Page 33 of A Wish for Jinnie
‘I’m not exactly rolling in it myself, but I’ve two jobs and parents who deserve sainthood for the amount of times they’ve helped me out,’ she replied. ‘Getting Angela to open up isn’t easy, but she said this morning her landlord was bumping up the rent.’
‘Does she have a job?’ Jo wasn’t sure what Angela did, besides providing house space for Jamie the not-so-chatty barman.
‘She told me she does the odd bit of tailoring. Taking up hems and making alterations. Certainly not enough to pay the bills. I guess she’s on benefits, but I’ve no idea how that really works.’
They headed up a side street with several basement-level cafes displaying boards of lunchtime specials.Freshly made toasties. Jacket potatoes. Salads. Selection of quiches.
‘This one looks OK.’ Jo squeezed past a couple of smokers huddled over an overflowing ashtray. ‘What do you think, ladies?’
Inside, the atmosphere was warm and convivial. Most tables were already occupied, but Jinnie spotted a raised bar area by the window with three free stools. ‘Perfect,’ said Jo. ‘Right, I could eat a scabby dug, so let’s hurry up and order.’
Both Jinnie and Angela burst out laughing at Jo’s phrase. ‘That’s a new one for me, even with a gran fluent in all manner of strange expressions,’ said Jinnie. ‘I’m guessing it means you’re a wee bit hungry?’
Jo grinned, and stabbed a finger impatiently at the menu. ‘Cheese and ham toastie and a Diet Coke for me.’
Jinnie went to place their order at the counter. Angela opted for the same as Jo, while Jinnie dithered between quiche and a baked potato with egg mayonnaise.
‘It’s nice in here, isn’t it?’ Jo looked around the room, decorated with vintage movie posters. A retro jukebox played hits from the fifties and beyond, and the young staff buzzed around with broad smiles and enthusiasm.
‘Here we go.’ Jinnie plonked down three Diet Cokes. ‘I couldn’t make up my mind, so it’s toasties all round. Should only be a few minutes.’
The conversation turned to plans for the coming year.
‘The only resolution I make is to never make resolutions,’ announced Jinnie. ‘I have the willpower of an amoeba. Diets are doomed to failure within days and as for dry January — Why would anyone choose to give up booze during the most miserable month of the year?’ She eyed her drink wistfully. ‘Do you think we should get shots of rum in these?’
Jo shook her head, aware of Angela’s discomfort. It was fairly common knowledge that she had had issues with alcohol, but perhaps the news hadn’t reached Jinnie.
‘I’d love to,’ said Angela, ‘but one shot would never be enough. Right now I’ve never been more tempted to throw myself off the wagon.’
She explained her financial plight. ‘I lost a few jobs because of my addiction, not that I’m qualified for much. I do receive some government help, but barely enough to keep afloat. Jamie tries his best to help and Ken offered me some part-time bar work too, but I don’t trust myself serving drinks. Being served is one thing, but having all those bottles at my fingertips…’
Just then, the jukebox blasted out Christine Aguilera’s ‘Genie in a Bottle’. Jinnie started to sing along, a curious expression on her face. Jo realised she was replacing the word ‘bottle’ with ‘lamp’, which didn’t really fit the rhythm of the song.
‘Are you OK?’ Maybe Jinniehadlaced her drink with something. She was giggling, and mumbling about genies being far more suited to lamps.
‘What? Oh, sorry. Yes, I’m fine.’ Jinnie wiped grease from her chin with a napkin. ‘Should we head back to the shops before we do the coffee and cake thing?’
They went for a stroll along George Street which boasted a nice selection of boutiques. Jo spied a chocolate-brown wool coat with a broad shawl collar, marked down from mind-bogglingly expensive to mildly eye-watering. It fitted like a dream, and she cradled the tissue-wrapped package as lovingly as a mother nursing her firstborn.Would Ken like it?She swatted away the thought like a pesky fly. Whether he liked it or not was irrelevant —
‘If I’m speaking out of turn, tell me to shut up.’
Jo tripped over a protruding paving stone, and grabbed Angela’s arm for support. ‘Oof, nearly came a cropper there.’ She steadied herself, then waited for Angela to continue.
‘I know I’m crap at most things, but I wondered… Well, you run A Bit of Crumpeton your own. I mean, I’ve never seen anyone else working there.’
It was true. Well, pretty much. Over the years Jo had hired the occasional part-timer, but the place was small and she couldn’t really justify the cost of taking someone on more permanently. Yes, there were days when she regretted her fierce independence. Juggling all the tasks involved in running the business left her wrung out and often in bed by nine. And now… Business was solid, and Jo had been toying with the idea of expanding a little. Outside catering, on a small scale. Perhaps children’s birthday parties — cake, savoury bits, all hand-made, and far removed from the pre-packaged stuff the supermarkets sold. Cranley was tiny, but Jo had her van and could easily travel a few miles in any direction.
‘Have you any experience in catering?’
Angela shrugged and tugged off a glove to scratch the back of her head. ‘Not really, but I used to bake a lot when I was young, with my mum. It was a Friday afternoon ritual when I finished school. Highlight of the week, because I bloody hated school.’
Jo felt sorry for the woman. Life hadn’t dealt her a generous hand, and she suspected further unhappy secrets lurked beneath the surface. Did shereallywant to take on someone like that? Jo enjoyed an uncomplicated life. Well, she had done, until recently…
‘That skirt has my name on it.’ Jinnie was outside a shop, nose pressed to the window. Jo and Angela followed her gaze, focussed on a multi-coloured confection in a damask fabric. ‘OK, I’m going to try it on. Are you coming in?’
Jo and Angela shook their heads in unison. ‘We’ll carry on a bit, and you can catch up with us,’ said Jo. ‘Unless you need our expert opinion?’
Jinnie grinned and dashed inside, leaving the other two to wander on. Before she could change her mind, Jo blurted out, ‘Why don’t you come in Saturday morning for a few hours and see how it goes? I’ll get you up to speed with the hot drinks and serving. It’ll be busy after the holidays, so an extra pair of hands would be useful.’
