This Time Next Year

by Sophie Cousens

  Minnie backed away with a little wave. That was excruciating. Why had she stayed standing there like that? Now all she wanted to do was go to that Edward Hopper exhibition herself to see if the original Automat was there. Clearly she could not do that because it would be weird and stalkerish to follow Quinn around on his Tinder date. Instead, she went back to the printing shop to pick up the present for Bev, back to her attic room full of boxes and a solitary print, back to her list of horrible jobs.

  How was Hopper?

  Minnie lay in bed the next morning looking at the words she had typed out on her phone. Her thumb hovered over the send button. What was she doing? Why was she thinking about texting him? She was just curious to know what had happened with Amanda. Yesterday felt like watching the first half of a movie and then not having the chance to see how it ended. Was it that? No—there were plenty of movies she hadn’t seen the ending to, and it didn’t keep her awake at night.

  It was the owls egging her on to text him. The predictable, undiscerning fluttery owls, which would have her embarrass herself in front of a totally unsuitable City boy like Quinn. Minnie pulled the duvet over her head and made a noise like a dying animal. What did she think he was going to say if she sent him a text asking about his date? “Oh, Amanda was awful, total bimbo, I wish I had gone with you instead—and you know when you poured your heart out to me about not wanting to compromise in love anymore, about wanting someone to fuel the best version of yourself? Well, I want that guy to be me, how about it?”

  Why was she even thinking about this? Minnie deleted the text. She wouldn’t text him. She’d just broken up with someone because she was finally starting to place more value on her self-worth. The last thing she needed right now was to fuel some self-esteem-crushing crush on a man like Quinn Hamilton.

  New Year’s Eve 2007

  “So what’s this about?” asked Will. “A guy with a fish fetish?”

  “No!” cried Leila, reaching out to bash his shin with her forearm. She was sitting on the floor of the Coopers’ lounge, while Will sat, legs stretched out, in the cord brown armchair. “Splash! It’s an epic love story about star-crossed lovers who want to be together despite their differences—it’s very romantic.”

  “They’re different species, how’s that gonna work? If the mermaid’s got a tail surely she doesn’t have a . . . you know,” said Will, grimacing.

  “Ignore him,” said Minnie, “he’s seen it before. He’s just trying to show off ’cause you’re here.” Minnie was perched on the edge of the sofa braiding Leila’s newly blue hair as she sat on the floor between her legs. Both girls were dressed in pajama bottoms and scruffy T-shirts. “I saw you welling up over it last time.”

  “I haven’t seen it—it’s a chick flick,” said Will, reaching out to flick Minnie behind her ear.

  “Ow!” she squealed, batting away his hand.

  “Are you three going to sit there all night?” asked Minnie’s dad, coming down the stairs and walking through to the living room. “It’s New Year’s Eve—you not got parties to go to?”

  “I’m going out now,” said Will, jumping up. “There’s a gig in Kilburn.”

  When Will stood up, Minnie noticed her brother was now taller than their father. Though he had a very different build, with his long, lanky legs, angular face, and foppish brown hair.

  “Take the girls too, why don’t you?” said their dad, elbowing Will in the ribs.

  “I’m not her babysitter anymore. And they’re underage, they might not get in,” said Will, walking into the hall to put on his coat.

  “We don’t want to go to your lame party anyway,” Minnie called after him.

  “OK, well enjoy your fishy fanny film, losers!” Will called as he shut the front door behind him.

  “Two seventeen-year-old girls with no New Year’s Eve parties to go to. What dimension have I walked into?” said her dad, shaking his head.

  “The jinx is less likely to get me if I’m home doing nothing,” Minnie explained. “Leila’s keeping me company.”

  “Pfff.” Her dad laughed. “So you’re never going to leave the house at New Year again, are you?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  “Parties are overrated,” said Leila. “Movie marathons and Ben & Jerry’s are where the cool kids are at these days, Mr. C.”

  “Well, I’m going down the pub. Big year to celebrate,” said her dad, leaning over to search the folds of the brown armchair. “The year 2008 is going to be the one we Coopers make our fortune.”

  “Dad’s building a property empire,” Minnie explained. “Thinks he’s going to be the next Donald Trump.”

  Her dad grinned as he pulled his house keys out from the depths of the armchair.

  “You watch this space, girls—we Coopers are going up in the world.”

  “Ooh, let me ask you before you go, Mr. C—where do you want to be this time next year?” Leila asked, clapping her hands together.

  “This time next year?” Minnie’s dad said, rubbing his chin between his thumb and forefinger thoughtfully. “Well, I’d have a new home office for my property business, one for my clocks, and another one for miscellaneous odds and sods.”

  “It’s supposed to be realistic, Dad,” said Minnie.

  “OK, then I’d settle for losing two stone so I can see my toes again in the shower,” he said, letting out a cackling belly laugh.

  “Dad! Gross!” squealed Minnie. “I don’t need that image in my mind!”

  “I’m going, I’m going.” He marched back through to the hall, still chuckling to himself. “Now, I’ve told your ma to come and join us when she gets in. You sure you girls can’t be persuaded? Drinks are on me tonight. Only after midnight for Minnie, mind. I can’t be seen supplying alcohol to a minor,” he said with a wink as he pulled on his coat.

  “We’re good, thanks, Mr. C,” said Leila.

  Once her dad had gone, Minnie pulled the wine bottle out from beneath the sofa. Her parents didn’t really mind her drinking alcohol; they only minded her drinking their alcohol.

  “I’m sorry, but now your dad and brother have gone, can I just say, what the fuck is with the clocks?” Leila asked, hands flying outward as though she were about to break into a dance routine.

  “I know.”

  “The noise is so annoying.”

  “You get used to it.”

  “Are your parents like, obsessed with knowing the time or something?”

  “My dad likes fixing old clocks.”

  “I feel like I’m on a game show and the time is ticking down and someone’s about to ask me what the Countdown Conundrum is and I’ve got nothing, nothing, I tell you.” Leila lolled her head back into Minnie’s lap and looked up at her face.

  “Half the clocks don’t even tell the right time. Dad can’t keep up with winding them all.”

  “Don’t ever bring a guy back here, Min, they’d freak out.”

  Minnie secured the end of the braid she’d been working on with a tiny elastic band.

  “I’m hardly likely to bring a guy back here, am I?” Minnie paused. “You sure you don’t mind staying in with me, Leils? I don’t want you to miss out on Steve’s party because of me. We know Dan Deaton’s going to be there.”

  Minnie picked up another piece of blue hair from the front of Leila’s scalp. She was beginning to regret how small she was doing these plaits. She’d started half an hour ago and was only a quarter of the way up one side of Leila’s head.

  “Nah, if Dan Deaton liked me last week he’ll like me next week too. No New Year’s Eve party’s going to change that.” Leila shrugged. “Plus, my hair’s only half done and we’ve got all these films to watch: Pretty Woman, The Princess Bride . . . what a lineup.”

  “But I’ll feel bad if Dan Deaton gets off with Hester at that party. You know she’s into him, and with all the magic of
fireworks at midnight he might forget how much hotter you are than her?”

  Leila pulled her head around to face her friend, making Minnie drop the braid she was working on. “Do you want me to stay in and watch movies with you or not?”

  Minnie shifted her eyes from side to side as though considering her answer. “Yes.”

  “Then stop winding me up about Dan! Honestly, if his head gets turned by a few fireworks, a couple of beers, and Hester Finley in a short skirt, then he wasn’t worth having in the first place, was he?”

  Leila shook her head, exhaled loudly, and turned back to the TV.

  “Are you sure you want these braids like cornrows? You can see a lot of your scalp this way,” Minnie asked, biting her lip in concentration as she tried to pick up the pieces of the plait she had dropped.

  “My head’s a good shape, I can pull it off.”

  When Minnie’s mother came in they were still watching Splash. They had just reached the part where Tom Hanks realizes something fishy is going on with Daryl Hannah’s legs.

  “A little help, please!” her mum shouted from the front door.

  Leila and Minnie jumped up. Minnie’s mother was carrying bags full of shopping balanced in both arms and had a fistful of post she’d scooped up from the mat.

  “What’s all this, Mum?” Minnie asked, peering into a carrier bag.

  “Your birthday lunch, isn’t it. All the shops are going to be closed tomorrow so I need something to feed everyone.” Minnie’s mother dropped the bags onto the floor and started flicking through the pile of letters in her hand. She made a nervous clicking noise with her tongue.

  “What’s wrong?” Minnie asked.

  “Nothing, just with your dad’s new ventures I can hardly keep track of these bills.”

  “We’ll take these for you, Mrs. C,” said Leila, picking up the bags and carrying them through to the kitchen.

  “I said I didn’t need any fuss for my birthday,” Minnie said quietly, picking up the last two bags from the doorstop. “You’ve got enough on your plate, Mum.”

  “Your brother’s bringing his new girlfriend over tomorrow. I’m not presenting her with Christmas leftovers. We want to make a good impression.”

  Her mother followed Leila through to the kitchen and sank into a chair. She pressed the pile of bills onto the table, closed her eyes, and squeezed the top of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.

  “Have you got one of your headaches again? You need to take it easy, Mum.”

  “I’m fine, don’t make a fuss, Minnie.”

  Minnie began to pull quiches and pre-packaged sausage rolls out of the shopping bags, while Leila started opening cupboards to see where things might go.

  “And what have you gone and done to your lovely hair, Leila? You look like Christin Aquila Area.”

  “Christina Aguilera, Mum,” said Minnie.

  “Well, you won’t get lost in a crowd, will you? Come on now, back to your own plans, whatever party you’re out to.”

  “We’re staying in,” said Minnie.

  “Hiding from the jinx,” said Leila, putting an empty shopping bag over her head. Minnie laughed and pulled the bag off her friend’s head. Leila squealed. “It got me! It got me!”

  “Don’t joke, girl,” said Minnie’s mother, “you haven’t known this one long enough to know the truth of it. Do you know that song by Albert King, ‘Born Under a Bad Sign’? I always think of that as the soundtrack to Minnie’s birthday.”

  Minnie’s mother started moving seamlessly around the kitchen, putting food away in cupboards, humming the song to herself.

  “Oh, well that reminds me, I got you something,” said Leila, running back through to the living room. She returned with a small square package of gold tissue paper, which she handed to Minnie. Minnie opened it with a puzzled look.

  “It’s not my birthday just yet.”

  “I thought you might need it now,” said Leila. Minnie unwrapped the paper to find a delicate silver necklace with a four-leaf-clover pendant. “To counteract any bad luck,” Leila explained.

  “I love it, Leila, thank you!” Minnie cried, flinging her arms around her friend.

  “It’s a nice idea, but it might take more than jewelry, Leila,” said Minnie’s mother.

  “Oh, Mrs. C, since you’re here, I’ve got to ask you now—where do you want to be this time next year?” said Leila.

  “Excuse me?”

  “She asks everyone at New Year.” Minnie shrugged.

  Minnie’s mum shook her head, then looked pensive. “If I’m no worse off than I am now, I’ll be happy,” she said.

  “Oh, Mrs. C, you’ve got to dream a little bigger!” said Leila, spinning around on the spot.

  “Dreams are for sleep, Leila,” she said, tapping Leila on the head with a bag of spaghetti.

  Minnie and Leila settled back down to watch the end of their film. Once Minnie’s mother had finished in the kitchen, she came through to the lounge. Minnie and Leila were both in tears at the ending.

  “What are you two blubbing about?” she asked.

  “Oh, it’s so romantic, Mrs. C. He gives up life on land to be with the love of his life underwater,” said Leila, her face streaming with tears. She reached out to take a tissue from the side table.

  “Honestly, you lot and your romantic notions,” tutted her mother. She picked up the pile of DVDs they’d lined up and started shaking her head as she looked through the titles. “Fairy tales and mermaids and prostitutes made good; I tell you, all these films are filling your heads with rot. You’re only going to be disappointed when you see what’s out there in the real world.”

  “Not a romantic then, Mrs. C?” said Leila. “Come on, why don’t you watch The Princess Bride with us? You might like it.”

  “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 leaned 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 recognized 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 math. 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 t
o thicker hair. She had spent a lot of math 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 math 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 math problem I hoped you could help me with. You’re good at math, 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.