Page 39 of A Wish For Jo
Before Jo could retort that there was no room at the inn, Janette bustled in, accompanied by Cranley's queen of bubble perms and blue rinses, Peggy. 'Whit are you for, Peggy?' asked Janette. 'Ooh, you've got chocolate éclairs, Jo. My absolute favourite.' Raising her head from the cake display, Janette spotted Dhassim and eyed him with even more enthusiasm than she'd given the éclairs. 'And who do we have here? A new recruit, Jo? Business must be booming if you need two assistants. And a rather tasty wee specimen, if I say so myself.'
'Enchanté. I am Dhassim. And you, beautiful lady, are…?'
Janette flushed to the roots of her newly shorn hair. 'Get away with you, you silver-tongued rascal. Janette's the name and this is my hairdresser extraordinaire, Peggy.'
'Nice to meet you,' said Peggy, shyly, as Aaliyah gripped Dhassim's arm possessively. 'Are you two related, by any chance?'
'Absolutely not.' Jo wished she had a crowbar to separate the lovebirds. Instead, she barked out an order to Aaliyah to grate some cheese. Aaliyah pouted, pecked Dhassim on the cheek, and retreated into the back.
'But they look so alike,' pressed Peggy. 'Exotic and — what's the word — unScottish.'
'Ah, that's because the lass is from down south or some other far-flung place.' Janette smirked, proud of her knowledge, and hefted herself into a chair. 'You might want to tighten up your apron, son. I'm no' sure my ticker can cope with nipples at this time of day. Or any time of day, to be frank.'
Peggy joined Janette at the table. Jo glowered at Dhassim, who glowered back. Eventually, Dhassim covered up his torso and shimmied over to the ladies. 'So, coffee, tea or me?' he asked, with a seductive hip wiggle.
Janette fanned herself with a paper napkin. Peggy asked for a tea — 'just dunk the bag for a second, pale and interesting is the way to go' — and Janette opted for a glass of milk.
'The lass has fabulous hair,' commented Peggy. 'I used to have hair like that back in the day.' She ran forlorn fingers through the thinning strands clinging to her scalp.
'Aye, and I used to look like Sophia Loren.' Janette took a slurp of milk, the residue adhering to her top lip. 'Any chance of those éclairs, darlin'?'
Aaliyah sauntered back in, chewing on a chunk of cheese.Should I make a run for it?thought Jo. Perhaps Harvey was still in the pub. She could order another wine, squeeze his hand till his knuckles blanched, and tell him about the insanity whirling around her. Except she couldn't. Whatever cards Harvey kept close to his chest, Jo's story of house-sharing with one and now possibly two genies would trump them all. And not in a good way.
'I've a special on at the salon now.' Peggy neatly chopped her éclair into four even pieces. 'A tenner for a cut, nose and ear-hair trimming included.'
Jo's head buzzed like a swarm of angry bees. A red mist blurred her vision and she tried to claw her way back to reality.
Aaliyah gave Peggy a withering stare. 'Are you suggesting I have hair growing out of my nostrils and ears?'
Peggy laughed and pointed at Dhassim. 'Not you, love. Your, erm, whoever he is.'
Now it was Dhassim's turn to look affronted. 'I am very happy with my hair, thank you. And like Aaliyah, I do not have extra hairs sprouting elsewhere. Unlike you' — he stabbed a finger at Peggy — 'with several sticking out of your—'
'Dhassim! That's enough!' Jo shrieked. Janette tipped half her milk down her front and poor Peggy fingered her chin with a wounded expression. 'Could you two please go through to the back and find something useful to do?'
Granted a few moments' respite from the dynamic duo, Jo stammered out an apology to Janette and Peggy. Janette dabbed at her soggy jumper and Peggy pulled out a compact mirror to scrutinise her chin.
'You didn't say who That's Him is.' Janette brandished her glass for a refill.
'Whowhat?' The buzzing in Jo's head had upgraded to men in hobnailed boots performing an exuberant rendition of Riverdance.
'That's Him. Strange name, mind. Is he on one of them government training schemes? I had a lad once come for work experience. Huh, the only thing he experienced was a clip round the ear when I caught him emptying the till into his backpack.'
'His name is Dhassim.' Jo enunciated the name carefully. 'And he's a friend of Aaliyah's. He's just passing through and helping out for a few days.'If only that were true.
'Right, Peggy.' Janette wrapped the remains of her éclair in a napkin and swigged her milk. 'Let's get a wiggle on and leave Jo in peace to deal with her wee team. You'll be wishing for a quiet life after having to keep tabs on those two!'
Jo slammed the door as soon as they left. Dammit,wishes! Did Dhassim's unexpected appearance mean that she had to come up with three more wishes, on top of the one still outstanding?
CHAPTER39
If Harvey scratchedhis head (metaphorically) any harder, his nails would connect with his grey matter. What was the real story with Jo's assistant? The errant daughter of a friend, or … something else?
Everybody had secrets, not all of them earth-shattering or life-changing. Lindsey's biggest secret had been a fondness for cheesy songs from the seventies and eighties. She'd pretended to like the cool stuff, but her real passion lay with one-hit wonders and groups who bounced around onTop Of The Topswith mullet hairdos and dodgy outfits. Many before Lindsey's time, like 'Y Viva Espana' with its rattling maracas, and 'Shaddup You Face’, which still brought Harvey out in a rash.
As for his own big secret… Being a gullible old fool who'd trusted a young woman with an agenda to advance her career. Innocent until proven guilty, but without any court case, the simmering accusations had left a permanent stain on Harvey's character. Abby had refused to confirm or deny her allegations to this day.No smoke without fire. She was currently starring in a six-part TV drama, playing the Xanax-addicted wife of a controlling older man whose previous wife had died in suspicious circumstances. Against his better judgement, Harvey had watched the first episode. Abby played the victim very well. In fact, she had it down to a tee.
Harvey checked the time. Still two hours until Jo came round for dinner. She'd invited him to her place, but Harvey wanted to impress her with his cooking skills. Heating up ready meals and toasting Pop Tarts would hardly earn him the title of MasterChef.
