This Time Next Year(82)

When it rained she worried he wouldn’t come. Who went swimming in the rain? She went anyway and he was there; they were the only ones. She didn’t ask him about his love life again, and he didn’t ask about hers. Minnie purposely avoided the subject. Perhaps he was still seeing whoever she was, perhaps he was still dating pneumonic blondes from Tinder – she didn’t need to know. Talk of other people would taint the nature of their meet-ups. These Sunday mornings were bell jars full of precious conversation. Minnie didn’t want too much of the outside world getting in; she thought that he understood and felt the same.

‘And you talk about what?’ Leila asked.

‘Life, work, parents, books – everything. We joke around a lot, he’s quite philosophical; he’s so smart, such easy company. I feel like we could keep talking for hours and then the morning is suddenly over and it feels like no time at all.’

‘Uh-oh,’ said Leila, fanning herself with her programme.

‘Uh-oh what?’

‘Sounds like you in lurrve.’

‘No.’

Minnie shook her head, scrunching up her face as though squinting to see. On the catwalk a group of models wearing pink and beige army fatigues came hopping onto the stage.

‘What are they doing?’ asked Minnie.

‘They’re supposed to be flamingos, in military camo gear,’ said Leila, as if she was explaining the most obvious thing in the world. ‘’Cause we’re all fighting for survival, right, it’s just a different kind of war.’

Minnie nodded. She didn’t understand fashion but everyone else in the front row was looking immensely impressed.

‘I’m not in love with him, we just get on really well,’ she said.

Leila turned to look at her friend – a piercing, interrogatory look.

‘OK, I know that face,’ Leila frowned. ‘I’m being serious now. If you love your love twin and if he’s not interested in you in that way, then it’s only going to mean heartache for you, Min.’

Minnie made a ‘tsk’ sound and crossed her legs, bobbing her top foot rapidly up and down.

‘The other weird thing is that our mothers are spending all this time together. It’s like my mum’s taken on Tara as this project. She wants to fix her like my dad fixes his clocks. Every time I call home, Dad says she’s over there helping with the gardening or the shopping or something. It’s kind of sweet, I guess; I don’t think my mum’s ever had many friends.’

‘Right, answer these questions truthfully,’ said Leila, looking down at her programme as though she was finding the questions on the page. ‘Do you think about him when you go to bed at night?’

All the time – he was the first person she thought of when she woke up.

‘No, not every night. Occasionally,’ said Minnie.

Leila frowned. ‘Has anyone else asked you out in the last few months and you’ve said no because they’re not Quinn?’

‘No … well.’ Had she told Leila about that guy Tino from the catering firm? Shit, it was a trick question. ‘There was that one guy, but I said no because he had weird sideburns, not because of Quinn.’

‘Um, weird sideburns have not put you off before. OK, question three, would you be fine with it if he brought his girlfriend along to your little swim club?’

‘How do you know he has a girlfriend?’ Minnie bolted forward in her chair, leaning into her friend, ‘Have you seen him with someone?’ her voice sounded strangled and urgent.

Leila turned to her and moved her hands apart like a performer preparing to take a bow.

‘I rest my case.’ Then she quickly pointed a hand back at the catwalk. ‘Oh look, this is one of the most exciting designers – what do you think?’

On the catwalk were seven models each dressed in a different colour of the rainbow; they wore strange ballgowns that looked both rigid and graceful at the same time. ‘It’s all made out of plastic reclaimed from the sea,’ Leila explained.

‘Wow, incredible, Bev would approve,’ said Minnie. The dresses were genuinely spectacular, but she pulled her attention back to the conversation in hand. ‘Seriously, though, have you seen him with someone? I don’t care if you have.’

Leila turned to look closely at her friend.

‘Listen to what you’re saying. Look, you said yourself he’s a self-confessed commitment-phobe. For whatever reason he likes disposable relationships that don’t require him to give too much. Maybe he’s never been friends with a cool, interesting woman before, he doesn’t want to ruin things. Fuck me, this cape is hot,’ Leila pulled off the candyfloss cape and stowed it under her chair. ‘Does my look work without it?’

Leila might as well have been asking a camel what he thought of the political situation in Mozambique.

‘Totally works,’ Minnie said. ‘So you think Quinn might be biding his time?’

‘No, I think he’s having the best of both worlds. He gets to have these lovely soul-searching chats with you – no commitment or expectation; then he gets to shag Little Miss Tinder when he likes – no commitment or expectation. Win-win situation for him, lose-lose for you.’ Leila paused, reaching out to squeeze Minnie’s knee. ‘You’re a hot, fun, incredibly awesome woman. Don’t sell yourself short, Minnie, that’s all I’m saying.’