This Time Next Year(62)

‘That’s what a tombstone does,’ said Alan, shaking his head.

‘No, it’s because you said you were upset in the shower, about the shampoo bottle lasting longer than you!’ Minnie looked back and forth between her friends.

Fleur’s mouth contorted into a wide grimace, her eyes silently asking, ‘What the hell were you thinking?’

‘Socks and Brian Cox, is that all anyone’s ever going to remember me for? And look how old I look in this photo? Do I really have that many chins?’ Bev rested her head on the countertop, sniffing back tears.

This wasn’t how that was supposed to go. Minnie had meant to cheer Bev up. How did she manage to get things so wrong sometimes? The bell above the door chimed in reception and then Leila appeared at the kitchen door.

‘What’s going on?’ she asked as she saw Bev crying and Fleur and Alan looking pained and pensive. ‘Oh great, you told them already. Minnie, I thought we said we wouldn’t say anything until we’d worked out a plan together?’

‘Told us what?’ asked Fleur.

‘Is this about the cheese graters?’ asked Alan. Every-one turned to look at him. ‘OK, it’s not about the cheese graters.’

‘I didn’t say anything,’ said Minnie. ‘Bev’s upset about something else.’

‘Bev’s always upset,’ Fleur said.

They all stood in silence for a moment. Alan slowly removed the list that was sitting on the countertop in front of them. Leila gave him a questioning look.

‘My uncle needs an operation,’ Alan said with a wink.

‘Well, I’m sorry to hear that, and I’m sorry you are all so upset about it. Minnie, can we talk in private?’ Leila said, beckoning her through to the reception area and then shutting the door behind them.

‘You OK?’ Minnie asked. ‘What’s wrong?’

Leila looked stressed and thin, her hair scraped back in a nondescript bun. She wasn’t wearing any of her usual colour – just grey sweatpants and a mauve hoodie.

‘The bank won’t extend our loan. I can’t bridge the gap until our funding comes through.’ Leila hugged her arms around herself. ‘I’m sorry, Minnie, I thought I could fix it.’

Minnie watched her friend. She gave a slow sigh.

‘Maybe we could go back to that list of Quinn’s clients we delivered to. He seemed to think they’d all order from us again. It might tide us over,’ said Minnie, scratching her nose between thumb and forefinger.

‘OK,’ said Leila nodding. ‘So we cater corporates for a few months until the charity funding comes through and regular orders pick up.’

Minnie watched her friend try to paste on a smile, to look enthusiastic about this new plan. Minnie knew this was her opportunity to give Leila a get-out.

‘I don’t think we want to do that though, do we?’ Minnie watched her friend closely for a reaction. ‘It was supposed to be fun running a business together, and it’s not much fun any more, is it? If we can only survive by baking for city boys, I might as well go back to working in restaurants and earn more. As for you, if you’re going to have this level of stress, it might as well be for something you’re genuinely passionate about.’ She paused. ‘Ian mentioned the fashion job.’

Leila looked up, surprised. ‘I wasn’t planning to take it!’ Leila threw her head back and closed her eyes.

‘I didn’t think you would. I’m just saying, maybe we’ve come to the end of the road here. Maybe fate is trying to tell us something.’

Leila sat down on the little bench by the front door and hung her head in her hands. Did she look relieved? Minnie hoped she looked relieved. Then Leila looked up at Minnie with a scowl – it wasn’t a relieved kind of scowl.

‘So that’s it then?’ Leila shook her head. ‘Fate doesn’t want it to work so we’re done? I’ve poured four years of my life into this place, into building this business. There’s a way to save it and you don’t want to try?’

‘No, no, I just don’t think it’s what we want!’ cried Minnie.

‘You’ve decided it’s not what you want. You haven’t even asked me! You think I’m not passionate about this? This whole business was my idea, in case you’ve forgotten.’

‘Where’s all this coming from?’ said Minnie, her brow knitting in consternation.

‘I do all the shit stuff,’ said Leila, throwing her hands in the air. ‘I deal with the banks, I fill out all the funding applications. You’ve never offered to help with any of that side of it.’

‘I have! I didn’t think you wanted my help. You just took control of it.’ She was shaking her head, confused by Leila’s reaction.

‘So I’m controlling now, am I?’

Minnie reached out to touch her friend’s arm; she didn’t know how this had escalated so quickly into an argument. She softened her voice.

‘Leila, listen to yourself. You need to start sleeping again, to … I’m sorry but you look terrible. This isn’t good for either of us, this level of stress, and I don’t want you to be here just because of me.’

Leila got to her feet. ‘Don’t tell me what I need. I’ve been slogging my guts out to make this work and now you’re all “oh well, if it’s not meant to be I’ll just sack it off and go back to waiting tables.”’