Page 11 of A Wish For Wilma
Sam shrugged. ‘Janette was holding forth about the miracle of the Fast 800 Diet, whatever that is. Judging by the speed with which she scoffed two toasted teacakes, she’s a bit confused about the meaning of fast.’
Jinnie chuckled and followed Sam into the kitchen. He laid out the selection of scones, muffins and tiffin — a particular favourite of Wilma’s — and Jinnie placed her nicest tea cups and saucers on a tray.
‘Let’s eat in the dining room,’ said Sam. ‘Show Wilma and her squeeze that we can be proper posh.’
‘If you think I’m ironing linen napkins, you can think again,’ grumbled Jinnie. ‘They can make do with IKEA paper ones just like we do.’
Half an hour later, Wilma and Gus arrived with an enormous bouquet of flowers and two bottles of fizz. ‘One with alcohol, one without,’ said Wilma. ‘Not that I stayed off the booze when I was expecting your dad. A cheeky wee half pint of stout of an evening, or a sherry on high days and holidays. And he turned out all right, didn’t he?’
Drinks poured, they settled in the lounge. Jinnie curled up on the comfiest sofa, sipping her alcohol-free drink and observing Gus. He was handsome in a rugged way, with close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair and forearms that spoke of heavy lifting and hard graft. She knew that he and Wilma went back decades but had lost touch until recently.
‘It’s a real pleasure to meet you both,’ said Gus, his giant paw dwarfing the champagne flute. ‘Wilma never stops talking about you and how excited she is to become a great-granny.’
At this, Wilma puffed out an exasperated breath. ‘Haven’t I already told you I want to be called Gan Gan, or maybe Nonna? That sounds much more exotic.’
‘Gran, you’re neither a member of the Royal FamilynorItalian. Let’s keep it simple, OK?’ Jinnie rolled her eyes at Sam, who gave a noncommittal shrug. Gus’s piercing blue eyes twinkled and he winked at Wilma.
‘Well, I don’t know about everyone else, but I’m starving. Let’s adjourn to the dining room for tea and cake.’ Jinnie tried and failed to lever herself out of the sofa, Sam coming to the rescue with a helping hand.
‘Now who’s coming over all royal?’ Wilma knocked back the rest of her fizz and emitted a genteel burp. ‘Gus, they’re laying on the special treatment for you. Usually we’re hunkered round the kitchen table with chipped mugs and a packet of Jammie Dodgers.’
Tutting loudly, Jinnie left Sam to lead the way. She returned to the kitchen, switching on the kettle and tearing the cellophane off a pack of paper napkins. As she gathered milk and sugar, Wilma appeared in the doorway. ‘Anything I can do, pet? Here, let me take that tray through while you make the tea.’
Jinnie smiled and pecked her gran on the cheek. ‘Gus seems nice. Are you, erm, seeing a lot of each other?’ Her face flamed as she realised the double entendre.
Wilma gave a coquettish grin and tapped the side of her nose. ‘Aye. He’s tackling a long list of jobs around the house, so you could say that. Nice tae have a bit of male company at my age.’
Joining the men in the lounge, Jinnie handed out plates and Wilma poured the tea. ‘Has Gran treated you to a tea-leaf reading yet, Gus?’ asked Jinnie.
‘Ach, you know I’ve moved on to crystals now,’ retorted Wilma, helping herself to a slice of tiffin. ‘In fact, I’ve picked out a stone for you: something to help the birth go smoothly. It’s in my handbag. I’ll fetch it once I’ve tucked into this…’ As Wilma lowered herself into the chair, she yelped. ‘What on earth is that?’
Jinnie gasped. Sam’s eyebrows rocketed north and Gus leapt to his feet, holding out a steadying arm as Wilma wobbled alarmingly. She clung to her plate, her free hand wrestling with an object from behind her.
‘It looks like a lamp,’ said Gus.
‘Aye, I know what it is. I’m just wondering why it's stuffed behind a cushion.’ Wilma plonked the lamp on the coffee table and silence filled the room, punctuated only by Jinnie’s muttered apology and Sam’s teacup rattling in its saucer.
‘Has this got anything to do with the other two? They made Sam go all weird when I — ahem — inadvertently came upon them.’
‘Of course not! Don’t be silly, Gran!’ Jinnie’s voice went up several octaves. ‘Sam brought this one home from the antiques shop and I thought it was cute. So … I sat down with it and I must have nodded off and, um, left it there.’ As stories went, it lacked credibility. Heck, you could drive a bus through its plausibility.
Gus came to the rescue. ‘No harm done unless you’ve bruised yourself. All OK in the nether regions?’
Wilma patted her bottom and nodded. ‘My bits are fine, Gus. It’s my mind that’s wondering if these two are hiding something.’
‘And what would that be?’ Sam managed a nervous laugh. ‘Honestly, this is what happens when you dabble in tea leaves and crystals and all that stuff. You get carried away and see things that aren’t there.’
Jinnie snatched up the lamp. ‘It’s just a silly lamp, that’s all. I’ve started collecting them, if you must know. Isn’t that right, Sam?’
Sam nodded, poker-faced. Wilma pursed her lips and Gus looked suitably bemused.
‘I’ll just move this out of the way and then we can carry on with our tea.’ Jinnie went to the kitchen and put the lamp beside the toaster. She’d return it to the cupboard later, once her gran and Gus had gone.
‘Here’s the stone I got for you,’ said Wilma as a flustered Jinnie returned. She proffered a small paper-wrapped bundle which Jinnie took with a wan smile and a thank-you. ‘It’s clear quartz, but I’m thinking you might need another for relaxation. You’re awfy twitchy, sweetheart.’
‘It’s just the hormones, Gran,’ said Jinnie.Nothing to do with having two and now possibly three genies in the house.‘Don’t worry about me. Can I get you anything else, Gus?’
Over the next hour conversation flowed normally, and the scones and cakes dwindled to crumbs on plates. At one point Wilma disappeared with her capacious handbag — ‘nose needs powdering’ — and Gus regaled Jinnie and Sam with tales of plumbing disasters and clients with short arms and deep pockets. ‘Meaning a sudden inability to pay, despite me rocking up on a Sunday at half an hour’s notice,’ he added.
