Page 47 of A Wish for Jinnie
‘It might sound crazy, but I kind of fancy getting a tattoo.’
Chapter 42
‘Ach,you’re looking awfy peely-wally, Jinnie.’ Wilma regarded Jinnie sternly as they sat together in her kitchen. Clearly the liberal dusting of blusher she’d applied had failed to disguise her pallor.
It was Monday afternoon, and Jinnie should have been at Sam’s. The weekend had passed without any word from him, despite Jinnie checking her phone at least twenty times a day. She’d wimped out of dropping off the borrowed clothes, figuring it could wait till she felt stronger.
‘I’m OK, Gran. Just glad to see you looking better.’ A few days into the course of antibiotics, Wilma radiated rude health. The dreadful cough had diminished to the odd splutter, and nicotine patches were plastered on both her arms.
‘Are you meant to use more than one at a time?’ Jinnie asked. ‘I mean, can’t you overdose on the stuff?’
Wilma harrumphed and defiantly stuffed a piece of gum in her mouth. ‘Miss Prissy Pants at the surgery said I needed a strong dose to conquer the cravings. Seems to be working, although I did have a smoke this morning.’
Jinnie had swung by her mum and dad’s en route to Wilma’s. They fussed over her as usual, and she left with a bagful of home-made food. Archie was still in London, living it up in a five-star hotel and mixing with the rich and famous. According to Kath, some of his music — ‘Don’t ask me what, it all gives me a migraine’ — would feature on Über Jean’s latest album.
Jinnie had also messaged Hannah to ask if she could crash at her place for a while. She’d offered no explanation, and ignored the barrage of question marks and WTFs that followed. Ed’s comment about Sam having more than a soft spot for her plagued her mind. She didn’t doubt that he liked her; but if hereallyliked her, why hadn’t he been in touch? Round and round her thoughts went, until Dhassim distracted her on Sunday with an all-day Disney movie extravaganza.Beauty and The BeastandToy Storyhad tickled his fancy, but he’d been singularly unimpressed by Robin Williams’ blue genie inAladdin.
‘So, are you going to tell your old gran what’s botherin’ ye?’ Wilma filled the kettle and reached for the tea caddy. ‘I havnae seen you this glum since that chubby wee chap left that boy band.
Jinnie cringed at the memory of being devastated when Robbie quit Take That. She hadn’t even reached her teens then, but she had sobbed for days.
‘It’s nothing, Gran,’ she said, fetching the cups and saucers. ‘I got hold of the wrong end of the stick about something — someone — and made a bit of a fool of myself.’
Wilma raised a badly-pencilled eyebrow and prepared the tea. ‘A man, I’m guessing? Well, if he’s daft enough no’ to realise what a wee diamond you are, he can bugger off! Plenty more fish in the sea, an’ all that.’
Jinnie wasn’t in the mood to discuss her pathetic love life, or, for that matter, to hear what nonsense the tea leaves revealed. To add to her worries, she needed to give notice on the cottage, and inform Ken and Ed that she’d soon be leaving. They hadn’t drawn up a formal contract, but Jinnie hated to let them down. Still, Wilma’s heart was in the right place and it wouldn’t hurt to humour her.
‘Here we go.’ Wilma performed the ritual, Jinnie playing her part.
They both peered at the contents of the cup. As usual, Jinnie couldn’t see anything recognisable.
‘Hmm,’ mused Wilma, chomping loudly on her gum. ‘That’s a tricky one. Could ye fetch my reading glasses from the living room, sweetie? They’re on top of my book.’
Jinnie found the glasses perched on a copy ofSex After Seventy, which Jinnie had no desire to flick through. She wondered if there was a follow-up —Sex After Eighty —or if that was considered a leg-over too far.
‘Thanks, Jinnie. Right, let’s have another gander.’ Wilma pulled the cup closer, her nose grazing its rim. ‘OK. I cannae be totally sure, but it looks a lot like … a horse’s head.’
From where Jinnie stood it might well be a horse’s arse, but either way, she couldn’t imagine it was a good thing. A horse’s head? All that sprang to mind was that horrible scene inThe Godfatherwhen a bloke woke up next to one. It was hardly a good omen, was it? ‘Maybe we should just forget the tea leaves today, Gran. How about a nice cup of coffee inst —’
‘Hawd yer wheesht, lass!’ Wilma put the cup down and folded her arms triumphantly. ‘A horse’s head means a lover. A bit like the umbrella — or was it a kite? — the last time, but it’s no’ often I see animals in the leaves.’
Try as she might, Jinnie couldn’t make the connection between the two. Maybe a bunny rabbit or another cute creature, but what did a horse’s head have to do with love?
‘The leaves are never wrong, sweetie.’ Wilma nodded sagely and Jinnie kept schtum. Yes, the kite one had been near the mark in terms of a wish coming true, but this prediction of a new lover was way off.
‘Gran, right now I’m more likely to fly in the air —now was not the time to reveal she’d done precisely that —than hook up with another man. Can we change the subject, please?’
* * *
Wilma’s tea-leafreading played on Jinnie’s mind all the way home. It was just superstitious nonsense. Wasn’t it?
‘Dhassim?’ she shouted as she walked in the front door, but there was no reply.
For an awful moment Jinnie wondered if he’d gone walkabout. Then she heard the shower running and the dreadful caterwauling that passed for singing. She was desperate to tell him about Angela and … something else. Something she’d dismissed before as pathetic, but now she wondered if it was worth a try. After all, what did she have to lose?
‘Ah, Jinnie. You have run out of my favourite shower gel, and these towels are so harsh on my delicate skin.’ Dhassim stood in the doorway, rubbing half-heartedly at his damp torso. Luckily his lower half was covered by Jinnie’s jogging bottoms, which he now favoured over the harem pants. Would he wear her trackies when he vanished from her life forever? And would his next master or mistress wonder why a genie was a walking advertisement for Hollister?
‘Listen. Your wish came true for Angela.’ Dhassim nodded in a way that suggested he had never doubted its success. ‘To the tune of 50K, which is a bit more than I expected, but —’
