Page 45 of A Wish For Jo
Jo took an educated guess and reached for the cupboard directly above the kettle. Bingo! A handful of mugs sat on the lower shelf, the upper one empty apart from a small stack of side plates. None of the mugs matched, not that it bothered Jo. She loved her eclectic mix of tableware at A Bit of Crumpet, as did her customers.
Hearing Harvey clatter around in the lounge, Jo grabbed a pale-grey mug decorated with snowflakes. Another caught her eye: mauve and white, with a sepia photo of a couple on a bench, and the words,The most wasted day of all is that on which we have not laughed.Well, today hasn't been totally wasted, she mused, her fingertips touching the delicate handle.
An almighty crash from the other room startled Jo. The mug slipped from her grasp and shattered on the worktop, pieces cascading on to the floor.
'What the—' Harvey stood in the doorway, clutching a charger cable. His gaze swept from the worktop to the shards below, then alighted on Jo. His face contorted, a darkness descending that chilled Jo to the bone.
'I'm so, so sorry,' she stammered. 'I heard a crash and it startled me. It was an accident. Please, let me clean up and I'll pay for a replacement.'
'It can't be replaced.' Harvey pushed past Jo and unearthed a dustpan and brush from under the sink. 'Some things can never be replaced.'
Stunned at his reaction, Jo rushed into the lounge and grabbed her purse, then hurried back to the kitchen and slapped a ten-pound note on the worktop. 'If it's not enough, let me know. Again, I'm sorry. I'll let myself out.'
Minutes later she was home, still shaken by what had happened. Clearly the mug held significant value to Harvey, but emotional rather than monetary. Yet Jo couldn't comprehend the dramatic change in his demeanour, from amiable host to hostile witness of an innocent mishap. As it turned out, her first assessment had been correct. Harvey Quinn was a man to be avoided.
CHAPTER43
'Yes,that's no problem. I can do a selection of savoury and sweet nibbles and a princess-themed cake for the birthday girl. Just email me details of any special requirements and any allergies.'
Jo ended the call, about her first catering job in a while. It brought back memories of Harvey helping out, and how her opinion of him had softened. But she had to face facts: the man had serious issues that she couldn't fix. And it was more than grief for his wife; he kept something else locked away beneath that taciturn exterior.
'Hey, Jo, you look like you lost a fiver and found a penny. Everything OK?'
Pocketing her phone, Jo looked up at Jinnie's concerned face. Next to her stood Sam, with Jinnie's gran Wilma bringing up the rear, wheeling her tartan trolley. 'I've had better weeks, but seeing you always helps.'
'Aye, I feel the same when Jinnie pops round for a wee cuppa and a tea-leaf reading,' interjected Wilma, adding a curse as one of the trolley's wheels snagged on a rogue tile. 'Mind you, since she snagged Mr Dreamboat her visits are nae as frequent.'
Jinnie tutted and Sam gave a wry smile. 'You know that's not true, Gran. I still see you most weeks,andwe took you to The Edinburgh Dungeon for your birthday.'
'Interesting choice, Wilma,' said Jo, ushering them to a table. 'Wasn't it scary?'
Wilma parked her trolley in the corner and gave a witch-like cackle. 'Sweetie, when you've lived as long as me, not much scares you. I had a bigger fright the other day when Madge from next door dropped in for lunch. She got a fit of the hiccups and her teeth landed in the lentil soup.'
Howls of laughter followed, and Jo wiped away tears — this time happy ones — as she assembled their order on a tray. Both Aaliyah and Dhassim were tucked away in the back, tasked with washing Tupperware and tins and binning those past their prime. At least theywere, until Dhassim strutted into the café flapping a tea towel like a demented matador.
'Jo, my delicate skin cannot cope with all this scrubbing and scraping. Look!' He proffered a hand with a pinkish hue.
A gasp from the corner distracted Jo from examining Dhassim's hand further. 'Oh my God!' Jinnie's face was chalk-white.
Sensing a scenario defying any logical explanation, Jo hustled Dhassim away with promises of soothing lotions and a break from scrubbing duties. She wasn’t quite fast enough to stop Dhassim from blowing a kiss at Jinnie and winking at Sam, though.
'Isn't that your long-lost cousin?' Sam frowned at Jinnie, who was watching Dhassim's retreat with open-mouthed horror. 'David, the one who got jet lag flying from Jersey.'
Realising that Jinnie had lost the power of speech, Jo launched into damage limitation mode. 'No, no, that's Dhassim. He’s a friend of Aaliyah's, just staying for a bit until his flat gets sorted out. It, erm, flooded when he left the bath running.'
'That happened to me once,' said Wilma. 'My late husband, bless him, fancied a bit of a splash around, if you catch my drift. The daft pillock went off to the shops to buy some bubble bath and left the taps on. And I didnae notice, because I was having a wee kip before we—'
'Gran, too much information!' Jinnie, thankfully back in the zone, cut Wilma off before she expanded on her bath-time frolics. 'Let's enjoy our drinks and cake and — Sam, didn't you have an appointment back at the shop?'
Sam shook his head. 'I don't think so, Jinnie. And I'm still puzzled about what's going on here. You looked really shocked when David — I mean, Dhassim — appeared.'
Poor Jinnie. Jo hurriedly doled out the food and drinks. Wilma took charge, pouring teas and slicing pastries and scones.
'I'm sure you had something to do or someone to see. Oh, I think I left the kettle on!' Jinnie clapped her hands together gleefully, while the others mirrored Sam's perplexed expression.
'Don't the electric ones switch themselves off, sweetie?' said Wilma, piling jam onto her scone. 'Or has Sam got one of thae hob ones that keeps boiling till the room turns into a sauna?'
'It's electric, but the switch is a bit dodgy so it doesn't always turn off. Sam, I think you'd better go and check.' Jinnie squeezed Sam's hand and gave him a beseeching look.
