This Time Next Year(95)

‘Yeah, I’m coming,’ she said, her voice coming out at a peculiar pitch. Minnie quickly stuffed everything back into the folder and returned it to the shelf.

‘Heaven’s pyjamas, this is a hell of a cake, love,’ said her dad, as they all sat on the back step with thick slices of fruitcake.

‘Thanks. I put extra cherries in, just the way you like it, Dad,’ said Minnie, then she turned to look at her mother, her eyes flushed with affection.

‘What you looking at me like that for?’ her mother asked suspiciously.

‘Nothing.’ Minnie smiled, reaching out to squeeze her mum’s hand. ‘It’s just nice being here with you both.’

‘Well, I’ll say this is one of your best, Minnie. Do you miss baking all day?’ asked her mum, collecting crumbs in her palm as she took another bite.

‘Yeah I do,’ Minnie said wistfully. ‘I miss baking, but I miss my customers more. I had a day off last week so I popped up to the social club to see everyone. Old Mavis Mahoney died; I didn’t even know she was ill.’

‘Well, at least she had a good innings. A woman on my ward died yesterday, she was twenty-four, poor love. Life’s a precious gift, there’s no time to waste in regrets.’

Minnie’s dad choked on his piece of cake.

‘You’ve changed your tune, Con,’ he coughed. ‘What’s come over you?’

‘She’s “gardening her way through anxiety”, Dad,’ said Minnie, sucking her cheeks together to stop herself from smiling.

Her dad laughed.

‘Next thing she’ll be saying she’s off on some yoga camp to have her Jackras cleansed.’

‘Chakras,’ said her mum with a smile, making a meditational pose and clasping her hands together in prayer.

‘Oh, here we go,’ said her dad, shaking his head. ‘Well, I’m not sold on this new “no time for regrets” woman. I thought you had a list of regrets tattooed to the inside of your eyeballs, Con? Marrying me being top of the list.’

‘No,’ her mum shook her head, and let out a sigh. ‘Best thing I ever did, Bill – you and my kids. I wouldn’t change you for the world.’

Minnie’s parents both reached out to squeeze each other’s hand.

Minnie looked back and forth between them. She couldn’t remember a time they’d been like this: teasing each other, laughing, being affectionate. As a teenager Minnie thought adult conversation revolved around lists; one person would list the jobs they had done, then list the jobs the other had not done. If her dad laughed, her mum would snipe at him for making light of something. When her mum finally got to sitting down in the evening, her dad would choose that moment to go and start some crucial piece of clock maintenance. She had rarely witnessed this kind of companionship between them. It was as if her mother had taken the antidote to some bitter pill she’d been swallowing all her life.

Maybe this was what her parents’ relationship had been like before they had children? Maybe the stresses of family life had knocked the love out for a while. Last time she was here, she saw her mum rub her dad’s back when she was standing in the kitchen next to him – Minnie had never seen her do that in thirty years.

‘Anything you regret, Minnie Moo, or are you going in for this “no regrets” way of thinking?’ her dad asked.

‘I regret you calling me Minnie bloody Cooper,’ Minnie said, elbowing her dad gently in the ribs.

‘Oi, I still say you’ll get a sponsorship deal off them one day.’

Minnie looked up at the clear blue September sky and thought for a moment.

‘I guess I regret giving up on No Hard Fillings like I did.’

‘You had your reasons. I’m sure you did the right thing, love,’ said her mum.

Minnie wasn’t used to this reassuring, sympathetic version of her mother. She did a double take, looking over at her, turning to her dad and then looking back again.

‘Are you sure she’s hasn’t got a brain tumour or something?’ she said to her dad in a stage whisper. ‘She doesn’t seem like herself.’

Her dad shook his head in mock solemnity. ‘My working theory is alien body snatchers.’

‘Oh, shut it you two,’ said her mum, swiping an arm in their direction.

‘Seriously though,’ said Minnie, ‘I think I was too quick to give it up. I even thought of an idea for how I could make the finances work without needing funding from charities. It’s no good thinking of these things six months too late though, is it?’

Minnie had been in the chemist buying shampoo when she’d had the idea. There was a ‘buy one get one free’ offer on haircare products. It reminded her of a silly pun Greg had pitched for the business last year – Pie One Get One Free. Then it hit her – what if she got the corporates to fund the pies for those in need? For every pie they bought for themselves, they’d buy another one for someone in the community who needed it. Businesses were always looking for ways to bolster their corporate responsibility, right?

She’d been frozen to the spot in the aisle, with Coconut Bliss in one hand and Passion-Fruit Explosion in the other. She’d felt that fizz of excitement that only comes with a genuinely good idea. Then she remembered the minor obstacle to enacting this genius plan; she’d dismantled the business, sold all her equipment and given up the kitchen lease. Even if she wanted to, she’d never get another loan to start all over again.