Jem shut her eyes as strands of hair cascaded in front of them. “You would, without a doubt. You’re both as daft as each other.”

“I take no offence. Now, just keep your eyes closed for ten while I perm what’s left of your fringe.”

Jem laughed. “You wouldn’t do that to me.”

“No, I wouldn’t, but keep them closed anyway. I do like a big reveal.”

The big reveal came mere moments before curiosity could bust a hole in Jem’s gut. She heard Rosie put the scissors down and then a triumphant “ta-da!” as Rosie clasped her shoulders. Braced for impact, she squinted through one eye to get the measure of things. She knew Rosie would see through a lie, but she planned to moderate her reaction if she hated the result.

“Blimey.” Abandoning any attempt at subterfuge, she gaped at her reflection. Rosie hadn’t been kidding when she’d said “bold.” She had cut Jem’s hair shorter than it had ever been, gathering it in close at the back and sweeping it over at the fringe. It was classy yet low maintenance, and it made Jem burst into tears.

“Shit!” Rosie gave her a handful of tissues from a nearby box. “It’ll grow back, I promise. It won’t take long, and you can wear a hat or something. Maybe a snood. I’ll knit you a snood.”

Jem blew her nose. “I love it.”

“Bleedin’ Nora, you almost gave me a heart attack. Do you really like it?”

“I do. It’s ace. It looks dead swanky.”

“Well, thank fuck for that.” Rosie ruffled Jem’s fringe, feathering it with her fingertips. “Bit of styling gel through here in a morning, Ms. Pardon, and you’ll be fabulous all day.”

Jem caught Rosie’s hand and pressed a quick kiss to the back of it. “Thank you. I’m not sure a box of toffee really covers this.”

Blushing flame red, Rosie began to brush the hair from Jem’s shoulders. “It’s been a pleasure,” she said quietly. “You don’t owe me a thing.”

Chapter Ten

“Nice easy one to start the morning,” Jem’s dispatcher had said. He was new to the RRV desk and at the end of his night shift, so she couldn’t fault his optimism. “Fifty-eight-year-old male, back pain. Clammy and short of breath, but aren’t they all?”

They generally were, because back pain hurt like the devil, but on this occasion Jem’s swift assessment suggested her patient’s symptoms were being caused by an aneurysm leaking blood into his abdomen. His face was the colour of cold porridge, his blood pressure was in his boots, and his heart was racing. If the aneurysm ruptured, it would kill him within minutes.