‘You haven’t spent all weekend working out how you’re going to see him again, then?’ Leila said with a knowing look.
‘Leila, don’t you have some Excel spreadsheet you need to create?’ said Minnie, crossing her eyes at her.
‘I do. I’m going,’ Leila said, picking up her laptop and snapping it shut. ‘I’m going to work in the coffee shop around the corner; too many delightful distractions here.’
Once Leila had gone, Minnie went to help Bev start unpacking a box of ingredients on the workbench. Minnie had been so distracted by everything else going on, she hadn’t properly registered Bev’s appearance – she looked terrible. She had dark purple circles beneath her eyes and her body hunched in a stoop. She looked as though she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.
‘Bev, are you OK?’
Minnie stopped what she was doing and put a hand on Bev’s arm. Bev blinked at her through tired, heavy eyes. ‘Is this related to your forgetfulness, or the eco-anxiety? I’m worried about you Bev,’ Minnie said softly. ‘I’m here if you want to talk.’
‘You’ll think I’m nuts if I try to explain,’ said Bev quietly, her head bowed over the kitchen counter.
‘Try me.’
Bev let out a long, slow exhale.
‘It all started a couple of weeks ago, when I was watching one of these Brian Cox shows on the BBC.’
Minnie nodded encouragingly. Whatever she’d imagined Bev was about to say, she had not imagined it starting with Brian Cox.
‘He was talking about how, if the universe was a day, then our planet’s only been around for a blink of an eye, and if that blink of an eye was another day, humans have only been around for a blink in that blink. Then I got to thinking, if humans have only been around for a blink, then my lifetime is probably only a blink of that blink.’
Minnie was listening attentively but she was already lost. She moved her eyes from side to side trying to keep up.
‘Right,’ she said slowly.
‘And if my life is just a blink in a blink in a blink, then what’s the point in any of it? Nothing I do, nothing I say is ever going to matter in the grand scheme of things. Even if I fixed global warming or invented some spaceship that could get us all to Mars, it wouldn’t mean anything in the long run, would it? And I’m not doing any of those things, am I? I’m just fixing the house and feeding my family and making pies.’ Bev’s face fell when she saw Minnie’s expression of bewilderment. ‘I told you you’d think I’m crazy.’
‘I definitely don’t think you’re crazy Bev, I just, wow … those are pretty heavy thoughts to be having on a Monday morning.’
Alan came back in with a plastic pallet to load up and overheard the tail end of their conversation.
‘Are you telling her about your existential midlife crisis, Bev?’ he asked.
Bev nodded.
‘She’s got it bad, Minnie. She zoomed out way too far on Google Maps and now she can’t get back.’ Alan shook his head. ‘She needs to watch a bit moreX Factoror something. Anything on ITV will sort you out, Bev. Cut down on the BBC4 for a bit.’
‘Look, I don’t think any of us should be thinking too much about our place in the grand scheme of things,’ said Minnie. ‘I’m sure Brian Cox didn’t mean to make you question the validity of your existence. Even if you don’t invent a spaceship to Mars, that’s not to say you aren’t leading a rich and fulfilling life, Bev. Your husband loves you, your family love you, we all love you. What more can you hope to achieve in life?’
‘Wise words,’ nodded Alan, loading pie boxes into his pallet. ‘All you can hope for is to do more good than harm in this life, that’s my motto. I’ve already sunk three boats in my lifetime, so I figure I’ve got at least four boats to float till I’m up.’
‘You’re floating quite a lot of boats at the London Fields Social Club from what I hear, Alan,’ said Minnie, giving him an exaggerated wink.
‘What are you all gossiping about?’ asked Fleur.
Fleur was incapable of staying at her desk if she thought something interesting was being said in the kitchen.
‘Bev’s existential crisis,’ said Alan.
‘Alan’s elderly admirers,’ said Minnie.
‘Alan’s a Scorpio; Scorpios always get loads of attention,’ said Fleur, twiddling her hair and pulling a stool up to the worktop.
‘I don’t want to think like this,’ Bev said mournfully, unpacking more packets of flour and lining them up on the counter. ‘But now I’ve thought it, I can’t turn it off. Like, I was in the shower the other day and I was looking at this shampoo bottle my daughter bought me. It was made of real nice-feeling matte plastic, like someone had taken a lot of time over it. This bottle that was only made to hold shampoo for a month or two and it will probably be around on this planet longer than me. I’ll be dead in thirty years, and my kids might remember me, maybe even my grandkids, but then what? There will be no record I was ever here. But this shampoo bottle will still be existing somewhere with its list of ingredients and its lovely matte finish.’
Fleur, Alan and Minnie all stared silently at Bev.