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The problem was, Carts’ hair had two quite unique—and seemingly opposing—qualities.It could fly every which way and form tangles simultaneously.Carts wouldn’t be surprised if there was a mathematical equation for it.His hair had been a nightmare since he was a kid; the fights with his mum over combing it, the inevitable trip to Bob the barber for a number 2 cut.The humiliating teasing at school the next day.
Finally, at the age of seventeen, he’d found that the only way to avoid looking like the Scarecrow fromThe Wizard of Ozwas to keep the hair almost touching his collar and flopping over his eyes.
Ergo, haircuts, like new clothes, were something he avoided until he couldn’t see out from under his fringe.But now… Holy hell!How did you gaze lovingly into a woman’s eyes over a candlelit dinner when she couldn’t even see your freakin’ eyes?
Maybe if Polly answered his messages, he’d go over to her place and get her to trim a teeny bit off the front.
He sucked up the last of his Green Goddess through the bamboo straw, searched around until he found a recycling bin and dumped the eco-friendly cup into it.
His phone rang.
Tugging it out of his pocket he promptly dropped it.
Shite.
Picking it up, he turned it over and stared in horror at the cracks that zigzagged across the screen.The case was supposed to be the kind you could drop in water, lob a grenade at, send to Mars and back and it would still remain intact.
And to top it all off, it wasn’t even Polly calling, he realised.It was Mum.
Miraculously, despite the ominous cracks, his phone still worked.
“Carter.”
“Yes Mum.”He could hear the piano in the background.
“I’ll be quick because I’m in the middle of teaching.”His mum’s voice sounded strained above a shocking rendition of “Für Elise”.“Can you come over and talk some sense into your sister?”
“What’s happened?”
Things had been a bit pear-shaped with his kid sister Avery lately.He got it.She was sixteen.Angst was obligatory.
His mum paused.Another jangling note made Carts wince.“She—she’s threatening to give up the flute.”
Give up the flute!Carts felt his mouth slacken.Avery made the flute sound like angels in flight.Her performance of Debussy’s “L’apres midi d’un Faune” had brought the whole audience to tears.“What the fu—ddle.”Niftily he changed the word.Mum hated him swearing.It was a bad habit he’d got off his mates Aaron and Dan at school and still not grown out of.
Mum let out a big huff.“I’m beside myself—No, no, Bethany, too muchfortissimo.Morepianissimo, please—Have you finished work?Could you pop over now?”
“I suppose so.”He’d been thinking of going and buying a small gift for Judith to give her tomorrow night after their meal out.He drew his shoulders back and pulled his lower lip between his teeth.Except… Wasn’t that his usual pattern?Shower a woman with gifts and watch the sheen of interest seep out of her eyes.
Stop being so keen, Polly had told him a while back.Play it cool.A little uncertainty keeps a woman interested, she’d said.Polly, after all, was an expert on the mysteries of the female psyche.
He twisted the bag tightly in his fist.“Sure, yep.I’ll come and talk some sense into her.”
“Oh you are a lovely boy.Thank you.”Mum’s voice flooded with relief.“Where would I be without you, Carter?”
As he rung off, Carts shook his head at his phone screen.He’d have to get it repaired in his lunch break tomorrow.
No chance of a haircut now.
And still no reply from Polly.Not even a thumbs-up emoji.
Where the fuck-fuddle was she?
Up the otherend of the mall, Judith was busily piling dresses over her arm.
This one could look cute.It had a nicely nipped in waist.
And the red one… could she wear this shade of red or was it too close to orange for her skin tone?
