Page 37 of A Wish for Jinnie
‘All OK?’ Ed crouched down in front of Jinnie and touched her cheek. ‘You gave me a scare. Can’t be having my favourite staff member keel over, can I?’ Now Sam wanted to stick his fingers down his throat. Did Ed have to flirt so blatantly with Jinnie in front of him?
‘Yes, my drink went down the wrong way. No need to call an ambulance!’ Jinnie smiled.
David tapped Ed on the shoulder and pointed at the menu. ‘Can I please have a chocolate fudge cake? With vanilla ice cream. Anyone else?’ He looked at Jinnie and Sam, both of whom declined.
With Ed gone, Sam struggled to recall what they’d been talking about. Oh yes. How the downright odd David earned a crust. ‘I didn’t get to hear what your job is, David. Anything exciting?’
David appeared perplexed by the question. Jinnie coughed loudly, and poked him in the ribs. Perhaps he was unemployed, and embarrassed to admit it. Or he worked for some top-secret agency and couldn’t talk about it —
‘I grant wishes!’ The words burst from his mouth, followed by a howl of either anguish or mirth from Jinnie. It was hard to tell, as she’d buried her face in her hands.
‘OK. That’s … very interesting.’ Sam wasn’t often lost for words, apart from the dreaded writer’s block, but this one had him stumped. Either David was officially bonkers, or —
‘That’s right, he does, but not in a crazy fairytale way. Of course not, that would be insane. Goodness me, who would ever believe such a thing!’ Jinnie sat bolt upright, her eyes glittering manically. ‘David, you have such a funny way of saying things!’
Dessert arrived. Sam contemplated ordering more wine, then decided against it. He wanted to be clear-headed when he heard what David’s job really was.
‘The thing is … he works for a charity that makes dreams come true for … sick people.’ Jinnie nodded with enthusiasm. ‘Mainly sick children, but they sometimes help older people too. You know the kind of thing: a trip to Disneyland, swimming with dolphins, visiting Santa Claus in Lapland.’
Sam was convinced Jinnie was fibbing. David, meanwhile, was stuffing cake into his mouth, and merely nodded.
‘He, erm, doesn’t really like to talk about it,’ she continued. ‘So heartbreaking, all these little ones with life-threatening conditions. Such a worthwhile cause, but it takes its toll. Mentally, I mean.’
Sam suspected David was indeed a sandwich short of a picnic. Still, at least he was leaving the next day. He had no idea what the truth was, but his instinct told him that something was amiss.
‘All finished? Great! Let’s leave Sam in peace.’ Jinnie had her coat on, and threw down some cash for the dessert. ‘David’s looking a bit peaky, so I’ll take him home if that’s OK. Come along, David.’ And with lightning speed, they departed.
Sam headed to the bar, ordered another glass of wine, and knocked half of it back in one. What on earth had that been about?
Chapter 35
‘You’re good at this.’Jo smiled as Angela tipped out used coffee grounds and refilled the machine. Two pots of freshly brewed tea sat on trays alongside slices of apple pie, and jugs of pouring cream completed the order. Angela scribbled down requests for sausage baps, hot chocolate and fruitcake, then nipped out back to remove a batch of bread rolls from the oven.
‘It’s not rocket science, but yeah, it’s all coming back to me now. Me and Mum baking up a storm in the kitchen, pretending it didn’t matter when Dad staggered in complaining that his tea wasn’t on the table.’ Angela rubbed her eyes. Possibly because of the steam from the oven, or —
‘Are they still around?’ Jo wiped down the counter as Angela prepared more orders. ‘Your parents, I mean.’
She waited as her new assistant darted out from behind the counter, helping an old lady who’d got her handbag strap entangled with the chair. Angela then held the door open for a young mum and her pushchair, bending down to pull silly faces at the wailing toddler.
‘Right. Where were we? Hang on, let me get these out first.’ Jo felt like the new kid on the block as Angela zipped from table to table. For someone with so little self-confidence, she handled the job like a seasoned pro. It had only been a couple of hours, but Jo’s vision of offering outside catering seemed achievable. As long as Angela was interested…
‘OK. You were asking about my folks.’ Angela sipped from a glass of water, her gaze steady. ‘My dad disappeared when I was fifteen, and we haven’t heard a dicky bird from him since. Might be dead, and to be honest, I couldn’t care less about the drunken bastard.’
Jo flinched at Angela’s words. Not because she was shocked, more because the tremor in Angela’s voice contradicted the statement. At a guess, it must be twenty years or so since Angela’s father left. And if the gossip-mongers were to be believed, she’d had Jamie in her mid-teens and been left high and dry by the boy’s father, too.
‘And your mum?’
‘She’s still around, but we don’t talk much these days.’
Another customer approached the counter, looking for a hot-water refill for their teapot. Jo obliged, and nodded at Angela to continue. ‘She was good at the start, helping with Jamie. I guess I took advantage a bit — well, a lot — and left him with her more and more so I could hang out with my mates. He wasn’t an easy baby, and he’s still a handful, but I was only sixteen. Nowhere near ready for that kind of responsibility.’
Jo couldn’t imagine how tough it had been. Abandoned by her father, pregnant in her mid-teens, watching her friends carry on with their lives. She couldn’t blame Angela for wanting to escape, but felt sorry for her mum.
‘How come you don’t talk much now?’
‘Mainly because of my drinking,’ replied Angela. ‘It got out of hand — “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” was one of Mum’s favourite sayings. I left school because of having Jamie, and it was easier to get hammered than face the fact that my life was a train wreck.’
Jo waited for Angela to continue, her heart going out to the young woman’s plight.
