Page 50 of A Wish for Jinnie
‘Well, there’s only one way to find out.’ Jinnie cracked her knuckles, making Dhassim wince. ‘By my reckoning it only needs one more rub, so —’
Pulling her pyjama top over her hand, Jinnie gingerly raised the lamp and gave it a wipe. It made a pulsating sound before flying out of Jinnie’s hand and landing at Dhassim’s feet. They stood together, watching as the lamp gyrated furiously. Dhassim grabbed Jinnie’s arm so tightly that she yelped, and he gave out a little squawk as a spinning cloud of silvery mist rose between them. As before, it dissipated, and a human form came into focus. A one-hundred-per-cent female form, with a long inky-black pigtail and a figure that brought to mind Jennifer Lopez.
‘Aaliyah!’ Dhassim relinquished his pincer-like grip on Jinnie’s arm and reached out to the shimmering creature before them.
Jinnie watched in awe as Aaliyah solidified — was that the right term? — and performed what could best be described as a belly dance: hips gyrating, hands clasped and raised above her head. She had an astonishing midriff with not a spare ounce of flesh.
‘Why aye, man!’ Aaliyah shimmied towards Dhassim, her armfuls of gold bangles clanking and her pigtail swinging back and forth. ‘Lookin’ lush, as always.’
Good lord, the genie of Dhassim’s dreams might resemble a famous singer and actress, but she sounded more like TV double act Ant and Dec.What on earth —?
‘I do not understand what you are saying.’ Dhassim turned to Jinnie, bafflement creasing his face. ‘Which foreign land has she come from?’
The not-so-exotic city of Newcastle, judging by the accent, thought Jinnie.Only 90 or so miles away, but with a language all of its own.
‘Alreet, pet.’ Aaliyah ceased her shimmying and looked Jinnie up and down. ‘Are you me man’s mistress, like?’
Jinnie nodded, aware that Dhassim still hadn’t a clue what his long-lost love was talking about. ‘Yes, I am. Delighted to meet you.’ She put out her hand, which Aaliyah shook limply. ‘It’s hard to believe that we found you after all this time.’ Exactly howmuchtime was a mystery, but clearly Aaliyah had spent time in the North East of England (or was a TV addict like Dhassim, but hooked onI’m A CelebrityorGeordie Shore).
‘Can you remember where you met?’ Jinnie wanted to keep the conversation going. Dhassim still had the countenance of a stuffed mullet. An animated one, though: mouth opening and closing, but nothing coming out.
Aaliyah shrugged. ‘Who knows? It’s not important. Our master sold me — ’e was a right wazzock — and I thought we’d never see each other again.’ Her stunning honey-flecked eyes filled with tears, and Dhassim pulled her into his arms. They made an odd couple — statuesque and curvy versus short and wiry — but somehow they matched.A bit like Ant and Dec, thought Jinnie.Two halves of a whole. She couldn’t fathom how they’d both ended up at some old dear’s house in Musselburgh, and subsequently at Sam’s, but it didn’t matter. They’d found each other, and that was what counted.
‘What happens now?’ Dhassim and Aaliyah remained entwined, but they addressed Jinnie.
How the heck would I know?Dhassim’s WIFI was working again, but her last wish, to make Sam love her, had failed. Or rather, it had been redundant because —
‘I need to get back to the shop!’ Caught up in the touching reunion, Jinnie had forgotten about poor Sam. They’d beensoclose to kissing, and this time it promised to be a full-on, not-coming-up-for-air number. If only Aaliyah hadn’t chosen that moment to signal her presence…
‘My beautiful, precious Aaliyah, I think we must co-ordinate our WIFIs and seek the answer to our fate.’ Dhassim whipped his out, and Aaliyah delved down the front of her sequinned crop top to produce an even flashier device. Hers was rose gold and much slimmer, like the latest iPhone. At once the two WIFIs emitted a series of noises and a sequence of lights. A bit like inClose Encounters of the Third Kind, they seemed to be answering each other.
‘Erm, can you hurry this up?’ Jinnie itched to leave, afraid Sam might have deemed her certifiable. Taking off like that, minus coat and boots, didn’t bode well for someone’s sanity.
‘It is hard to read,’ said Dhassim. ‘And I do not want to rush this now that we are together again.’ He caressed Aaliyah’s cheek, and she responded with a feline purr.Yuck!
Jinnie decided to leave them to it and get back to more important business. Well, more important inhereyes. She dashed upstairs, swapped her pyjama top for a fleece, and tugged on her trainers.
Back in the living room, she snatched up an ancient cagoule and paused by the front door. ‘Right, you two. Behave yourselves, and I’ll see you when I get back.’ Jinnie waggled a mock-scolding finger. She didn’t really care if Dhassim and his Geordie genie pal got up to hanky-panky in her absence, as long as they didn’t use her bed…
‘Bye bye,’ cooed Aaliyah, giving Jinnie a dismissive wave. ‘Now where’s me scran, Dhassim? I’m clamming!’
Dhassim looked helplessly at Jinnie.
‘I think she’s hungry,’ replied Jinnie. ‘Feed her. And check outGeordie Shoreon the TV. It might help.’
Chapter 45
Since Angela had bowled in,giddy with excitement over her win and begging to invest in the business, Jo had allowed herself time to sit back and take stock. A cash injection of twenty thousand pounds would go a long way towards getting the catering business on a strong footing. Better equipment, and perhaps a bigger vehicle to transport supplies to venues. Of course they’d need to draw up a proper contract to formalise the arrangement, but Angela’s enthusiasm was infectious. And after all these years working solo, Jo felt perhaps it was time to share the workload.
The café had been open almost an hour, and customers were thin on the ground. The atrocious weather didn’t help. It had been sleeting non-stop overnight, and the roads and pavements were treacherous. Only Janette had braved the elements so far, stopping in for a pea and mascarpone soup and roll to take away.
‘That’ll do nicely for my lunch,’ she said, perching her dripping umbrella in the stand by the door. ‘A wee zap in the micro, and Bob’s your uncle.’ They’d chatted briefly, Janette mentioning possible retirement in the coming months. ‘I’ve squirreled away a fair bit of cash and my pension’s half-decent, but I dinnae ken what I’ll do with myself if I’m no’ working.’
Jo remembered Ken’s quip about Janette having a black belt in macramé. It seemed a lifetime since she’d last seen him, though only a week had passed. She wondered if he might be avoiding her. It was unusual for him not to drop into the café, whereas Jo wasn’t a frequent visitor at the pub. She preferred to stock up on wine in the city, since Janette’s meagre selection was of dubious quality, and drink a glass or two watching TV or listening to music.The sad life of a lonely singleton.
Sighing, Jo went to check on a batch of pasties baking in the oven.Not quite ready yet. She slammed the oven shut just as the café door swung open.
‘Morning, Jo.’ Ken brushed droplets of melted snow from his jacket, then ran a hand through his damp hair. ‘Shocker of a day, eh?’
