Page 13 of A Wish for Jinnie
Jinnie easedthe front door open, unsure what to expect. The first thing she heard was her vacuum cleaner, accompanied by what could best be described as the sound of a cat being strangled. It was coming from upstairs. She dumped her coat and bag and trudged towards the noise, any hope that Dhassim might have found another mistress or master fading away.
Entering the bedroom, Jinnie found Dhassim shimmying around the room, singing some unknown number and looking a lot like Freddie Mercury in the “I Want To Break Free” video, minus the boobs and moustache (and the vocal ability). He was manoeuvring the ancient upright vacuum her gran had given her. ‘An anniversary present from your granddad, God rest his soul,’ she’d said. ‘Romantic gestures were never really his thing.’
The tatty old rug was receiving a good going-over, at least until its tasselled edge got snagged in the machine. Dhassim switched it off, muttering expletives in a foreign tongue. As he bent over to untangle the threads, he saw Jinnie and let out a high-pitched scream. ‘Girlfriend, donotcreep up on me like that! My little heart is thumping.’ He placed a hand on his chest and panted like a mother about to give birth.
‘Sorry.’Not sorry. Why should Jinnie apologise, when he was the one who’d invaded her life? She didn’t want — didn’t need — a genie hanging around. Even one intent on cleaning, which had never been Jinnie’s forte. Who was that old bloke she’d read about? The one who said something like: ‘After the first four years the dirt doesn’t get any worse’? She’d never beenthatbad, but Jinnie’s philosophy was to do the bare minimum and keep the lights turned down when visitors arrived.
‘Why are you vacuuming? Shouldn’t you be fixing your wish thingummy?’ Said device was plonked in the middle of Jinnie’s bed, next to a screwdriver and a can of WD40.
‘All done,’ announced Dhassim with a smug smile. ‘Just needed a little lubrication. Speaking of which, I am totally parched. Any chance you could rustle up something cool and refreshing?’
Jinnie stomped downstairs, Dhassim hot on her heels. ‘I suffer from shocking allergies, you know,’ he huffed, adding an ostentatious sneeze for good measure. ‘Dust is the devil, and your house is a veritable health hazard.’
In the kitchen, Jinnie tossed him a box of tissues, and Dhassim honked heartily into one. Opening the fridge, Jinnie took out a couple of beers — on special at Janette’s as they were approaching their use-by date — and levered off the caps. ‘Cheers,’ she said.
Dhassim eyed the bottle dubiously before taking a gulp. ‘Hmm, interesting flavour, although I’d have preferred something a bit more exotic. Don’t you have any rosewater or fresh mint?’
Yes, thought Jinnie.My kitchen is crammed with exotic ingredients. Baked beans, sliced white bread and budget cornflakes. Ooh, and not forgetting a bottle of Ribena. It evoked childhood memories of being tucked up in bed with a cold and her mum bringing her a hot mug of the blackcurrant drink.
Within minutes it was obvious that Dhassim wasn’t a drinker. Giggling inanely, he performed a series of breakdance moves. Either that, or he was having a seizure. Not sure whether to laugh or cry, Jinnie left him to it and went into the lounge. Right now she wished she had a telly, just to watch some mind-numbing rubbish or wildlife footage of lions tearing apart a wildebeest. That would suit her current mood. Then thoughts of David Attenborough narrating the gruesome scene were quickly displaced by another thought:What the actual hell…?
Jinnie blinked, unable to process what now took up almost one wall of the cottage. A friggin’ ginormous television, one of those fancy curved numbers. On the coffee table was a remote control with more buttons than Jinnie had ever seen on such a device. Tentatively, she pressed what appeared to be the on button, and the screen burst into life. At least, there was a colourful bouncing ball icon which ricocheted from one edge to another, then burst like a bubble. Speaking of bouncing balls… Dhassim sprang in front of the screen, jigging from one foot to the other.
‘Whoopsie! Looks like my little chickadee’s first wish got granted.’ His expression was one of contrition mixed with mischief. Wordlessly, Jinnie handed him the remote and watched as he fiddled and clicked until an actual picture appeared. A handsome Hollywood hunk, going in for a serious smooch with an equally gorgeous actress. Jinnie would have preferred a bit of animal chomping, but that wasn’t really the issue here.
‘When I wished I had a telly, I didn’t really mean it,’ she said. ‘Anyway, how did you know what I wished for? I didn’t say it out loud.’
Dhassim changed channels. This time the screen was filled with images of a hippo thrashing around in a river, with a crocodile’s teeth clamped around its body. OK, either he was a mind reader, or —
‘It’s not me, cupcake. My WIFI is definitely having a wobble. Here, you play with this.’ He handed Jinnie the remote. ‘I’ll see what’s going on.’
Jinnie sank into the sofa as Dhassim bounded upstairs. He was back in a flash, the errant piece of kit in his hand. ‘Hmm, it looks like it’s upgraded to the premium economy package all on its ownio.’
‘Meaning?’ Jinnie eyed the device suspiciously. It was beeping and flashing manically, and Dhassim was muttering under his breath while he examined it. He finally went for the scientific approach of bashing it repeatedly on the coffee table, adding a few more dings to the table’s battered surface.
He looked up. ’This shouldn’t be happening,’ he said.
No shit, Sherlock, thought Jinnie.
‘It’s giving you bonus wishes! Like, it’s tuning into everything you wish for. That’s not how this baby is supposed to work.’ He shook it, then put it to his ear.
‘Meaningwhat, exactly?’ Jinnie’s temper was starting to fray, and her tummy was rumbling. Two Tunnock's teacakes and a vat of coffee didn’t exactly constitute a balanced diet. There was a macaroni cheese in the freezer with her name on it, assuming Dhassim hadn’t already scoffed it. Not that she’d shown him how to work the microwave, but Jinnie suspected he’d have figured it out. Or chiselled through the meal with his pointy little teeth.
‘Well, it should only grant wishes that you directly ask me for, and which meet the guidelines laid down in the Charter for Harmonious Upstanding Genies. That’s CHUG, for short.’
Jinnie had had enough. Dhassim could take his WIFI and CHUG and stick them where the sun didn’t shine. She was tired, hungry and wondering how she’d fare on her first evening behind the bar. Plus the whole second lamp thing was messing with her brain. She wasn’t going to ask him about it right now; it was all too much. What she really wanted to do was confide in someone about what was going on. But who?Not Hannah, she thought decisively. Hannah would wee herself laughing (literally, the girl had zero pelvic floor control). Her parents? They didn’t need the added stress of thinking their daughter was a sandwich short of a picnic. Maybe Gran? If she believed in tea leaves as a tool for foretelling the future, why not a genie? Then again, Gran wasn’t getting any younger and the shock might —
‘Just be careful for now. Until I figure out what’s going on with my faithful friend.’ Dhassim lovingly stroked his WIFI, which made a mewling sound.
Leaving him flicking through the channels, Jinnie dragged herself upstairs to bed. The microwave meal had lost its appeal. Instead, she’d found a packet of peanuts and made herself a mug of hot Ribena. Snuggled under the duvet, she heard Dhassim howling with laughter at something on the box.Great.
There was a set of earplugs in the bedside cabinet drawer, picked up years ago when she’d gone to a concert with the gang. Jinnie hadn’t worn them then — how boring-old-fart was it to muffle the sound of awesome music? — but now she needed to mute the guffaws from below. She squidged them into position, and the sound of her heart beating amplified threefold. Grumpily, she pulled them out and willed herself to sleep.Deep breaths in, deep breaths out. Think calm, rational thoughts. Do not eat any more peanuts, especially as you cannot be arsed to brush, never mind floss, your teeth.
As Jinnie tried to drift off, two images flitted through her mind. Solid, reliable and easy-on-the-eye Sam. Then — this one wassooff the wall — tattooed, bearded Ed. Polar opposites. Night and day. Someone she was attracted to (if she allowed herself to go down that road) and another who was fun, friendly and keen to help.
Jinnie rolled over, prodding peanut shards from her teeth with her tongue, and thought about getting up. But it was dark, the bed was warm, and the thought of having to converse with Dhassim filled her with dread. He knew nothing about her day-to-day life. Whatever his role was, they’d have to find a way to get to know each other in the coming weeks, or months.
Be careful what you wish for.
