Page 12 of A Wish for Jinnie
‘You’re looking nice today, Janette. Is that, erm, a new top?’ Instead of her usual Crimplene, Janette wore a fuchsia-pink number with a plunging neckline. If she bent over, Jinnie feared her breasts would make a bid for freedom.
‘Aye, it is. I had me a wee trip to Edinburgh to get some new undies. Saw this in Primark and thought to mysel’, time for a change. Got it in blue and orange too!’
Leaving Janette admiring her cleavage, Jinnie headed to The Jekyll and Hyde. She contemplated a quick detour home to see what Dhassim was up to, but decided against it. She’d left him fiddling with his wish gizmo, muttering something about a malfunction.
It was just after eleven, and the pub was still deserted apart from an old man nursing a pint in the corner. There was no sign of Ken, just the tall, bearded man Jinnie had seen the other day, who had looked up from scribbling on a blackboard.
‘Hi, I was hoping to have a word with Ken, if he’s around.’ Up close, Jinnie noted a definite similarity between the two men. Both had slate-grey eyes and close-cropped black hair. Ed’s eyes — assuming she was correct — were twinkly and friendly, whereas Ken’s were often steely and unwelcoming. Build-wise, Ed was much broader, and his arms each bore a tattoo.
‘Sure, he’s out the back. Can I say who’s looking for him?’
‘Jinnie. Jinnie Cooper.’ They shook hands, Jinnie glad that his handshake was strong and firm. She hated limp handshakes, or ‘wet haddock flappers’ as Hannah called them.
‘I’m Ed, the ne’er-do-well son of Ken and Mags. Pleased to meet you.’
Jinnie had never been a fan of facial hair, and especially not the beards currently in fashion, which could provide homes for several orphaned chicks. Nor did she like tattoos, even though she actually had one. A butterfly on her left shoulder blade, done in a moment of madness when she was twenty, egged on by Hannah and the gang. It was tiny and faded now. Still, Ed seemed a nice person, and she wouldn’t judge him on his beard and body art.
‘Dad! Jinnie’s here to see you,’ hollered Ed. ‘Can I get you a drink?’ he added, at a normal volume.
‘Just an orange juice, please.’ Jinnie perched at the bar, watching Ed retrieve a bottle from the fridge. He removed the lid and poured it into a glass, adding a scoop of ice.
‘Hello there! I’ve been expecting you,’ boomed Ken, much more like the friendly man she’d encountered while having lunch with Sam.
‘Um, well, I was wondering if you could offer me some part-time hours,’ gabbled Jinnie, aware that Ed was within earshot and grinning enthusiastically.
‘Give her a job, Dad,’ he chimed in. ‘We could do with a bit of glamour behind the bar. Jamie’s face could turn milk sour, and you’re hardly an oil painting yourself.’
Ken mock-frowned at his son, then nodded at Jinnie. ‘I certainly could. Have you any bar experience?’
Aside from propping one up on a regular basis?, thought Jinnie. Not really, although she had spent one summer working at a local music festival, doling out watery pints to sloshed revellers. Upmarket gin and tonics and elaborate cocktails were beyond Jinnie’s current capabilities, but how hard could it be?
‘A little,’ she said. 'I’m a hard worker and a fast learner. Honestly. If you hire me I promise I won’t let you down.’Well, that didn’t sound remotely desperate, did it?
‘I’ll teach you the ropes, Jinnie,’ said Ed. ‘I’m around for a couple more days. When can she start, Dad?’
Ken scratched his head, lost in thought.
Ed pulled a clipboard from behind the bar and stuck it under Ken’s nose. ‘Look, Dad, Jamie’s working day shifts, and so is Rose. I was going to ask one of them to cover tomorrow evening, but how about you start then, Jinnie? Say from seven till eleven, and we can take it from there. Sunday night’s a possible too, but I can’t guarantee that right now.’
They agreed a rate that wouldn’t have Jinnie’s bank manager jigging with glee, but it was better than minimum wage. Hopefully, if she didn’t make a complete hash of things, she could do a few more shifts. And working alongside Ed might be fun. He seemed like a decent sort, as did Ken, despite her earlier impressions.
‘How did it go?’ asked Sam, as Jinnie sauntered in with her bagful of sweet treats and toilet rolls. ‘Well, judging by that smile.’
‘The good news is that we have biscuitsandtea cakes.’ She produced the items with a flourish. ‘The bad news is the Andrex puppy would run a mile from Janette’s cheap bog paper. And I’m doing my first shift at the pub tomorrow night, and feeling a wee bit nervous.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ Sam assured her. ‘The Jekyll and Hyde has a good reputation, and I know they treat their staff well. Free grub too, I believe!’
The rest of the day passed pleasantly. Sam and Jinnie happily munched their way through most of the tea cakes, and served a couple of customers. In a quiet period, Sam confessed he’d hit a brick wall with his latest novel, having decided to introduce a romantic element. ‘My previous stuff has been quite dark. All mutilated bodies and police knee-deep in their own personal demons.’ He gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘Mind you, my ex would say I don’t have a romantic bone in my body. I was hopeless at buying gifts, and never remembered Valentine’s Day.’
Jinnie smiled sympathetically, doubting she’d be able to read one of Sam’s books. She liked her books frothy and fun-filled, not dripping in blood and gore.
‘Romance isn’t about that, is it?’ she said. ‘It’s more about the little things, the gestures that mean something, rather than buying fancy stuff or feeling obliged to go overboard on a date that’s just a commercial con.’ Mark was guilty as charged, presenting Jinnie with underwear that said more about his dubious taste than her personal preference. And as for his choice of Valentine’s card… Enormous, padded and dripping with faux sentiment. Like the engagement ring, which still languished in her jewellery box…
‘You might just have inspired me,’ said Sam. ‘Romance with a side order of reality. Less hearts and flowers, more —’
‘Tea cakes and toilet roll.’ Jinnie reached over to brush a flake of chocolate from the corner of Sam’s mouth. ‘Because we all need a little sweetness, and we all need to wipe. Right?’
Chapter 16
