Page 14 of A Wish For Jo
'OK.' Jo stretched out the word, her expression neutral. And yet something, amusement or perhaps irritation, flashed in her eyes. Again, she reminded him of Lindsey. Not just the physical resemblance, but her spirit. In another life, Jo might have been the kind of woman he'd be attracted to. But stuck in this one, with all his baggage, that was a no-go area.
'I'll, um, leave you to it. Have a good day.’ Jo lobbed a pack of triple-cooked chips into her basket and turned away.
Harvey stood for a moment, teetering on the brink. Lindsey’s voice was in his head.Stop being a complete eejit, H. You like her, and God help her, maybe she likes you too.
Did she? He didn't even like himself, which made it hard to believe that anyone else would spare him a nanosecond of their time. He looked at his basket: the contents screamed ‘Lonely guy about to eat on his own again.’ Wouldn't it be nice to sit down with someone and just chat? A meal deal, with plenty to share. Nothing ventured, nothing gained…
‘Jo, hang on a minute.' Harvey caught up with her at the till queue. 'I wondered if maybe … if you didn't have other plans … we could eat together? Tonight? At my place. Unless the thought of slumming it at Brae Cottage fills you with horror.'
Jo placed the last items on the belt. The sticky toffee pudding and profiterole stack glided by and she pulled a 'what's a girl to do?' face. 'That sounds good. I'll bring dessert and you can fill me in on the life of Harvey, the enigmatic stranger to Cranley and all its dubious charms.'
'Seven o'clock?' Harvey stammered, doubt trickling through his veins. This was insanity. This was adate.
No, this was not a date. This was a chance to prove that Harvey Quinn had a decent bone or two in his body. Not that many people believed that these days.
Jo swiped her credit card and packed away the purchases. 'So, see you at seven?'
Harvey nodded. 'Just one thing. Can you bring the triple-cooked chips?'
CHAPTER16
Jo's tripto Edinburgh had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. She'd needed to get away, following the all-too-brief time with her parents. Such a bittersweet second chance; she wished it could have been much longer.
Jo had woken up dazed in her Cranley home, convinced it had been a dream. But it had been real. She'd found a scrunched-up Nardini's napkin in the pocket of her high-waisted jeans, folded neatly at the end of the bed alongside her teenage blouse and grown-up clothes. She had no memory of travelling back — or rather, forwards — in time, but she'd treasure every precious extra moment she'd had with the two people she loved most in the world.
Leaving Aaliyah in charge of A Bit of Crumpet had been a last-minute call that had filled Jo with terror. What if Aaliyah insulted someone, or served a gluten-laden cookie to someone with coeliac disease? Jo knew her regulars, and paid attention to dietary requests from the odd passing customer. Luckily, all seemed to have gone well.
Now, though, things were less smooth. ’You’re not going on a date looking likethat?' Aaliyah looked Jo up and down with a lip so curled it made Elvis look like a novice.
Jo shrugged. She was wearing a simple linen top and comfortable jeans, unlike the high-waisted horrors she'd never fit into again unless she opted for gastric-band surgery. Her hair was in a loose topknot, her make-up not so much subtle as barely there. What was wrong with that? 'It's not a date. He's just a lonely guy with an attitude problem.'Like someone else I know.
'Whatever. I'm telling you, hun, if you're looking for some action, that outfit and face paint isn't going to deliver. Take it from an expert.'
'We're eating together, not indulging in rampant sex. And even if I was interested in him in that way — which I'mnot— he'll have to take me as he finds me. Aaliyah, I appreciate your comments, but this is how I'm going out.'
Her genie sidekick shook her head, ponytail swinging. 'Not happening, girlfriend. What kind of Wish Fulfilment Assistant would I be if I didn't grant a few wee favours?’ She opened Jo’s wardrobe with a flourish and pushed the contents around, muttering under her breath.
'Aaliyah, I'm not getting changed, and that's that. Get your mitts off my clothes and get out of my—'
Jo gasped as Aaliyah gave a triumphant whoop and held up a stunning wraparound dress in dusky blue, embossed with tiny pink swallows. She'd never seen it before. Nor had she ever seen the cute navy suede ankle boots with heels just low enough to walk in.
Jo took the dress and boots, gazing at them. The silence was broken only by the unmistakable buzz and beep of Aaliyah's WIFI gizmo. 'This isn't a wish, is it? Because I'm pretty sure I didn't wish for a new outfit.' Jo couldn't deny how much she liked the ensemble, though. Without trying it on, she knew it would flatter her curves and give her a boost in the height department.
'Nah. I did an update on my WIFI last night and it's decided to go a bit mental, like. You've totally got two proper wishes left. Call this a bonus, but your coupon still needs some work.'
Coupon? Despite her Scottish heritage, it took Jo a few seconds to understand. As she'd said to Jinnie, the Geordie lass was segueing into a Scotswoman day by day. ‘My face needs work?’
'All you need is a decent covering of foundation, a bit of eyebrow shaping, and some eyeliner and mascara. Oh, and a pop of colour to emphasise those cheekbones. Those need all the help they can get.'
Reluctantly accepting that Aaliyah was to tact what pollen was to hay-fever sufferers, Jo sat down and let Aaliyah get to work. Fifteen minutes later, Aaliyah stepped back with a satisfied sigh and passed Jo her hand mirror.
Jo blinked in amazement. She might not look ten years younger, but Aaliyah had worked miracles. Her skin looked dewy and fresh, her eyebrows no longer resembled a pair of disgruntled caterpillars, and she'd been spot on with the cheekbone comment. Amazingly, Aaliyah had opted for subtlety, with just a hint of liner and enough mascara to achieve an eye-popping but not overdone effect. 'Crikey, I'm stunned. I look like myself, but a shiny, improved version. What can I say but thank you!'
Aaliyah gave a swooping bow. ‘You're very welcome. I did my best to fill in the cracks but I'm a genie, not a plasterer.' Before Jo could howl in protest, Aaliyah winked and cracked a genuine, from-the-heart grin. ‘I'll step out while you get dressed. I suggest you accessorise with silver jewellery and let your hair down.'
Literally or figuratively?Jo pondered, as she stripped to her undies and slipped on the dress. It fitted perfectly, as did the ankle boots, once she'd located an unopened pair of tights. She had no intention of letting her hair down in Harvey’s presence, though. A simple meal, a bit of harmless chat, then home for a camomile tea and deep slumber.
Unclipping her hair, Jo raked through it with her fingers. Remarkably, it fell into place. Had Aaliyah arranged that, too? Probably not, though her erstwhile partner in beautification still mystified her.Of course she does. She’s a genie, and you don't come across one of those very often.Maybe I should embrace the madness and just accept it.
