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‘Not that well if you’re calling around to borrow cars at the last minute.’
‘And it’s so nice to know I can rely on you in an emergency.’
‘Everything’s an emergency, Min. Life’s an emergency. Do you know how many fish there are left in the sea? That’s a fucking emergency. We’re going to have to stop using the expression “plenty more fish in the sea”, because it’s factually inaccurate.’
Greg took his glasses off and pulled a lens wipe from the kitchen drawer. Minnie sat watching him. It had been comforting to see him last night, to cushion herself in his familiar bed, his familiar body and his familiar smell. This morning, nothing about Greg felt comforting or familiar; he felt alien and unknowable. As he cleaned his lenses she realised he’d hardly looked at her, barely made eye contact over breakfast, yet he was examining his lens with such fastidious attention. She stared straight at him, willing him to look up and really see her.
‘Anyway, all you need is a rich benefactor, or go back to working in restaurants like most chefs.’
He turned to his coffee machine and started sifting through the different-coloured capsules in the metal basket next to it.
‘Fucking Clive never replaces these, I mean hello, this isn’t a Travelodge, the coffee doesn’t come free with the room.’
Clive was Greg’s flatmate. He was forty-two and married. He split his time between London three nights a week, and his family home in Kent the rest of the time. From Minnie’s perspective it looked like an ideal situation for Greg – he got half his rent paid, yet Clive was hardly there.
‘If you break down the cost per pod and the number of pods he uses a month, do you know how much that works out as?’ Greg jabbed a finger against the kitchen counter.
Minnie nodded sympathetically, then realised he was waiting for an answer.
‘A tenner?’
‘Seven pounds twenty. I swear he wouldn’t even know where to buy replacements. You think they have coffee capsule shops in Kent? They do not.’
Greg picked up two green pods and shook them at Minnie. He slammed them both down on the counter and started scratching his short beard. ‘There’s only Fortissio Lungo left. I hate Fortissio Lungo – Cliveknowsthat. If you’re going to drink a man’s coffee, at least have the decency to drink the ones you know he doesn’t like. Right?’
Minnie nodded. Greg glanced at his Apple watch and made an impatient clicking sound with his tongue against his teeth.
‘Right, I’ve got to go, I’ll get a decent coffee on the way. Let yourself out?’
Minnie got the bus to work, buzzing with irritation. Was she expecting too much from Greg? She knew he had his ownpressures and concerns to deal with, but surely being with someone you loved should make both your life loads feel lighter. She was leaving his flat feeling heavier than ever. To be fair to him, she didn’t know if anyone would have been able to make her feel better about the day she had ahead – telling the others they were losing their jobs was never going to be easy.
As she walked through the door of No Hard Fillings, heard the familiar bell chime and breathed in the smell of pastry that clung to the air, she felt a stab of sadness. This might be one of the last times she heard that bell and smelt that comforting smell.
‘Minnie.’ Leila jumped out of the kitchen and started doing star jumps on the spot. She was wearing a bright pink boiler suit and neon-yellow-framed glasses. ‘Jump with me, Minnie!’
‘Is this some kind of money rain dance?’ said Minnie, shaking her head from side to side.
‘Do it, jump with me,’ Leila cried, reaching out to take Minnie’s hands and lifting them over her head.
‘OK, we’re jumping,’ said Minnie, shaking off Leila’s hands and joining in with the star jumps. ‘Is this a new fad – jump meetings? The endorphins make you feel better about the crap news you’ve got to deliver?’
‘The opposite,’ Leila grinned, ‘I’ve got great news: star-jump-worthy news!’
The bell chimed behind them and Bev pushed open the door to come in.
‘What the … ’ said Bev, the jowls on her neck wobbling in confusion.
‘Jump in Bev – join the jump,’ said Leila, clapping her hands in Bev’s direction and letting out a ‘whoop’. She was acting like some kind of deranged Jane Fonda.
‘No,’ said Bev, looking at them as though she’d discovered them dancing naked with a corpse dressed in a ra-ra skirt. ‘I … I’ll go and warm up the ovens.’
Bev sidestepped past without taking her eyes off them, as though if she turned her back, they might somehow involve her in their weird ritual. Leila and Minnie both giggled.
‘I’m not fit enough for this, you’d better get to it quick,’ said Minnie with a smile. That was the thing about Leila – even in the worst situations she could make Minnie smile.
‘We just had an order this morning,’ said Leila, stepping up the pace of the star jumps. ‘An enormous order, delivering pies to fifteen different offices this month.’
Minnie stopped dead in her tracks.
