror, she had been so stunned by her own impulsive actions that she had only briefly glanced at the image of herself in the salon's mirror. Now she looked at the women staring back at her 'Is this really me?' she thought to herself studying the warm blonde hair with golden highlights.
The image gave no answer, how could it when Mandy still saw herself as a widow with one grown-up son and one daughter Karen now away at university?
The tears sprung up quickly and once again she hurried to her daughter's old room now empty of everything that made up Karen's life here, her books, the computer, her clothes all the things that reminded her so sharply of Karen's absence. Sinking onto the bare bed she picked up "Boss her daughter's old teddy bear and once again gave way into the grief and loneliness that haunted every waking moment of her life.
In her dreams she could still see Malcolm's face undamaged by the cancer that ate away at him until the last moment when she had to finally face the truth that he had gone and left her behind. Here, in dreams, he was still young again like her, Graham was still a toddler holding onto his dad's hand while they both looked lovingly down at their new baby daughter. Now the images came more quickly, Graham riding his first bike, Karen taking those first few wobbly steps to her dad. Malcolm on a fishing trip with Graham holding up a tiny fish with pride. Karen in her first school uniform looking smart but full of worry that she wouldn't fit in at her new school.

As she slept the images took on a life of their own tumbling together through family holidays outings and birthdays. There was Graham proudly posing for the camera in his Royal
Navy uniform. Karen at birth, taking her first riding lesson, playing the piano, acting in the school play and finally kissing her dad goodbye. Graham on leave knowing that he would never fish with his father again. Malcolm's own dear face when they said their wedding vows overlapped by the final image of him laid out in his coffin, too young to leave his family behind.
Mandy awoke suddenly the tears still wet on her face her clothes rumpled and her new hairdo flat on one side. It took her a moment to realise why she had awoken unbidden from her sleep. "Bringggggggg bringggggggggg went the telephone, 'was it Graham or please dear god make it be Karen phoning to say she was okay.' At least there was still a telephone extention in Karen's room, 'Hello, Mandy here', 'Glad you are in Mandy are you coming to the group tonight?'
It was Pippa from the library; Mandy remembered promising that she would attend the new women's discussion group that was held on Tuesdays. For a space of a few heartbeats she nearly made up another excuse but then reminded herself that she had told Karen she was fine and going out again, it wasn't fair to pretend she had done nothing but mope since Karen went to university.
'Of course I'll be there', the lie tripped easily off her tongue' I'm looking forward to it, in fact I've even had my hair done for the grand opening'.
Pippa seemed relieved 'To be honest Mandy I was worried that nobody would turn up and¦um my supervisor thought I may be taking on more than I can do'.
Mandy put as much warmth in her voice as she could manage after her long crying bout' I wouldn't miss it for anything' she told her only friend 'don't worry it will be fine'.
Pippa sounded relieved 'are you going to bring your stories?'
'Not tonight hon. lets see what the others will come up with'
'Seven okay for you?'
'Fine, I'll see you later'

Mandy looked at the clock there was still time to cook a meal but it seemed so pointless for just one person, instead she made herself a quick sandwich. Karen's last words were taunting her, 'Promise me mum that you will look after yourself you're getting far too skinny ' Karen laughed to take the sting away' I can't have my mum looking like my older sister now, can I?'
'When did her daughter grow up so suddenly?' she thought and then remembered the long hours she had nursed Malcolm until it was time for the hospice care to take over the last few weeks of his life. Her children had to grow up; she was barely capable of coping herself.

She thought about Pippa her only friend from the library where she had spent so many times looking for books firstly on cancer research and afterwards on anything that would numb the pain inside.
Her old friends had soon stopped calling, there was only so much grief they could take but Mandy still felt bitter about it. Pippa had been the stranger she could confide in, the one person that didn't judge her on her long mourning process. Over the last two years they had become good friends and when she had suggested starting a woman's group on reading and writing Mandy felt she should back up her friend. Sometimes she felt ashamed of herself, poor Pippa had not had much of a life looking after her elderly parents and never having a life of her own, at least she had tasted the love of a good man and had two wonderful children to care about her.

That evening she took a long time deciding what to wear, she wanted to look smart but also felt that maybe she had grown a little too old too soon, so decided on a pale blue jumper to go with her navy trousers adding at the last minute a bright scarf that Karen had bought her, tonight she would try to make her daughter proud of her.
Last minute nerves nearly got the better of her but poised outside the library doors Pippa came and rescued her. The whole evening passed in a blur making new friends and discussing what the group were hoping to achieve in the next few months. First they would be discussing the latest books and then, hopefully, would start their own writing group.
Mandy had never realised how much she missed her own writing until now. Malcolm had been a teacher they had met in university when both were reading English for their degrees, Malcolm had wanted to teach, Mandy was set on a career in journalism but they had married young and the only writing she had done since were stories for her own children.
Now she thought about those stories safely hidden away in the attic known only to her and Pippa. Would she ever dare to bring them to the group? They were a strange mixture from young mums, college students and a few older people like she and Pippa, would they laugh at her? Only time would tell.

The next day Mandy felt the familiar grief wash over her, there was only so much cleaning she could do in one day and time was hanging heavily on her hands. She decided to write a letter to her children, Graham's letter would be forwarded on to him; Karen's would arrive in a few days. As she sat down to write she wondered what she could put in, what had she done in the last few weeks that would interest her children? Karen would be pleased with her new hairdo, perhaps she could have one of those passport photos taken but they always turned out so awful. 'No' she thought to herself, 'If the group gets off the ground then maybe the local press may even cover it, after all not much of interest happened here in her own small town. 'I'll sent a cheerful postcard' she thought, that would show them she was not crying herself to sleep every night. Her children had their own lives to live and worrying about their mother could hold them back.

Her errand was done, now how could she fill in the empty hours? Could she? Would she? The stories were still there in the attic every single one she had written over the years, fairy stories for Karen, battles and knighthood quests for Graham. Quickly she changed into old jeans and a sweater, the attic would be filthy after all this time.
Hours later she sat down with a glass of chilled wine, her nerves were strained to breaking point with all the memories stored away in the attic.
There were the course books that she and her husband had never thrown away. All the old toys had been carefully wrapped up and put away; she had never known how much she hoarded things. Soon when she felt stronger all this could be donated to charity or put on a bonfire before Christmas. The old books were there, pages and pages of stories written over nearly ten years, how had she come to write so much?
Now, running her fingers through her hair she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror the blonde streaked with grey dust adding all those empty years back on her face. 'I'm not doing this' her words echoed in the empty room, 'my kids won't see me like this I'm not, repeat not, giving in'.

Over the next few months Karen phoned often full of the wonderful time she was having at university the work was going fine, she had lots of friends, the cheerful chatter rang hollow in Mandy's ears but not once did she let on how much she missed her daughter.
The writing group had now expanded and guest speakers came to encourage their work. Every week now stories and poems became the main topic and slowly Mandy started to share her children's stories.
A guest speaker, Roy, from the local college creative writing course was keen for Mandy to join his group but something always held her back. Maybe it was the way he looked at her, the gentle brush of her hand, a compliment on her writing or just her own imagination, but she wasn't yet ready to let a new man into her life just yet.

The stories she thought would be so out-dated were hailed by the whole group as having that timeless quality all children would come to love so early in December Mandy finally allowed Pippa to type them up on the computer, a device that she was beginning to use for herself.
Sometimes she thought of buying one for herself but her old frugal habits kept deterring her.
One thing she had kept up was her local trip to her hairdressers; on top of the hairdo she now added a beauty treatment indulging in the luxury of being pampered.
Christmas was coming up fast and she wondered if Karen would come home for the holidays, maybe the college was becoming a way of life to Karen, guiltily she remembered one such holiday when her and Malcolm had pretended to their parents that they were staying there to swot when actually they were wrapped up in each other's arms.

Mandy was happily baking a cake for Christmas when the phone rang,'Oh damn and blast it' she grumbled, but it kept on ringing so wiping her floury hands on her pinney she snatched up the phone 'Mandy here', there was a slight pause and then 'Mum it's me I was so worried I can hardly ever get you on the phone, oh mum please can I come home for Christmas, I miss you?'¦¦¦.'Mum?'
Mandy could hardly speak, what had she done? She had been so sure that Karen was happy and wallowing in her own self-pity had she ever really listened to what her own heart was telling her? Determined not to be a drain on her children's emotions she had found a new life for herself and one that she wasn't going to let go, yes, her children needed her but one day they would go their own way much as she had done herself. But in the meantime her daughter still needed her and she needed her daughter as well.
'Darling I've missed you too, more than you will ever know, come home soon in fact I'll even come and pick you up'
'But mum, you don't drive'
'I do now darling and I have a few more surprises in store for you'
'A man' the question was spoken quietly, hesitantly.
'No, remember the stories I used to read to you?'
'They were the best stories I've ever heard' there was genuine feeling in Karen's voice.
'Then I do have a Christmas present especially for you and Graham as well'
'Graham's home for Christmas?'
'Maybe darling, I'm not sure, but we'll have a wonderful time anyway.'
'Can I lick the pudding bowl'? Laughter hovered on the edge of her voice it was an old pleasure both children had loved.
'Too late, I'm doing it now' Mandy's grin lit up her face.
'Tell me about the surprise mum'
'No way, Christmas is for surprises'
'I love you mum' Karen spoke gently.
'I love you too so when are you coming home?'
'Um¦Well I've got a lift but I could come right now.
'Bring him too, he'll be welcome '
'How did you know?'
'Feminine intuition dear don't ever knock it'.

Mandy smiled to herself, what a fool she had been to think her children wouldn't need her still. But she did have a surprise, a book of her own stories bound together neatly with a dedication to her children, she may lose than for a while but in the end they would always return and she'd be here waiting for them, come what may.

© Lisa Fuller May 2005.

I've been writing stories for a few years now but actually taking that gigantic step towards publication still has me scared stiff. This is one that turned out as I wanted it to but I'm still fragile about submitting my work, so be gentle with me.