Member-only story
One of Those Persons Who Should Never Die
Fiona. My mother loved Fiona because she was the only hairdresser who could dye her hair the right colour.
Every time my mother went for a blow-dry, or a cut and colour, she was gone for half a day. She’d drive to the salon when the sun was up and got out at night with a stench of smoke on her clothes. No one in my family ever had a puff, but this was when you could have a cigarette and give a haircut at the same time.
When she came back, my mother’d stand in front of the mirror in the hall and me there, sitting on a step looking at her. She’d dig a hand into the top of her hair checking if those roots were gone. She looked beautiful. For days, she’d smell of hair products and blowdryer fired on for too long.
We grew up in this town by the sea. Where everyone complains about how cold it is with 15 degrees outside. People start going to the beach in April. In the summer, it gets so hot everyone always goes for a nap after lunch. Except for my mother. She’s the youngest of six children, with five older brothers. There was always something to help with around the house. Now, they all stay in touch with the usual phone call on Christmas making sure no one is dying or checking if anyone got married.
My mother though, she had one more brother no birth certificate or council register knows about. His…