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Zac Silver's Hairy Tale - Chapter 3

Zac chopped into Tilly’s hair and pulled some diamond-strength styling gel from his bag. He emptied her make-up onto the bed and stabbed at her face with lipstick, mascara and eyeshadow. In no time at all, he’d finished. He handed Tilly a mirror.


“Have you gone mad?” Tilly snatched the mirror from his hand. She gasped at her reflection. “Oh my days! I look twenty years younger.” She wobbled her beehive from side to side. “It’s not quite as big as it used to be but I love it. You’re a magician young man.”


“That’s not what Mr. Barker thinks. He’s my head teacher. He says there’s something wrong with me.”


“Oh really!” Tilly scowled. “Mr. Barker’s an idiot – trust me. A champion loser.” They both laughed. Tilly opened a drawer and started flinging underwear and clothes into the air. “An angel sent you here today. I just know it.”


“An angel?” Zac scratched his head. “Miss Cleaver!? Mr Barker!!?”


“No, I mean everything happens for a reason. This is too much of a coincidence. The angels are at work.” She carried on hunting through her drawers (quite literally). Zac wondered whether Tilly’s medication was wearing off.


“Got it!” She handed Zac a yellow flyer. “This was pushed through the letterbox at Heavenly Heights last week. I wanted to volunteer but that mean bag Cleaver wouldn’t let me. I always wanted to be a model.”


Zac read the leaflet. ‘Models required for Over 14’s Regional Hairdressing Championships. Volunteers will receive a free haircut and goody bag. If interested, the contest will be held on Friday 19th June at ‘Salon Extraordin-Hair’. Arrive no later than 3pm. See you there, David (pronounced Daveed!)’


“I can’t believe Miss Cleaver wouldn’t let you go,” said Zac.


“I’m not bothered about that!” Tilly shook her head. “Friday 19th June. That’s today! It’s a hairdressing competition Zac.”


Zac picked the flyer up again. “But it’s for over 14’s. I’m only 11.”


Tilly snatched the piece of paper. “You’re not going to let small details like that stand in your way are you? If you can make me look 20 years younger, I’m sure I can make you look 3 years older.” She brushed out Zac's spikes and parted his hair. She pulled off her silk scarf and turned it into a cravat around his neck. Lastly, she yanked cat-eye glasses from her beehive and pushed them onto his face. “Perfect.”









Zac turned to the mirror. “I look ridiculous!”


“Yes dear - a lot of hairdressers do. It’s the look.” She grabbed her handbag. “Right come on, let’s go.”


“Say Miss Cleaver catches us?”


“Don’t worry about her. She spends all afternoon watching Murder She Wrote in the staffroom.”


They crept along the corridor. “Give me a few minutes. I want to see the others before we leave,” Zac said and went into the lounge. The semi-circle of pensioners hadn’t moved since he was last in there. “Hello everyone. Don’t be alarmed.”

He drew scissors from his bag with his left hand and a can of hairspray with his right. He stepped towards the first lady.

He cut and sprayed like a supersonic octopus.


The old man next to her leant over, “Just ignore him Deirdre. That’s what Miss Cleaver said. Ignore him or she might not give us dinner again.” Zac worked like a whirlwind along the line. He tugged the pile of Hello magazines from beneath the chair. For inspiration, he flicked to a different page for each pensioner. Fifteen minutes - they were all done.


But they just sat there.


Tilly heaved the mirror from above the fireplace. “Look you lot. Look what he’s done.” The pensioners raised their heads and caught sight of themselves.


George smiled. “I look like Elvis!”


Deidre grinned. “I look like me again!"


The room buzzed with chuckles and chatter. “Put some music on Tilly,” said George as he hauled himself from the chair.


Tilly flicked the radio on. A song was already playing: “They tried to make me go to rehab but I said No, No, No.”


“Turn it up,” Deidre said. She got up and started dancing with George. “I like this one.”


Soon they were all dancing around the room singing. “They tried to make me got to rehab but I said No, No, No.”


Tilly plonked herself into a wheelchair. “It’ll be quicker if we use this. Come on let’s go.” Zac pushed Tilly through the crowd. He stopped for a quick dance with Deidre and then darted towards the exit.

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