Page 44 of A Wish For Wilma
‘What do you mean?’ Reggie polished off his force-fed monstrosity and smacked his lips together in a scarily Hannibal Lecter style. The film had come out later, but it still gave Wilma the willies when she thought about it.
‘Well, the wedding’s over and this party’s about as much fun as an enema. I wondered if we might go clubbing.’
Reginald looked at Wilma in horror. ‘Clubbing? With loud music and sweaty people who’ve never heard of deodorant? Absolutely not my cup of tea, I’m afraid.’
What a surprise.Not that Wilma had been much into clubbing herself. The odd night out at the local, yes, with friends. Too many drinks consumed and cigarettes smoked, but what a blast they’d had. Fun with a capital F. Her current companion wouldn’t know fun if it crept up behind him and shouted ‘boo’.
‘Then I’d best be off.’ Wilma glanced at her watch. She’d been whisked back in time and into St Paul’s Cathedral by virtue of DJ’s wish-granting gizmo. How she’d return was anyone’s guess. Presumably the same way, but how did she signal that she’d had enough?
Reggie looked at his own watch — a Rolex or something equally swanky — and frowned. ‘Something’s terribly odd here. My watch is going too fast.’
Wilma peered at his wrist. The hands of his watch were spinning around at warp speed, and gaining momentum.
‘Perhaps it’s a fake?’ she replied. ‘A friend of mine once bought a knock-off Cartier on holiday and it did exactly the same thing.’
Reginald stiffened, his face indignant. ‘I can assure you that this is no fake. Priscilla gave it to me on my fortieth birthday and I have the certificate of authentication to prove it.’
Wilma half-expected him to whip out the certificate, along with his degree from whichever hoity-toity university he’d graduated from. Luckily, the only thing he whipped out was a monogrammed handkerchief to mop his stressed brow. ‘I’ll be taking this in for repair as soon as possible. Utterly unacceptable that such an expensive timepiece should act in this way. One expects more from a—’
Wilma wobbled. Not from the champagne: she’d only had a glass. The room swung in and out of focus. Reggie’s lips kept moving — presumably he was still harping on about his stupidly expensive watch — but she couldn’t hear a thing, aside from a faint giggle that was achingly familiar. She needed familiar. She needed to follow those watch hands and go back to the future. Like Michael J Fox, just without the DeLorean car.
‘Bye, Reggie. It’s been—’
Then it all went dark.
CHAPTER28
‘Oh my God,Gran. You actually went to a royal wedding! And notanyroyal wedding: probably the most important one in history. Well, I guess Kate and William’s was pretty special too. And shedeffo had a nicer dress.’
To beat the boredom blues, Jinnie had invited Wilma for lunch at The Jekyll and Hyde. She’d suggested that Gus come too, but Wilma had sniffed at the idea. Jinnie’s dad, Rob, dropped Wilma off before heading into Edinburgh for a spot of shopping with Kath. As Rob loathed shopping, Jinnie reckoned it might not be a joyous outing.
‘Aye. It seems surreal now, but it happened. Little old me, sitting in St Paul’s and soaking up the atmosphere. Mind you, it was all a bit stuffy. That archbishop droned on for an eternity and the music could have been a bit more upbeat.’
Jinnie giggled. ‘You knew what it would be like. They’d hardly play punk rock, would they?’
Wilma chuckled. ‘It would certainly have livened things up. Imagine “God Save the Queen” by The Sex Pistols blasting out and people pogoing all over the place?’
‘Way before my time,’ said Jinnie. ‘Although I can’t help thinking music was more interesting in the sixties and seventies. Or even the eighties.Especiallythe eighties. It’s all so bland now. I hear a singer and think “Which one are you?” Give me some Spandau Ballet or Madonna any day.’
‘So true…’
* * *
‘Angela!’Jinnie squealed as her fellow birth buddy approached. Their dates nearly matched but Angela’s bump appeared bigger.Twins? No, dummy, they’d know that by now.
‘Jinnie!’ They hugged each other, careful not to let their bumps collide. Not an easy manoeuvre, involving some side-stepping and inadvertent toe-squashing.
Angela gave Jinnie a once-over and a warm smile. ‘You look fabulous. Hard to believe these babies will screech their way into the world in less than two months.’
‘Unless you give birth early or one of the wee devils decides to cook for a bit longer.’ Wilma smirked as she perused the menu. ‘What do you recommend today, Angela?’
Angela walked Wilma and Jinnie through the choices. ‘Personally, I’d go for the jambalaya. Chunks of chicken, lots of spice, and rice. But if you prefer something milder, the prosciutto-wrapped cod in creamy pesto sauce is a winner.’
‘You had me at spice,’ said Wilma.
Jinnie took a few seconds longer to choose. ‘I’ll have the cod. I get shocking heartburn these days if Sam puts too many chillies in our food.’
Angela nodded. ‘I’m with you there: bland is best for now. Ed’s learned to go easy on the heat when he’s cooking, unless he wants the dining experience accompanied by unladylike burps!’
