Page 31 of A Wish For Wilma
‘But ma chérie, we have spent too long apart from our precious Dhassim Junior.’ Dhassim gave her his best little-boy-lost look.
‘It’sGorka,’ retorted Aaliyah. ‘Naming our son after you just shows your lack of imagination. Or your arrogance.’
‘Ahem,’ Jinnie said, loudly. Like it or not, DJ’s parents were in the building and not setting a great example for their offspring. ‘If you two could just stop arguing and say hello to your son.’
With a final snarl, Aaliyah looked Jinnie up and down. ‘Ooh, got yourself a toy boy now? Always thought Sam was a bit on the wrinkly side, even for a Djinn.’
DJ released Jinnie’s hand. He frowned at Aaliyah then a wave of realisation crossed his face. ‘It’sme, Mama and Papa! I was approved by CHUG for the acceleration programme, so I’ve grown up a little faster.’
Not those bloody acronyms again, thought Jinnie.And how did DJ know all of this without a WIFI, and then choose not to share it with them? Had Dhassim and Aaliyah been transmitting messages from the cupboard?
‘My child!’ Aaliyah tossed her pigtail and wrapped her toned arms around DJ. ‘Oh, I have missed all the magical baby moments — your first gurgle, your first steps. Now you’re all grown up and my heart is in pieces.’
Jinnie snorted. ‘Luckily for you, you missed the revolting nappy stage. That wasn’t a bundle of laughs, for sure.’
Dhassim bowed to Jinnie. ‘We are eternally grateful to you for looking after Dhassim Junior.’ Cue another irritated grunt from Aaliyah. ‘I’m sure Sam told you of his time with us in the past, and how our darling boy can grant one wish for your grandmother. Wanda, yes?’
‘Wilma.’
‘And look at you! It is like seeing my handsome reflection in a mirror.’ Dhassim peeled Aaliyah’s arms off DJ and hugged him with his less honed ones.
‘I’m DJ now. That’s what Jinnie and Sam and Wilma call me, and I like it.’ DJ wriggled free and the four of them stood at an impasse.
‘Erm, you said you were hungry, DJ, so why don’t I fix you — all of us — a snack?’ Jinnie needed to escape to the relative calm of the kitchen. Breathe in and out. Tell her baby that when he or she arrived, the world would not include genies. But children needed fairy tales: stories with made-up worlds and magic to enchant them as they drifted off to sleep.
Returning with a platter of bits and pieces, Jinnie found the hallway empty. Judging by the shrieks and mild expletives coming from the lounge, they’d picked up where DJ had left off on the TV.
‘This is disgusting.’ Aaliyah pointed at the screen, where the survivors of the zombie apocalypse were hauling each other to safety from a crashed train. ‘I cannot believe you allow my … my DJ to watch such things.’
Dhassim gave a smug grin. DJ grabbed a fistful of Doritos and crammed them in his mouth. ‘Lighten up, Mama,’ he mumbled.
Dhassim gulped. Aaliyah sniffed and speared a stuffed olive with a cocktail stick. ‘Whatever. The important thing is that we’re with you now, and we have something for you.’
Aaliyah fumbled in her leggings. Jinnie felt a wistful pang for the days when she had worn tight-fitting clothes. Given her current state of pregnancy, she’d be baggy and saggy for a while yet.
‘Is that my WIFI?’ DJ swallowed the last of his corn chips and gaped at the object in Aaliyah’s hand. ‘I really, really have one?’
‘Of course you do!’ Dhassim snatched the gizmo from Aaliyah. ‘It should have been with you from the start, but—’
‘Dad cocked it up.’ Aaliyah took back the WIFI and handed it over. ‘He can’t be trusted with anything that needs more than a handful of brain cells.’ Her expression softened. ‘We both want what’s best for you. Which means—’
‘Aargh!’ All eyes turned to the TV, where one of the strongest cast members was going full-on zombie after a nasty bite.
‘Cool!’ said DJ.
‘Gross,’ said Aaliyah.
The front door opened and Jinnie braced herself. Her adorable, loving Sam was back. And she had some explaining to do.
CHAPTER22
Wilma paced around her home,unable to settle to anything. She eyed the long-abandoned knitting — she’d already ordered some gorgeous booties and a matching dinky cardigan online — and huffed out a frustrated sigh. She’d attempted to engage in banter on Twitter but her heart wasn’t in it. She’d left it in the Highlands. Or rather with Gus, who’d dropped her off an hour ago.
‘We need to do this again sometime,’ he’d said, wrestling her case out of the boot and waiting while Wilma found her house key. ‘Maybe you need a fluffy thistle key ring, too.’
They’d enjoyed another belt-busting breakfast before departing. Gus left a generous tip on the table for the young waitress, who’d beamed with delight as they bade their farewells.
As they checked out at reception, Wilma couldn’t help noticing an elegant blonde woman doing some checking out herself, in Gus’s direction. Possibly in her late sixties or her seventies, she oozed sophistication — unlike Wilma, who considered herself way down the glamour chain. Gus, bless him, had been blissfully unaware of the appreciative look.
