Centre Stage: A Novel

is just so sexy,’ Jessica exploded with fresh peals of laughter. ‘ Not! ’
    ‘Jess, help me!’ Tom pleaded. ‘I’ve got to get the dye out. It’s the gig next Friday.’ He groaned. ‘Not to mention school.’
    I caught Eve’s eye. ‘Still think my family are cool?’
    She couldn’t answer, she was laughing too much.
    Tom glared at us. ‘OK, don’t help me, then.’ He turned in what he seemed to imagine was a dignified way, and stalked back upstairs. Unfortunately for him the back of his hair was even worse than the front. He didn’t seem to have put the dye on evenly and the back of his head was striped orange and bright yellow. At the sight of it we laughed even more helplessly.
    Tom swung round. ‘Some help you are,’ he muttered bitterly.
    Just then there was the sound of the back door opening. ‘I’m home,’ Mum called. Hearing our laughter, she came through to the lounge. ‘What’s going…’ She saw Tom and her jaw dropped. ‘Oh my goodness, Tom!’ she exclaimed. ‘What have you done?’
    Mum was so not pleased with Tom for dyeing his hair, particularly when she found out that he’d also managed to get the dye — a permanent dye that didn’t wash out — on to a bathroom towel, the bathmat, and the bathroom walls. However, once she had finished telling him off and he had promised to buy a new towel and bathmat with his savings from his job as a washer-up at the village pub, she was far more help than the rest of us had been. She sent him off to put some clothes on and then sat him down in the kitchen and gingerly examined his — very ginger — hair.
    ‘Why did you do it?’ she asked as we all sat round and grinned at him. ‘It’s a really… um… unusual colour.’
    ‘I didn’t mean it to turn out like this,’ he groaned. ‘Look, it was supposed to go white.’ He held up the box the dye had come in. It showed a model — a girl — with white-blonde hair cut in a short spiky style.
    ‘Yes, but if you look on the box,’ Mum said, ‘you can see it says that if you have very dark hair you need to apply a separate hair-lightener first. Then when it’s gone lighter, you can dye it with this hair dye to make it go white. Didn’t you read the instructions?’
    ‘Yeah, but I just thought it was a scam to try and get you to buy two lots of dye. It cost me five pounds to get this one,’ Tom said.
    Mum shook her head. ‘It’s going to cost you a lot more to put it right. You’re going to have to go to a proper hairdresser. It could cost up to fifty pounds.’
    ‘Fifty pounds!’ Tom said in dismay. ‘But what about the amp I’ve been saving up for?’ He looked at her hopefully. ‘Couldn’t you pay?’
    ‘Definitely not,’ Mum said, shaking her head. ‘You got yourself into this mess, Tom, you can pay to get out of it. So what’s it to be?’ She fixed him with a look. ‘Hair or new amp?’
    Tom struggled for a moment. ‘Hair,’ he sighed at last.
    Mum smiled. ‘OK, I’ll give my hairdresser a ring and see when she can fit you in. She’s very good at dyeing hair.’
    ‘See if she can do it today, Mum,’ Tom said.
    Mum nodded, but when she got off the phone she said the soonest Helen the hairdresser could fit Tom in was Friday.
    ‘You mean I’ve got to stay like this all a week?’ Tom exclaimed, looking aghast.
    ‘I’m afraid so,’ Mum said. She paused. ‘Though Helen did say she could fit you in first thing Monday morning for a haircut. If it’s shorter it might not look quite so bad.’
    ‘Cut my hair?’ Tom’s eyes widened in alarm. ‘No way! I’m growing it.’
    ‘I know, it’s a shame,’ Mum said. She sounded innocent but I could see the smile lurking at the corners of her mouth. ‘But Helen did say that the dye might have damaged your hair and that you might have to cut most of the dye out on Friday anyway. Of course,’ she added quickly, ‘Dad and I don’t mind paying for a haircut, Tom. So what do you say? Shall I book you in?’
    Tom looked at Jessica and me. He looked like this was torture for him.
    ‘You can’t stay looking like that till next Friday,’ Jessica said, glancing at his frizzy orange hair.
    ‘And your hair looks much nicer short,’ I put in. ‘It really does.’
    ‘Yeah,’ Harriet agreed. ‘I think so too.’
    ‘Well?’ Mum said to Tom.
    He gave a deep sigh. ‘OK,’ he said, almost as if he was making a decision to have his leg cut off. ‘I’ll have it done.’
    On Monday Tom and Mum set off