When the lotion is fully applied, my client sits for twenty minutes worrying if she’s made the right decision, before rinsing, while I go to the staffroom. Thankfully it’s empty, so I take out my phone and ring Tom but he doesn’t answer.

Back outside I check my client list for the remainder of the day. My phone beeps. It’s Tom again.

You’re not going to believe it?

I lean against the wall and take a deep breath. For a moment I consider not answering, pretending I never received it. Pretending there’s no more bad news in store for me but I know I’m only delaying whatever it is he has to say. Deep breaths. I head for the staffroom which is empty and dial Tom’s number. Opening the door slightly, I check to make sure no one is on their way in here. The coast is clear, everyone is busy.

‘I can’t tell you over the phone, Sal, can you not come home?’

‘No, Tom, I can’t, you know Friday is mad busy, I’m not leaving. Just tell me, is it bad?’

‘I don’t know about bad but it’s definitely mad. The woman in custody is denying murdering Claire McCarthy, which is to be expected…’

He’s talking in a low voice, so I presume Kenny is standing somewhere close by. ‘What I wasn’t expecting, and what the cops weren’t expecting, was that she admitted to lurking around our house.’

‘Did she say why?’

‘Yes, and this is the weird bit. She says she was looking for Kenny.’

I’m confused now, what is Tom talking about?

‘What does she mean? Why would she be looking for Kenny?’

The door of the staffroom opens. Megan sticks her head in. ‘Your beeper’s going off, Sal.’

I nod at her and say I’m on my way but my legs don’t want to move, they’re stuck to the spot.

‘I have to go, Tom… I’ll ring you back when I get a chance.’

What the hell is going on? Back out on the floor I try to concentrate but my mind is spinning. Why was the woman looking for Kenny?

It takes me forever to finish the blow-dry, my mind racing, my concentration lost to the turmoil in my head. Megan walks over to me when I hand my client her coat and thank her for the tip.

‘If you want you can take your ten minutes now, Sal,’ she says, even though my next client is already at the basin. Megan must have noticed my body screaming with anxiety. I hope she wasn’t listening at the door when I was talking to Tom.

Leaving the salon, I walk down the busy street, phone to my ear, waiting for Tom to answer, ignoring the crowds pushing past.

‘Sal, are you okay?’

‘Yes, yes. What is going on?’