Page 33 of This Time Next Year


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‘There’s nothing we can do to hold them off?’ Minnie asked, squeezing her eyes tight shut. Was she really going to lose her flat and her business in the same week?

‘Minnie, I just can’t see a way through this,’ Leila said quietly. ‘Every month feels like the Pamplona bull run, just madly dashing to stay alive and not to get gored by some raging bank bull. I’ve tried not to stress you out with the funding side of things, but I just can’t hold up the dam any more.’

Minnie could hear the stress in her friend’s voice. Leila took on most of the company’s financial responsibilities. Minnie hated that it was her dream to run a baking business that had brought her best friend this low. ‘Listen, let’s just meet at the office on Monday and go through how we’re going to manage this. I can’t do anything more this week, I’ve got Ian’s sister’s wedding tomorrow.’

‘Should I call the others?’ asked Minnie. They only employed Bev, Alan and Fleur part-time, so no one would be in until Monday now.

‘No, I’d rather tell them the bad news together, once we know what’s happening. We’ve got pre-paid orders we need to deliver, so we need them to come in.’

Once Minnie had put the phone down, she looked around at the enormous living room she was sitting in; the luxuriously thick cream rug, the plush linen cushions in perfectly coordinated duck egg fabrics, the enormous ottoman coffee table with a shelf beneath full of exquisite, hardbacked coffee-table books. She heard Tara laughing in the kitchen.

‘Everything OK?’ Quinn said from the doorway to the living room.

‘I need to go home, I’m afraid,’ Minnie said, taking a slow breath in through her nose.

‘Really? I’ve just put the pie in,’ Quinn’s face fell.

‘I have to go,’ she said, ‘I can get the Tube.’

Minnie suddenly needed to be far away from Quinn. What was she even doing here? She knew it wasn’t his fault, that it was ridiculous to compare her life with his, but something about the fact that they’d started life on the same day, in the same place, just made her current situation feel all the more pathetic.

‘I’ll drive you,’ he said.

She shook her head, she could feel a flush creeping up her neck, the telltale sign that she was about to cry.

‘Has something happened? Is there anything I can do?’

‘Well, my business is bust and now I have to go to work on Monday and work out how to close it down, so no, there’s nothing you can do.’

Minnie dropped her eyes to the floor; she couldn’t look at him. Why had she told him that? She sensed him taking a step towards her, she felt he might be about to hug her. For a moment her body tingled in anticipation, hoping for him to put his arms around her. Then her body tensed, angry with herself for feeling this primal urge to be hugged. Besides, Quinn wasn’t even her boyfriend; if she wanted to sink into anyone’s arms (which she didn’t, there would be no pathetic arm-sinking), it should be Greg’s. Shit, she really needed to call Greg.

‘But your pies are great? People love them, surely there’s a way—’ Quinn started to talk but Minnie cut him off.

‘Yeah, but in the real world we have to take loans to start a business, loans with massive interest on them, and if we have a month with fewer orders or we have to buy a new door for the oven, then we don’t have much margin for error,’ Minnie said through gritted teeth. ‘It’s not like in your world where you just get money from your family to set up whatever business you like and probably never even deal with a bank. I mean, look at this place!’

Minnie flung out her arm to illustrate the point. In doing so she knocked over one of the china lamp-stands and it flew off the side table, smashing onto the floor. The room was silent. Minnie stared at the broken shards. The light bulb blinked, made a quiet fizzing sound, and then died.

‘Oh shit,’ Minnie said under her breath.

She looked up to see Quinn’s face had turned ghostly. Tara came running into the room. When she saw the lamp, she started hyperventilating.

‘Don’t touch it, don’t touch it, you’ll cut yourself!’ She started shaking her hands, her eyes bulging in panic. ‘Quinn, there’s broken china everywhere.’

In two swift strides Quinn was at her side, ‘It’s OK, I’m not going to touch it.’ He was talking to her in a strange tone, as though he was talking to a child. Tara was shaking, she covered her head in her hands and let out a strange panicked burst of cries. Quinn turned back to Minnie.

‘I think you’d better go,’ he said.

‘Don’t let her touch it!’ cried Tara. ‘Don’t touch it!’

‘She’s not going to touch it, Mum,’ said Quinn as he led the hunched figure of his mother out of the room. ‘Come on, I’ll take you upstairs.’

Minnie was left alone in the living room, frozen to the spot. What just happened? She’d shouted at Quinn, broken a really expensive-looking lamp and then Tara had totally lost it. Should she stay and clear up the mess? Offer to pay for it? Not that she had any money anyway. Why had she taken her anger out on Quinn like that? They’d been having such a great afternoon and she’d ruined it. She picked up her bag from the floor and quietly let herself out of the enormous front door.

5 January 2020

Minnie paused at the grey, paint-chipped front door of her parents’ house. She hugged the mustard-yellow woollen cape she was wearing around herself. The cape had been an ill-advised purchase from a charity shop last year; something Leila had persuaded her was a ‘must-have’ fashion item. Minnie had quickly concluded the cape made her look like a walking banana, which is why she’d only worn it two times (and one of those was to a fruit-themed fancy-dress party.) Now, since she’d lost her only coat and it was two degrees outside, the cape had, by necessity, been resurrected from the depths of her wardrobe.

She could hear the hum of noise inside the house, the ticking audible even from the doorstep. She took a moment to savour the quiet of the street. Since her brother Will had moved to Australia with his girlfriend, Minnie had tried to come home most Sundays to have a meal with her parents. She knew they missed having Will around, he had a way of being with them that felt easy. She couldn’t fill the hole his absence had created in the family dynamic, but she felt she was doing her bit by showing up every week.

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