‘Hold the door,’ Amy shouts, rushing towards me while balancing four paper cups in a cardboard tray. Standing back, I watch her go through in front of me. Amy’s hair is pink today. Last week it was orange. Hail the employee discounts.

‘Morning, all,’ I say, walking into the buzz. The shop doors aren’t open to the public yet and already I feel more alive.

‘Morning, Sal.’ Megan’s head appears up from behind the reception desk as she plonks a big book on the counter top. Her eyes don’t waste time looking at me. As my boss, Megan is too busy locating all the bits and pieces she needs to efficiently navigate the day ahead.

‘Hi, Meg.’ I walk towards the staffroom to the sound of Jason Mraz. Which is another thing I like about this place, keeping up to date with what’s going on in the world of music. Peppa Pig has no pull here.

The smell of Coco Chanel welcomes me when I push the staffroom door open. Which can mean only one thing, Marie is here.

Leaning forward, she shakes her head. Black glossy hair floats like great wings from side to side. A wild bird set free. But not for long. Marie captures the hair into her grip and wraps it tightly into a bun.

‘Hi, Sally, love the highlights,’ she mumbles, balancing a hair clip between her teeth. My fingers push at the fresh blonde streaks Sienna did for me yesterday, luminous above my flushing skin. Receiving a compliment from anyone other than Tom makes me blush. I always shy away from kind words. It took years before I said ‘thank you’ instead of coming up with some ridiculous explanation for having got something right.

‘Thanks.’

‘I guess you heard?’

‘Heard what?’ And here we go. The news. There’s always some bit of news.

‘About Sienna. She left Alan.’

‘What? She did not.’

‘She did.’

Sienna had been living with her partner for over ten years. She has two children and was, allegedly, for the past two years, enjoying a second relationship with Conor, a younger guy who supplies hair colour to the premises on a twice-weekly basis. It took a while for the rest of us to figure out hair colour was not the only thing he supplied on a twice-weekly basis.

‘But…’ I’m totally shocked hearing Marie relay the story… and yet a part of me is not. Sienna does what Sienna wants to do. Always has and I suppose always will.

My mind rambles to my default mode. The victims. The poor children and Alan her partner. I could never do anything to hurt Tom or my kids. I’ve seen first hand the devastation it can cause.