The makeover

Maggie had made a simple request, so how had her husband got it so wrong?

Maggie stared in the mirror and frowned. Was that another wrinkle by her eye?

I can' t bear it,' she sighed. What?' asked Donald, not even looking up from his paper.

My face! Everything' s sinking, wrinkling and sagging!'

Donald looked up and smiled. Not for nothing did he pride himself on being an amateur psychologist.

This is all to do with your 40th birthday, isn' t it?' he asked.

Is it?' asked Maggie. Of course it is! The big 4-0! It' s a turning point, a life change, the start of the downhill slope¼'

Stop it!'

What?'

I' m trying not to think about it,' she muttered.

Pushing it to the back of your mind is the worst thing you can do!' he said. You need to come to terms with it by facing it, full-on.'

Do I?' she asked.

Of course you do,' he said. Really?'

Donald nodded and smiled. I' ve arranged a little surprise for you. Well, a big surprise, actually.'

The hairs on the back of Maggie' s neck stood on end.

The look on her husband' s face was one that she' d seen many times before, and she knew she wasn' t going to like it.

What have you gone and arranged?' she asked.

Well, if I told you, it wouldn' t be a surprise, would it?' he grinned.

Maggie gritted her teeth. She' d experienced Donald' s surprises before.

Tell me!'

I can' t!'

Suddenly she knew. What was the worst possible thing she could imagine?

It' s a party, isn' t it?' she said. `A surprise party all my friends and relatives have been told that I' m going to be 40¼'

Donald grinned. I' m saying nothing!'

He didn' t need to.

Maggie' s heart sank.

She' d been trying so hard not to let on how old she was and now Donald had told everyone.

Knowing him, there' d probably be a painted sheet hung on the roundabout for the whole world to see.

She looked around her. Here?' she asked.

What?'

Are we having the party here?'

What party?' asked Donald.

Maggie could have hit him. There was one consolation. At least now she had time to tidy up and get the house ready.

What a mess!' she cried. Come on, you don' t look that bad,' said Donald. Admittedly your hair' s going a bit grey¼

I was talking about this room!' Maggie cried.

And then she caught sight of herself again in the mirror.

She did look a mess. And he was right there were grey hairs. How had she never noticed them before?

It looks awful! I need a whole new colour,' she cried. In fact, I need a complete makeover.'

What?'

If all my friends are coming, I need a complete makeover,' she repeated, turning to him.

What? As a birthday present?' asked Donald.

Yes, it needn' t be that

expensive¼'

`Are you sure? Is that what you really want?'

Yes! You want me to face 40 full-on? Well, this is the only way I can do it.'

OK,' said Donald. Leave it to me.'

Maggie smiled. It was time to show everyone her new, bold self lurking within.

She would have to wear something striking, and a whole new vibrant colour for her hair. She' d always wanted to be a red-head¼

What colour were you thinking of?' he asked.

Red!'

Donald almost fell off his chair. Red! That' s a bit drastic.'

It' s my 40th birthday,' Maggie said. I want a big change to show I' m ready to grasp the future head-on. So, humour me just this once, Donald.'

He hesitated.

Please?'

OK, if you' re really sure?' Positive!' said Maggie. She was going to dazzle them. So you' ll fix it, then? You know who to book it with, don' t you?'

Yes,' sighed Donald.

You' re really sure about this?'

Maggie had never been more sure of anything.

And then a thought suddenly occurred to her. Knowing Donald¼.

I want it done for the party,' she said. On the day, preferably, so it' s all fresh¼'

Of course!' said Donald. What party?'

She managed to get it out of Donald that the party was to be the Saturday before her birthday.

What a relief! At least when she saw everyone she wouldn' t actually be 40.

She ordered the party food, and reminded Donald that he' d have to get the drinks. He pretended he didn' t know what she was talking about, but that joke was wearing a bit thin.

It wasn' t until the day before the party that she found the perfect dress. It was flattering, it took years off her and it would go with her new hair colour.

What time is it happening tomorrow, then?' she asked

Donald when she got home.

Is what happening?' he asked.

Maggie frowned.

Surely he hadn' t forgotten?

My makeover.'

Oh, the present you asked for,' Donald said. Aren' t presents supposed to be surprises?'

Yes, but I have to be in the right place at the right time, don' t I?' she asked. Otherwise I won' t be the only one surprised.'

Suppose so.'

He was determined not to make this easy. She sighed. I' ve still got to buy shoes. So, if I went shopping early and was back by, say, 11, would that be all right?'

Fine.'

Good.'

The next day Maggie rushed round the shops and finally found the perfect shoes.

It was obviously her day!

She arrived home tired, but exhilarated, ready to be pampered by Pierre. Thank goodness his salon was just round the corner.

As she opened her front door, she was met by a strange smell coming from the lounge.

Donald?' she asked, pushing open the door.

He grinned down at her from the top of a ladder. At first Maggie didn' t see him. Instead she saw the walls. They were red. Bright, deep red. Her lounge looked like a tart' s boudoir!

What on earth?' she cried. That¼ that colour!'

I know,' said Donald, paint roller in hand. But you chose it for your birthday. Red you said and red it is.'

What are you talking about?'

Donald laughed. You are a one! Pretending you know nothing about it. OK, darling, here' s your birthday present. The lounge makeover you wanted for your party!

I' m doing it myself to save money, but you were wrong, love, it' ll take more than a day doing it on my own. Can you give me a hand?'

Maggie stared at him. He wasn' t joking. He hadn' t arranged a makeover for her instead he was ruining her lounge. He even expected her to get up a ladder and join him!

Well he could think again. She turned on her heel and stormed out the front door.

Maggie?' cried Donald, rushing down his ladder and running after her. What are you doing? Where are you going?'

For my beauty makeover!' she cried. I' m a valued customer, so if I beg, plead and grovel, hopefully Pierre will fit me in. But I might not be back for six!

You may need to pop the party food in the oven.'

Donald stared at her. Never mind the party food. What about the lounge? Our guests are due in seven hours. What shall I do with them until you arrive?' That was easy¼ Maggie turned at the door and said: Give them an overall and a roller each

and a great big tin of magnolia paint!'

SheÕd been trying so hard not to let on how old she was, and now Donald had told everyone!