Page 22 of A Wish for Jinnie
Leaning on the closed door, Jo told herself that nothing had happened. Everything was fine;theywere fine. Just friends. If she said it often enough, she might just believe it.
Chapter 24
Christmas Eve
Twas the night (or rather,the day) before Christmas, when all through the house things were supposed to be quiet as a mouse.If only!
Jinnie was upstairs trying to blow-dry her hair, which always did the opposite of what she wanted. Even the grinding noise of her close-to-death hairdryer failed to drown out the sound of Dhassim caterwauling in the lounge. He’d discovered the joys of YouTube, and was working his way through a catalogue of Christmas songs with lyrics bouncing along the bottom of the screen. How she’d survived the past couple of weeks was nothing short of a miracle. At least she’d been busy at the shop, and a few shifts at the pub meant she wasn’t totally skint.
‘Give me strength,’ Jinnie groaned, the barrel brush doggedly refusing to part company with a clump of hair. Through her squeal of pain, she heard Dhassim launch into an equally painful rendition of ‘I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day.’ No bloody way. Not if it meant putting up withthatracket.
She stormed to the top of the stairs. ‘Could you turn it down, please! I am getting a headache and I’ve got a lot to do before I see my family tomorrow,’ Jinnie hollered, still trying to untangle the brush.
The volume dropped marginally, and there was a brief reprieve before Dhassim launched into a Cliff Richard sing-a-long.
‘Bugger the mistletoe, pass me the wine,’ thought Jinnie, back at her dressing table and abandoning her styling attempts. She scooped up her hair with a scrunchy and chugged a mouthful of orange juice. Pity it wasn’t a Bucks Fizz, but there’d be a few celebratory drinks later at The Jekyll and Hyde. Maybe even some mistletoe, although Jinnie didn’t plan on kissing anyone.
Pulling on some jogging bottoms and a well-worn sweatshirt, she clumped downstairs in her fake Ugg boots, which unfortunately smelled like an overripe cheese. You get what you pay for; wasn’t that the old adage?
‘Ah, Jinnie, I am loving all these Christmas songs. It really is the most wonderful time of the year!’ Dhassim grabbed her hand and twirled her around as Mel and Kim warbled about dancing around the Christmas tree. Despite herself Jinnie bust a few moves, glad that years of watchingStrictly Come Dancinghad taught her something.
‘I do not understand, however, why someone sings about seeing their mother kissing Santa Claus,’ panted Dhassim, demonstrating a couple of sharp heel leads. ‘From what I gather, this Santa is a rather rotund man who somehow manages to squeeze down chimneys to leave presents. That is puzzling enough, but why would a married woman kiss him? Surely that would be classed as infidelity?’
‘No, the thing is…’ Jinnie stopped, not sure she could explain the truth about Santa. Dhassim was a genie; why shatter his illusions about a jolly bearded fellow with a penchant for whizzing through the sky on a reindeer-driven sleigh? Her own belief had been dealt a fatal blow at the age of nine, when she’d woken up to spy her dad fumbling with the stocking at the end of her bed. Jinnie had kept up the pretence of believing for several more years because she knew Rob would be upset to discover he’d been rumbled, and ignored Archie’s snide remarks about her stupidity.
Hannah and Shona were coming to Cranley for a bite of lunch at A Bit of Crumpet. Before they arrived, Jinnie wanted to wrap her presents for family and friends. Later, they would head to the pub for a few festive drinks — Ray’s home-made mulled wine was legendary for its potency — before the girls headed back to Edinburgh.
‘Dammit, why is the Sellotape never where I thought I’d put it?’ Jinnie grumbled, scrambling through the ‘man drawer’ in the kitchen, as comedian Michael McIntyre dubbed it. Sure enough, it contained random keys for mysterious locks, a hotchpotch of tea lights and candles, and bundles of expired store loyalty cards and other rubbish. But not the bloody Sellotape. Jinnie finally located it at the back of the drawer where she kept tea towels and packs of paper napkins.
‘You still have not explained to me about the kissing thing,’ said Dhassim, hovering in the doorway.
Jinnie grabbed the bag of wrapping paper propped up in the corner, and took a pair of scissors from the utensils holder. ‘Another time,’ she replied. ‘Look, could you be an angel and help me wrap stuff? I’m going to be late meeting the girls if I don’t get a move on. I still have to get changed and do something withthis.’ She waved the scissors perilously close to her badly-coiffed head. Maybe that was the answer. Chop it all off, à la Carey Mulligan. Except Jinnie feared she’d end up more Cary Grant: manly rather than gamine.
It turned out the genie was a genius when it came to wrapping (of the gift variety; his attempts at rapping musically were ear-bleedingly bad). Jinnie sat back and watched as the presents were transformed into packages worthy of an expensive Christmas ad photo shoot.
As Dhassim snapped off the final piece of tape with his pointy teeth, Jinnie got to her feet. ‘Brilliant, thank you! Right, I’m off to get tarted up. I just wish I had perfect hair, instead of a bird’s nest perched on my head.’
Before she could move an inch, Dhassim whipped out his WIFI. He gave her a quizzical look as the device flashed and beeped. As wishes went, it wouldn’t win any awards for inventiveness, but Jinnie had no doubt it was shared with millions of women around the world. ‘Go for it,’ she said.
The steady green light appeared, and Jinnie’s scalp felt as if a million tiny ants were performing a Lindy Hop on it. She winced, then hit the stairs as fast as her pins-and-needles legs would allow.
As she approached the dressing table, Jinnie squeezed her eyes shut. Her vision of perfect hair might differ greatly from Dhassim’s. He’d been kicking around a very long time, so who knew? It might be a towering, pomaded homage to Marie Antoinette, or a heavily lacquered beehive from the Swinging Sixties. Oh God, would she have to spend the rest of her life sleeping upright and bulk-buying cans of hairspray to maintain the look?
‘Wow.’ Jinnie wasn’t often lost for words, but her reflection rendered her speechless. Staring back at her was a woman with hair so sleek, so glossy, so utterlyperfectthat it would make hair models weep with envy. Not a strand was out of place. Jinnie shook her head vigorously, then watched in wonder as every strand fell back into place. Even the dark strip of neglected roots had miraculously disappeared. It looked like expensive trips to Stephanie were a thing of the past — and those terrifying thoughts of putting her head in the hands of Peggy the high street perm-queen forever banished.
‘Hubba hubba!’ cried Dhassim when Jinnie returned, wearing a purple velvet dress she’d picked up in the sales several years ago. ‘I believe that is the correct terminology for complimenting a woman on her looks.’
Possibly in a 1950s movie, thought Jinnie, but accepted it graciously. ‘Right, I’m off to meet my friends, and I doubt I’ll be back till much later. Will you be OK?’ She felt guilty leaving Dhassim alone so much, but she could hardly take him with her. ‘Hey girls, meet my very own genie of the lamp! Amazing what you can pick up in the shops these days.’
‘Do not worry your pretty little head,’ Dhassim replied. ‘I have found many Christmas movies to watch, and I have more delicious haggis to partake of.’
Jinnie had snapped up a few battered tins of Scotland’s national dish at Janette’s. At first Dhassim had looked on in horror as she scooped what resembled dog food into a pan. But once heated, he’d taken a tentative taste and declared it ‘magnifique’.
‘OK, enjoy.’ Gathering up the girls’ presents and her coat, she left as Bing Crosby and David Bowie harmonised to ‘The Little Drummer Boy’, and Dhassim enthusiasticallypa rum pum pum pum-ed along.
Chapter 25
Jinnie,Hannah and Shona huddled at a table in the café, fingers wrapped around steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Hannah had brought along a hip flask and added a generous splosh of rum to each one.
