This Time Next Year(57)
The lift opened onto the street and a girl was waiting there. She was tall with long blonde hair, impossibly bee-stung lips and large breasts on display. Clearly Quinn had a type – this woman was a bustier, younger version of Lucy Donohue. The girl’s eyes lit up when she saw Quinn, then she saw Minnie and her delicate features tensed in confusion.
‘Hi, Amanda?’ Quinn greeted her politely with a kiss on the cheek.
‘And this is …?’ Amanda asked in an airy voice, pointing a taut, unblinking smile at Minnie.
‘This is Minnie, she’s … ’ Quinn faltered.
‘I’m nobody, I’m the caterer.’
Quinn winced. Minnie stood between them and they both turned towards her. She was the third wheel, she needed to leave, but her feet were glued to the ground; she physically couldn’t make herself walk away.
‘Well, what would you like to do then?’ said Amanda, in a squeaky, youthful voice. She tilted her body away from Minnie, closer to Quinn. ‘There’s an Edward Hopper exhibition on around the corner that I thought we might go to?’
Minnie did a double take. Edward Hopper was the artist who painted Automat – he was Minnie’s favourite artist. She was impressed Amanda was a fan. That would teach her not to judge a book by its busty cover.
‘You like Edward Hopper?’ Quinn asked, in exactly the tone Minnie had been thinking it.
Amanda blushed, ‘Oh no, I don’t know who he is, but I saw in your profile he was on your list of interests. I thought maybe you could educate me?’ Amanda gave Quinn a flirtatious little smile.
‘I love Edward Hopper,’ Minnie chipped in without thinking. Amanda and Quinn both turned to look at her with what-are-you-still-doing-here expressions. ‘Sorry, I should go. Enjoy yourselves, kids, play safe, ha-ha.’
Minnie backed away with a little wave. That was excruciating. Why had she stayed standing there like that? Now all she wanted to do was go to that Edward Hopper exhibition herself to see if the original Automat was there. Clearly she could not do that because it would be weird and stalkerish to follow Quinn around on his Tinder date. Instead, she went back to the printing shop to pick up the present for Bev, back to her attic room full of boxes and a solitary print, back to her list of horrible jobs.
*
‘How was Hopper?’
Minnie lay in bed the next morning looking at the words she had typed out on her phone. Her thumb hovered over the send button. What was she doing? Why was she thinking about texting him? She was just curious to know what had happened with Amanda. Yesterday felt like watching the first half of a movie and then not having the chance to see how it ended. Was it that? No – there were plenty of movies she hadn’t seen the ending to, and it didn’t keep her awake at night.
It was the owls egging her on to text him. The predictable, undiscerning fluttery owls, which would have her embarrass herself in front of a totally unsuitable City boy like Quinn. Minnie pulled the duvet over her head and made a noise like a dying animal. What did she think he was going to say if she sent him a text asking about his date? ‘Oh, Amanda was awful, total bimbo, I wish I had gone with you instead – and you know when you poured your heart out to me about not wanting to compromise in love any more, about wanting someone to fuel the best version of yourself? Well, I want that guy to be me, how about it?’
Why was she even thinking about this? Minnie deleted the text. She wouldn’t text him. She’d just broken up with someone because she was finally starting to place more value on her self-worth. The last thing she needed right now was to fuel some self-esteem-crushing crush on a man like Quinn Hamilton.
New Year’s Eve 2007
‘So what’s this about?’ asked Will. ‘A guy with a fish fetish?’
‘No!’ cried Leila, reaching out to bash his shin with her forearm. She was sitting on the floor of the Coopers’ lounge, while Will sat, legs stretched out, in the cord brown armchair. ‘Splash! It’s an epic love story about star-crossed lovers who want to be together despite their differences – it’s very romantic.’
‘They’re different species, how’s that gonna work? If the mermaid’s got a tail surely she doesn’t have a … you know,’ said Will, grimacing.
‘Ignore him,’ said Minnie, ‘he’s seen it before. He’s just trying to show off ’cause you’re here.’ Minnie was perched on the edge of the sofa braiding Leila’s newly blue hair as she sat on the floor between her legs. Both girls were dressed in pyjama bottoms and scruffy T-shirts. ‘I saw you welling up over it last time.’
‘I haven’t seen it – it’s a chick flick,’ said Will, reaching out to flick Minnie behind her ear.
‘Ow!’ she squealed, batting away his hand.
‘Are you three going to sit there all night?’ asked Minnie’s dad, coming down the stairs and walking through to the living room. ‘It’s New Year’s Eve – you not got parties to go to?’
‘I’m going out now,’ said Will, jumping up, ‘there’s a gig in Kilburn.’
When Will stood up, Minnie noticed her brother was now taller than their father. Though he had a very different build, with his long, lanky legs, angular face and foppish brown hair.