Page 30 of A Wish For Wilma
After supper — Cullen Skink for Wilma, beef and chestnut stew for Gus — they chatted easily for the next hour.
‘To be honest, I love a woman with an appetite,’ said Gus, sipping his whisky. ‘Shirley was always on some faddy diet or another, picking at her food like a sparrow. Didn’t stop her knocking back the mojitos on a girls’ night out, mind.’
Wilma said nothing, unsure of the correct response.
‘Apologies. The first rule regarding ex-wives or husbands is not to talk about them, especially when you’re having a fantastic weekend in fine company.’ Gus gave a sheepish grin and Wilma smiled back.
They parted ways outside their respective bedrooms just after ten. No drinks to finish this time, and Gus didn’t invite her in. ‘It’s been a grand day, Wilma. Let’s say nine thirty for breakfast, then we’ll head home.’ He kissed her hand again and bade her goodnight.
Slipping off her shoes, Wilma’s good mood evaporated. Why, she didn’t know. Ithadbeen a fantastic weekend, filled with humour, splendid sights and enough food to sink a battleship.
Turning off the light, she sighed into the darkness. Tomorrow she’d return to real life. Well, if real life included a genie…
CHAPTER21
‘It’sgood to have the old DJ back.’ Jinnie gave a thumbs-up of approval at the sight that greeted her in the morning. Since their visit to the pub, DJ had made the most of his ability to morph into other people. In the space of an hour he’d turned into David Bowie (courtesy of an old vinyl record of Sam’s), Michael Jackson (ditto) and Harry Styles, from the cover of a glossy magazine. Luckily this had all been in the privacy of their home, though Jinnie wouldn’t have minded striding through Cranley arm in arm with the former boy-band cutie. Not that she’d tell Sam…
‘I find the body-changing a little exhausting.’ DJ poured himself a bowl of Cheerios and slumped at the table. ‘When will you take me back to Wilma?’
Jinnie looked at her watch. An earlier message from Wilma had suggested they’d be back at her place around three. Allowing time for hold-ups and for Gus to head off, she figured they could drop DJ off around five.
‘We’ve still a while to go. Why don’t we, I don’t know, watch some TV?’
Sam was at the antiques shop. He’d cut his working hours down in recent months, arguing that he wanted to spend time with Jinnie before the baby arrived. Out of the Attic Antiques had never made much money: they lived comfortably on Sam’s inheritance from his parents and the income from his books.
Jinnie knew that Sam kept the shop on as a tribute to his dad — but for how long? He’d had inquiries about the premises from other businesses offering good money, as Sam owned the building. He’d declined, but Jinnie suspected that his interest in the business had waned.
‘I’d like to watch that Korean horror movie again. The one with the train and the zombies and lots and lots of blood.’
Jinnie shuddered. She hated horror movies, particularly ones where dead people rose and did that twitchy bone-cracking thing. Sadly, DJ’s taste had progressed at lightning speed from harmless children’s shows to gorefests. At least Wilma would cope: Jinnie’s gran embraced all things hideous and stomach-churning. She took the cuddly granny image and tossed it in the bin. And Jinnie loved her for her feistiness and her ability to deal with pretty much anything.
Leaving DJ glued to the TV, watching a dead goat twerk its way upright, Jinnie wandered into the hallway. Against her better judgement, she opened the cupboard. The two lamps sat on their shelf. Were the genies eveninthere? And did she want them to come out?
An unbidden voice called to her. ‘We are here, and we want to break free.’
The image of Dhassim hoovering, à la Freddie Mercury, back at the start of their unlikely friendship brought a tear to Jinnie’s eye. Was it mirth, or misery? She’d resented his presence at first, their bond a slow burn as he’d granted wishes and changed her life in unimaginable ways. That magic-carpet ride. The winning scratch card for Angela, which turned everything around for a woman in despair. Aaliyah came up trumps for Jo. The last piece of the puzzle was DJ, and what he had in store for Wilma.
‘I know I’m going to regret this, but if you’re there … can you give me a sign?’
Silence, but for the ticking of the old grandfather clock Sam had found at a house clearance. Jinnie didn’t particularly like it. She had a thing about ticking clocks and would remove them from a room, as they kept her from sleeping.
She was about to head upstairs when another sound vied with the ticking clock: a rhythmicthump-thump-thump. Like a loudly beating metal heart, it pulsed in time with Jinnie’s own heartbeat.
She returned to the open cupboard. The two lamps were now a mere inch apart. As Jinnie watched, they leapt back and forward, connecting, then separating. She bit her lip, unable to tear her gaze from the action. She felt like a spectator at Wimbledon, watching first one player then the other whack the ball over the net.
‘Jinnie, I’m hungry.’ The plaintive voice behind her jolted her back to reality.
‘DJ!’ She attempted to manoeuvre the door shut with her bottom, but too late. The lamps clattered together once again and tumbled to the floor.
‘What … what’s happening?’ DJ stared in awe at the lamps, now writhing around dementedly. ‘Have Mama and Papa come to help me?’
At that moment, Jinnie would rather have faced a hoard of drooling, twitching zombies than play host to three genies.What was I thinking?She’d asked for a sign, maybe a gentle tap of acknowledgement, and instead—
In a painfully familiar scene, the lamps spun at high speed then levitated, enveloped in a whirling grey cloud of smoke. Jinnie seized DJ’s hand and they clung to one another.
Within the cloud, two shapes began to form and faint voices could be heard. As the smoke dispersed Dhassim and Aaliyah emerged, blinking and bickering.
‘Itoldyou we had to wait!’ cried Aaliyah, stunning as always, but with the expression of a bulldog chewing on a wasp.
