This Time Next Year(86)

A trill noise suddenly rang out – the doorbell.

They froze. Her face whipped towards the door.

‘Is that mine?’ she said, breathlessly.

‘I think so,’ Quinn said, his voice hoarse, pained by the interruption.

‘I don’t know anyone here, it’s probably a wrong number. Ignore it.’

Quinn put his hands up to her face, cradling her chin between his palms – he drew her face gently towards his, their eyes locked and she felt this earth shifting moment of—

BBBBBBBRRRRRIIINNNNG, the doorbell again, then, ‘Hello? Minnie? You in there?’ Her mother’s voice.

The earth-shifting moment between them turned to panic, and they both leapt apart, searching around for their clothes.

‘What is she doing here?’ Minnie hissed. There was a rap on the door. ‘Maybe the bell’s broken,’ she heard her mother say.

‘I’m coming!’ Minnie yelled, ‘just on the loo.’

She gave Quinn an ‘oh my god, sorry’ look as she quickly pulled her top back over her head. She also tried to convey an ‘I’ll get rid of them and we can pick this up from right where we left off’ with her eyes, but that was a harder emotion to condense into an eye roll.

‘Hi,’ Minnie said, opening the door to find both her parents standing on the doorstep.

‘You are here,’ said her dad. ‘We saw you’d taken all your boxes while we were out and we thought you might need a hand settling in.’

Her mother bustled past her carrying bags of shopping.

‘I bought you some essentials. Can’t have you moving into a bare kitch … Oh.’ She held a hand to her chest in surprise when she saw Quinn emerging from the living room, his hair dishevelled.

‘Hi Mrs Cooper,’ Quinn, said, clearing his throat and raising a hand in greeting.

‘Quinn helped me move,’ Minnie explained.

‘I see,’ said her mother, turning to Minnie and staring at her with wide, bulging eyes.

‘We won’t get in the way,’ said Minnie’s dad. ‘We just didn’t want you to be on your own in a strange flat with no food in.’

‘Your father thought we should check out the neighbourhood. Not quite as nice as your last one, is it?’ said her mum.

‘This lock on the front door is no good; they always play up, these ones do. You got to have a double lock on a ground floor. Get your landlord to fix you a new one,’ said her dad, locking and unlocking the front door to demonstrate.

‘Aren’t these impractical,’ said her mum, eyeing up the tower of kitchen cupboards. ‘Now, we won’t stay, but I am gasping for a cuppa, have you got teabags unpacked yet?’

Minnie’s parents took themselves off to inspect the rest of the flat, while Minnie started scrabbling around in boxes looking for teabags.

‘Is this the whole of it?’ called her mum from the living room, then, ‘Sweet Jesus!’ as she walked into the bedroom. ‘Did someone die in here?’

‘You sure this is better than my clock room, Minnie Moo?’ called her dad.

Minnie carried a tray full of teas through to the sitting room. Her parents had made themselves comfortable on the sofa, while Quinn sat on the floor. As Minnie put the tray down on the coffee table, she noticed her black bra on the floor behind the door and tried to subtly scoot it beneath the sofa with her foot.

Minnie’s mother frowned at the tea that had been placed in front of her.

‘Use one bag between the four, did you? I suppose you’ll be making economies now you have to buy your own.’

Minnie’s father shifted uncomfortably on the sofa.

‘Not much room for two on here, is there?’ he said.

Minnie looked over at Quinn who shifted his gaze to the window.

‘Quinn, hasn’t your mother got that garden looking good lately? She’s a font of knowledge, that woman. Very green fingers, you must be pleased she’s out and about again?’ Minnie’s mother said proudly.

Minnie couldn’t read Quinn’s expression; he looked distant all of a sudden. His smile a polite veneer, painted over something unreadable.

‘Yes, you’ve been a very positive influence, Connie. It’s wonderful to see her out in the garden again, it genuinely calms her,’ he said, getting up from the floor. ‘Listen, I’m afraid I have to head off. It was nice to see you both.’

‘Don’t go,’ Minnie said, turning to face him and shaking her head, ‘you haven’t had your tea?’ She tried to convey with her eyes how much she definitely did not want him to leave. His eyes wouldn’t meet hers.

‘I don’t think the tea’s worth staying for, love,’ said her dad with a grimace.

‘I’m sorry, I have to be somewhere this afternoon. I’m glad I could help with the boxes,’ Quinn said, already in the corridor.

‘But your car?’

‘I’ll get it tomorrow,’ he said, already halfway out of the door.

‘Oh, I hope we didn’t chase him away?’ said her mother, as Minnie came back through to the living room.

Minnie felt her heart sink down through her chest and into her feet. Of all the ways that kiss could have played out, this was not high on the list of optimal outcomes.

‘Minnie Moo, I brought you a moving-in present,’ said her dad, picking up a carrier bag from the floor next to him. He pulled out a square box wrapped in bubble wrap and presented it to Minnie. She peeled back the plastic; it was one of his clocks, the one with the silver hands and the most annoying tock of all.