Page 18 of A Wish For Jo
'Thanks so much,' Jo said, carefully manoeuvring the birthday cake on to a sturdy board which she covered with a plastic dome. 'All done and dusted in record time. Your help made a big difference.'
Harvey gave Jo a hand to load her van while Aaliyah, supposedly, washed up the party food debris. 'Would you like me to come with you?' he asked. 'I've no big plans for the day, so if you'd like a bit of company…'
Jo's first thought was to say no. She appreciated Harvey's help, but she could manage the delivery on her own. Before she could reply, though, he opened the driver's door and gave Jo a beseeching smile. Something inside Jo gave a dangerous wobble. She opened her mouth to turn down the offer, but instead, the words 'That would be lovely' slipped from her lips and Harvey climbed into the passenger seat. As she pulled away from the kerb, Jo glimpsed Aaliyah at the café door, fluttering her fingers, with a smug look on her face.
CHAPTER20
'Oh,wow! That's amazing, Jo! It makes all my wishes seem a bit pathetic. I guess you're a deeper person than I am.'
Jo and Jinnie were at The Jekyll and Hyde pub for a lunchtime catch-up. Jo had filled Jinnie in on her successful first wish: to spend more time with her parents.
'I still have to pinch myself to believe it happened, but I have souvenirs to remind me.' Jo welled up and Jinnie swiftly produced a pack of tissues.
'All right, ladies?' Ed McCroarty approached their table with two plates of sesame-seared salmon and stir-fried veg.
'All fine,' said Jo. 'Just something in my eye.' She pulled out her compact mirror and made a show of dabbing away the imaginary object.
'When are your folks back?' asked Jinnie. 'They've been away for ages.’
Ed put down the plates and straightened up the condiment rack. 'Tomorrow, I think. I'm losing track of the days, trying to keep this place running and working on my business at the same time.'
'I'd be happy to do a few shifts again if you need me,' said Jinnie. 'I miss pouring pints and having in-depth discussions about life and the universe with Jamie.'
'Sure you do,' replied Ed. 'We both know that getting more than a grunt out of the boy is like squeezing juice out of a rock-hard lemon. Still, he's come round to his mum and I being together. Well, he doesn't mutter "twat" under his breath quite so often.’ Ed wandered back to the bar where Angela and part-timer Rose held the fort.
'I seriously cannot believe I fancied Ed at one point.' Jinnie cut into her salmon, groaning with delight at its flaky tenderness.
'Why ever not? He's a good-looking guy and obviously very fond of you. In a purely platonic way now, of course.’
'Agreed, but I was so muddled in my head when I first moved here. I was licking my wounds after being dumped by my fiancé, not expecting to find myself torn between two men.'
Jo had no desire to be torn between any men. She contemplated mentioning her meal with Harvey, but decided against it. Better to operate on a 'need to know' basis, and Jinnie didn't need to know a thing about Jo's private life. Apart from her visit to her childhood home, obviously, and the fact that she had a temperamental genie invading her personal space.
'You're in love, Jinnie, and that's a wonderful thing,’ she said. ‘Every time I see you with Sam you're lit up like a Christmas tree. He's one of the good ones. Any plans for a wedding?'
Jinnie giggled, and fiddled with the simple ring adorning her finger. 'Not yet. We're still getting to know one another; there's no rush. Heck, who says we evenhaveto get married? Except my gran will kill me if I don't march down the aisle in a frou-frou dress one day, escorted by my dad and praying Archie doesn't belch during the marriage vows.'
Jo knew a little about Jinnie's family. Her doting parents, Rob and Kath, her wildcard gran Wilma, who preferred to age disgracefully, and her brother Archie, making megabucks in the music industry but still an uncouth, socially inept teenager at heart. 'Does Sam… Have you ever told him about the lamps?'
Jinnie shook her head so vigorously that one of her dangly earrings plopped into her Diet Coke. 'Whoops!' She fished it out with a spoon and put it back in. 'No, absolutely not. He has his suspicions about them, but I can't tell him. He'd think I was away with the fairies. That’s not exactly grounds for a stable relationship, is it? Although…'
'Although what?' Jo ate a mouthful of fish and waited.
'Well, just after Dhassim and Aaliyah shimmied back into their lamps, I had a lightbulb moment. About Sam, I mean. I always wondered why they'd ended up with him when they could have gone anywhere. That's when I clocked his name, and it all made sense. OK, none of it makes sense really, and I could be putting two and two together and making five, but…'
Jo regarded her younger companion with amusement. 'What possible link could Sam have with Dhassim and Aaliyah? OK, he picked up the lamps somewhere and gave you one, but what does that prove? And what's his name got to do with it?'
Jinnie scrabbled in her bag, produced her purse, and rummaged through plastic cards and crumpled bits of paper. With an exasperated sigh, she fanned them out on the table until she found what she was looking for. 'Look!' Jinnie thrust a card under Jo's nose.
Jo wrangled her glasses from her head and read:Samuel A. Addin, Out of the Attic Antiques.
'Still not getting it, sweetie. Hang on, I need to eat more fish before it gets cold.' Jo took a bite, then squinted at the card again.
Jinnie looked on the verge of exploding with frustration. 'His middle name is Alistair. But you probably knew that already, seeing as his alter ego is Alistair Scott, author of bestselling gritty crime thrillers.' Two dots of pink flared in Jinnie's cheeks and she took a hasty gulp of water. 'Erm, you did know that, right?'
Jo knew Sam preferred to keep his writing stuff close to his chest. She also knew it was one of the worst-kept secrets in Cranley. Unless you counted the unconfirmed rumour that Janette had once worked as a nightclub hostess in London, stuffing tips down her bra and hanging out with gangland bosses. From big-city glamour to franking Jiffy bags and flogging out-of-date baked beans at a discount. Who knew?
‘OK, give me a moment. Alistair Addin. Is that supposed to mean something? Am I being thick, because I don’t get it.'
