Читать книгу Nathalia Buttface and the Most Embarrassing Five Minutes of Fame Ever - Nigel Smith - Страница 10

HY HAVE ONE NORMAL HAIRSTYLE WHEN YOU CAN HAVE TEN WILD ONES USING BIO-ORGANIC GEL WITH A STEADY HOLD.

… screamed the poster in the hair salon.

“So, we want pictures of you every day for ten days,” explained Mrs Hideous. “Every morning you’ll be given a free new hairstyle by our top stylist Suki Glossop. Won’t that be exciting?” She was using the sort of pretend-nice voice that mums use when they’re trying to get kids to take medicine and the poorly child has already spat it out twice.

“I dunno,” said Nat, still shaken from her brush with fame outside.

“Come on – people are going to look at you anyway,” said Dad. “At least this way you’ll get something out of it.”

Yes, and I should be used to being stared at by now, being in your stupid company, Nat thought to herself glumly.

Top stylist Suki Glossop, a young woman with half her head shaved, a collection of piercings and a big tattoo of a dragon up her arm, started fluffing up Nat’s hair.

“Get off,” said Nat.

“Can you do something with it?” asked Mrs Hideous.

“You’re not giving me quality materials to work with,” Suki said, sounding very bored.

“Hey,” said Nat, “that’s me you’re talking about. I AM quality materials, thank you very much.”

“Just do what you can, OK?” said Mrs Hideous to Suki Glossop. “You’ve got Elsie Stain booked in for a shampoo and set at eleven and you know how she gets if we’re not ready. Especially if she’s started on the sherry early.”

“I thought modelling was supposed to be glamorous, Dad,” hissed Nat as Suki started preparing her scissors and brushes. “This place is horrible. It smells of burned hair and cats and it’s full of mad old people.”

“That’s why they need you, love,” explained Dad. “You’re their bit of glamour. You should be flattered.”

Nathalia didn’t feel very glamorous when her head was shoved in the sink and red-hot water sprayed all over it.

“Ow ow ow!” gasped Nat as her head boiled.

“It needs a hot wash to get the muck out,” said Suki, scrubbing shampoo into Nat’s tender scalp.

“There’s no muck IN,” said Nat, offended.

“Sorry, she doesn’t wash her hair very much,” said Dad. “I’d offer to do it for her, but she says she’s too old these days. But this is the result – manky hair.”

“I have NOT got manky hair!” bubbled Nat from the sink, mouth full of shampoo. Her whole head was a big afro of foam. “Shut up, Dad.”

Eventually her hair was de-mucked enough for Suki to begin drying, which she insisted on doing with a rough towel, by hand, very hard.

“You’re very lucky,” said Suki, with a pout. “I wanted to be the hair model, but apparently I’m not as famous as you.”

“You’re pulling,” complained Nat, buried under the scratchy towel. “Ouchy!”

“I can’t put you under the dryer – you’ve got such weak roots they’ll just frazzle to a crisp,” said Suki.

“Hear that, Dad?” said Nat. “Weak roots. I know where I get those from.” Dad put his hand up to his thinning thatch.

“Does she always complain this much?” asked Mrs Hideous, coming over with a tub of the gloopy gel.

“She’s not TOO bad,” said Dad, who liked talking about Nat to people when she was sitting right next to him. “Although she moaned and moaned when I wouldn’t let her have her ears pierced.”

“What’s wrong with getting your ears pierced?” said Suki, rubbing Nat’s head even harder. Shuddup, Dad, thought Nat. Can’t you see this woman’s got twelve earrings in each ear??? Not to mention the one in her nose. Or eyebrow. In fact, she’s got more piercings than FACE.

“Nothing WRONG with them,” said Dad. “It’s just that children look horrible with earrings. Also, it hurts them. Parents who give their kids earrings should be arrested.”

“My little Trayvon and D’Shaun have BOTH got earrings,” growled Suki. “And they’ve had them since they were two years old.” Nat’s head was getting squashed.

“That’s nice,” said Dad. “Um – is her hair dry now?”

Suki whipped off the towel, grabbed a massive handful of the gel and slapped it on Nat’s head with a splat. Nat could feel it trickling down her neck.

“That’s rather a lot,” said Mrs Hideous, but then she saw the dark expression on Suki’s face and slid off out of the way.

“I think something EXTREME to start,” said Suki. “Unless Daddy’s little girl can’t handle it?”

Nat had had enough of Suki flipping Glossop. Dad might be embarrassing, but this girl was unpleasant and rude. And she was NOT going to let her think she was some silly kid.

Suki began to style. She yanked and pulled and twisted her hair, but Nat wouldn’t let on that it hurt. She was a very determined girl and shut her eyes tight and didn’t utter a squeak until she heard:

“Finished. Waddya think?”

She opened her eyes and looked in the mirror. She had promised herself that she wouldn’t complain NO MATTER HOW HORRIBLE it was.

But it wasn’t horrible.

It was wild, it was wacky.

But it was WONDERFUL.

Her new crazy hairstyle was huge and daring and exciting and Nat thought it made her look five years older at least.

It was swept back and up and over and out and high. It made Nat’s thin, straight hair look full and curly and spiky and super-glamorous. It was the sort of hairstyle that only miserable-looking models on the front of proper posh magazines have.

Nat posed in front of the mirror, not believing her eyes, ducking down and turning this way and that to see the whole, massive creation.

She LOVED it.

“It’s terrible,” said Dad.

“It’s – flipping – brilliant,” said Nat.

“Told you I was good,” said Suki, grinning smugly.

Oh my gosh, this is the kind of hairstyle that the cool kids at school will want but their parents won’t let them have, thought Nat. Which means that finally, after all this time, I’m actually one of the cool kids.

“I don’t like it,” said Dad.

“Too bad,” sniffed Mrs Hideous. “She has to wear it like that all day, along with a T-shirt advertising the salon.”

She handed Nat a cheap-looking bright red T-shirt with THE FINAL CUT printed on it.

“She can’t go out in public like that,” said Dad.

“She can and she will. It’s in the contract,” said Mrs Hideous. “Just above where you signed.”

“I can’t read that, I left my glasses in the van,” admitted Dad.

“Then why did you sign it?” asked Nat.

“Don’t interfere,” said Dad. “I’m talking business – you won’t understand.”

“You might have signed me up for anything,” wailed Nat. “You could have signed me up for the army, or for scientific experiments. You are rubbish.”

“That’s not fair,” said Dad, feeling a bit harassed. “You just said you liked the hair.”

“Not the point.” Nat looked at herself in the mirror. It was true though; she DID like it, so she couldn’t be annoyed at Dad for too long.

“Who’s doing the photographs?” asked Dad. “Is it one of those paparazzi who take pictures of all the stars?”

“We don’t believe in paying photographers,” said Mrs Hideous. “It says in the contract you’ll take the pictures. It makes it more natural.”

It makes it more cheap, you mean, thought Nat, who was feeling less and less like a celebrity by the second.

“I’ve always fancied myself as a celebrity snapper,” said Dad. “I once took a photo of Nat that made it into the local paper. She won a beautiful toddler contest.”

“For BOYS,” said Nat. “Remember? It was a beautiful boy contest.”

“Yeah, but you still won,” said Dad. “You got that scooter.”

“You said that was from Santa!” said Nat, remembering the scooter. “You massive cheapskate.”

“Now off you go,” said Mrs Hideous, who wanted Dad out of her salon as quickly as possible. “Try and take the picture somewhere pretty.”

“Round here?” said Dad, laughing. “Not likely – this is the most horrible street in town.”

“I live above the salon,” said Mrs Hideous, hands on hips.

“And I live next door, above the launderette,” said Suki.

“We’re leaving now, bye!” said Nat quickly, dragging Dad outside by the hand.

“Be careful with the hair,” shouted Suki, just as a massive lorry thundered past. “Don’t let it get wet.”

“What did she say?” asked Nat as they walked back to the Atomic Dustbin. People were staring at her again, but this time she didn’t mind; she knew they were only staring at her AMAZING HAIR. She felt like a film star.

“Dunno, there was too much traffic and I couldn’t hear properly. Something about keeping it wet? Probably helps the shine.”

“Righty ho,” said Nat, skipping along and not paying attention, but checking out her awesome reflection in every shop window. A number 3 bus trundled by.

“Oooh, Dad,” she said, reminded of her little monster of a mate. “Can we go and show Darius?”

“No problem. I’ll just pop in the mini market for a bottle of water for your hair. I don’t want those ladies to think I get EVERYTHING wrong.”