,’ she laughed. ‘I thought you were never going to ask. Get your hair washed, I’ll be back.’
Layla washed her hair and then Precious returned with a bag-load of stuff and sat her down in front of the mirror. She started pulling a broad-toothed comb through Layla’s dark locks, then coating it in a strong-smelling solution.
‘What’s that?’ asked Layla suspiciously.
‘Setting lotion,’ said Precious, and then she carefully wound Layla’s hair on to huge rollers, put a plastic hood over her head, and told her to sit there and shut up until it was dry, and here was a magazine to pass the time.
‘Jesus, is this going to take long?’ complained Layla.
‘You heard the old phrase about suffering to be beautiful?’ said Precious with her sweet, patient smile. She settled on Layla’s bed, and opened her textbooks. ‘Read your magazine.’
Layla did as she was told. An hour passed, then Precious set her pen aside, took the curlers out, brushed Layla’s hair through, back-combed the top, smoothed it down, doused her in hair spray.
‘Don’t look yet,’ said Precious, teasing away with her comb.
‘Gawd,’ said Layla, choking.
‘Patience.’ Precious made a final adjustment, then turned Layla round to face the mirror.
Layla could only stare. A stranger was staring back at her. Oh, it was her face, but surrounding that face was a big puffy cloud of dark, lustrous hair. Rather like her mother’s. Only it wasn’t her mother’s. It was hers.
‘Holy shit,’ said Layla breathlessly. ‘Well, that’s…’ She stammered to a halt, unable to think of a word to describe it.
‘Nice, yeah?’ Precious turned and shouted: ‘China! Destiny!’
China and Destiny crowded into the doorway of Layla’s room. Layla noted that Destiny had a black eye that she had tried – not very successfully – to cover with make-up. Marital relations were still strained.
‘What do you think?’ asked Precious.
‘Fabulous,’ said Destiny. ‘Layla, you look amazing.’
‘Fab-los,’ said China, nodding. ‘But no…’ China made painting motions in front of her perfect little face.
‘No make-up,’ said Precious. ‘You’re right. Spoils the effect, no?’
‘I don’t like make-up,’ said Layla. They had a point, though: her hair now looked as if it belonged on some other woman, someone glamorous, exotic. Not her, plain old Layla Carter. ‘Lipstick, I hate that. Tried it once. Too jammy.’
‘We can kit you out with a matt one,’ said Precious.
Layla stood up, bewildered, overwhelmed. Peered at the stranger in the mirror again.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t think so…’
Ellie appeared in the doorway behind Destiny and China.