Page 107 of This Time Next Year


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‘I’m calling it “Proposals by Fleur”,’ said Fleur, handing Minnie a pink business card. ‘I’m flying to Cairo next week, to produce a proposal in the tomb of Tutankhamen with loads of dead mummies running about. This guy wants to scare the shit out of his girlfriend and then pop the question. People are so weird.’

‘Wow, that’s so exciting, Fleur. I’m glad it’s all taken off. What about the dating site you were designing?’

‘Oh, it’s going to be a whole franchise, Minnie – this year we’re focusing on Proposals by Fleur, then we’ll do Dates by Fleur, Weddings by Fleur – who knows, I hear the funeral market is due a shake-up.’ Minnie laughed. ‘Oh, and my Instagram feed has now officially reached Influencer status, so let me know if you want me to do any influencing for you.’ Fleur turned to look at the dance floor. ‘Is this harmonica woman still going? Sorry, Minnie, I’m going to have to intervene.’

Minnie crept away from the dancing to have a moment alone. The last week had been intense. She’d only had the keys to this kitchen a week. And then, with Leila’s wedding venue falling through, she’d had to get everything set up and working in twenty-four hours. She didn’t even have staff yet, except Bev and Alan. She’d worked all night to get the space ready and pulled in a lot of favours from catering contacts to find people who would work last minute. Looking back across the room at everyone dancing and singing, she realised something; she had pulled it off. This industrial kitchen in Old Street wasn’t quite the romantic stately home that had been booked, but Leila was happy, and somethingabout doing it this way felt so perfect. Now, Minnie couldn’t imagine the wedding party being any other way.

Fleur, to her credit, had done an amazing job with the decorations. She had turned the kitchen into a winter wedding wonderland, full of fairy lights and garlands of silver bells strung up between the steel girders. Bev had sourced all the linen, crockery and chairs for dinner and Alan had spent the last few days picking up everything they needed in the new van. It was so good to see so many old friends, people she was going to start delivering to again as soon as next week.

Minnie stroked her hand along the jars lining the shelves, taking a moment to breathe in the familiar floury smell of her baking apron which hung ready on a peg. She turned the gooseneck tap on and off at the sink – she’d always wanted a gooseneck tap. She couldn’t believe this kitchen was hers and that in a few weeks’ time she’d be coordinating hundreds of pies a day being delivered all over London.

Bev clocked Minnie alone by the sink and came to stand beside her. They both had fifties hair and wore outfits that had ‘bridesmaid’ written up the side in italic gold writing. This had been Leila’s solution to the perennial problem of finding bridesmaid dresses that suited everyone.

‘Are you hiding from Fleur?’ Bev asked.

‘Kind of.’

Bev laughed. ‘I can’t believe we pulled this off.’

‘Me neither.’

‘And I can’t believe we’re going to be doing all this for real in a few weeks. Just like the good old days, hey?’

‘Except no Fleur, and no Leila,’ Minnie said, watching Leila throw some shapes on the makeshift dance floor, as the band started to play.

‘They’ll always be there,’ said Bev, putting her arm around Minnie’s shoulder. ‘Life is change – if nothing’s changing, you aren’t living.’

Minnie looked sideways at Bev. ‘That sounded profound.’

‘It did, didn’t it?’ Bev grinned. She looked down at the silver dress she was wearing, and at Minnie’s dark blue silk jumpsuit. ‘Do you think we can wear these again?’

‘Sure, we’ll have dress-down Fridays at work.’

‘Minnie, while I’ve got you here, I had an idea I wanted to mention,’ said Bev. ‘Do you remember that friend of Fleur’s who invented the seaweed packaging?’ Minnie nodded. ‘Well, Fleur got her along to one of my Pick Litter, Have a Witter groups. She’s an incredible woman; I think we should use her packaging for all our pies. Do our bit to be green, you know?’

Bev looked at Minnie nervously; this clearly meant a lot to her.

‘You know what, Bev,’ said Minnie, ‘I think that’s a wonderful idea. I think our clients will love it too.’

Bev beamed and started jumping up and down on the spot.

‘And can we do more jump meetings? Honestly, I think Leila was onto something, it really gets my brain jelly moving.’

The party went on all afternoon and into the evening. It only ended because Leila and Ian had to leave to get theEurostar to Paris that night. As Green Marmite played their last song, Leila found Minnie on the packed dance floor.

‘I’m going to wear my dress all the way to Paris,’ Leila said, pulling Minnie into a tight hug. ‘I’m not going to take it off until I’ve climbed to the top of the Eiffel tower tomorrow.’

‘I look forward to seeing the photos,’ said Minnie.

‘I wish you were coming too,’ Leila whispered, swaying slightly on her feet.

‘I’m sure Ian doesn’t,’ said Minnie.

‘This has been the best day ever, all thanks to you,’ Leila gushed. ‘I want you to be this happy, Minnie.’

‘I am happy,’ said Minnie.

‘I know you are,’ Leila paused, as though weighing her words. ‘Do you still think about love twin?’

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