DEE-LIGHTFUL.
I'm Dee Richards and I'm a mobile nail technician trading under the name of "Dee-Lightful Nails". Simply put that means that I call on clients in their own homes to give manicures and pedicures, mainly cosmetic but occasionally therapeutic as well. This is the story of a call to one of the latter.
Lara Robinson came from a newly wealthy family, the rich daughter of a successful entrepreneur and property developer, who had married into what is commonly known as 'the old money' - although in the case of Christopher Robinson that money was mostly conspicuous by its absence. Lara had been in her early thirties and he about eight years older when they had married some six years previously. But then, only a few months after the wedding, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and spent the next three years fighting for her life. She was now in long term remission with good prospects of being declared completely clear. But the disease had taken its toll and had left her unable to bear children, and that was something that Christopher found unforgivable and for which he would divorce her if he thought he could afford to. She had also lost weight, her dark brown hair had become well peppered with grey though she was not yet forty and her nails had become weak and yellowed from the effects of chemotherapy. That's where I came in, calling once a fortnight to cut, shape and file her nails, then to whiten them and apply a coat of strengthening lacquer
The Robinsons lived in an old Regency manor house that Lara's money had bought but which Christopher had chosen because he believed it suited his 'status'. It was tucked away at the end of country lane and, with Lara's agreement, I had made it the last call of the day simply because the quiet, sedate drive there was a good way to unwind after rushing around all day. So it was early evening when I pulled through the ivy covered gateway into the manor house yard.
I parked my more modest wheels beside Lara's current model Audi convertible, and then frowned as I saw damage to the front of that beautiful car. It had clearly been involved in some sort of incident and my immediate thought was for Lara, not just as a client but as someone I liked as a person. I hauled my battered equipment case from my back seat and set off hurriedly across the gravel for the door.
Lara was longer answering the door than usual and when she did she was wearing a loose fitting blue kimono rather than her normally elegant attire. The reason was immediately obvious because she was also wearing a high surgical collar and had her right arm in a cast. The cast was bent at the elbow to hold her arm awkwardly at right angles and the collar prevented her from looking anywhere but straight ahead. Combine that with a few yellowing bruises and several stitches over one eyebrow and Lara presented a personification of the walking wounded. In other circumstances I would have been hard put not to smile, but to see the tall, elegant woman in such a state could only evoke genuine sympathy.
'What happened to you?'
'Would you like the condensed or the full version?' Lara smiled ruefully as she held open the door for me to enter.
'Condensed will do for now. You can tell me the rest as I do your nails.'
'Condensed is simple. I tried to park the car in a tree. Don't try it yourself Dee, it doesn't work.'
I followed Lara through into the kitchen, wondering what had actually happened.
'How? I mean why? Here let me do that.'
Lara was struggling to fill a kettle for their usual pre-manicure coffee so this time I took it and did the job for her.
'It makes a change for me to make the coffee.' I commented, trying to make small talk.
'Just so long as you don't add it to my bill.' Lara smiled.
'I'll only charge you for your nails, anything else is gratis.' I promised.
I looked over my shoulder as I spooned creamer into the two mugs, feeling a wave of sympathy for the Lara I saw sitting awkwardly at the kitchen table, fidgeting as if she couldn't find a comfortable way to sit. After all she had been through health wise this seemed so unfair. But then, I reminded myself, I didn't know the full story yet.
The explanation that came over coffee did nothing to lessen my sympathy, in fact quite the reverse. Lara had been tipped off that her husband was seeing someone else and she decided to confront him. Far from denying it Christopher had readily admitted the fact and a full scale row had developed that ended when he threw her sterility at her, stating that a son and heir had to be got from somewhere, and if she couldn't...? He had let the question hang and Lara had fled the house sobbing.
She had jumped into her car and driven away, anywhere, just away. Unfortunately negotiating country lanes at speed with a mind full of betrayal and eyes full of tears could only end one way, and it did. The worst of it was that as she sat in the crashed car waiting for the emergency services to arrive, her husband's Range Rover had come along the same road, slowed when he saw the wreck, and then sped away without stopping. Lara could easily have been bleeding to death for all he knew, but that would not have made the slightest difference to Christopher except to offer him an easy way to be rid of her. She had not heard from him since and she assumed he had gone to stay with his mistress until he found out how Lara had fared.
'What are you going to do now?' I asked, lifting my case onto the table to begin my real function.
'Well.' She began with a twinkle in her eye. 'I can either repair the car and scrap the marriage, or repair the marriage and scrap the car.' She wriggled uncomfortably before continuing. 'It's not nice to see your so-called soul mate drive straight past when you need him most, and anyway I quite like that car. I guess I've been too much of a doormat and he's got used to getting away with almost anything.'
'Repair the car.' I advised her. 'Don't let him get away with this.'
'I think I've already made that decision, I've just got to tell myself.'
I took Lara's plastered arm, laid the hand on a rolled up towel as gently as I could and took a cotton bud to clean the old varnish from her nails. 'How long have you got to wear this plaster?' I asked as I worked.
'I've cracked a bone in my elbow and they reckon it'll be a few weeks, but, oh boy, will I be glad to see it gone.'
'And the collar?' In a way I was just making polite conversation, but I'll admit to being curious as well. In any case Lara was part client, part friend and I was genuinely concerned.
'That's not so bad, just a touch of whiplash so I should be rid of that next week, I bloody well hope.'
'Must make life awkward.' I remarked.
'Does now I'm on my own. That's why I'm wearing this.' She indicated her kimono. 'Getting dressed is such a problem.'
'Oh well, look on the bright side. At least you didn't break a nail.'
'Trust you.' Lara giggled and then continued more seriously. 'Thanks Dee, you can always make me smile. I look forward to your visits, you know.'
I didn't know and it made me feel good to be told. I squeezed Lara's fingers and smiled back. 'I'm glad, I see you as a friend as well as a customer.'
I released Lara's hand and reached for the other, noticing her pull a face as she shifted her position to comply.
'Hurting?' I asked sympathetically.
'No, not hurting.' She shuffled in her seat, frowning slightly. 'Just a bit uncomfortable.'
'I'm sorry. Would it be better another way?'
'No, I'm all right. Just ignore me.'
