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‘I suppose we can’t even salvage the fillings?’ she sighed, ‘Come on then, Bev, help me put these out of their misery.’
Ten minutes later, with the spoilt pies in the bin and the smell of burnt pastry still lingering in the air, everyone was in a more relaxed mood. They had a good production line going, with Alan and Minnie shaping pastry into new tins, while Beverley and Leila decapitated the burnt ones and disposed of their charred remains. Fleur had curated an uplifting nineties playlist and they were all, bar Alan, singing along to ‘Lady Marmalade’ as they worked. If Fleur was good at something, it was finding the right soundtrack to improve the collective mood.
‘So has Name Stealer been in touch yet?’ Leila asked as she and Minnie crossed paths at the sink. Leila was thawing, but Minnie knew she wasn’t yet forgiven for standing her up.
‘Who’s Name Stealer?’ asked Bev.
‘On New Year’s Eve, Minnie met this guy who was born in the same hospital as her at exactly the same time,’ Leila explained. ‘Isn’t that freaky?’
‘Well one minute earlier than me, if we’re being precise,’ said Minnie.
‘Minnie’s mum wanted to call her Quinn, but this dude’s mum stole her idea, so Minnie ended up Minnie instead,’ Leila explained.
‘Quinn Cooper,’ Fleur sounded the words out loud, ‘great name; Minnie Cooper is terrible. No offence.’
Minnie had run out of ingredients to pound so started rolling with a vengeance instead. Fleur turned the music down and placed a final pin into her hair. While the others had been working, Fleur had been crafting herself an elaborate hairstyle with neat fish plaits wrapping around each side of her head. She looked like a character fromGame of Thrones.
‘It’s very romantic,’ said Leila, ‘Minnie and her name nemesis, reunited after thirty years – love twins separated at birth, destined to find each other again despite the odds.’
She clutched a hand to her chest for dramatic effect. Everyone laughed, except Minnie.
‘What the hell’s a love twin? That’s not a thing,’ Minnie said, shaking her head. Behind her frown she was pleased; Leila teasing her meant she was forgiven.
‘That could so be a thing, like two Geminis getting together,’ said Fleur. ‘Did you give him your number?’
Dating was one of Fleur’s favourite topics of conversation. She was a connoisseur of every dating app out there. She said she was learning to code so she could set up her own horoscope-themed dating app.
‘I said he could find me online if he wanted to,’ Minnie said with an air of cultivated ambivalence. ‘I’m sure he won’t, why would he, he’s got a girlfriend … ’ Then after a pause sheadded, ‘And I’ve got a boyfriend. What are you doing with my phone?’ Minnie looked over to see Leila scrolling through her phone.
‘You changed your Facebook profile picture,’ said Leila, giving Minnie a sly grin. ‘Why would you do that? You never even go on Facebook.’
‘Well new year, new photo. I’m allowed to change my photo if I want to.’ Minnie blushed and turned her back to the room, hiding her face in the fridge as she pretended to look for something.
‘This isn’t a new photo, this is four years old. She’s changed it to one of her in India looking tanned and sexy,’ said Leila, showing the phone to Fleur.
‘Give that to me,’ said Minnie, turning around and striding across the kitchen with her hand outstretched.
‘You do look good in that photo,’ said Fleur, nodding approvingly. ‘If you want me to set you up an online dating profile, you should use that one. You look young, thin and a little bit stupid – guys like that.’
‘Thanks Fleur, but I am very happy with Greg,’ Minnie said huffily. She took the phone, purposely didn’t check it for messages, and placed it firmly into her apron pocket. Then she went back to busying herself lining tins. The others all stood watching her. ‘Come on guys, stop dicking around, we’ve got serious time pressure here if no one noticed. There are forty orders to be made, baked and delivered today, and if we don’t get them out, we don’t get paid, and if we don’t get paid, none of us will have jobs tomorrow, OK, so can we just … ’
Everyone was quiet. Beverley dropped a tin and it clanged to the floor, rattling around and around on the hard cream tiles. Minnie’s phone pinged loudly in her pocket. She caught Leila’s eye and then turned her back on the room as she checked it. She had a notification on Messenger from Quinn Hamilton. She clicked it open.
‘Minnie, I’m hoping this is you – the first of January girl. Can you call me? There’s something I’d like to discuss. Quinn.’ Then he’d linked his number in the message.
Minnie felt her cheeks flush with heat; he’d tracked her down. She felt relieved, as though the growing bubble of anticipation over whether or not he would be in touch had finally been burst.
‘Who’s that message from?’ Leila asked, her eyes locking onto Minnie like heat-seeking missiles, trained to identify the suspicious glow of embarrassment.
‘No one,’ Minnie said, thrusting her phone back into her apron pocket. ‘Come on, let’s get this batch in.’
Minnie clapped her hands together, creating a cloud of flour in the air and closing down Leila’s interrogation on the subject. Leila put the first tray of pies in the oven, Beverley sweated over the timer, and Alan went to pull the van around front in preparation for loading up the day’s deliveries. Fleur looked at her phone and took selfies of her new hairstyle with various filters.
‘Hey, Minnie, I forgot to say, I need next Tuesday off,’ said Fleur, still snapping away on her phone. ‘My cousin’s mates with Tarantino and he’s in London researching ghost stories on the Underground for some new movie idea. It’s what I didmy dissertation on, so I said I’d help him out, show him some of the spookiest sites. Mega-bore, I know.’ Fleur rolled her eyes skyward.
‘Fine,’ Minnie muttered. She didn’t have time to delve into one of Fleur’s fantasies today. Fleur had a habit of telling the most ridiculous tales about why she needed a day off. It was never simply, ‘I’ve got a dentist appointment.’
A few minutes later, Alan bounced back into the kitchen wringing his hands, his mouth twitching furiously.
