Writing for Fun
August 2016
A Matter Of Life And Death - Jeanette Rothwell
'Oh Charles, it's a matter of life and death if I don't get my hair and nails done before we go on holiday, I shall never enjoy it.'
Charles gave a sign of despair. 'Well what's stopping you getting an appointment with your pet hairdresser?'
'I've just found out that she is on holiday,' wailed Deidre.
'Surely somebody else can do your hair and nails,' stated the very exasperated Charles.
'Oh, not like she can do my hair.'
This discussion/argument went on for some time, culminating in Charles throwing up his hands in despair and seeking refuge in his allotment.
Deidre meanwhile rang her best friend, Jane, and poured out her woes into her sympathetic ears.
'Why don't you try the salon in the High Street? I have often been there and they are quite good. I can give you their number,' suggested Jane.
Deidre agreed to give them a try and promptly telephoned for an appointment.
The following day she found the salon and arrived on time, hoping the hairdresser wouldn't spoil her previously well cut hair and elegant nails.
She need not have worried. The young man who styled her hair and then passed her on to the nail technician were both efficient and proficient.
When she arrived home, coiffured and smiling, Charles emerged from his garden, muddy and content, he duly admired the hair and nails (They didn't look any different to him) and asked if she was likely to live long enough for them to go on holiday.
Deidre sniffed at his sarcasm.
'You simply don't understand these things,' she said. 'I would have been miserable on holiday if I didn't feel attractive and groomed.'
'Humph,' snorted Charles. 'I suppose if you haven't been to the hairdressers, you would have refused to die, as you were threatening yesterday?'
'Oh I hope I shall be looking my best when that day comes.'
'It nearly came sooner than you planned. I almost cancelled the holiday,' he stated.
'Oh Charles, you do exaggerate,' laughed Deidre.
'Don't you be so sure,' he grumbled as he went back to his garden, muttering, 'One of these days I'll take her at her word and issue a notice in the local paper – Deidre died in an unkempt state cos her hairdresser was on holiday and her husband needed respite care!'