Chapter 2
2
DAY ONE
Now
As Minnie walked along the leafy path of Regent’s Park towards the entrance to London Zoo, she saw Jesse already waiting, one hand in his pocket, the other framing his eyes, as he gazed up to the sky as if he were looking for something among spring’s cirrus stripes. He shielded his face from the glare of the sunshine as he took his phone out of his pocket and looked from the screen to the sky and back again.
‘Hi, nice to meet you, I’m Minnie!’ she said with a joke that belied and defied her nerves. She felt terribly anxious inside. This was a leap.
‘Jesse,’ he said, shaking her hand with his free one, conscious that his palm was warm.
‘What you looking at?’
‘Oh you know,’ he said, infinitely less tense than he had been on Tuesday. Minnie could tell it from the softness of his shoulders. ‘Just tracking something,’ he added, casually.
‘A planet?’ she asked keenly. ‘Did you see the moon move across Jupiter the other night? Five-per-cent-lit crescent moon. It was cool.’
Jesse looked at Minnie, puzzled. Was she an astronomer? He thought he’d seen a book about planets on her lap when he left the coffee shop with a polite wave.
He lingered for a perplexed second before answering.
‘No, a plane. I have this cool app that shows you where all the planes in the sky above us have come from and where they’re headed to, look…’
Minnie pulled in closer, relieved by how much more approachable Jesse was today.
‘Lufthansa, going from Berlin to Chicago.’
He smelled fresh, of hair pomade and washing powder, giving Minnie a feeling of comfort, until she looked at his phone screen and winced.
‘Makes me feel nauseous.’
‘What makes you feel nauseous? My phone?’ Jesse smiled. ‘Is that why you said no phones?’
‘No. Planes make me feel nauseous. Even thinking about them.’
‘How come?’
‘Oh you know… the crashes. The physics. How does a plane even get up in the air?’
Jesse raised an eyebrow.
‘I know, I know, “science”,’ she said exasperatedly, using finger marks in the air.
Jesse smiled, slightly confused.
‘Science is one thing, but sometimes you can’t trust the universe. It can ruin everything.’
Jesse looked at Minnie and waited for an explanation, but it didn’t come.
‘Shall we go in?’ she suggested, chirpily.
Jesse gestured to the entrance and took his wallet out of his bomber jacket pocket.
‘Oh no! This is on me,’ Minnie insisted. ‘My idea. My shout.’
‘Really?’
‘For sure!’
They stood in the queue as the spring sunshine glittered through a vapour trail dotted in the sky and Jesse wondered what the hell he was thinking, agreeing to meet a stranger. A stranger with a freaky fear of aeroplanes, who was clearly going through something heavy, when he should be sketching on a quiet Saturday. He internally chastised himself for being shallow. Would he have agreed to meet Minnie if she didn’t look the way she did? He was always drawn to what he deemed were good aesthetics. A cobalt and coral house exterior when he was travelling in Cartagena. A characterful hand-painted advert for a soda he’d never heard of on a roadside wall in Botswana. The packaging of a French luxury brand he had worked on, but whose clothing he couldn’t afford.
Jesse cursed himself for judging her based on her beauty, as he put his wallet and phone back in his pocket.
‘Let’s do it!’ she said cheerily, clutching two tickets as they walked through the entrance gate and into the zoo.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘My turn next time.’
Minnie smiled to herself. Jesse was on board.
Minnie and Jesse walked self-consciously through the entrance gates and past a statue of Guy the Gorilla – that Minnie definitely would have suggested they sit on and pose for a selfie had they not just met – and past the gorilla kingdom, which was packed with young families.
‘Are we sketching gorillas today?’ she asked, looking for signs of Jesse’s notepad and pencils in his Herschel backpack.
‘No gorillas. My gorilla is already locked in,’ he replied rather cryptically. ‘I need birds mainly today.’ He pointed the way towards an area he knew but Minnie clearly didn’t. She didn’t want to admit that in all her life living in London, she had never been to London Zoo. Her parents weren’t keen on caged animals, and she couldn’t even remember a school trip in the Rolodex of her memory. This was new and enchanting to Minnie so today she had her new and enchanting face on. It had been her standard issue resting face, until recently.
Minnie and Jesse were drawn to a lawn, where a birds-of-prey demonstration had just started to gather a crowd. They smiled politely at each other and silently agreed to join the group, who were watching a stout woman in green launch a tawny owl from her arm.
‘Does anyone know how the flight of an owl differs to the flight of most other birds?’ the zookeeper asked. A few people put their hands up and the woman pointed to a little girl next to Jesse. ‘Yes?’
‘They fly almost silently,’ the girl lisped, almost silently herself.
‘What’s that?’ the zookeeper asked. Minnie saw Jesse smile at the girl, encouraging her to speak up.
‘They fly almost silently,’ the girl repeated, a little louder.
‘That’s right!’ the zookeeper said, into her microphone. ‘And do you know how?’
The girl shook her head, looking like she knew, but was too shy to say so. The zookeeper explained to the group how the comb-like structure and velvety texture of owls’ feathers in their wings dampen the sound of turbulence and flight, helping them hunt stealthily at night.
Minnie looked at Jesse as if to say, wow .
A pair of scarlet macaws, a toucan, a vulture and a harpy eagle all followed, with demonstrations and showboating from them all – apart from the vulture who seemed to be in a bad mood. Jesse needed to get a closer look at the scarlet macaws and made a mental note to find their enclosure afterwards. After some oohing, ahhing and cooing from the crowd, the zookeeper thanked the audience, asked them to support the zoo by signing up to become members, and the crowd petered out.
Minnie and Jesse smiled politely at each other before gravitating towards the owl habitat, where they ambled and stared into their cages. A great grey owl with a face so round and lined it looked like the shorn trunk of an 800-year-old tree, winked at Minnie with a piercing yellow eye. Minnie felt as if the owl were giving her a boost of encouragement.
Go on, you’re doing OK. You’re making a friend.
The owl kept staring, almost hypnotically.
‘So clever,’ she said to herself.
Jesse walked ahead, looking for the macaws, hands in his pocket as he watched an African eagle owl fly across its cage. He turned back to Minnie.
‘Is it turbulence you’re scared of? With flying.’
Minnie shrugged. ‘I don’t know, I’ve never flown.’
Jesse stopped in his tracks.
‘What? Never?’
‘No.’ She laughed gently. ‘My parents travel all over with work, so whenever they have down time, the last thing they want to do is get on a plane.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah.’ Minnie seemed surprised Jesse was surprised. ‘When we went on holiday as kids, we went closer to home. Cornwall, Scotland or Ireland – both my parents are from Irish families, although they met in London.’
Jesse studied her. That made sense. Her pale, luminescent skin. Her black hair, its fringe so short it both framed her bright eyes while looking nervous to go near them. He could see the roots of her beauty as she tucked a strand behind her ear.
‘We’d spend long summers in Galway, but always go by boat and car. Suited me!’
‘And then… you just never?’
‘Nope. By the time I was an adult and could go off on my own, I was too terrified to fly!’ Minnie gave a laugh as if her fear were a wonderful and hilarious thing.
Minnie and Jesse meandered past a beautiful pink cockatoo, looking maudlin in its cage, which silently broke both their hearts, and then Jesse saw the macaws and peered in, taking photos on his phone.
When he finished he turned to Minnie, picking up where she left off. Jesse was the sort of person to mull over his words. He went at a slower pace than Minnie.
‘That’s actually quite impressive. Given what planes do to the planet.’
‘It’s cowardly, that’s what it is. But I do sleep better at night for my footprint and all that.’
Jesse nodded.
‘I have travelled beyond the British Isles. I’m not insular or anything. I went Interrailing with mates a few times. I’ve been island hopping in the Hebrides. Some beaches up there are more beautiful than the Caribbean, or so I’ve heard. I never felt like I was missing out.’
‘No, that’s brilliant,’ Jesse said quickly. He didn’t want her to think he was being judgemental, which he often was. ‘Unless you ever let a fear of flying hold you back. If you ever did want to go further.’
‘I’m good thanks.’
Jesse looked at her. Could a citizen of the world really get through modern life having never been on an aeroplane? She looked back and he raised an eyebrow, which she levelled with an explanation, not that she owed him one.
‘Pan Am 1736 and KLM 4805,’ Minnie reeled off, as she looked back at the macaws, who were squabbling on a branch in front of Jesse.
‘What’s that?’
‘Worst ever plane crash, 1977. Well, worst after the Twin Towers.’
‘OK…’ Jesse wasn’t sure where Minnie was going with this.
‘Japan Airlines Flight 123, 1985; Charkhi Dadri mid-air crash 1996; Turkish Airlines 981, Paris 1974… I know too much now, I can’t un-know this shit!’
‘Shit, you really do. Maybe you need this app,’ he said, wielding his phone before he put it back in his jeans pocket. ‘You see that all those planes up there right now, they get to their destination without crashing! You know you’re more likely to?—’
‘Yeah, yeah “die in a car crash on the way to the airport”… That just makes me nervous on motorways.’ Minnie scrunched her face up and laughed. ‘I don’t drive either.’
‘Wow, you are a catastrophic thinker,’ Jesse observed, although she seemed to be rather jolly about it. Minnie nodded happily in agreement as they left the birds and headed towards Butterfly Paradise.
‘So assuming you’re not a truck driver or cabin crew or a pilot, what do you do for work? You said you weren’t working today. Do you usually work Saturdays?’
‘I’m an actor,’ Minnie said, cautiously.
‘Oh cool, what do you act in?’
‘TV mostly. Well, TV only . A few ads while I was at college. Some voiceover stuff. Audiobooks. But I shot my debut series last year, an eight-part drama.’ Minnie thought about the Marvel movie she’d auditioned for in February and how she was still waiting for a call back three months later.
‘Will I have seen it?’
‘Not yet you won’t, possibly not ever. Legal wranglings.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Something I don’t understand between the author and the screenwriters. And scheduling wranglings with the networks. It’s a shame because it was going to be fucking amazing. Big budget, from a bestselling book.’
‘Wow, is it a book I’d know?’ Jesse was intrigued.
‘ Summer of Siena ?’
‘Oh wow.’
He’d heard of it. Summer of Siena had been a global bestseller, possibly five years ago. He remembered seeing the stylish cover on the striped sunloungers at the beach in Antibes and liking the design. Jesse noticed book covers and liked the aesthetics of the beautiful ones; and loathed many. But he hadn’t read Summer of Siena . Jesse was more into crime and thrillers.
‘We started shooting this time last year, in Italy – I took the sleeper train – then we went to Norway – train and ferry – and shot studio stuff here. It was off the scale.’ Minnie had the nostalgic look of someone reminiscing about happier times, longer ago than they were. A halcyon daze washed over her face.
Before.
‘Well I hope they sort it out and the series gets aired. It sounds epic.’
‘So do I. It was my big ticket.’
Jesse tutted in solidarity.
‘But fair dos, it was a bit much to expect from my debut I suppose.’ Minnie shrugged as she tucked her hands into her biker jacket. ‘I went to drama school quite late. Tried to fight the calling with teacher training, but I couldn’t hack it and dropped out in my NQT year.’
‘Teaching is the hardest job in the world. My flatmate is a teacher.’
Jesse felt slightly disingenuous describing Elena as his flatmate.
‘Although she left her classroom job to do private tutoring, it was so stressful in school.’
‘I can believe it!’ Minnie smiled ruefully. ‘I left midway through my first year and arsed around, doing shop work and waitressing, which I did through drama school and still do. I call it my side hustle, but sadly acting is the side hustle.’
‘Oh right. Whereabouts do you work?’
‘Usually events. Corporate stuff.’
Jesse didn’t go to many corporate events. He tended to go to creative events, art fairs and product launches. Minnie continued.
‘I mostly work at parties or functions. You know, the faceless staff who walk round with trays of food…?’
Jesse nodded.
‘No one sees us because they’re too clenched about the canapés running out…’
‘The canapé clench! I hate the canapé clench,’ he confessed. ‘The stress of it: “Will that tray come to me?” “Are those canapés the one food in the world I don’t like?” Give me a proper burger any time.’
‘Well there you go. Invisible me, contributing to your canapé clench!’
Jesse couldn’t really imagine Minnie going under the radar.
‘It pays the bills.’ She shrugged, quietly embarrassed that she was privileged enough not to have to worry too much about bills.
By the time they got to the big cats and stopped to look at a beautiful tiger clawing at a tree, Minnie realised she had talked too much about the boring events she had worked at recently: a book launch, a Eurovision party, a construction industry awards ceremony, and cursed herself internally. She hadn’t wanted to make a friend so she could talk at him about herself. She wanted to make a friend so she could show that she was listening to her therapist and taking his strategies on board. She wanted to go back to the innocence and happiness of her youth, when she’d felt comfortable in her skin and didn’t even question whether she was good enough.
But this new friend was a little backwards in coming forwards. Jesse asked questions but didn’t give much away about himself. He made her witter. She thought of what Tony might say if he could see them now, and tried to slow down her pace.
Deep breath.
‘So what was your big meeting about? On Tuesday. What is it that you do?’
Jesse looked across at her. He wasn’t an ogre, and nor was she. How hard could this be?
‘I’m a designer.’
‘Oh right.’
‘Of numbers mainly,’ he quickly clarified.
‘What, like a maths whizz?’
Minnie pictured Jesse, a childlike version of himself making a guest appearance in his adult face. A prodigy wearing a bow tie, at one of those Rubik’s Cube conventions where children beat world records and shock themselves as they press a buzzer to say ‘Finished!’
Jesse laughed. He was not a maths whizz.
‘No, graphic numbers. I design numbers and typefaces. In sport mostly. For football teams. Some branding. It’s a bit niche…’ He almost looked embarrassed, although there was no need to be. Minnie wore her enchanted face.
‘I don’t understand. Like, you come up with the number that a footballer will be?’
‘No, that’s the manager’s job. I design the numbers, the typefaces, the fonts. So, say, Ronaldo wears a shirt with a number seven under his name. The style for that season, that font, that club, his name, his number – I might have designed it.’
Minnie frowned.
‘I didn’t realise that was even a job.’
‘Well, someone does it! Although we don’t get any credit for it. Not publicly anyway. It’s just me and a few other designers around the world, either working for ourselves or agencies. I sort of work for myself.’
‘But you get paid for it, right?’
Jesse laughed again.
‘Yeah. I know the ethics of some sportswear brands are questionable, but I am paid. By the club or the organisation or the sportswear manufacturer or the brand. Whoever’s commissioned me really.’
Minnie looked impressed.
‘I have a little agency I run from a shared space near King’s Cross. Just me and a friend from college. I do numbers and typefaces mostly. Sometimes I do product or packaging for brands but Max – my colleague – mostly focuses on that.’
Minnie sighed in awe.
‘Well I have never met one of you.’
‘I’ve never met an actor.’
Minnie shrugged. ‘We’re all actors.’ She laughed to herself.
Jesse stopped and looked at the tiger, as he contemplated his own predicament. Was he acting too right now? Minnie continued.
‘I will tell Tony that my new friend works in a whole industry I never knew existed or had given a second thought to. He’ll be dead pleased.’
‘You told him then?’
‘Yep, saw him Thursday. I wanted a gold star. Which is half the problem. Sooo needy.’ She shook her head and winced half in jest, as if it was one of her most unappealing traits.
‘What did he say?’
‘He said don’t fall in love. I am absolutely not allowed to fall in love.’
Jesse stopped and leaned on the glass.
‘Well you’re safe with me. I am highly unavailable…’ He peered through at a tiger cub rolling on its back as a heavy pause fell between them, and he reached for his camera phone again. Minnie looked at Jesse looking at the tigers and Jesse suddenly felt very aware of her eyes boring into him. He turned to her.
‘I sound like a prick, don’t I?’
She nodded. ‘You do. But another of my therapist’s recommendations is to look for the good in people. Like when we were young and not cynical, we would assume people were good like us, or thought the same way as us, you know?’
Jesse concurred, although he thought he might have been more suspicious of people than Minnie was as a child. She seemed like a nicer, more open human being.
‘Tony told me to not assume people are pricks. So I’m not going to assume you are.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Shall we?’
They arrived at the Komodo dragon enclosure to see what looked like a prehistoric beast doing press-ups, its forked tongue darting out of its mouth every few seconds. Minnie put on her sunglasses and marvelled.
‘What a creature!’
Jesse started taking pictures, crouching down to capture the contours of the side of its body; the ungainly gait as it propelled itself forward with its muscly arms.
Minnie watched him photographing the dragon, as if he were an exhibit too.
‘So what was your meeting actually about, the other day?’
‘Huh?’
‘When I met you in the cafe. What was your big meeting? Number designs? Hey, did you ever design for Roy Keane? My mum and I both fancy Roy Keane.’
Jesse thought Minnie asked a lot of questions.
‘He retired like twenty years ago! I’m old but I’m not that old.’
‘I like an older guy. I mean – I’m the youngest in my family, I always hung around with older friends.’
Minnie thought of JP and felt sick.
Jesse raised a quizzical eyebrow before thinking it was best he got back on topic and returned to the reptile. He finished taking pictures and put his phone back in his pocket as he stood up.
‘It was about something different from my agency work actually; you could call it my side hustle, I suppose.’
‘Well, as you know, I am all about the side hustle!’ Minnie sounded excited. ‘What’s yours?’
Jesse took a deep and contemplative breath.
‘I was meeting a book agent. About an idea I have. Well, it’s not really my idea.’
‘Go on…’
‘It’s my dad’s idea. I was hoping she’d want to take the book on and represent us, to try to get a book deal and get it published.’
‘Oh cool. What’s it about?’
‘It’s a children’s book, set in a zoo. Paris Zoo.’ Jesse looked at Minnie in the sunlight and paused, deciding whether to tell her more. She looked back with wide, encouraging eyes. ‘My dad wrote it. He’s more of a words man. I’m more about the pictures. So I was hoping to illustrate it, and, well, get it published.’
‘Oh cool. Dream team!’ Minnie said, but she could see a slight panic in Jesse’s expression. ‘Which is why you came to sketch…’ She winced. ‘I’m so sorry, I do have a habit of intruding. I don’t have to stay long, I can leave you to it.’
‘No it’s fine,’ Jesse said unconvincingly. ‘I’ll take videos and photos today, on my phone. I’ve got some in the bag already.’
‘Guy the gorilla?’
‘ Georges the gorilla!’
‘Cute.’
‘There are specific animals I need to find, characters, but I need to re-read it first to be honest.’
Minnie studied Jesse’s face. She had a feeling he wasn’t being totally honest with her, and he wasn’t. He knew every word of the book inside and out. But he didn’t owe her an explanation. And now he was talking, she didn’t want to interrupt.
‘There isn’t a Komodo dragon in the manuscript anyway.’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe I could add one in, it’s very impressive.’ They both observed the beast doing another set of press-ups.
‘Have you ever published a book before?’ Minnie asked.
‘No, but I’ve been wanting to do something different for a while.’ Jesse looked almost guilty for not braving it sooner. ‘To put my design to different use. Have my name attached to a project for once. My name never appears on the football kits or fashion brands I design for.’
‘You design for fashion brands too?’
‘Packaging and typography, yes. The actual clothes, no.’
‘I suppose Paul Smith packaging has to have Paul Smith written on it and not Jesse… there, I’ve forgotten it already!’ Minnie laughed, not being totally honest either. ‘So the meeting went OK then?’
‘Yeah, Maddie, the children’s book agent, she loves the concept and she’s taken it on. She thinks she can find a publisher, once I come up with some more detailed illustrations. Something more final.’
‘Oh, congratulations!’
‘Thanks, I’m really pleased.’
‘ Fucking Orson didn’t blow it for you then.’
‘Nope, maybe I even have fucking Orson to thank for it. Getting me all hyped up and in the zone.’
‘Doubtful.’ Minnie rolled her eyes then looked around. ‘This calls for a slushy.’ She walked to the drinks stand next to the reptile enclosure where bright blue ice was whirring in a machine behind the counter.
‘I’ll get them.’ Jesse nodded, ordering two and tapping to pay. ‘But Maddie said the kids book market is pretty brutal if you’re not already a celebrity.’ Again he felt a flash of fraudulence, as if he weren’t being entirely honest.
‘It’s like that with acting,’ Minnie rued, thinking the same. ‘But nice that your dad and you are working together.’
Jesse’s throat tightened and he couldn’t get any more words out, so he looked up at the sky again and quickly at his phone. BA 278 was coming into Terminal 5 in four minutes. A young man with curly hair put the frozen blue drinks on the counter and Jesse took a swift sip. It felt like reaching the sea after running on hot sand.
‘Anyway, cheers!’ Minnie toasted, raising hers and knocking her plastic dome into Jesse’s. ‘Congratulations on the book!’
As they sipped their slushies and meandered past the reptile house, a comfortable silence fell over them. Minnie finally relaxed into the quiet, stopping wittering and letting Jesse speak, if he wanted to. Jesse warming up and asking less superficial questions.
‘How about you? Do your parents support your acting?’
‘Oh totally! They’re supportive of all of us.’
‘“All of” you? Cripes, how many of you are there?’
Now Minnie held back, which was most uncharacteristic.
‘I can’t tell you much.’
‘Why?’
‘Because that would break the rules.’
‘Why would it break the rules? Playground buddies talk about their families.’
She gave a sheepish look. ‘It might give away stuff about me.’
‘You’re not a royal are you?’
Minnie laughed, her mouth blue if not her blood.
‘No. But I am a queen.’
They slurped their drinks and paused to watch a snake uncoiling itself, as they both considered why Minnie had stopped slaying of late. Jesse dared to ask.
‘So what – or who – was this ratbag who caused you to end up in therapy?’
‘Well that was me, it was my doing really.’
‘That sounds like you’re being a bit harsh on yourself.’
‘No I’m not saying it for a pity party, but I lost myself a bit. Forgot myself for someone not worthy of my heart.’
‘Who were they?’
Minnie was surprised by Jesse’s candour. Then a thought flashed across her mind as she looked at Jesse looking a little vulnerable himself. Might Tony disapprove of her using Jesse to help with her therapy? Maybe it wasn’t fair.
‘He was a he, and he was a shit really, but I’m only just coming to terms with it. It all happened pretty hard and fast.’
‘Oh dear, I’m sorry.’ The silence was more awkward now. ‘I don’t mean to pry.’
‘No that’s OK, I always mean to pry, I’m really nosy.’ She smiled, before her face dropped to a frown. ‘We met at a party, last December. He was very impressive. A “Lord Business” type. Loved his car, loved the Cotswolds, we hooked up. He liked to brag about me at parties, that my show was going to be the next Normal People . He hadn’t seen either Normal People or one scene of Summer of Siena – he hadn’t read either book of course – but he kept bragging about me to his friends. Made me feel special.’
‘Is he in TV?’
‘No he’s a restaurateur, owns a chain of “upscale fish restaurants” he called them, which made me laugh at the time. What does that even mean?’
‘I guess it means he doesn’t run a jellied eel caf in Peckham.’
Minnie laughed.
‘No. Most of his “properties” are in Central London, Fulham, Southwest London… he’s opening one in the bloody Cotswolds.’
‘What’s your beef with the Cotswolds?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Just that he went on about them I suppose. Bragging that he’d been to the Beckhams’ place or Soho Farmhouse. I should have dumped him in the Cotswolds on New Year’s Eve when I had the chance. Anyway, I didn’t, and then he blindsided me. Said I wasn’t so sexy when I was down. And then I went really down. Until I realised just how much I had lost myself in a short few months. Because of a “confident” man. Confident my arse. All small dick energy.’
Jesse frowned. He really didn’t want to think about the guy’s dick.
‘He didn’t even dump me for a younger, hotter, more successful model. Turns out he had about four of us on the go, and I was the most “disappointing”. The one he let go.’
‘What a dick.’ Jesse shook his head.
‘You know the worst thing?’
‘What?’
‘l was so dazzled by him, I felt fortunate to be in his company, to the point that I can see why I was disappointing. I would have stopped fancying me, being so… grateful and needy.’
‘Well you’re better off without him, smarmy fucking slug.’
‘You know the guy?’ Minnie joked, nudging Jesse on the arm.
Jesse knitted his eyebrows together in a frown. No, but he could picture him.
‘Because that’s exactly what he is,’ Minnie confirmed. She thoughtfully drank the last of her slushy. ‘Is my tongue blue?’ she asked, sticking it out.
Jesse laughed. ‘Very. Which means mine is too.’ He stuck it out at her briefly, then blushed. ‘There you go! You wanted to go back to the simple days. When we didn’t know just how much chemicals and shit were in blue drinks…’
‘Elephants and marmalade sandwiches!’ Minnie mused, nodding to a solitary grandad with a young boy next to him, unwrapping lunch from a brown paper bag.
Jesse laughed and Minnie was serious for a second.
‘Look, I’m sorry, you don’t need to pick me up. I wanted you to be my friend. But you’re a busy guy with a book to draw, so I’ll leave you to it at the giraffes. Surely there’s a giraffe in your book?’
‘Genevieve.’
‘Genevieve. She sounds lovely.’
Jesse’s phone beeped in his pocket and he rushed to take it out. He looked up to the sky, and down at his phone.
Landed .
‘So what is the one food you don’t like on the canapé tray?’
‘Huh?’
Minnie was very good at darting back and forth into conversations her friends had thought they had left.
He pondered his answer before making his declaration.
‘Pallid mushroom vol-au-vents. They taste of cardboard.’
‘Urgh, yeah, gross. I wouldn’t mind if I never saw another mushroom vol-au-vent!’
They got to the giraffes and Minnie felt it was time to go.
‘Look, I’m going to head off, you’ve got all these characters to draw and I’m just in the way.’
‘It’s fine?—’
But she talked over him again.
‘Who’s the main character?’
‘Huh?’ he asked.
‘What’s the most important animal you need to sketch? Genevieve?’
‘Remy. Remy the red panda. The book is called The Amazing Adventures of Remy the Red Panda .’
‘Ahhh Remy! I love the sound of him already.’ Minnie stopped at the map next to the giraffe enclosure and looked for red pandas on it.
‘But they don’t have them here. I went to Whipsnade Zoo a few weeks ago and sketched there. Today I need macaws, giraffes, penguins, elephants, zebra…’
‘And what’s Remy like?’
‘He’s nosy actually!’ Jesse almost nudged Minnie back but stopped himself. ‘A friendly little detective, solving the case of the stolen krill from the penguin enclosure, or the case of the zebra with the missing stripes.’
‘Who turns out to be a horse…?’
‘Plot twist! You got it,’ he said with mock shock.
They laughed as Minnie drew her finger along the board, mapping her way to the exit. She tapped it twice.
‘That’s me. I’ll head off and let you sketch.’
‘You don’t want to see the penguins?’
‘Nahh it’s fine. Penguins smell, I imagine. I’m outta here. Although…’ She studied the board again. ‘I have never seen an actual regular panda in real life.’ Minnie narrowed her eyes as she scoured the map.
‘No giant pandas here either I’m afraid.’
‘What?’
‘They don’t have them at Paris Zoo either, and there isn’t one in my dad’s story yet, but I’m thinking of adding one in, you know, if it turns into a series. Maybe do one on a monochrome theme.’
‘Ever the designer!’
‘Yeah.’ Jesse rolled his eyes.
‘So how will you study a giant panda?’
‘I’m going to have to use some artistic licence with that.’
Minnie looked shocked that such a rule could be broken.
‘Google is my friend,’ Jesse said mysteriously, as if he were giving away a trade secret.
‘Well, there are like millions of videos of cute pandas on YouTube.’
‘True. I would like to go to Edinburgh Zoo to see giant pandas for real. I read there are two up there. Only ones in the UK. But that’s OK, I can take a trip one weekend. Anyway, my daughter won’t forgive me if I see a giant panda without her.’