PLAYING WITH SCISSORS

-x-

It was the last day of August. In spite of the gently yellowing leaves on the trees and ripening blackberries in the gorse bushes that lined the canal, the weather had decided to make one last ditched stab at High Summer. The bright sun beat down through a cloudless sky, cruelly punishing those in the office who had been hasty enough to try going to work in their new Autumn outfits. Sam grumbled in her angora sweater, blowing down her polo neck as she stomped past.

Sarah wiped her sticky fringe to one side. 'Hot,' she mumbled.

Sam only had the energy to grunt in reply, fanning herself with a page plan.

Sarah grunted back, pulling her long hair away from the back of her neck.

'Still,' Sam added, 'only two weeks to go now 'til Art School.' She smiled a little to herself. 'Freedom, respect… wall to wall College Boys…'

Sarah smiled back, politely.

Sam's eyes fell back on her. 'Oh. Sorry, Sarah.'

'Sorry?' Sarah tried wafting some air at her neck. 'What for?'

'Well…' Sam toyed with one of Sarah's pencil tops. 'I'm getting out, going to College, moving forward, Kenny's talking about a great escape to Australia, Hell, even Spike got away… and you got stuck in the Black Widow's web.'

'I'm not caught in any web!' Sarah exclaimed. 'I can leave any time I want!'

'Of course you can.'

'I just so happen to rather like it here, thank you, Sam.'

'Of course you do.'

Sarah narrowed her eyes. 'Do you really think I'm that spineless, Sam?'

'Hmm?' Sam asked, innocently.

'Do you really think I'm the sort of pathetic doormat that would put her whole life on hold simply on the whim of one of her friends?'

Sam placed her hand on her breastbone, sweetly. 'I didn't say anything, Sarah. I just think it's a bit odd that, after all that talk about going, you're staying here for another year.' The Graphics Senior paused. 'Do you want me to talk to her…?'

'No! Christ, no.' Sarah scowled. 'I'm not that ineffectual.'

'I'm not calling you ineffectual, I just think you might have some assertiveness problems that…'

'I do not have assertiveness problems!' Sarah brandished her Curly Wurly in what she hoped was a menacing fashion. 'I've got assertiveness coming out of my armpits! Now will you please just leave me alone… please. Thank you. Please.'

She bit her lip. Sam just shrugged and sauntered off, tugging at her sweater yet again.

'Sorry,' added Sarah.

But Sam was already gone.

-x-

In her furze of heat and irritation, nothing was able to distract Sarah from her desk again until something in a suit sauntered by.

Tiddler's voice greeted the be-suited stranger with a cheery 'Hello, Haircut!'

'Yeah,' replied the stranger in a familiar voice, 'had me ears lowered.'

Sarah did a double take. It was Colin!

'Colin?' she said with an air of disbelief, 'you're wearing a suit.'

Colin nodded. 'I know.'

'It's nice,' added Kenny from his desk.

Opposite him, Lynda briefly glanced up. 'It's brown.'

'Brown can be nice,' replied Kenny, a little hurt.

'No it can't,' Lynda told her work.

'What are you doing in a suit?' Sarah asked. 'What happened to your trainers?'

'Burned 'em.'

'What?'

'Trainers, Sarah… shorts and T Shirts, long hair – that's for schoolboys, Kid, and I for one have split that crazy scene well and proper.'

'But…' Sarah began.

'Colin Mathews the schoolboy is dead now. Dee-Ee-Dee-Dee Dead. Feast your eyes on Colin Mathews the businessman. He's got the knowledge, he's got the experience, but most importantly, he's got a sharp new suit and a success flavoured haircut.'

'But…'

'He's a shark. He's a tiger. He's an eagle. He'll swoop on your nest and eat your hatchlings…'

'But why burn your trainers?' Sarah managed. 'I offered you a tenner for them last month. They're nice and worn and we're both a size 6.'

'Shush!'

Tiddler grinned. 'Are your feet really that small, Colin?'

'Forget the feet, Tidge,' Colin demanded. 'The feet are in the past. Concentrate on the haircut, now.'

Lynda looked up again. 'Who did it, the council?'

'Ignore her,' added Kenny, 'she's still grumpy because of You Know Who going back to You Know Where.'

Lynda rolled her eyes. 'Whatever can you be talking about, Kenny? It's simply impossible to decipher your fiendish code.' She turned her attention to Colin. 'Whoever did it missed a spot.'

Colin furrowed his brow. 'Really?'

'At the back,' continued Lynda, 'just centre of your left ear.'

Colin grabbed the patch of untended hair. 'Damn.'

'You pay peanuts…' Lynda shrugged.

Colin began looking around himself, manically. 'Of course,' he muttered, 'the phone went, and then dinner was ready… I completely forgot about that last little bit.'

'You forgot?' Sarah echoed. 'Don't tell me you cut it yourself?'

'Course I cut it myself. Has anyone got a mirror?'

Sarah narrowed her eyes. 'What is it you're trying to pull this time?'

'What?' Colin asked her, innocently. He accepted a pocket mirror from Sonia with a slight grunt of gratitude.

'You are not a hairdresser,' Lynda tutted. 'You don't have the patience to cut hair, especially your own…'

Ignoring Lynda, Colin grabbed a pair of scissors from a nearby desk, turned himself with his back to the small wall mirror, flipped open the pocket mirror in front of him and, after gazing at his reflection critically for a moment, cut the offending overgrown tufts of hair from the back of his head with three quick snips.

Sarah opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. She could see that, at her desk, Lynda was doing the same.

'Well, anyone can do that!' Lynda exclaimed after a moment. 'You just did that to try to prove something. Whatever it is, we're not buying, so stop wasting everyone's time!'

Colin shrugged. 'Just don't trust Barbers, that's all. They charge you an arm and a leg just to run a pair of scissors over your head…' Colin trailed off a little. You could practically hear the clank of his mental gears switching into Hustler Mode at the vaguest mention of money. 'Although,' he added with a smile, 'I'd be happy to charge a very special Friends Rate if any of you Cool Cats were looking for a Fresh and Happening new look…'

'How much is this "Special Rate"?' Tiddler giggled. 'A hundred or a hundred and fifty percent of your usual?'

'I'll have you know I can do you an excellent deal. I'm happy to undercut…'

'You're not going to undercut!' Lynda snapped. 'You're not going to undercut, or perm, or feather or scrunch. Nobody's going to let you anywhere near their hair, not now, not ever…'

'Kenny did.'

All eyes turned to Kenny, who was suddenly very interested in his biro. Kenny coughed.

'And a very good job you did of it too, Colin,' he told the pen eventually.

'Kenny?' Lynda asked.

'It was that or get my mum to do it,' Kenny shrugged. 'I was really broke, and you know how much I hate my hair getting too long…' He looked back up at the newsroom, with a new conviction set in his face. 'He's only three quid and he's better than my usual barber. Used to get my back lovely and straight.'

'I used a set square,' Colin added. 'Your average standard barber wouldn't go to that kind of trouble. So you see, I come highly recommended. Frazz never had any complaints either, did you, Frazz?'

Frazz looked about himself, shiftily. 'Nah, mate. Triffic stuff.'

'There you go,' smiled Colin, smugly.

Sarah looked from Frazz to Kenny and back again. 'Are you guys serious? You really trusted him? With scissors? And clippers? And razors?'

'It's just a haircut,' Frazz shrugged.

'Well, I certainly wouldn't have the nerves to do that,' Tiddler announced, fiddling with her ponytail, protectively.

Sarah blew her thick fringe out of her eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day.

'Nor me,' added Sam.

Sarah tugged at the long hair that had stuck to the sweat on the back of her neck.

'You'd have to be joking.' Lynda tucked a few curls behind her ear.

Sarah suddenly felt very itchy – very, very itchy. And hot. And heavy. She felt as though she should add her disapproval along with the other girls, although the conversation seemed to have moved on. Sarah didn't have to say that she'd never do something as foolish as let Colin Mathews cut her hair because everybody already knew that she wouldn't. Everybody knew she'd just keep on plodding away, same old predictable Sarah, with her thick, hot hair, never changing, never taking risks, never speaking up…

'Do me.'

'What?' Asked a large proportion of the newsroom.

What?!? Echoed Sarah's mind to herself, although her mouth just repeated 'Do me.'

'Sarah, have you taken leave of your senses?' Lynda demanded.

Sarah took in a deep breath, ready to cave. But she didn't. A small smile flickered over her lips. 'It's only a haircut, Lynda. And I feel like a change.'

'Fine,' Colin shrugged. 'I've got half an hour free, we can do it now if you like.'

'Why not?' Sarah gave Lynda another little smile. 'I'm sure I can make a hole in my busy schedule…'

'He's likely to make a hole in your busy head,' Lynda retorted. 'What the Hell are you thinking?'

'Don't listen to her, Sarah.' Colin slung an arm around Sarah's shoulder and began guiding her into his office. 'I'll need the fiver up front, by the way.'

'Kenny said three pounds.'

'I did Kenny months ago,' Colin replied, 'We've got inflation to take into account…'

'Three pounds,' Sarah insisted.

'Four?'

'Three.' She was beginning to enjoy this little burst of assertiveness. 'And only after you've cut it, if I like it.'

'I'm not doing this on commission!'

She folded her arms. 'That's my offer. Take it or leave it.'

She could see Colin twist up his face as he weighed up the options of Sarah's deal. After a moment he exhaled in a noisy exaggeration of defeat. 'I just can't say "no" to the ladies, can I?' He ushered Sarah inside the office and closed the door behind them. 'The Fairer Sex is going to be the end of me, I tell you.' He brushed his hands, striding towards a large, square sink sunk into a counter. 'Right, then.' He started pulling rolls of gaffer tape and balls of twine from the sink. He turned to her, brightly, as he did. 'Pull up a pew, then.'

Sarah faltered a little, her hand resting tentatively on the back of an office chair for a moment. She closed her eyes and mentally shook herself. She pushed the chair over to the sink and sat down slowly, carefully watching as Colin picked up the scissors.

'How much do you want off, then?'

Sarah stood back up, suddenly. 'You know, I might just get myself some new earrings or something instead…'

Colin pushed her back down in the chair. 'And how would anyone see them under all that hair?' He turned on the taps of the sink. 'Head back.'

'Hmm?'

He pulled gently at her hair. 'Tilt yer head back.'

She did so, watching him as he picked up a colourful toy watering can and filled it with warm water from the taps with a cheery whistle.

'Let me know if it's too hot, won't you?' He poured the contents of the watering can over her hair. The sprinkled water was slightly cooler than blood temperature. It felt good in the heat – instantly refreshing. Sarah said nothing, closing her eyes. Colin stopped to refill the can, this time scraping her hair up a little to let the water get to her scalp at the back of her head. With two fingers on her forehead he turned her head slightly to one side to repeat the process once more. Sarah exhaled and untensed. Nobody ever really played with her hair – she had to admit, it had actually seemed less than pleasant whenever she'd seen couples or flirtatious pairs running their nails over one another's scalps in the past – she'd always thought it would be the sort of thing that would make her skin crawl if it was done to her. Especially by someone like him… in fact, the thought of him of all people running his fingers through her hair was one that she had never so much as entertained until that moment. But it was… it was…

He stopped. She opened one eye, annoyed. He was rooting around a clutter of bottles on the counter.

'Got some Wash & Go somewhere round here.'

'You're not going to charge me extra for it…?'

'It's standard. Ah-ha.' He found the right bottle and squeezed some of the thick liquid into his palm. 'Need to get the knots out.'

He began to comb the shampoo through her hair with his fingers. She closed her eyes again and drifted back to her thoughts.

It was nice. It was really nice. Something about it was sending little tingling shocks right down her spine to her hips.

'All right there?'

'Mnmum?'

'You just groaned. I'm not pulling your hair, am I?'

'No.' Sarah flushed a little.

'Oh,' Colin replied, 'matter of factly. 'It must just be happening again, then.'

'What?'

'I can't really help it,' Colin added, cryptically, 'believe me, I've tried. It just sort of happens.'

'What "just sort of happens"?'

'You're going to tell me you love me.'

'What?'

'Happens every time. It's the reason the lads stopped using me, it was just getting too embarrassing all round.'

'I'm not going to tell you I love you, Colin!'

'Apparently I've got very good hands,' Colin explained. 'My clients get a little bit caught up in the moment, and… well… just blurt it out.' He started to rinse out her hair. 'It's not like they mean it or anything, but it can make things a bit awkward…'

'I'm not going to tell you I love you,' Sarah reiterated, sinking back into her trance. 'And I didn't tell you to stop.'

She was vaguely aware after a while that she was sitting upright, and that there was a towel over her shoulders. As long as his fingertips were still running over her scalp, sending thin trails of electricity dancing over her head and back, she was still happy to be in her little bubble, her eyes closed to the world, his voice a distant echo.

'What sort of thing do you want?' She heard him ask from a very long way away.

'Do whatever you like,' she mumbled.

'What?'

'Surprise me.'

'You sure?'

'Mmm.'

'I'll still want paying.'

His fingernails paused lightly at the nape of her neck. Sarah drifted further away still. 'Mmmmnn.'

'Fine.'

There was the distant sound of snipping scissors, but Sarah was barely conscious any more.

-x-

'Sarah? Sarah.'

'Mmm?'

The fingers came to a stop, and left her hair. With a faint, disappointed grumble she opened her eyes again.

'Finished,' Colin announced, proudly.

It took a moment for the world around her to come back into focus. Unfortunately, when it did she was looking at the floor. The floor which was now covered in eight-inch long locks of blonde hair.

'Oh my God.'

'I know,' beamed Colin.

She reached her hand up to the side of her head. Her hair had gone. Her hair had completely gone. There was nothing left but a short fuzz – barely more than stubble.

'Oh my God!'

Her hand travelled up to where her fringe and parting had once been, and found only short, gelled spikes.

'OH MY GOD!' She grabbed a mirror and stared at it, aghast. 'Colin, what have you done?'

'I surprised you,' replied Colin with a shrug, 'like you asked.'

'This is a man's haircut, Colin. This is your haircut!'

'It's a great haircut.'

'On you, maybe…' Sarah couldn't stop shaking her head in bewilderment at the reflection that greeted her in the mirror. 'I mean, have you even ever cut a girl's hair before?'

'Sarah,' Colin sighed, putting his arm around her and bringing his reflection down to meet hers in the mirror, 'Babe. Angel. That's not the point.'

'I look like a man!'

'It's the 90s, Sarah. Masculinity… Femininity… they're not the social constraints that they were back in the Dark Ages. They're just words. Outmoded concepts. This can't be a man's haircut if a woman is wearing it, now can it?'

'But…'

'This haircut, Sarah… it's urban. It's edgy. It's You.'

'How can it be Me, Colin?' Sarah wailed. 'I'm not urban, I'm sub-urban. And I'm certainly not edgy. I'm the most edgeless person I know. I'm practically spherical.'

'And that's the way you like it, is it?'

Sarah didn't answer. She just sighed. 'How do you expect a person like me to pull this sort of look off?'

'Of course you can pull it off, Sarah.' Colin pulled the mirror in closer to Sarah. 'Look at yourself. You're young. You're lean. You're angry…'

'I'm only angry because somebody's just cut all my hair off!'

'You need to go out there and look people in the eye and tell them "I am Sarah Jameson"…'

'Jackson,' Sarah corrected.

'Yeah, that'll work too,' Colin breezed, 'whatever's right for you. So you tell them "I am Sarah Jackson and this is my haircut. I deserve this haircut. I am this haircut!"'

'I deserve this haircut?' Echoed Sarah, unsure.

'Yeah you do. You tell them "I'm sharp".'

'I'm sharp.'

'"I'm extreme".'

'I'm extreme.'

'"I'm fearless".'

'I am fearless,' Sarah agreed, her heart beginning to pound. 'And I'm… I'm outspoken.'

'Damn right you are.'

'And I'm challenging.'

'Yes!'

'I defy convention!'

'You don't even know what convention is!'

Sarah sprang to her feet. 'I'm not a silly little schoolgirl any more. I'm a grown woman and a professional journalist and this is my haircut. And if anybody doesn't like it they can just… shove it up their backsides, because I am Sarah Jackson and everybody had better shut the Hell up and get out of my way!'

Colin matched her grin of victorious exhilaration. 'And that's three pounds.'

Sarah pulled a five-pound note from her pocket and slapped it into his hand. 'Keep the change. You earned it.'

And with that she turned, threw open the office doors and strode confidently into the newsroom.

Colin waited for the doors to swing shut again before he sank back into his chair with a sigh of relief. That had been a close one. He'd come damn close to losing the three quid, let alone getting his original asking price. Talk about pulling the sale out of the bag at the last minute. He made a mental note to at least do a bit of research into women's hairstyles before trying that one again. He'd realised halfway through that it was turning into a man's haircut but hadn't really been able to do anything about it by that point… not that Sarah had noticed anything at the time… not that anybody ever seemed to notice anything when he was cutting their hair. It was funny, that.

There was something else different about that time, too. Colin wound the five-pound note through his fingers as he pondered it. Something had been missing. The penny dropped, and Colin tutted, disappointed and a little hurt.

She had never told him that she loved him.

-x-

Of course plenty of people didn't like her haircut. And of course, in spite of her previous declarations, she never once ordered any one of the many detractors to insert anything rectally. She wasn't edgy, or extreme, or urban. She was Sarah Jackson. She almost definitely couldn't pull the short crop off.

But here was the funny thing.

She didn't care.

The Indian Summer lasted for another week, throughout which she enjoyed the cool breeze to her neck while Lynda grumbled and sweltered under her thick curls. And even as the weather turned cooler she continued to be very fond of her new image, jarring though it was. People, it seemed, were looking at her more often, and instead of shrinking back under her fringe at their gaze, she was now looking back, and smiling. And sometimes, even when she was alone, she would drift off a little and remember the feel of fingers running through her hair, of the hot trails of electricity dancing over her skin.

Confidence. That was what it was. That was what had sparkled out of his fingertips and shot into her nerves. Some sort of strange osmosis had clearly taken place, and now… and now she had that little bit of Colin Mathews' cockiness, a little bit of his gall, a little bit of his… Anti-Sarah-ness… running through her veins.

And as her hair began to grow longer along with the nights, she began to think about going back for more, to be able to close her eyes and transport herself somewhere else for half an hour and come back cropped and zinging once more. She began to think about going back again and again and again, of getting those little confidence injections on a regular basis, until either she no longer needed it or he had no more to give.

So that is precisely what she did.