July, 1960

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You might be the loneliest person in the world
You'd never be as lonely as me...


'Minerva James? Is there a Minerva James here?'

The woman has said her name at least twice before Minnie even notices. Lost in her thoughts, she'd missed it. Minnie looks up, but remains seated. She knows she needs to do this, she's told herself all week and finally forced herself to make the appointment yesterday, but... perhaps it's not going to be today, after all. It's Friday. Fridays should be for fun, for celebrating the impending weekend. Fridays are poor days to receive bad news.

'Minerva James?' she says for a third time, her tone clipped and annoyed.

Minnie stands. The receptionist looks at her expectantly, but Minnie shakes her head, side-steps past the other people sitting in the waiting room and goes for the door. Bursting out into the weak morning sunshine, she takes huge gulps of air like a swimmer breaking through the surface of water. Not today. She can't do it today. She'll go back. She'll have to go back, but waiting another two or three days won't make much difference. Won't make the prospect any less horrifying. If it's happening, it's happening and nothing will change that.

It takes nearly an hour to get across the city on the bus. She'd chosen a clinic in Vauxhall, west of Scottie Road, where there would be less chance of her running into someone she knows, or worse, someone who knows him or Hannah. By the time she arrives back in Allerton, it's clouded over and started to rain.

Hannah's out when Minnie gets home and the house is empty, thankfully. She doesn't want to have to see or speak to anyone. There's no note to say where Hannah's gone, but Minnie can guess. She makes herself a cup of tea. She'd rather have something stronger, but it will be several hours before she can go into town, down to The Cavern or The Iron Door or somewhere for the night.

It's over an hour before Hannah gets back. Minnie is still watching the rain falling heavily over the back garden from the kitchen window, her undrunk tea long since gone cold. Hannah opens the back door and steps inside, flapping an umbrella out behind her. 'It's chucking it down out there,' she says cheerfully, leaning the dripping brolly in the corner of the kitchen to dry.

Minnie turns away from the window and leans against one of the work tops, her arms folded. 'Mmm,' she replies. She wonders if she should tell her, share with her what she's worried about. It might help.

'Typical British summertime.'

'Yeah.'

But how can she tell Hannah? She can't burden her with this, not on top of what they have to deal with already. Minnie's not sure she could even find the words. All the things they've been forced to talk about - it always makes it real. While it's inside her head, Minnie can almost pretend it's not happening. The minute she tells Hannah, that's over.

'What? What's happened?' Hannah asks, cautiously, noticing Minnie's demeanour.

She stands up straighter and shakes her head. 'Nothing. Nothing out of the usual.'

No, Minnie will have to deal with this herself. If it's a negative, then there was never anything to worry about. And if it's positive, well, she's pretty sure she knows what she'll do if it's a positive, and sharing that with her sister won't change it.

'Where's...?'

'Not here.'

'What is it then?' she asks, still suspicious.

'You've been to see George again.'

Hannah beams. 'Yeah, at the park, but we were getting rather soggy...'

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⏰ Last updated: Aug 06, 2017 ⏰

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