This Time Next Year(60)

‘I’d rather gnaw off my own feet, Leila.’ Minnie’s mother started clearing up around the girls as she talked, plumping cushions and picking up empty popcorn packets. ‘I tell you, what matters is a man who’ll work hard and who’ll stick around, a man who’ll never lay a hand on you in anger, and a man who won’t drink away his wages.’ She leant over and pulled the bottle of wine from the folds of the couch. ‘Buy your own bleeding wine, Minnie! Right, I’m going to find your father before he starts buying rounds for the whole pub again.’

She paused, hovering over Minnie. Her face softened. She reached out to touch Minnie’s hair, pushing it back behind Minnie’s ears in an uncharacteristic tactile gesture.

‘I guess you’ll be a grown-up when I see you next.’

‘Have fun, Mum,’ said Minnie, reaching up to squeeze her mother’s hands.

She moved Minnie’s hand back to the sofa and made a noncommittal ‘hmmm’ sound, before heading for the door.

Leila snuggled up next to Minnie on the couch.

‘Your mum’s funny,’ Leila said through a yawn, dropping her head onto Minnie’s shoulder. ‘You think she really feels like that about love and stuff?’

‘I dunno,’ said Minnie, ‘she’s married to my dad, he’s hardly your typical romantic hero, is he?’

They both giggled.

As they were weighing up what to watch next, Minnie’s phone began to ring. It was an unknown number.

‘Hello?’ she said cautiously.

‘Is that Minnie?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s Tony. From school.’

Tony Grinton, she recognised his voice. He was one of the popular boys in their year.

‘Tony Grinton’, she mouthed to Leila.

Why would Tony Grinton be calling her? Minnie sat behind him in maths. She’d come to know his neck better than she knew her own. He had this beautiful chestnut hair that fell just below his ears, the lowest part of his neck was shaved and there was this line where the stubble turned to thicker hair. She had spent a lot of maths classes wondering what it would feel like to run her hand across that stubble, up into his hair. Once, she’d picked up his phone for him when he’d dropped it on the floor. He’d said ‘thanks’.

‘Hi Tony!’ Minnie said in a high-pitched voice and then covered her mouth.

‘Leanne gave me your number. You’re in my maths class, right?’

Minnie could feel her eyes getting wider and wider as she tried to communicate her excitement to Leila. Leila was bouncing up and down on the sofa, silently clapping her hands together. Then she waved a hand at Minnie to hold the phone between them so she could hear too.

‘Well, I’ve got this maths problem I hoped you could help me with. You’re good at maths, right? Leanne said you wouldn’t mind.’ It was noisy in the background; it sounded like a party.

‘Sure,’ Minnie said, confused.

‘How many men can you fit in a Mini Cooper?’

She heard laughter on the line, other people listening in.

‘Twenty-eight is the record,’ shouted another male voice.

‘You want to be a record-breaker?’ Tony sang through grunting laughter.

‘Fuck off Tony!’ shouted Leila, grabbing the phone from Minnie and hanging up the call.

Minnie’s face fell. She should be used to being the butt of that joke by now, but it still hurt, especially when it came from someone like Tony.

‘Don’t let them get to you, Min, they’re such babies.’

Leila shook her head. Then her own phone pinged and she frowned as she looked at the message.

‘What is it?’ asked Minnie.

Leila turned the phone around. It was a picture of Dan Deaton, kissing Laura Crosby from the year below.

‘Who sent you that?’ Minnie asked.

She felt terrible. Leila would be at that party if it weren’t for her. Leila and Dan weren’t exclusive, but they’d kissed a few times and Minnie knew she liked him.

‘Fuck him, fuck all of them,’ Leila said, rubbing her eyes with her hands.

‘You know when I meet the right guy, and I mean a real man, not one of these dick nicks we’re at school with. When I meet the right man, he will believe in romance; he will get that it’s important. Life can’t just be about coupling up like yoghurts in a multi-pack. There’s got to be more to it, right?’

Leila looked at Minnie with wounded, puppy-dog eyes.

‘Sure,’ said Minnie, ‘don’t listen to my mum, she’s just old and bitter.’

‘And when the right man asks me to marry him, I expect him to deliver the fairy tale. I want unicorns, I want doves, I want the whole fucking Disney fest.’

‘Is your future husband gay?’ Minnie laughed.

‘Possibly,’ she said, the wounded look leaving her eyes.

Leila stood up and started prancing around the room, caught up in her vision for this future proposal. ‘He’ll ride into a field on a unicorn, dressed as a knight in shining armour, and there will be doves and mer-people and baby rabbits that sing like they do in Enchanted. There’ll be a massive picnic of all my favourite food, specifically Nutella pancakes, and there will be a giant blue princess dress for me to wear and I will put it on and reclaim the princess narrative and I will look visionary and he will say, “Leila, I love you, and if you want the fairy tale, I will give it to you.” And I will eat those Nutella pancakes in my fuck-off princess dress and I will say, “Fuck yeah!”’