‘How long have you been in there?’ said the voice, rattling the handle from the other side.
‘Long enough,’ Minnie said.
‘OK, hold on, I’ll go find someone,’ said the voice. She heard footsteps walking away. She couldn’t believe Greg hadn’t come to find her. Had he gone home without her? Three or four minutes later the voice returned.
‘OK, I’m back. I have Luis here. He’s got a thousand keys in his hand.’
‘I don’t know how this happened,’ came another voice, an older man. Minnie heard keys being rattled in the lock.
‘Here, let me try,’ said the first voice. More clinking of keys and then the door swung open. ‘Look at that, first key and I nailed it. What are the chances?’
Minnie squinted into the light of the corridor. The voice belonged to a tall, broad-shouldered man with sandy-coloured hair and distinctive eyebrows a shade darker than the hair on his head. He grinned at Minnie, a warm, guileless smile. He was dressed in formal black trousers and a crisp white shirt. A black bow tie hung undone around his open collar, revealing a glimpse of tanned skin. Next to him stood a short, rotund bald man with a blank expression.
‘What time is it?’ Minnie asked, looking between the two men.
‘Seven forty-five,’ said the man in black tie.
‘I go now,’ said the shorter man, taking back the huge pile of keys and plodding off down the corridor muttering to himself.
‘A man of very few words,’ said the man in black tie.
Minnie followed him along the corridor back to the main room. The place was empty. Tendrils of party popper paper hung from the light fittings, and an army of half-empty champagne flutes lined the bar.
‘Am I the only one left? I can’t believe I slept that long.’
‘Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,’ he said, holding out his hand for Minnie to shake.
‘Oh right, I’m Minnie.’ The man smiled at her, but looked as though he was waiting for more. ‘Greg’s girlfriend. He works with Lucy. She invited us.’
‘Oh sure, everyone’s welcome. I think I heard Luce mention a Greg. Funny Greg, right?’
‘Funny Greg,’ Minnie raised an eyebrow, amused Greg would be called that. The man reached his arms above his head and the stretch turned into an enormous yawn. ‘Sorry, it’s catching up with me. What a great night, though.’
‘Not for me,’ Minnie said wryly.
‘No, not for you.’ The man gave an exaggerated grimace at having said the wrong thing and Minnie couldn’t help smiling.
‘So, I’m assuming it was your party then, Lucy’s boyfriend, right? Thank you for having me, I guess,’ Minnie said, clasping her hands behind her back.
‘You’re more than welcome. In theory it was my party, Lucy invited everyone.’
As he was speaking, the man’s phone began to ring in his pocket. He frowned briefly as he pulled it out to look at the screen. ‘Will you excuse me for one minute, I’m sorry, I have to get this, Minnie.’
‘Sure, no problem,’ Minnie shrugged.
He turned his back and walked a few paces away from her.
‘Hi,’ he said. ‘Are you OK? No, I’m still out … I’ll come around later … I checked all the locks last night before I left … No … OK.’ Minnie could see the profile of his face. He had closed his eyes while he was talking. ‘Fine, I’ll come and check, just give me a few hours, please.’
Minnie watched him hang up the call. He noticed her watching him and gave her a tense smile.
‘Is everything all right?’ she asked.
‘Yes, sorry about that,’ he shook his head. He walked across the rest of the room towards the huge glass windows.
‘So, how come you’re the only one still here?’ Minnie asked.
He turned to look at her for a moment, assessing her. Then he said, ‘It probably sounds cheesy, but I always try to see the first sunrise of the year. I thought if I left with the others, I’d be in a cab somewhere and I’d miss it.’ He held out his arms towards the windows. ‘Is there anywhere you’d rather watch the first sunrise of the year from?’
‘Plenty of places,’ said Minnie. ‘The desert, a beautiful mountain top, on a TV screen from the comfort of my bed. Ideally pre-recorded so I didn’t have to get up so early.’
The man tilted his head to one side, his eyes creasing with amusement, the stressed look gone.
‘Well, you’re awake now, no pre-record required. Come on, come over here.’
Minnie walked over to the window and pressed a hand against the glass. The light was beginning to creep over the horizon. A high layer of cloud glowed a deep rusty pink, creating an aura of warmth over an otherwise cold, grey city. Skyscrapers stood silhouetted against the sky, their sharp straight lines in stark contrast to the softness of the clouds above.
‘Pretty impressive,’ Minnie said. ‘I can’t think when I was last awake for a sunrise.’
‘This is my favourite day of the year,’ he said. ‘A chance to start everything anew, don’t you think?’
‘Funny, it’s my least favourite day of the year,’ said Minnie. ‘I hate it.’
‘You can’t hate it, it’s my birthday. I won’t let you hate it,’ he said, his tired greyish-blue eyes temporarily revived, dancing with energy.
Minnie turned to look at him, she blinked slowly.
‘It’s my birthday too,’ she said.
‘It is not.’
‘I’m not joking. I promise you it is.’
He squinted at her, his chin retracting towards his neck, a look of scepticism. He turned back to the window just as the whole sky began to glow red.
‘Will you look at that?’ he said. ‘Glorious.’
Minnie glanced sideways at him as he looked out at the morning sky. She couldn’t pinpoint one feature that stood out, but there was a sort of synergy about his face; everything came together and just worked. He seemed so comfortable in his own skin, something Minnie had rarely experienced. He looked over and saw her staring at him and she quickly turned her attention back to the other view.
‘You know, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone with the same birthday as me,’ he said.
‘It’s a very elite club. I’ll make you a membership card.’ Minnie paused, nervous for some reason. ‘Look, I’m sorry, I know I should know your name since I’m at your party, but I came with Greg and he didn’t say. I guess I’ll need to know it if I’m going to make you a membership card.’
‘Sorry, I’m Quinn,’ he replied.
‘Quinn?’ Minnie’s mouth fell open. ‘Quinn Hamilton?’
‘Yes, Quinn Hamilton.’
‘Quinn Hamilton, born at Hampstead Hospital in 1990?’
‘Yes,’ said Quinn, his brow furrowing in confusion.
‘You,’ Minnie said, clenching her teeth. ‘You stole my name.’
New Year’s Eve 1989
Connie Cooper lay in the hospital bed looking over at the woman in the bed next to her. Specifically she was looking at the woman’s legs, which were long, glossy and as smooth as a Barbie doll’s. How was that even possible at this stage? Connie looked down at her own short, stumpy legs, covered in half an inch of black hair. She probably should have shaved her legs before coming in – well, at least the bits she could still reach.