Page 16 of A Wish For Wilma
‘My wife and I split up.’ Gus glanced at Wilma, who now regretted not sharing that not-so-small detail.
Sam clamped a hand over his mouth. ‘Gosh, I’m so sorry.’
‘I’m not.’ Gus pulled his shoulders back and Wilma once again admired his physique. It was her birthday, and she’d ogle if she wanted to… ‘It was tough at first. She’s still in Majorca, living it large. We don’t speak. We haven’t any kids together — not that they’d be kids now — so we get on with our separate lives.’
Bored with the conversation, Archie sloped off to his old bedroom. Despite earning a ridiculous amount of money on the back of his music and owning a fancy apartment a few miles away, he frequently crashed with his mum and dad.
‘Gus works as a handyman now,’ Jinnie told her parents. ‘I recommended him to Gran ’cos my friend said he was really good. And cheap. Oops, I meant good value!’
Gus laughed and Wilma tingled. Did she have shingles again? No, these tingles werenotin the usual place. ‘Ah, I’m happy doing what I’m doing. Not ripping folk off for small jobs, and I’ve enough in the pot to keep me ticking over until the ticker decides it’s had enough.’
Wilma glanced at her smartwatch. Heart rate elevated, steps taken in the low hundreds, and— Jeez, the not-so-wee one had been home alone for three hours. She’d left snacks and drinks, but the lad hoovered stuff up at a terrifying rate. People always commented ‘They grow up so fast’, but her genie companion took it to a whole new level. He’d be shaving and applying Clearasil any day now.
‘You must have had a blast in Majorca,’ said Kath, bustling around with a damp cloth for spillages and a fresh bottle for the diehards. ‘I mean, during the happier times.’
Gus stroked his chin contemplatively. ‘I did.Wedid. Lots of parties, meeting like-minded folks and trying to integrate without coming across as expat prats. There were plenty of those, trust me.’
Wilma tried, as subtly as she could, to signal time to leave. Dhassim Junior and Gus had yet to become acquainted; the wisdom of that coupling would surely cause a seismic shift in their relationship. Bugger that, the world would implode. She wriggled in her chair, prompting Kath to ask if she needed assistance.
‘Perfectly fine, darling.’ Wilma got to her feet. Ever so slightly wobbly, but she’d soon be in her bed. On her own, but she really needed to dampen downthosethoughts.
‘I had a few dodgy jobs in the intervening years,’ said Gus, ignoring Wilma’s signals. She sank back into her chair and accepted a top-up. In for a penny, etc. It was her birthday, after all, and how many more lay ahead was up to a higher being. Not that Wilma believed in such things, but her beliefs had taken a hammering recently.
‘Such as?’ inquired Sam.
‘Well, I once had a job injecting jelly into pork pies.’
The room exploded with guffaws and a near-choking incident as Wilma’s fizz went down the wrong way.
‘You’re making that up!’ exclaimed Rob. ‘Surely the jelly is produced when the pie’s baked.’
‘I’m telling the truth, not a porky pie. Pardon the pun.’ Gus made a syringe-like gesture with his right hand. ‘Squeezed that jelly into the wee blighters as they glided along the conveyor belt. I lasted two days. Probably the worst job ever, although a stint as a gravedigger comes a close second.’
Before Gus could regale them with more employment horror stories, Wilma got up again. ‘Feeling a tad tipsy, Gus. Think I’ve had enough excitement for one day.’
In the hallway, Jinnie grasped Wilma’s arm, a beseeching look on her face. ‘Are you sure everything’s OK?’ she whispered. ‘Is there something you need to talk about?’
‘I could ask you that.’ Wilma tapped the side of her nose. ‘It can wait.’
Bundled up in Gus’s van with her swag bag of gifts, Wilma wanted to invite him in. He’d been so kind, charging a pittance for his odd jobs and chauffeuring her around when she needed it. But the elephant in the room (OK, the genie hadn’t quite reached those proportions yet) made that impossible.
Pulling up outside her place, Gus patted Wilma’s arm. ‘You’ve a great family there, Wilma. Makes me realise I’ve missed out. No kids or grandkids, an ex-wife and only a handful of friends.’ Then he smiled. ‘I’m sorry — it’s your birthday and I sound like a wet weekend in Wales.’
‘What have you got against Wales?’ Wilma joked. ‘No need to apologise, Gus. I’m glad you came along and enjoyed it. I’d offer you a cuppa, but my head’s banging and I need a wee lie-down. Thank you so much.’
Did he look disappointed? Only briefly. ‘Wilma, it’s been my pleasure. Now, at the risk of sounding forward, would you fancy a meal at my place sometime soon? No pork pies, I promise.’
The tingling feeling returned. Damn that uninvited house guest! ‘That sounds lovely. Give me a call tomorrow, once I’ve recovered.’
Wilma clambered out of the van, Gus rushing to her side to lend a hand. Deposited on the doorstep, she looked up at him. She looked up at most people — she’d make Kylie Minogue feel tall — and she reckoned she’d shrunk in the past few years. Age diminished you in so many ways.
‘I will do.’ Gus hesitated, then planted a kiss on her cheek. ‘Happy birthday, Wilma. Delighted to have celebrated it with you.’
She watched his van turn the corner and disappear. One of his brake lights wasn’t working. She’d mention it another time. For now… Wilma turned the key and sent up a silent prayer.
CHAPTER14
‘Greetings, strangers.’Ken, owner of the Jekyll and Hyde pub, draped a towel over his shoulder and grinned. ‘You haven’t graced this place for a while.’
