Page 36 of A Wish For Jo
Once dressed, Jo snuck downstairs: she needed a strong cup of tea before making her way home. Popping the kettle on, she wandered into the lounge where Lindsey's photo, absent before, took pride of place on the mantelpiece.
'He loved you very much.' Jo looked at the woman who'd first captured Harvey's heart before being cruelly snatched from his life. 'I hope you're OK with us,' she said, tears filling her eyes at the sadness of Harvey's loss. 'I don't know where we're going or if it'll last, but I'll do my best to make him happy.'
Cup of tea in hand, Jo heard the unmistakable sound of post plopping through the letterbox. She hesitated, unsure whether or not to pick it up. It would be strange to just step over it on her way out, so…
The small pile comprised several flyers and one plain white envelope. Jo scooped them up and carried them into the kitchen. As she propped the pile against the toaster, the name on the envelope caught her eye:Mr H Dempster. Strange, unless he used that name professionally. She'd ask him, but she didn't want to appear nosy. Despite their wonderful night together, Jo feared that Harvey still teetered on a precipice of emotions. One false move, and their fledgling relationship might shatter.
Checking she'd got everything, Jo psyched herself up for a verbal assault from Aaliyah — assuming her genie sidekick had woken up when she got back. The woman had sleep down to an art form.
As she unlocked the door, amazed they'd remembered to lock it as they clung to each other in a frenzied embrace, Jo heard a distinct thud from upstairs, followed by a second: two feet being planted on the floor. Next came the creak of the bedroom door opening and a husky voice: 'Are you still there, Jo?'
Jo hesitated. Better to scarper now and meet up later? Then again, she had no reason to run away. She'd done nothing wrong, and the caffeine-starved inhabitants of Cranley could wait a bit longer for their daily fix. 'I'm still here!' she trilled, slinging her coat back on the hook. She squinted at the blotchy mirror on the coat stand. Eek! She looked like an extra fromDawn of the Dead,and with no means of repairing the damage.
'Are you OK?' Harvey reached the bottom step, dragging a hand across his face. 'I was going to make you some breakfast. Not being presumptuous or anything, but I got in eggs, bacon and black pudding.'
'Ah, that would have been lovely, but I've got to get back home, fix my face and open the café.'
'Your face looks perfect to me.' Harvey stepped forward, and Jo instinctively stepped back. Not only did she look a fright, but she hadn't brushed her teeth or put on deodorant. The last thing she needed was to floor Harvey with a hideous bad-breath-and-body-odour combo. 'At least join me for a cuppa?' His expression reminded Jo of a schoolboy who'd lost at conkers.
'OK, but better make it a quickie.' Jo's cheeks flamed as Harvey's eyes widened in mock surprise. 'The tea, I mean, I don't have time to—'
Harvey closed the space between them and planted a soft kiss on Jo's forehead. 'I'd never want to rush with you, Jo. I hope I can see you again soon.'
'As you've seen more of me than anyone has in a very long time, I'm just delighted you're still interested,' she joked. 'Middle-aged jiggly bits and all.'
Harvey led her into the kitchen and chucked two tea bags in mugs before topping them up with the still-hot water. Jo noticed that he selected a specific mug for himself, the one he'd used before.'Your so-called jiggly bits are what I call womanly curves in all the right places. If I wanted to go to bed with something flat and shapeless, I'd get it on with an ironing board.'
* * *
Still chucklingat Harvey's comment, and basking in his lengthy goodbye kiss, Jo let herself into the house. Maybe she'd have time for a shower and damage repair before Aaliyah stuck her oar in…
'You dirty wee stop out! What time do you call this?' Aaliyah pointed at her WIFI. Not only did it grant wishes, it also acted as a clock and an alarm. An alarm that Aaliyah frequently slept through, although sadly she was now wide awake.
'I call it quarter to nine, and time for both of us to get to work.' Jo smiled sweetly, keen to head off the barrage of snide comments and double entendres gathering force behind Aaliyah's sardonic stare.
'Nice try, pet, but you're not getting off the hook that lightly. I need the skinny on you and horny Harvey. Did the earth move, or was it just the clatter of your chastity belt hitting the floor?’ Aaliyah hooted with glee at her one-liner.
Jo fixed her with a glacial stare and tossed the café keys in her direction. 'My lips are sealed, as should yours be if you want to keep on living here. Go and open up, and I'll join you when I'm showered and ready.'
Leaving Aaliyah cackling and making revolting pseudo-sex noises, Jo thumped up the stairs. A minute later, the door banged.
Jo sat on the edge of her bed and allowed herself a moment to reflect on the previous night. She could count her lovers on the fingers of one hand, but none had made her feel the way Harvey did. Not even her fiancé — certainly not her fiancé — who’d regarded her body as a raunchier version of the children's board game Operation. Graham had poked and prodded, never quite hitting the mark. Luckily, Jo's nose never lit up during his inept fumbling.
Showered and dressed, Jo locked up and headed to the café. She felt light and carefree, enveloped in a little bubble of joy. Nothing, and no one, was going to burst it today.
CHAPTER37
'Doyou have this in other colours?' Jo held up the pretty moss-green top. Well, pretty on anyone else, but it didn't flatter her skin tone.
'I might have it in powder blue. Let me check.' Alison Gale disappeared behind the curtain at the back.
Jo continued rifling through the rail of tops and blouses, determined to find something new for tonight's date with Harvey. She'd already sorted out her best underwear — well, second best, as her finest still languished in the laundry basket after her night of passion.
'Sorry, give me a minute,' shouted Alison.
'No problem,' replied Jo, fingers alighting on a bodysuit in charcoal grey shot through with fine threads of silver. Too daring? It would eliminate the need for knickers, but those pesky poppers presented a challenge both to the wearer and any poor sod attempting to undo them.
Pushing the bodysuit aside, Jo reached for a simple but classy white blouse with mother-of-pearl buttons and a ruffled collar. A bit Lady Di, but teamed with her trusty black skirt, it might speak of starchy schoolmistress with an underlying hint of—
