This Time Next Year(101)
‘Goodbye then, Minnie,’ he said, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.
She inhaled the smell of his neck, and the angry owls in her belly started to flap their wings and cry, ‘What have you done, Minnie? What have you done? Take every word of it back while you can!’
But she did not.
30 December 2020
Leila clinked her champagne glass with a fork and stood up to address the long trestle table of guests. She was wearing a wedding dress made of feathers and tulle. The dress had a fitted corset and a flowing skirt – it was a pretty conventional wedding dress design, if you ignored the huge feather shoulder pads thrusting upwards like some angelic Boudicca, preparing to charge into romantic battle.
‘I just wanted to say a few words,’ Leila said, ‘because it’s my wedding and I can do what I like.’ There were a few whoops and chuckles from the table. ‘First of all, I want to thank my husband … ’ Leila said it in that way brides do when they expect a cheer for simply using the word. The wedding guests obliged. ‘Ian has made me so happy these last four years – mainly because he lets me have all the cupboard space in our flat, and he knows never – ever ever – to wash any of my underwear at more than thirty degrees. He learnt that the hard way.’
Minnie was seated next to Leila at the table. She looked along the row of familiar faces laughing at Leila’s jokes. Dotted amongst Leila’s friends and family were all their regular customers from No Hard Fillings – Leila had invited them all. Fleur, Alan and Bev were there, so were the two Clares. Poor Bev was sandwiched between deaf old Mrs Harris and Terry Piper who suffered from dementia. Leila turned to look at Minnie as she went on with her speech.
‘But before I bang on about Ian, I have to talk about the other love of my life, my first wife – my Minnie.’ Everyone cheered. Minnie blushed and covered her face with a napkin. ‘Minnie, who has been my best friend since we met at summer camp when we were fifteen. The second I saw her on a bench eating the Penguin biscuit out of her packed lunch at nine o’clock in the morning, I knew we were going to be friends.’
Minnie lowered the napkin and shrugged as people laughed at her.
‘Minnie, who has been on so many adventures with me – to India with suspicious luggage … ’ Leila gave Minnie a wink and left a pause long enough to have Minnie worried she was about to launch into the Rampant Rabbit story in front of both sets of parents. ‘Adventures with pies – so many pies; adventures with men, I’m sorry to say so, Ian, but there were a few before you.’ Ian played along and gave a comical scowl. ‘But the biggest adventure of all has simply been being your friend.’ Leila turned back to Minnie with a tear in her eye. ‘I know there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for me. This is the woman who I called three days ago in tears, explaining that our wedding venue had been flooded. She only went and volunteered to cater the whole thing here in her brand-spanking-new kitchen, before she’d even worked out how to turn on the ridiculously high-tech ovens.’
Everyone cheered and clapped, there were whoops of ‘go Minnie!’ from around the table.
‘She saved the day, for someone else – as she always does. And I hope you’ll take this the right way,’ Leila looked pensive for a moment, gazing slightly off focus into her champagne glass, ‘if I steal a Cooper family adage to say – all this, these wonderful people here today, this amazing new business, this would never have happened to a Quinn Cooper. Some things are all Minnie, and I wouldn’t have you any other way.’
‘To Minnie!’ everyone cheered, raising their glasses high in the air.
*
Alan turned out to be surprisingly adept at the accordion. After dinner, he launched into a traditional Irish wedding dance and everyone helped push the tables back to make room for dancing. Mrs Mentis pulled out her harmonica to accompany him and a few guests started clapping along to the beat.
‘We do have a professional band waiting to play,’ Fleur said irritably, cocking her head at Minnie and then pouting in Alan’s direction. Clearly she was not a fan of accordion music. ‘I had to call in some serious favours to get this band in from Zurich. I don’t think you realise what a big deal it is for Green Marmite to play a private gig.’
‘Fleur, I need to hear more about your new business,’ said Minnie, putting an arm around her shoulder. ‘How is it going?’
Since the engagement video had gone viral, Fleur had been inundated with requests from people to help them stage their own elaborate proposals.
‘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.’