Maisie had never seen anything so beautiful in her life and stood back, with hands on hips, admiring it all

Chrissie turned to Maisie. “What happened to you on Sunday?” she asked, as they made their way into work. “Nothing much,” said Maisie, “just changing my life.” “Changing your what?” Maisie smiled. “I’ll tell you later but just so you know, from now on, it’s all going to be about me.”

Maisie couldn’t wait to tell Chrissie her plans and hurried her along the queue for soup and pies, to a table in the corner of the canteen.

She explained about the bedroom plan which, thanks to Chrissie’s mum, just might come to pass.

“Then there’s this ‘mop’,” she continued, indicating the brittle beehive hairdo. “This,” she said in a low voice, “is going to go.”

Chrissie raised her eyes to Maisie’s crowning glory. “For a start, she said, “it’s getting cut and then – I’m going blonde.”

Chrissie’s eyes widened further, remembering Keiller’s dance, when Maisie had tried to look like Diana Dors and how that had ended!

“Blonde,” she echoed, “but your hair’s lovely the colour it is.”

Compliment

Chrissie had always envied Maisie’s wavy brown hair and couldn’t begin to understand why she wanted to change anything about it.

Maisie dismissed the compliment with a wave of her hand. “That’s as maybe, but it says in Red Letter that ‘blondes have more fun,’ and that’s what I intend to have in my life – more fun.”

There, Maisie inwardly patted herself on the back. She’d just made another change in her life, she realised, and her confidence in her “life-changing” decisions grew.

“Mum’s letting me keep my board money this week, so I’ll book an appointment with Sylvia’s Salon in Albert Street for Saturday and then, look out world, the new blonde Maisie Green is coming to town.”

Chrissie wasn’t at all sure about the “new blonde” Maisie Green, but had to admit that her friend had taken a few hard knocks of late and maybe her new thinking was just what was needed.

Maisie couldn’t wait until Saturday and her visit to Sylvia’s Salon and, by the end of the week, Chrissie had some more good news for her.

“Mum says she’s got the stuff you wanted and that dad will bring it round in his car after teatime tonight.”

“Really!” Maisie exclaimed, not able to believe her luck. Chrissie nodded. “Yep,” she said, glad to see her friend’s delighted face.

“She said the daughter of one of her pals at the WI got married recently and she’s clearing out her bedroom, so it looks like your luck’s in.”

Maisie clasped her hands and looked heavenward. “Thanks,” she said, “to whoever you are up there for liking me.”

Chrissie’s dad, John Dalton, pulled up at the gate in his Morris Clubman and began unloading Maisie’s “new bedroom”.

She ran to open the front door and couldn’t believe her eyes. “Is this all for me?” she asked, searching Mr Dalton’s face for reassurance.

“It is that, Maisie,” he said kindly. “So if you’ll give me a hand, we’ll get it moved in.”

Chrissie’s dad carried the chair and bedside cabinet, while Maisie brought in the rest.

“How much do I owe Mrs Dalton,” she asked, searching for her purse in her handbag. “A couple of quid, I think she said.”

Treasures

Maisie looked around at her new treasures. “For all this?” “For all this,” he echoed, “and see you enjoy it.”

After he’d gone, Maisie’s mother put her head round the door of her daughter’s bedroom. “What was all that about?”

Maisie grinned. “It’s about making changes,” she said. “Today my bedroom, tomorrow, ME.”

Maisie’s mother inspected the new additions, as Maisie told her about Mrs Dalton and the WI.

“Remind me to go to their next jumble sale,” she said, stunned at the “good as new” pieces. “Your dad could do with a new chair.”

Maisie spent the rest of the evening, arranging the contents of her room.

The opaque glass bowl replaced her old lampshade, the pink padded chair was set in place of the basket chair and the little pink and cream shag pile rug was placed on the floor beside her bed.

The bedside cabinet with its soft cream lamp replaced the old wooden chair that had held her alarm clock but, best of all, a beautiful pink satin quilt and pillowcase now adorned her bed.

Maisie had never seen anything so beautiful in her life and stood back, hands on hips, admiring it all.

Slowly, she sat down on the padded chair and took out a cigarette from its packet. She was about to light up, when she realised that smoking in her bedroom was no longer a good idea.

She couldn’t bear the thought of filling her new space with smoke. Another important decision had just been made.

Maisie was stopping smoking, as from NOW. She put the cigarette back into its packet.

She’d give the cigarettes to Chrissie tomorrow, she decided, and, feeling very righteous and pleased with all her decisions, she prepared for bed by the light of the bedside lamp and enjoyed the sensation of her toes wiggling in the shag pile rug.

Attentions

She couldn’t wait until tomorrow and the visit to Sylvia’s Salon. Sylvia herself was to do the cutting and colouring, Maisie was told, as she was prepped for her transformation by Gloria, who was responsible for shampooing and tea making.

With her hair swathed in a towel and cup of tea to hand, Maisie waited for the attentions of Sylvia’s experienced hands.

“Hepburn or Monroe?” she asked Maisie. Not sure what she meant, Maisie opted for Hepburn.

She watched with a mixture of fascination and apprehension as her brown locks were snipped and dropped all around her until what remained clung to her scalp in shock.

“It’s a bit short,” she ventured nervously.

“It’s what you asked for,” replied Sylvia. “A Hepburn or, as we call it in the trade, an urchin cut.”

Maisie nodded slowly, beginning to panic that her biggest decision wasn’t, in fact, turning out to be her best one.

Ignoring any further queries, Sylvia produced a frightening-looking tray of bottles and metal dishes and donned rubber gloves.

“This might sting a bit,” she said cheerily, “but that’s normal.” She began to mix the lotions while Maisie closed her eyes.

She’d come this far, there was no turning back now. For the next hour, Sylvia applied her hairdressing skills and expertly turned Maisie into a blonde.

More tomorrow.