I follow Nick to the bar which is at the opposite end of the room and he only stops momentarily to greet a few other guests who walk in. As he does, I look around the room, which is a fairly non-descript function room with low lighting, tables and chairs pushed to one side and a space in front of a DJ booth set up as a dance floor. It’s only when I see Aisha and Mina standing next to the wall diagonally opposite where I’m standing that I realise I was looking for her.
What I see does little to reassure me that this evening is going to be the fun evening I have been looking forward to an irrational amount all week. Mina still looks like someone has just slapped her across the face with a rotten fish, and Aisha is practically wagging her finger at her sister. I know it’s far from true that I know everything about Mina, but I feel I know enough to recognise that Mina is not going to be taking whatever lecture Aisha is giving her well. And why do I have this burning urge to march over there and try to take Mina away from it all, to help her escape? To rescue her?
Jesus, Mina would not approve of me thinking that way.
I need that drink.
Luckily, Nick hasn’t forgotten his offer and he continues to lead us to the bar that is all but empty. He asks me what I want but I subsequently insist on buying him a drink, what with this being his engagement party and there follows a quick argument about who is going to shout who in which we are both doing our best bumbling Hugh Grant impressions. Nick eventually concedes and I order both of us a beer which we both take eager sips from when they’re placed in front of us, because of course if we’re drinking, we’re not forced to make awkward small talk.
“Jesus, Aisha’s really going off at her,” Nick says as his eyes find Mina and his fiancée. We step away from the bar and both stare at the two sisters across the room.
“Yep,” I say with a slight wince because Mina now has her arms folded across her chest and Aisha is still pointing her finger at her older sister.
“Talk me through what’s happening here,” I request.
Nick clears his throat. “Right, well, Aisha’s got herself all worked up about tonight – she’s been planning it for months, years, really if you think about how long she’s wanted to get married – so I’m pretty sure she’s currently telling Mina that dealing with a moody older sister was not on her to-do list for her engagement party.”
I nod, perfectly able to see that. I watch as Mina starts to speak from under a heavy brow. “And Mina is now telling Aisha that her mood has got nothing to do with this being her, I mean,yourparty.” I gesture to Nick with my drink and he lifts his glass in response.
“And so Aisha now wants to know what’s got Mina’s knickers in a twist,” Nick continues. “No offence to Mina, you understand. I love the girl to bits but sometimes things do twist her knickers the wrong way.”
“On Mina’s behalf, I will say none taken. I get the sense that Mina is only too aware of what other people think about her,” I say and although I meant to say it as a compliment to Mina’s self-awareness, by the time I’ve finished the sentence I find myself not only worrying if Nick reads it a different way and I also feel a wave of deep sadness for Mina, that she carries this with her day in and day out. An urge to rush to Mina’s defence rushes up and out of me. “Of course, people can also be complete shitbags. Maybe Mina shouldn’t need to explain what’s twisting her knickers, so to speak.”
I really have to stop thinking about Mina’s underwear, twisted or otherwise.
Nick considers this for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right. But it looks like she is explaining something to Aisha.” He nods back at the sisters and I see their body language has completely changed. Mina’s arms are unfolded and her shoulders hang low, while Aisha has stepped closer and has one of her hands on Mina’s upper arm. “What do you think she’s saying?” Nick asks, sounding genuinely curious, caring perhaps.
I chew on my lip for a few seconds. “I think it’s about Hannah. I think it’s thrown her more than she realised seeing Hannah here with Sally. I think Mina’s torn between wanting to be here for her sister but also wanting to be a million miles away so she doesn’t have to see them together.”
Once the words have left my mouth, they make even more sense than they did in my head. Of course, that’s what’s happening. She hasn’t seen Hannah since she moved out and it’s thrown her. Maybe all manner of feelings have flooded her – nostalgia, heartbreak, regret – and she’s got no time or space to process them. Just because I emotionally moved on from Markus quickly, due in a huge part to the fact we should have broken up a long time before we actually did, that doesn’t mean Mina’s the same. It can take months and months, if not years to get over somebody.
And fuck me if this realisation doesn’t sting a little. No, not a little. Quite a lot. It hurts. It stabs. It aches. It shouldn’t, but it does.
It’s not like I have spent the last week expecting us to pick up where we left off in the cloakroom at my mother’s party, but it would be a lie to say I’d not allowed myself a few daydreams, a few fantasies which involved more of my face between Mina’s thighs and her issuing orders from above me, telling me exactly how to give her pleasure.
But if tonight all she’s feeling is sorrow for her previous relationship, if all she’s realising is how much she misses Hannah, and if all she wants to do is feel better rather than heartbroken, then I’m going to happily leave all those fantasies as exactly that, fantasy. And I’m going to do what I can to help her feel better, ideally with a waltz or two, and maybe if the evening calls for it, some head-banging too.
This decided, I am eager to get back to Mina to execute my plan immediately when I realise Nick is talking, possibly has been for a while.
“…I mean, I really thought they were the real deal. They got serious pretty quick, moving in together after, like, three months or something but Aisha just told me that’s the lesbian way so what do I know?”
“But Mina isn’t a lesbian.” I hear myself interject.
“Oh, yeah. Shit, I always forget that.” Nick only looks marginally regretful about his mistake. “But either way, they were really into each other. Couldn’t keep their hands off each other. That type of thing. It was nice seeing Mina like that, you know, a bit softer, more smiley. A little enthusiastic and upbeat about something.”
My back straightens and I can’t tell if the tension I feel in my shoulders is because what Nick is saying confirms what I assumed about Mina likely not yet being over Hannah, or if it’s because I have this defiant urge to come to Mina’s defence again.
I think about the few years I’ve worked with Mina but always at a distance. And I think about the week we’ve just had working together, much closer.
“I actually think she can be very upbeat, when it’s something she cares about,” I say, remembering how quickly her hand moved when she was drafting sketches for our draft pitch, but how slowly her fingers then worked when it was time to perfect them for the pitch deck. I think about how broad and genuine her smile was when we listened toLet Love Rulefor the first time together after agreeing this would be our campaign’s tagline. Far too easily, I can recall how by the time the song ended I was playing fake drums and she was fully committed to playing air guitar and both of us were head-banging just like we had last weekend.
Nick’s eyes look to the side as he seems to give this some thought. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. She isn’t always miserable.”
“She’s far from miserable.”
Nick’s gaze returns to me and it has more of a studious air now. “Are you sure you’re just here as a fake date?”
Ah, so he knows the deal. I can’t say exactly why but Nick knowing this is not a real date, and the way that likely means Aisha and others do too, feels like a sprinkling of salt in the wound that is knowing Mina isn’t interested in me in the way I would like her to be.
