Page 37 of A Wish For Wilma
‘At least the baby’s not due till January. Hopefully we can celebrate Christmas as an almost-family without the adoration of the Magi.’
Pulling into the driveway, Sam guided a drowsy Jinnie towards the front door. She rested her head on his shoulder as he found the key and let them in.
‘It’s quiet,’ murmured Jinnie. ‘Do you reckon Aaliyah’s asleep?’
Sam nodded, helping Jinnie with her coat and steering her into the lounge. ‘She must be all squawked out, like the Monty Python parrot. And you look very much in need of that deep sleep you mentioned.’
Jinnie threw herself onto the sofa, swinging her legs up and parking them on a plump cushion. ‘A foot rub wouldn’t go amiss, handsome,’ she said, kicking off the mid-height heels she’d teamed with the dress. Her normally slender ankles looked puffy and the soles of her feet tingled unpleasantly.
Sam grinned. ’As long as they don’t pong.’
‘How very dare you!’ retorted Jinnie, attempting to raise a foot to her nose for a quick sniff. Impossible. The days of pretending to bite her toenails as a party trick had long departed.
Slipping off her sheer tights with all the grace of a baby elephant, Jinnie settled back for a soothing massage. Sam’s strong fingers stroked and tweaked her toes, his thumbs pressing all the places that ached. It hurt a little, but pain and pleasure made unlikely bedfellows.
With each caress, the tension in Jinnie’s shoulders and neck shifted down a notch. Conversely, her libido soared through the stratosphere. Right here, right now, she wanted Sam to perform a fireman’s lift — preferably without giving himself a hernia — and cart her off for some carnal activity.
‘Eww!’
‘Aaliyah, your timing is impeccable.’ If sarcasm was measured like earthquakes, Sam’s reaction would have shattered the Richter Scale. He gently placed Jinnie’s feet on the sofa and eyed Aaliyah cautiously.
‘I can’t sleep!’ she wailed. ‘I tried and I tried, but every time I close my eyes I see him. Dhassim, that is. I know DJ will be fine once he’s granted his wish.’
Jinnie shook off her sleepiness. ‘Aaliyah, whatever’s gone wrong between you and Dhassim, you need to fix it. I’ll speak to Gran when I can and see how the wish-granting is progressing. Sam…’ She faltered. He looked pale, ill at ease, and more in need of bed than Jinnie herself.
Despite her desire to disappear under the duvet for the foreseeable future, Jinnie instructed Sam to get some sleep. She half-dragged Aaliyah into the kitchen, where she whipped up hot chocolates for them both.
Aaliyah turned up her nose at the mug placed in front of her. ‘Don’t you have marshmallows?’
‘No, I don’t have bloody marshmallows! What Idohave is a desire to squish you back into your lamp, pronto, and enjoy the last stages of my pregnancy without genie interference. Is that really too much to ask?’
Aaliyah visibly deflated, like a birthday balloon left up too long after the event. ‘At least you’re enjoying the whole baby thing. I remember little, apart from Dhassim and I — you know… And then DJ was here and — and — I didn’t even have a baby shower!’
Baby showers, in Jinnie’s opinion, were a phenomenon imported from the States, all about bringing gifts for someone who hadn’t even graced the world with their presence yet. She didn’t plan on having one. Considering her less-than-successful girls’ night out, she wasn’t sure who would come. Probably her mum, her gran and maybe Angela, Janette, Jo and Alison. And Peggy.
‘Aaliyah, all that stuff doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t: it’s all for show. Whatreallymatters is being happy with the one you’re with, and raising a child who knows they’ll always be number one in your eyes.’
Aaliyah sniffed. At least this time she didn’t cover Jinnie’s top with snot. ‘For a human, you’re quite smart sometimes. Not always, but sometimes.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’ Jinnie stirred her hot chocolate, the residue at the bottom resistant to the spoon. She stirred harder, the drink darkening as the cocoa merged with the milk. Blending as people did, even when they had little in common.
‘You’re OK. Jo was OK. Sam’s… Well, Sam’s got his work cut out. I don’t envy him, because none of us genies really know who’s pulling the strings. Who’s in control? Where do we go? Ooh, isn’t that a song? I like that song!’
Some Guns ‘N’ Roses headbanging followed. Aaliyah let rip with some serious pigtail swinging, and Jinnie thanked Dhassim silently for granting the wish that had given her perfect hair.
Glancing at her watch, Jinnie realised it was after midnight. Leaving Aaliyah to channel her inner Axl Rose — with the volume down — she headed upstairs. At least Aaliyah’s mood had improved. Thank heaven for small mercies.
Sam had switched off his bedside light but Jinnie’s remained on. Admiring his slumbering face, she undressed and pulled on her comfiest pyjamas. With make-up removed and teeth brushed, she slid into her side of the bed.
‘You took your time,’ whispered Sam.
‘Sorry. Hot chocolate and hard rock were required to appease madam,’ replied Jinnie. ‘But I’m here now, so, umm … shall we carry on where we left off?’
CHAPTER25
‘Ach, haud yer wheesht, laddie!’
Whenever Wilma got frustrated her Scottishness came to the fore. And right now, DJ was driving her up the wall and down again. ‘You need to make a wish. You need to make a wish. You need to make a wish.’ On and on he droned, following her around the bungalow like a lovesick teenager.
