This Time Next Year(104)
‘Kind of,’ she winced.
‘You know there have been studies, right? That bad luck happens to those who believe in it. If you still believe, what hope do I have of … ’
Then the line went dead.
‘Hello? Quinn?’
She jumped off the sofa. She tried calling back – it went straight to answerphone. What hope did he have of what? Had he changed his mind? Would he say he couldn’t be with someone who couldn’t leave the house like his mother?
Then Minnie knew what she had to do. She had to take off her owl pyjamas and get herself to Westminster Pier in less than fifty-nine minutes. She had to find Quinn Hamilton and prove that he did have a hope, that she knew the jinx wasn’t real. She had to tell him that she didn’t want to live in a suit of armour any more, whatever the risks might be. She might not say those exact words – they wouldn’t make much sense to anyone, but she could finesse the wording en route.
Minnie buzzed with excitement as she pulled open her wardrobe to find something to wear. Anything, anything, she didn’t have time to plan an outfit, any clothes would do. She picked up some jeans. Not those, they were too baggy for her now – in fact not jeans at all – what if it was a dressy boat party? She’d stick out if she went too casual. She only had a few smart tops and none of them went with the flowing blue trousers she liked that made her bum look good – gah! She did not have time for this. Anything, just put on anything, Minnie.
Four minutes later she was out of the door wearing three-quarter-length green Capri pants and a crocheted top she’d bought from a beach vendor in India. It was supposed to have another layer underneath it, so she threw on a neon exercise bra. Only when she got to the main road did she realise she’d have looked less ridiculous leaving the house in her pyjamas. She’d also failed to grab a coat and it was freezing outside.
The Underground would be the quickest route to Westminster. She ran along the pavement, her limbs flailing like a baby giraffe’s. Outside Willesden Tube station was a large white sign: ‘Transport For London regrets to inform you that due to an incredibly pungent sewage leak, the Jubilee Line is not in operation tonight. Happy New Year folks!’
Great. She carried on running to the bus stop; there was a bus in eleven minutes but she didn’t have eleven minutes to lose. She’d get a cab and blow the expense, but on New Year’s Eve she wouldn’t have a hope. Her Uber app said twelve minutes. Suddenly out of nowhere, like a mirage on wheels, a black cab with its light on drove around the corner. She sprinted up the street towards it, only to have a man ahead of her on the pavement flag it down moments before she got there.
‘Oh no! Oh please! I really need that cab,’ she said, breathless, catching up to the man as he opened the car door.
He turned to look at her and scowled. This was not how London worked – black cabs were first-come, first-served; they didn’t work on a ‘who needs it most’ basis. His look informed her that she wasn’t abiding by the rules.
‘If I don’t get to Westminster Pier in forty minutes, I’m going to miss proving to the man I love that I’ve changed. He’ll set sail and it will be too late!’
The man looked her up and down, taking in her outfit. He glanced at his watch then sighed, ‘I’m headed as far as Charing Cross – we can share and split the fare?’
‘Oh, thank you!’ Minnie clasped her hands together and jumped up and down on the spot before ducking into the cab after him.
The man was in his twenties, with dark curly hair that tumbled down from the top of his head but was cut short at both sides. He wore jewellery – rings of silver and gold on every finger.
‘So your fella’s in the navy, is he?’ asked her cab mate as the car pulled away from the kerb. ‘Funny time to set sail.’
Minnie looked confused for a minute, rewinding their conversation in her head.
‘Oh no, he’s not in the navy, he’s going on a boat party,’ she explained.
The man frowned. ‘You made it sound like he’d be at sea for months, like it had to be tonight?’
‘It does have to be tonight,’ said Minnie. ‘If I don’t show him I can go out on New Year’s Eve, he’ll think I still believe in the jinx, and then maybe he won’t be able to love someone like that, someone scared and superstitious—’
‘The jinx?’ asked the man.
Minnie shrugged and gave a little shake of her head. ‘Bad things seem to happen to me on New Year’s Eve, so I usually try not to go out.’
‘What kind of bad things?’ The man narrowed his eyes at her from the other side of the cab.
‘Nothing particular, it just feels like I’m unlucky this time of year. Logically, it must be coincidence or—’
Before she could finish her sentence, the cab jerked into the air, throwing her into the man’s lap. The car screeched to a halt with an alarming crunching sound.
‘Gah! Sorry, are you OK?’ Minnie asked, as she found herself sprawled against him.
‘Tyre’s blown,’ the cab driver shouted back to them. ‘Are you all right?’
They both made noises that they were. Minnie felt her skin getting warmer and warmer as she realised the man’s rings were attached to her, an insect caught in her weird webbing top. They climbed out of the cab in conjoined crab-like unison and Minnie tried to untangle herself with as much dignity as possible.