#been rewatching gavin and stacey a fair bit

[cels-not-so-secret-love-affair]

forget-me-not (mary & lily)

a/n: mary obliviates herself nearer the start of the war. don’t ask me why or how, it’s kind of timey wimey. i guess i was just thinking about the angst of not remembering…

‘So, first time client, what can I do for you?’ Mary inquires brightly, sporting her signature sunny smile as she runs her hands idly through the long locks of red hair in front of her.

‘Um. Just a trim, please. And a blow-dry,’ the redhead sat in the chair before Mary answers quietly. She’s gazing vacantly at her reflection with a lost sort of look, and the edges of her eyes are tinged slightly pink as though she’s been crying. Mary feels overwhelmingly sad for her.

‘Sure babes, that’s totally fine! Sorry, remind me of your name again?’

‘It’s Lily. Lily Evans.’

‘Okay Lily. You’re in good hands.’ Mary squeezes Lily’s shoulders in an attempt to reassure her, and meets her eyes sympathetically in the mirror. ‘How much do you reckon you’re willing to take off? A few inches?’

‘I don’t mind. Whatever you think.’

‘That’s a lot of trust, girl! Now, I don’t know what I’ve done to earn it, but I can promise you I absolutely will not fail you. Best in the biz, I am.’ She winks at Lily, but she doesn’t reply. She just looks…broken. A strange ache digs into Mary’s ribs, and she feels awfully as if she’s said the wrong thing.

‘You good to come with me to get you shampooed, Lily Evans?’ she asks quickly, eager to move on and dislodge the odd, constricting grief from her chest.

‘Yeah. Yes, thank you.’

‘Alright, hun.’

Washing Lily’s hair doesn’t present any issues. Mary does as she always does, massaging Lily’s scalp and laughing and gossiping with the others in the shop, her curls bouncing happily about her face as she moves about her station. The salon is always full of life and love, especially on Fridays. It’s one of the reasons why she loves it so much. Halfway through a regular turns up, a grumpy little old lady named Marjorie with big square glasses, and Mary waves to her cheerily as she comes grumbling in. Everything’s just as usual. Sure, Lily isn’t saying much, but some clients just aren’t that chatty, and Mary pays it no mind. She hums along absentmindedly to the songs on the radio and can almost ignore the quiet tugging that’s settled in her sternum since the beginning of the appointment.

‘Anything exciting planned for the weekend?’ Mary pipes up once they’ve returned to the chair, hoping to inspire some conversation as she expertly snips the ends of Lily’s hair with rapid precision.

‘Yeah, it’s, uh… it’s my best friend’s birthday.’

‘Oh, really? Which day?’

‘The Sunday.’

‘Oh my god, no way! That’s my birthday too. You’ll have to wish her well for me.’

‘I will, thanks. And happy birthday, in advance.’ Lily offers up a wan smile before looking away.

‘Thank you! I’ve a day off on Monday, so me and a couple of girlfriends are going out on the town to celebrate.’

‘That’s really great. I hope you have a good time, Mary.’ Mary gives a buoyant, dazzling grin by way of a reply, and Lily looks like her heart is breaking.

‘Okay, I’d say we’re just about all done! What are we thinking? Something you’d like to change?’ Lily’s tired green eyes flick to her hair and the soft curls that are now framing her face prettily. She gives a small shake of her head, but Mary gets the sense that she’s not really seeing it. She seems distracted.

‘You’re definitely happy?’

‘Yeah. It’s perfect. Just how I’ve always had it done.’

‘If you’re sure,’ Mary smiles, pulling the hairdresser’s cape from her shoulders with a soft whoosh and giving the ends of her freshly washed hair a final zhuzh. ‘Anita over there will sort out payment for you, and she can help you schedule your next appointment as well - that is, if you think I’ve done a good enough job to warrant your coming back.’

‘I’ll ring.’

‘Perfect. It was lovely to meet you, Lily. I’ll be sure to remember you for next time.’ Lily flinches at the last part, then swallows thickly.

‘Yeah, well. I’ll be going. Thank you, for… being so friendly.’ And then she’s gone, departing to speak with Anita at the desk and leaving Mary sat stewing in a distinct sense of loss.