Mexican Kimono. Billie Jones

      ‘Bob. I’m on a schedule here. Things will move quicker if you just listen.’

      The shadow cleared from his eyes. He had no fight left. ‘Size eleven.’

      I walked to the shoe section, which sold genuine leather shoes in every colour imaginable. I picked black, brown and beige and six pairs of matching socks. He could wear his thongs on Sundays.

      ‘Try these.’

      The black boots fit perfectly and again I realised how gifted I was. I had a natural talent for shopping.

      Bob stood in front of the mirrors and eyed himself cautiously. ‘I like it, but it doesn’t feel like me.’

      ‘Will you miss the grubby old polo, Bob? Now try on the rest of the clothes. We’re running out of time.’ I shooed him back into the plush purple-carpeted changing room and decided I’d call Kylie, even though she was a no-good, gossiping liar, to see if she could fit Bob in for a mercy cut.

      ‘What now?’

      I decided to ignore her curtness and get straight to the point. ‘I have an emergency client for you. He has a date tonight and he can’t possibly go looking like the Bee Gees. The dead ones. Bad hair coupled with pallid and pasty skin, it’s not nice to look at.’

      ‘What? Who is he?’

      ‘Bob. A taxi driver I met today. Can you meet at my place?’

      ‘You want me to cut the hair of some random taxi driver you met today and you’re taking him to your house?’

      ‘God, when you say it like that it sounds creepy! Good point, though. Let’s meet at your house in half an hour.’

      ‘No, I’ll meet at yours. He’ll be the last client anyway.’

      ‘OK, if I’m not there on time just make yourself comfortab—’

      ‘Samantha, this is not a social experiment, just friggin’ get there on time!’ And with that, she hung up on me for the third time that day.

      I glanced over at Bob, who was still looking at himself sceptically in the full-length mirror. ‘C’mon, Bob, we’ve got another appointment. Grab the clothes and pay. I’ll meet you in the cab.’