SEEING RED

Your usual?’ I asked as Carla plonked herself into the hairdresser’s chair and gazed admiringly at her glamorous reflection, her long poker-straight flame-red hair framing her perfect high cheekbones and full, red lips.

She fluttered her spidery false lashes, her steel blue eyes seemingly mesmerised by her own beauty.

‘Thanks, Fi.’ she said. ‘You know what I like.’

I did indeed. More than she realised.

Picking up my scissors, I studied the scalpel-sharp blades. My salon was quiet. It was just the two of us.

I’d prepared everything I needed earlier, ready for the task