Page 35 of A Wish for Jinnie
‘Hmm,so my name is David, my mother is from Tunisia and I live in a place called Jersey.’ Dhassim and Jinnie gazed at a map, red pen circling his alleged country of birth and current place of residence. ‘And I am here because…?’
‘You wanted to visit Scotland,’ repeated Jinnie for the umpteenth time. ‘And your luggage got lost, so that’s why Sam’s lent you his things.’ Unfortunately, a quick internet search at the shop revealed there were no direct flights from Jersey to Edinburgh during the winter season. Jinnie prayed that Sam wouldn’t know this and question Dhassim on his travel schedule.
‘I am not feeling comfortable in these.’ Dhassim tugged at the waistband of Sam’s jeans, a plaid shirt tucked in haphazardly. One of Jinnie’s belts was cinched to the max, reminding her that ol’ snake-hips Dhassim was narrower round the middle than she was. Maybe she could use up another wish to become a perfect size ten for evermore, but instantly dismissed the thought. Her wishes so far had been fairly shallow. However many were left, Jinnie decided they would be more meaningful than nice hair or a smaller arse.
‘You look fine,’ she scolded, rolling up the trouser legs a little more. ‘Channelling your inner lumberjack. I’ll explain what that is another time.’ Dhassim might not look capable of snapping a twig, never mind chopping down a tree, but he’d have to do. Jinnie laced up her hiking boots for him like a mother getting her child ready for school, as Dhassim stared at them in bafflement. ‘There, you’re good to go. Now pop this on,’ — Jinnie helped him into an ancient coat she’d pinched from her dad years ago — ‘and let’s get going.’ Ignoring Dhassim’s muttering that the shirt was making him itch, she dragged him into the street.
‘Hey, good to meet you, David!’ Sam extended his hand and shook Dhassim’s vigorously. His pronunciation was spot-on, but his handshake provoked a squeak of pain. Jinnie suppressed an eye-roll and announced that she would stick the kettle on. Not that shewantedto leave them alone, but hovering around Dhassim like a mother hen might look a bit suspicious.
‘It’s a shame you’re only here a short time,’ Sam said, as Jinnie sidled off, ear cocked for any cock-ups. ‘I’ve never been to Jersey, but I visited Guernsey once years ago. Have you lived there long?’
‘I believe so,’ replied Dhassim. ‘The passing of time is not something I choose to dwell upon. We are all mere specks in the universe, adrift on a tide we cannot control. Our destiny is written in the stars.’ He tapped his nose in a knowing manner. ‘Although some of us are able to play —'
‘Scrabble!’ Jinnie scuttled back, clutching a handful of tea bags and a packet of Hobnobs. ‘Dha — David is pretty nifty at Scrabble. Beat me hands-down the other night. He’s very spiritual too. Into yoga and karma and — stuff.’ She juggled the tea bags and biscuits, deftly kicking Dhassim in the shin at the same time.
‘Ouch!’ He fixed Jinnie with a wounded glare, while Sam appeared not to have noticed her brief assault.
‘I’ll make the tea, and you can give David the grand tour of the shop,’ he said, relieving Jinnie of her burden. ‘Don’t worry, David, it won’t take long. If anything catches your eye, I’ll do you a good price.’ Sam winked and went into the back room.
‘You were about to reveal yourself!’ hissed Jinnie. ‘And I don’t mean inthatway,’ she added, as Dhassim checked his flies. ‘Remember you’re a mere mortal here, and being able to play a hand in people’s fates isnotsomething you share. Got it?’
With a petulant nod, Dhassim gave his shin a rub and sashayed over to a display of costume jewellery. He flicked through pendants and bracelets, pausing to hold a diamante-encrusted medallion up to his chest. ‘What do you think, Jinnie?’ he purred, unbuttoning the shirt a fraction to reveal his baby-smooth skin. ‘It gives me a certainje ne sais quoi, don’t you agree?’
Jinnie thought it made him look like a seventies porn star, but he couldn’t buy it anyway. Dhassim might have a wish-granting gizmo and an enviable bottom, but genies weren’t equipped with wallets and credit cards. ‘Put it back,’ she ordered. ‘Sam will come through in a minute and you need to act normally. Say as little as possible, and put your WIFI on silent mode.’ The device had an annoying habit of making pinging and beeping noises, often competing with Dhassim’s snoring to keep Jinnie awake.
‘I left it behind,’ Dhassim retorted, stroking the medallion once more before hanging it up. ‘Do not worry your pretty little head, I shall be on my best behaviour. Ah, here is Sam now.’
They gulped down their tea. At least, Jinnie and Sam did, while Dhassim sniffed his suspiciously and focused on devouring half a pack of Hobnobs. He kept his answers to Sam’s questions brief, and Sam didn’t press too hard for information.
‘Right, shall we adjourn to the pub?’ he said. Jinnie nodded gratefully, feeling a stiff drink might be necessary to calm her fear of Dhassim putting his trainer-clad foot in it. It was just after five, and unlikely any more customers would appear. ‘Oh, I forgot to mention, Jinnie, but I unearthed a couple of boxes in the back room earlier.’
Jinnie frowned, wondering where this was going. Dhassim was already back at the jewellery stand, fingering the medallion with barely disguised longing. ‘You can have it,’ said Sam. He walked over and unhooked the hideous object, dropping it into Dhassim’s outstretched palm. ‘A little welcome-to-Scotland gift.’
‘Thank you.’ Dhassim gave a flamboyant bow, and fastened the medallion around his neck. ‘You are a kind and generous man. Now I understand why Jinnie finds you —’
‘A great boss and a good friend,’ Jinnie said, wishing she could kick Dhassim again. ‘Anyway, tell me about these boxes in the back.’
‘I haven’t had time for a proper look, but it’s possible the second lamp I told you about is in there. I’ll check later. Right, where’s my wallet?’ Sam rummaged in his pockets, and Jinnie walked to the door.
She turned to see Dhassim swaying like a sunflower in a breeze, his face ashen. Jinnie grabbed his elbow and guided him to a wing-backed chair.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Sam. He hurried to Dhassim’s side, and placed a comforting arm around Jinnie’s shoulders. She tried to ignore the frisson of excitement his contact evoked, and knelt to look Dhassim in the eye.
‘Are you OK?’ Jinnie didn’t need to be Einstein to figure out the reason for his pallor. Not that Sam would understand, and she wasn’t about to reveal the truth about her distant ‘cousin’.
‘I am a little shaken,’ replied Dhassim. ‘What if it is —’
‘Jet lag!’ Jinnie clapped her hands together, instead of placing them around Dhassim’s throat. How many times did she have to cut him off mid-sentence before he put his size six foot in it?
‘Erm, jet lag?’ queried Sam. He still had his arm around Jinnie’s shoulders, and she fought the urge to snuggle closer. ‘He only flew from Jersey … or did you mean New Jersey?’ He looked from Jinnie to Dhassim, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.
‘OK, maybe not jet lag, but exhaustion from the journey. He’s not a frequent flyer.’ Unless you counted magic-carpet rides. And he’d only taken her on one, although who knew how many other women he’d soared through the skies with?
‘I’ll get a glass of water,’ said Sam, releasing his hold on Jinnie and heading to the small kitchen.
‘Are you feeling better?’ Jinnie asked. The colour had returned to Dhassim’s cheeks. He still looked shaken, but gave a weak smile.
‘Do you think this other lamp could be Aaliyah’s?’ he whispered, his face a picture of cautious optimism.
