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"I can't believe you've come all this way for a wedding!" the styist exclaimed.

"I'm struggling with it myself, but that's what happens when you make friends with Aussies and they want to come back home to get married." I replied.

"So, how long are you here for?" she asked.

"Actually in Australia for a week, but then I'm going to stop off in the Far East on the way home, so it will be a couple of weeks before I have to go back to work."

"Lovely" she said quietly, once again concentrating on a complicated twist in my 'you'd only ever do it for a wedding' up-do.

I couldn't believe that I was having to go through with this, but Shelley had stipulated that she wanted this particular look and there was no choice but to do what the girl wanted for her wedding day. I was just hoping that my hair would recover from being twisted this way and that and wouldn't hold this 'hair torture' against me by being non-cooperative for the next couple of weeks.

The stylist remained quiet while she worked out exactly how to get my hair to stay as she wanted it, so I took the opportunity to explore the salon, allowing my eyes to wander wherever they could without the need for me to move my head in any way at all.

Just to my left I could see a brightly coloured poster. It was as much as I could do to read it from where I sat, but I could make out the words 'World's Greatest Shave'. I tried to make out more and hadn't noticed that the stylist had finished with the intricacies of my style and was actually looking for some sign of approval from me.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"I don't know, what is it?" I asked, turning towards her.

I saw her expression drop and realised that we were talking at crossed purposes.

"I'm sorry, Charlie" I said hurriedly. "I thought you were talking about the poster. It looks great."

"What does? Your hair or the poster?" she asked with a mischevious smile on her face.

"My hair, of course. It's not what I would have chosen, but you've done it perfectly, just like the picture." To be honest, I hated it and thought that it made me look ridiculous, but that was just a general observation about any attempt to force my shoulder length hair to do anything so orderly.

"So, are you going to do it?"

I looked at her, puzzled at first.

"Oh, that" I said. "No, I won't be here then" I continued, having now realised that it wasn't due to take place for another two weeks. I'll be on my way home by then.

"Otherwise you would" she added.

"I don't really know what it is" I said.

She took a couple of minutes to explain what it was all about, how it was essentially a charity fund raiser where people were sponsored to either colour or cut their hair. I thought that it sounded a fun way to do something positive about a very serious subject.

"So, are you interested?" she asked again.

"Like I said, I won't be here, but I'm more than happy to make a contribution" I replied.

"You could come back and see me after the wedding" she ventured.

I didn't know what to say.

"Have you done it?" I managed to ask, pleased that I was able to move the conversation away from myself.

"I coloured mine a couple of years ago and last year, one of the women I had just shaved said that she would sponsor me to get in the chair, so I did. Most amazing thing I've ever done."

"How much did you cut off?" I asked.

"The lot" was the short reply. I looked at her with her neat bob-length hair and struggled to imagine that she would do something like that.

"I know it sounds stupid, but it really changed the way I think about things. MY hubby loved it, said that it had brought out a new person in me. I keep changing my hair colour every month or so, cut it now and again, just to keep him guessing."

"But you shaved it?" I said, still not quite believing it.

"Oh yes. It was the start of something big. Went hairless all over, so did the hubby once he realised the effect it had. Sorry, perhaps a little too much information for you there" she apologised.

"Everywhere?"

"You want to pep things up a bit, get yourself waxed. You won't believe how it turns them on." she said with a wicked smile. "That is, if you haven't already discovered that for yourself" she added.

She really isn't holding back, I thought, trying to think of a way to pay her and to leave.

"We do the waxing upstairs if you're interested" she said.

"Maybe some other time" I replied. "You have certainly stimulated my interest though" I added, immediately regretting my choice of words.

"Trust me, that's not all that it will stimulate" she replied with a knowing smile.

I smiled weakly at her, getting up out of the chair. She walked with me over to the cash register and told me how much I owed her.

"Tell you what, take a sponsorship form to the wedding. Get everybody there to sponsor you and come back to me. I could give you some tee-shirts to sell if you want. Nobody will care that you did it a bit early, the important thing is that you will have helped enormously."

I couldn't refuse the proferred form and put it into my bag along with my wallet.

"I'll do what I can" I replied. "Thanks Charlie."

And with that I was gone, suddenly conscious of the looks of interested passers-by who were wondering what could possibly have led me to have a hairstyle such as the one that I was now sporting. I focussed on the middle distance and kept walking.

The wedding came and went, in the way that weddings do. People got very excited and then were left with the clearing up afterwards. It wasn't until I was emptying out my formal hand-bag the next day that I found the sponsorship form that Charlie had given to me. I had forgotten all about it.

I checked out of the hotel where all the wedding guests were staying and packed up the stuff in my car. I had mapped out a route of various places that I would be able to explore in the short time that I had, but hadn't really got a set itinerary. I looked at my watch. Eleven thirty. In the morning. Eleven thirty at night back home. Late, but not too late.

I phoned Pete to let him know that all had gone well, that I hadn't run out on him, hadn't been eaten by some bush animal. It was good to hear his voice, even though it hadn't been that long since I left home.

We were just winding up the call, getting to the 'miss you' part when I suddenly asked him what he though about a different 'me' coming home to him.

"How different, in what way" he asked suspiciously. "You've not got a tattoo, have you?" he probed.

I smiled and thought about Charlie and her waxing suggestion.

"How would a less hairy me turn you on?" I asked.

"Less hairy?" he queried.

"Nothing to get caught in your teeth, that sort of less hairy" I added, suddenly looking around to make sure that no-one was listening.

"Why can't you ask me things like that when you're here, not the other side of the world?" he said.

"So is that a 'yes'" I asked.

"Do you want to?"

"I'm starting to wish that I wasn't the other side of the world, too" I said, suddenly aware of various sensations.

He was quiet.

"You'd better not be starting without me. I haven't done anything yet" I chided.

"But you're going to?" he asked.

"I might. For me though, not for you" I said playfully.

"Are you getting a heart shape or something?"

"I might just get rid of all of it."

"Come back now" he pleaded. "You can't do this to me, Sarah, not when you're not here for a couple of weeks. I'll explode."

I smiled, pleased that I could still excite him after more than three years. I thought about Charlie's other suggestion and thought that I would throw that in to add to the mystery.

"I might get my hair cut while I'm here too."

"You've met somebody haven't you" he said playfully. At least I hoped he was being playful.

"You know there's only you, love" I said in the sickliest, lovey-dovey voice I could muster. "Anyway, I need to go, this will be costing me a fortune."

"Wait, what about your hair?" he asked.

"What about it?" I asked.

"What are you going to do?"

"What would you like me to do? I countered, realising that he had never expressed much of an opinion before.

"I don't know, I'd need to think about it" he replied.

"At least you're honest."

"Cut, colour?" he asked.

"Maybe" I replied.

"Which?" he asked.

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters" he replied.

"Will you still love me whatever I do?" I asked.

"If you do the other thing, I'm not even sure that I'll notice what else you do." he said with a chuckle.

"Bastard" I replied playfully.

"So what will it be?" he probed.

"I don't know, probably nothing. It was just a thought, just something that somebody said" I replied.

"Wow, that must have been some conversation" he exclaimed.

"Oh yes, it certainly was. Look I have to go, love you" I said hurriedly.

He didn't get a chance to say anything else as I had pressed the button. Within seconds though it rang again.

"Katie?" he said, sounding somewhat desperate.

"Don't worry, Pete, you know I probably won't do anything, don't you?" I replied. It was true that he would know that I was all talk and too set in my ways to do anything that was too much of a departure from the usual.

"That's just it...I want you to do something."

"Something specific or just something?"

"I'm just sitting here thinking about you flashing me a vertical smile at the airport when I pick you up."
"A vertical smile..?" I queried, and then it dawned on me. "You pervert, somebody could be listening" I chided.

"I don't care. I've got to go for two weeks with that image in my head, wondering if you've done it or not."

"Whether I have or not, I'm not flashing you at the airport. Anyway, I have to go. Sweet dreams"

"Love you, Katie. Remember, smile!" he said and was gone. I certainly did smile.

With that, I got in the car and pulled out of the hotel onto the main road. I was still feeling really good about Pete being so excitd about the thought of me shaving my pussy. He'd never shown any particular interest in me doing anything down there. I liked to keep trim and perhaps took a bit more off at the sides when we went on holiday, but he had never remarked on it, never behaved any differently. But now I knew. I just wasn't sure whether to do it while I was travelling so that I would get used to it, or whether I should wait until I got home, so that it would be a thrill for both of us at the same time.

Anyway, I needed to concentrate on driving as the traffic was starting to get heavier. It would be so easy to just leave town and not tell Charlie what had happened, but I just couldn't do that to her. She was a caring person, trying to help people who were having a rough time. I saw the sign for the car park and turned in. It was a brief walk from the car park to the salon, a walk that didn't give me to time to get over the dread that I was feeling at telling Charlie that I had failed her.

The salon was quiet, so she saw me as soon as I walked past the glass front. By the time I had reached the door she was on her feet to greet me.

"well, hello" she said slowly. "What have you got for me?"

"Er, Charlie, I'm ever so sorry" I said, trying my best to not sound too flustered. "It's just that it is for such a serious cause and I didn't want to dampen the mood. I didn't get any sponsors, I'm so, so sorry." I said, sounding more pathetic by the minute. "You said that there were tee shirts..I'll buy a couple of those to take home."

"Whoa, slow down. Don't worry about it, not everyone would have come in to tell me, they would have just run. So, thank you for that. Look, why don't you have a seat and I'll get a couple of tee shirts for you. Ok?"

"Thanks for understanding Charlie, that's really good of you" I said. I sat down as she turned and headed to the other end of the salon. I could see her go into a store room and was glad to have a few moments to draw breath.

She came back clutching the promised tee shirts and just as she approached me she unfurled one with a fanfare to allow me to see the design.

"How much are they?" I asked.

"As much or as little as you want" she replied.

I reached into my bag for my purse and gave her my credit card.

"I'm sorry Charlie, I need to hold on to my cash for my trip. Can you take something on my card?"

"Sure, I'll just put it through the shop as a haircut."

We sorted out payment and I got ready to leave.

"You know, it will raise awareness more back home if you turn up to work looking different than if you just wear a tee shirt once in a while. That's what this is all about. How about it?"

I paused for a moment and then decided to go for it.

"I was actually thinking of having something done. You know you mentioned about shaving, down there..?" I said gingerly.

She nodded.

"It would be waxing rather than shaving - better finish" she said. I just sat there.

"We do that upstairs, if you want to follow me. Tends to generate too much of a stir if we do it in the main salon" she said with a smile.

At the top of the stairs she led me into a smaller salon, with a treatment table at the centre and various shelves dotted around the walls.

"If you want to slip your jeans off and get on the table we'll see what we can do" she said.

I was hesitant at first but then I thought 'to hell with it, I'll never see her again, so what difference does it make if she sees all I've got'. I sat on the edge of the table and lay down, taking a peek at my pride and joy for one last time for a while.

"You won't regret it" she said "and neither will your hubby" I assure you of that.

She worked quickly and efficiently, revealing more and more of me to the world as she peeled each strip. I tried my hardest not to scream, but the occasional yelp did slip out. I was proud of myself and could only imagine what Pete had said on the phone as my 'vertical smile' greeted the world.

She was finished sooner than I had hoped.

"You'll be a little tender for a while, but it's worth it" she said, determined that I become a convert. She moved away to one side to get rid of all of the stuff that she had used. As her back was turned I could not resist a little stroke of my mound with the back of my fingers. Tender or not, that was a wonderful feeling. Although not sure that I would want to endure a visit to a salon on a regular basis I knew that I would have to find a way to keep myself this way. My thoughts wandered to Pete.

"You can get dressed now if you want, but if you're not shy I would probably stay like that for a few minutes, just to let you cool off a bit" she said.

"I'm fine, honest" I said, reaching down to pick up my underwear. "I would hate for you to think that I'm a complete harlot!"

"Not at all" she smiled "It was me who gave you the idea, after all."

I was just doing up the zipper on my jeans when I felt her touch the side of my head.

"If you go and sit in one of the chairs downstairs, I'll be down in a sec and we'll cut that hair of yours" she said matter-of-factly.

"But I don't want it cut, it was just the, you know, the waxing" I replied.

"I'll be down in a minute, just make yorself comfy" she smiled.

"Charlie" I started, but then picked up my bag and headed for the stairs. She busied herself with tidying up after us as I went down the stairs.

I hadn't paid her for the treatment, but if I had had the spare cash I would probably just have left it on the counter and gone. As it was, I could only pay her with my credit card as she was well aware. I could hear her still moving around upstairs, but then her footsteps got closer and she was coming down the stairs. As she turned at the foot of the stairs she saw the row of empty chairs and then her eyes moved to me near to the door.

"The offer is there, you don't have to" she said.

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

"We can sit and look through some style books if you like. But don't you just feel like doing something for you when you're so far from home?"

"But I quite like my hair like this" I countered.

"Wouldn't you like to do something different when there's nobody to please but yourself?"

"I hadn't really thought about it" I replied.

"And had you thought about a Brazilian before I suggested it? We both know that you're rather pleased with yourself for doing that, don't we?" she smiled. "Anyway, I don't want to hold you back. Say 'Hi' to your man for me won't you!"

"Charlie, I think I need a cup of tea or something while I have a think."

"How's coffee, there's some in the percolator."

"Great, thanks" I replied.

She went towards the back of the salon and returned with two mugs of coffee. Rather than hand one to me, she placed it on the shelf in front of one of the styling chairs. She held on to hers and blew on it gently to cool it. She moved towards next the styling station and sat down. The implication was that I should do the same. I paused and then moved in front of the chair and sat, suddenly reminded by the tightening of the material in my jeans as to what had gone on upstairs. She was right, it was a little sensitive.

"So, what are we going to do?" she asked as she walked back towards me.

"I'm just drinking my coffee" I replied.

She was standing behind me now and running her hands slowly though my hair.

"I was thinking about colouring it for you, or do you want me to cut it for you?. What do you think?"

"You're determined to do something aren't you!" I exclaimed and then drained the last of my coffee.

"Change is good" she smiled.

"And if I don't do it now, I never will, is that what you're going to say?"

"Something like that" she agreed "but there's absolutely no pressure."

I don't know why, but that relaxed me. She wasn't trying to force me to do anything that I didn't want to do. I'd said to Pete that I might do something different with my hair and that was when I was on my own in the car park.

"OK" I said, as simple as that.

"So what do you want

"Whatever you want" I said quietly.

"How about a nice red?"

"I thought you were going to cut it?" I remarked.

"That's a decision for you to make, not me. You'll raise eyebrows if you walk back into the offfice as a redhead and that's good enough for me."

I started to feel a little bit silly. I had been steeling myself for a radical change and she was content with a change of colour. I thought about the phone call to Pete earlier on and smiled. Perhaps he would like a redhead rather than a blonde? Perhaps he was being truthful and really wouldn't notice for a while until he had fully explored a little further south.

Charlie fetched me another coffee while we waited for the colour to take and we chatted for a while. Then it was time for the moment of truth. She rinsed off the colouring solution and wrapped my head in a towel. Then it was back to the styling station for the grand unveiling.

"Oh my God" was the most original comment I could think of. My once dirty blonde hair was the most vibrant red that I could have imagined. It was almost pulsating. It was an amazing colour.

"So you like it?" Charlie asked.

"It's going to make me stand out in a crowd, that's for sure" I replied.

Charlie dried it for me and wished me luck as I left the salon. I walked back to my car feeling the best that I had for a long time. I just wish that Pete was there so that he could enjoy the new 'me'. I wanted to see his smile as he saw my 'vertical smile' for the first time. I would have to think about how to present him with the smoothest 'smile' that I could when I got home.

I got in the car and drove, replaying my time in the salon over and over in my head. I had come to Australia for a wedding and all I had memories of was a beauty salon. Weird!

The excitement of the new me wore off as the days passed, the brightness of my hair faded over the coming days and before I knew it I was on my way home. When I turned my phone on once I was back in the airport terminal it chimed to tell me that there was a message for me. I looked down at it. All it said was 'Smile'. I did, but not the sort that he wanted.

"Let's get you home" he said, once he'd released his hold of me.

"How about we take our time, go round the shops a bit" I said, teasingly.

"The way I'm feeling, we may have to stop by the side of the road. I don't think I can last" he said.

"I think I've got a headache coming on" I said with a big smile.

"I don't think so" he replied. Then he stopped walking for a second and looked at me.

"I thought you were going to cut your hair" he said with a puzzled look on his face. He reached up and stroked my red locks, but didn't comment on the colour.

"Did you want me to?" I asked, starting to walk again.

"I don't know, I'd been trying to get used to the idea, without knowing what it was that I was trying to get used to."

I don't think that there's any need to tell you what happened when we got home. Pete may have claimed to not know what he liked, but when he was presented with it, he liked it, I can assure you of that.

It was only a week before Pete started to complain that I needed to do something about my re-growing bush. I had been thinking along the same lines, but thought that I would leave it for a while to see whether he said anything.

I made an appointment on my day off so that I could surprise him that evening. After I had come back he rang me about something so trivial that it wasn't worth the cost of the call, but while I had been at the salon I thought about our phone call in Australia and how that had turned us both on. I just couldn't resist.

"How would a less hairy me turn you on?" I asked, echoing the question that I had asked him from all those miles away.

There was silence at first.

"I've got a meeting this afternoon. I can't come home" he sighed.

"Who says I've done anything?" I teased.

"You have, I know you have" he said softly.

"What is it that you think I've done?"

"Cut your hair" he replied.

"And where would that be?"

"You've got the smile back" he said.

"Maybe" I replied.

"And have you cut your hair?" he asked.

"Would you like that?" I asked, trying not to sound puzzled that he glossed over my freshly denuded mound so easily.

"Yes" he replied quietly.

"What do you want me to have done?"

"surprise me."

"So you've had enough of the redhead then have you?"

"I think it's time for a new woman, don't you think?" he said.

"Is that right? And what is wrong with the current one, may I ask?"

"Nothing" he replied quickly.

"And how about if I want a new man?" I asked.

"Just tell me what this new man should be like" he said.

"So eager to please. You must be expecting something pretty special."

"Katie, look I've got to go, before I disgrace myself in the office" he said, breaking the spell.

"Shame. Never mind, boring old redhead will be waiting for you when you get home. Love you" I said.

"Katie, that's not what I meant" he protested.

"See you later" I said and put the phone down.

I sat back in the chair briefly, knowing that I was going to have to go back into town. I leant forward and picked up my car keys and within a couple of minutes I was on my way. I should have thought about getting my hair cut when I was out this morning, but the place where I got waxed was purely for beauty treatments rather than hair. Anyway, it wasn't as if I had anything else planned and being out of the house would stop me starting the party early!

I thought it best to head for the High Street as that was where most of the salons were concentrated. I wandered along the street peering in to see how busy they were. It took about five minutes before I decided that the High Street wasn't going to be the best place for a 'drop-in'. They all seemed too busy. Perhaps they did have somebody lurking out the back just waiting for a client, but I didn't really want to take the chance. I turned left down Market Lane, knowing that there was a salon down there.

Even before I reached it, I could see that there were plenty of empty chairs. There were a couple of staff standing chatting at reception and I decided that this was probably as good as it was going to get.

"Hi" the first woman said as I walked through the door. "What can I do for you?" she asked.

"HI, I was wondering if you could fit me in for a cut" I said.

"Sure, come on through" she replied, smiling.

As easy as that. Although I had never been to this salon before I quite liked the atmosphere. The stylist was no spring chicken, but she was attractive and well presented. As I walked I saw that the only other client was a guy who was being 'done' by a younger stylist. His hair was quite short already, but the stylist was running clippers up the side of his head, leaving him with hardly anything as she went.

"Dramatic to watch, isn't it?" I heard a voice say, bringing me back from my momentary fixation.

"Certainly is, must be great to just do that and be damned" I said.

She smiled. "Right, if you just take a seat here, we'll see what we're going to do."

I sat down, but made sure that I had one last look at the action across the way before I did.

"I'm Cheryl, by the way" she said as she swirled a gown over me.

"Katie" I replied.

"OK then, Katie, what are we going to do for you today?"

"You could do that, if you want" I said, gesturing over to the other stylist's station.

"And why would you want to do that?" she asked with a quizzical look on her face.

"I was in Australia not so long ago and they have this charity thing where people colour their hair or shave their heads to raise money for cancer research. I coloured mine, but I suppose it set me thinking. Now seeing him just brought this image back."

"So what were you intending to do, before you saw him?"

"I don't know, I suppose I was open to suggestions. I wanted to surprise my husband." I replied.

"How much of a surprise do you want to give him?" she asked.

I turned round and looked directly at the man. The stylist was just about finished. It looked really good on him, but then he wouldn't raise eyebrows when he walked out. He hadn't got to go home to a horny husband. A horny husband who promted this trip into town by saying that he wanted me to cut my hair....

"Well, I told to him about the salon in Australia and he was really interested. He asked me to talk about getting my hair coloured and asked why I hadn't got it cut. The more I talked, the more interested he got, if you know what I mean!" I said, wondering if I had said a litle too much.

"And what seemed to 'interest' him more, cutting or colouring?"

"Cutting, definitely. I think that you could say that his interest was definitely 'pricked' by the thought of me cutting my hair."

"But does he actually think that you would cut it?"

"I don't know. But I think that I have teased him enough. It's time to put up or shut up really."

"And what about you - aren't you a bit worried about what you'll look like with short hair?"

"I think I'm more excited than worried really."

She smiled. "OK, how about we make a start?"

I nodded.

She combed my hair through gently and placed her hands on my shoulders when she had satisfied herself that there were no tangles. She looked at me in the mirror and tilted her head to one side.

"Moment of truth" she said as she reached forward for her scissors. She picked up a strand of my hair and placed the scissors about five inches from my scalp. She moved them up slowly and then back down, looking at me in the mirror to give her an indication of where to cut.

"It's up to you" I said, with a smile, wondering why I was being so blase about the whole thing. We looked at each other in the mirror for a second and then the scissors closed. She had cut about two inches from the tress that she was holding, barely a decent trim. She could clearly sense my disappointment.

"We can go straight for the clippers if you really want" she said.

I'm not sure what she was expecting, whether she thought that I would go for it or not when actually put on the spot.

"I think you may as well" I said, astounding myself with how matter of fact I managed to sound. I was as calm as if I was ordering something from the deli counter rather than giving a hairdresser the ok to use clippers on me.

"Okay" she said slowly "how serious are you about this?"

"Never been more serious" I replied with a wry smile.

"Do you want me to start with the biggest guard?"

"What's the difference?" I asked, hoping that she would forgive my ignorance.

"You can control how short they cut depending on which guard you use" she replied.

"Do you have to use a guard?" I asked.

"You don't have to..." she replied.

"Let's not" I said, cutting her off before she could say anything else.

"You're sure? You know what that will do?" she asked.

"There's one way to find out" I replied.

I could see her take the guard off and place it to one side. She blew on the blades quickly and then turned the clippers on.

She moved them towards the nape of my neck, but then moved them away and placed them at my forehead.

"Feeling wreckless?" she asked.

"I am if you are" I said, closing my eyes.

I barely felt the clippers glide backwards, but I knew from the sound that they were no longer where they had started. The sound moved again and again. I was conscious of the intermittent fall of strands of my hair and by the time I opened my eyes again, the crown of my head was covered only by the slightest trace of stubble. I smiled.

"I see there's no point asking you if you're sorry" Cheryl said.

"If I hadn't done it I would have always wondered what it felt like. Now I know." I replied.

"And what does it feel like, if you don't mind me asking?"

"That would be telling. You'll have to try it for yourself" I replied a little mischeviously.

"I'm not sure how that would go down at home" she replied.

"You should ask him, you never know. I certainly had no idea before I went to Australia that my boyfriend would be so interested in me doing something with my hair."

"By 'interested' you mean..."

"Certainly do, he got very 'interested' last time, so who knows what he'll be like this time."

"I'd better get in the chair now" she said, with a smile.

She was almost finished and although I enjoyed chatting to her, I think that I would have liked just to have sat there and closed my eyes while she worked. Then the clippers fell silent. Cheryl ran her hand over my scalp to check for any bits that she had missed. I was just thinking that she was doing it a little more slowly than she could have when she interrupted my musings.

"Perhaps I will have to have a little word when the time is right" she said.

"Tell him how great it feels and if he doesn't like it, it will grow back really quickly. It's not as if it's a tatoo, is it?" I said.

"That's one way of looking at it" she replied.

"Now, are we leaving it like this or would you like me to finish it for you?" she asked.

"By 'finish', you mean..?"

"Smooth" she replied.

"You are getting into this, aren't you?" I said.

She smiled. "It's a bit different from what I usually do".

I thought for a moment.

"How about I let you finish me, on the condition that you have yours done."

"Whoa, hang on a minute there" Cheryl said, stopping in her tracks. "We're deciding what to do for you, not for me" she said.

"I'm sorry, Cheryl, I didn't mean..."

"No need to apologise, but I need to focus on what we're doing for you" she replied.

"I've offended you though, haven't I?" I asked.

"No, you haven't, but I can't decide what to do for a client based on whether or not I am prepared to do something to myself." she explained.

"You're right, Cheryl, just do what you think is best" I said meekily.

She walked away. She was silent as she came back, but I could see that she was carrying a can of shaving foam. She squirted some into the palm of her hand and smeared it over my scalp. I decided to say nothing until she decided to thaw the air a little. It was a shame as I had enjoyed the experience up until then. Now I just felt stupid. Not because I was having my head shaved, but because I had spoiled the mood by allowing myself to get carried away.

We didn't speak for the several minutes it took for her to shave my head. The longer the silence went on, the worse I felt.

"There you go" she said, undoing the gown at the back.

I stood up and let her slip the gown off me. She brushed my collar to get rid of any bits that had snuck in and then she was done.

We started to walk towards the counter.

I reached into my purse for the cash to pay her and didn't notice that she had brought a large notebook from under the counter.

"How about the same time next week?" she said.

I looked at her, surprised to hear her voice again.

"You'll need it shaved again, unless you're going to do it yourself" she said.

"Yeh, great" I said, still surprised. "I thought I was going to have to find somewhere else to do it" I said, a little hesitantly.

"I wasn't giving you the silent treatment, I was thinking" she said, turning the book so that I could read it.

"That's fine" I said, "2:30's fine".

Her finger moved to the next time slot. There was her name.

"That will give me a week to sound him out" she said, her smile returning.

"I'm saying nothing" I replied with a smile of my own.

"See you next week" she said.

I raised my hand in a small wave and turned towards the door, relieved that I had not ruined the best thing that I had done in a while.

It's best that I don't dwell on what happened when Pete got home that evening. He certinly showed his appreciation more than once.

I went for my appointment the following week. I still hadn't decided whether I was going to keep my head shaved or to grow it out a little, but for the sake of setting back my progress by a week I went back to the salon for my 2:30.

Cheryl greeted me warmly, even giving me a little welcome hug before leading me to the styling station. I was itching to ask her what had gone on, but decided to let events take their course. She worked in silence, a little more quickly than I would have liked, but as long as she didn't cut me I didn't mind too much.

As she was towelling off the last traces of shaving foam she finally spoke.

"He said 'No'" she said quietly.

"As simple as that?" I said.

"Not quite, but I think that he might come round given time" she replied.

"I'm sorry, you would have looked fabulous" I said.

"I think I probably would. Perhaps I'll get him to pop in next time you're due for a clean up" she said, looking pleased with herself.

"You think that's the only pursuasion he'll need?"

"Perhaps not, but who knows? Anyway, that's you back in the land of the bald and beautiful."

"Thank you" I said.

I looked in the mirror. The effect was the same as last time. Sleek, beautiful, but no longer strange. At the counter I paid Cheryl, but declined her offer of an appointment for a week's time. I decided that I would wait a little longer before shaving again. I wasn't even sure that I would go back to her if I did decide to do it again, but you never know. I'd see what Pete wanted, I thought with a smile and carried on walking.

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