Page 16 of A Wish for Jinnie
‘Try some? It’s a lot better than a bag of smoky bacon.’
Angela looked on the verge of refusing. Sam took another forkful and she hesitantly picked up the spare fork and followed suit. As she chewed, her eyes abruptly filled with tears.
‘Oh, gosh, is it too spicy for you? I’m sorry, maybe take a drink to wash it down.’ Sam felt terrible now, as if he’d tried to poison the poor woman.
‘No, it’s fine,’ Angela replied, sipping her soda water. ‘The food’s perfect, it’s just … you being so nice.’ She looked down. ‘I guess I’m not used to people being nice to me.’
As if on cue, Jamie loomed above them, gathering empty glasses and glaring at Sam and Angela. ‘All right here? Hope you’re not overdoing it, Mum. You know what the doctor said.’
Pink spots appeared on Angela’s cheeks. Jamie had spoken abruptly, and Sam guessed she was also embarrassed at the mention of a doctor. ‘Thanks, Jamie, but I’m OK. Sam and I are just chatting. I am allowed to chat to people, you know.’
With a not-very-discreet roll of the eyes Jamie stomped back to the bar, glasses rattling on his tray. Angela sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. ‘I love that boy to bits, but there are times I could gladly strangle him. His heart’s in the right place, but he acts like he’s the boss of me. Understandable, I suppose, since he’s never had a dad and … well, I haven’t always been the perfect mum.’
When he’d wished for some company, Sam hadn’tquiteimagined this turn of events. Still, if Angela wanted to offload her worries, he could at least lend a sympathetic ear. They polished off the curry between them, Angela talking between mouthfuls.
‘I had Jamie when I was very young. Sixteen, in fact. The father was a bit older and legged it as soon I said I was pregnant.’
‘That’s tough,’ said Sam. He and Lucy had been in their early twenties when they married and had Sean.Too young, he thought, with the benefit of hindsight,but sixteen?
‘My mum did what she could to help, but it wasn’t easy. Specially when we realised Jamie had some learning difficulties. Money was pretty tight. Still is, but I’ve tried my best.’
Not knowing what to say, Sam squeezed her hand; then Angela snatched it away. ‘Sorry, I’m rambling on and I should be getting home.’ She stood up. 'Thanks for listening, and for the food and drink.’ Before he could respond, she grabbed her things and almost sprinted to the door.
Sam decided to call it a night. Waving at Mags and Jamie (who nodded curtly), he left the pub. Some mind-numbing TV and another whisky would hopefully point him in the direction of sleep, and steer his thoughts away from two very different women…
Chapter 19
‘Girlfriend, that is soooo funny!’Dhassim honked and hooted like a demented duck on drugs when Jinnie relayed her tale of cocktail-making chaos. She had tried to look cross, but looking cross was difficult when her ‘roomie’ was rolling around on the floor, clutching his sides. He’d been sound asleep when she got back from the pub, and despite her earlier anger and embarrassment, she’d refrained from giving him a kick.
‘When you’requitefinished.’ Jinnie gave him her best stern headmistress look, but her cheeks were wobbling with barely-contained mirth. The situation was so insane, so out-of-this-world bonkers, that it was a wonder she wasn’t writhing around on the floor with him. Not in a sexual way, of course. Dhassim was quite cute, but getting it on with a genie? No, not happening. Whereas writhing around with Sam, or Ed…?No, no, no!
‘Honeybun, any chance of us eating soon? My stomach feels like my throat’s been cut.’ Ugh, he really needed to stop with the cutie-pie names. They were making Jinnie feel nauseous.
‘My name is Jinnie. Please just call me that.’ She rummaged in the cupboard for something to have for breakfast. The cheap and not very cheerful bran flakes she’d picked up at Janette’s looked like something you’d sprinkle in a cat litter tray, and didn’t taste much better.
‘Fine,Jinnie,’ grumbled Dhassim, pronouncing her name ‘gin knee’. ‘So what are we having? Hmm, you’ve got flour, eggs and milk. I could whip up pancakes. Got any syrup?’
Jinnie was due at the shop in half an hour. Luckily, Dhassim was as adept at pancake-making as she’d been at cocktail-shaking. Within ten minutes they were feasting on a mini mountain of the goodies, topped with sugar and a squeeze of lemon.
‘What are you planning on doing while I’m out?’ asked Jinnie. Her humble abode was gleaming from top to bottom, since Dhassim was a dab hand at everything from hoovering and dusting to polishing and scrubbing. His lamp now took pride of place on the mantelpiece, which reminded her —
‘I told you I found your lamp at Sam’s shop,’ she said, hunting for her house keys and lipstick. Pouting in her compact mirror, she applied a double coat of Vixen Rose. Which, along with a touch of foundation and lash-lengthening mascara, was purely for her own benefit. Not to impress anyone else. No sirree.
‘Yes, I believe you did,’ replied Dhassim, dabbing his mouth with a piece of kitchen towel. ‘And…?’
‘Well, there were two of them. Sam can’t find the other one, but he’s adamant they came as a pair.’ Was it her imagination, or did his bronzed face (he’d nobbled the last of Jinnie’s fake tan) turn paler?
‘Really? How interesting, although I’m sure it’s just a coincidence. The world is full of lamps that look similar. You just struck it lucky getting the one which contained little old me!’ Dhassim flounced into the lounge and the theme song fromFriendsblasted out. He’d already binge-watched four seasons, and declared himself in love with Jennifer Aniston.
* * *
‘I poppedinto the pub last night,’ said Sam, when Jinnie arrived at work. He was painstakingly unwrapping old plates and stacking them on a shelf. ‘Thought I might see you there.’ His tone was casual, but he didn’t quite meet Jinnie’s eye. Was there the tiniest spark of interest there, or was she reading too much into things? Even if there was, Jinnie had enough on her own plate coping with Dhassim and the whole wish conundrum.
‘Ken’s asked me to work Tuesday and Thursday evenings for now,’ she replied. ‘And I might get the odd weekend shift too.’ At ten pounds an hour the money wasn’t brilliant, but at least she might be able to go a bit more upmarket on the breakfast cereal.
They worked companionably for the rest of the day. A smattering of customers came and went, some only to browse, but a nice set of silver candlesticks and an intricately woven table linen set left the building.
‘Have you met Angela, Jamie’s mum?’ Sam’s question took Jinnie by surprise, and made her wonder if she was totally off the mark thinking he might be interested inher. Perhaps Angela was the one.
