I was going to phone her but I decided against it. I had a shower, put on some of my more expensive aftershave, a clean pair of black jeans, a matching black polo shirt and a black leather jacket and headed out the door. It was already on the hot side of warm outside. Another couple of hours and it'd be baking. I looked up at the blue sky and sighed. Maybe I should go back in and dump the leather jacket, but I couldn't be bothered. Besides, I knew I looked good in it.
Half an hour later I was standing outside Cara's hair-dressing shop. It was mid-morning and already the place was full. I could see a number of women having their hair cut or braided or corn-rowed or whatever it is women do in these places. Three women and a man stood above the various clients, chatting and smiling. The women hairdressers were Crosses, the male hairdresser was a nought – which surprised me no end. I watched through the window as they all got on with it.
And there was Cara, smiling via a wall mirror at one of her customers. A nought customer who was having her blonde hair braided. Cara must've said something hilarious because the woman creased up laughing. I debated whether or not to go in. But I needed money. And possibly a place to stay. And Cara could give me both. I walked into the shop.
'Can I help you, sir?' The woman on the reception desk pounced before I'd even closed the door.
'I'm here to see Cara,' I said.
'D'you have an appointment?'
'No, I don't.'
'I'm afraid we're really busy today.' The receptionist rushed into her apology. 'She won't be able to—'
'It's OK. This is my friend Steve.' Cara was already coming over to me, a big smile on her face. When she smiled it was like she lit up from within. She didn't just turn up her lips like some women I knew, she lifted her head and smiled with her eyes and her cheeks and her lips. And why shouldn't she? She was a Cross who had it easy. 'How are you?'
'Fine,' I replied. 'I hope you don't mind me dropping in.'
'No, of course not. I'm glad to see you,' said Cara.
And she really did look like she meant it. I didn't understand her at all. We were being bombarded by curious glances. I took a step forward, as well as a deep breath, before I could say the next thing. It didn't come easily asking a dagger for anything, and certainly not a date.
'I managed to get hold of two tickets for Destruction, that Daley Mercer film you wanted to see. I just wondered if you wanted to come with me?'
'When?'
'Tonight.'
'Oh, I'd love to, but we have late-night closing tonight,' said Cara regretfully. 'What time does the film start?'
I looked around. We were the floor show. All eyes were trained on us. I moved in closer to Cara so no one else would hear what I was saying. This was embarrassing enough as it was.
'Not until eight-fifteen.'
'I don't finish till after nine,' Cara said unhappily. 'I have to lock up after everyone else has gone.'
'Never mind. It was just an idea,' I said.
So much for that then. Maybe this wasn't going to be as easy as I'd first thought.
'Tell you what, why don't I cook a late dinner for us back at my place to make up for it?' said Cara. 'I have to warn you though, I'm not a very good cook.'
'I am,' I said truthfully. 'If you provide the ingredients, I'll do the cooking.'
'It's a deal.' Cara grinned enthusiastically. 'D'you want to meet me at my house?'
'No. I'll come here at nine,' I decided. 'Then I'll walk you home.'
'Thanks, Steve. I'll see you later then. And I'm sorry about the film.'
'Don't worry about it,' I said. 'See you later.'
And I headed out the door. I made sure to turn back and give her one last wave though. Girls like that sort of thing. How easy was this? Stupid, stupid cow. She called me her friend, but her saying it didn't make it so. She didn't know me from a bar of soap and already I was being invited back to her house. Tonight, she'd be the last one left in the shop to lock up. It'd be just me and her. I was looking forward to it. I was going to be teacher.
And Cara was going to learn that it really didn't pay to be quite so trusting.
