Page 45 of A Wish For Wilma
Angela headed off to sort their order and Wilma settled back in her chair, a wistful look on her face.
‘What’s up, Gran?’ asked Jinnie. ‘Is DJ still driving you up the wall? Or … is it Gus?’
Wilma shook her head, paused, then shook it again. ‘You two talking about your babies made me feel… I don’t know. Like I’ll miss DJ when he’s gone. Not that he’s leaving in a hurry, but I basically raised him single-handed.’
Jinnie waited. Her gran seemed stuck for words, a rare event indeed.
‘OK, so DJ came into my world most unexpectedly and developed at a rate of knots. Yes, he’s now a proper smart alec with an attitude, but for a wee while he was my baby. It brought it all back — raising your dad, the sleepless nights and colic, and the gut-punching feeling of being responsible for someone. Now I’m counting down the days till I depart and I’ll never see your wee one grow up.’
Jinnie gasped. ‘Gran, please don’t talk like that! Of course you will. The Queen Mother almost made a hundred and two, which gives you’ — Jinnie resorted to counting on her fingers — ‘ten years.’
‘Numbers were never your thing, pet. It’s fifteen, and I’m not the Queen Mother. I only caught a glimpse of her at the wedding. Forgot she wore a ton of feathers on her head. I doubt I’ll reach that ripe old age, with or without the plumage.’
Before Jinnie could reply, Ed appeared with their meals and a jug of iced water. ‘Angela forgot to ask what you’d like to drink, so I brought you this. If you need something else, just holler.’
‘Already hollering,’ replied Wilma. ‘A large glass of Merlot for me. Jinnie?’
Jinnie shook her head. ‘Water’s fine.’
Ed lingered. He talked about becoming a dad, and how his mum Mags had taken up knitting.
‘She wants to knit something for the baby. She used to knit loads in the past, but nowadays it takes all her effort to remember how to dress in the morning.’
‘Not sure if this is helpful, but I’ve been knitting too.’ Wilma side-eyed Jinnie, who feigned ignorance. ‘And it’s more trouble than it’s worth. Order something cute online with your mum. She’ll be happy, job done.’
They tucked into their food, Wilma grumbling that November was far too early to put up a Christmas tree. It twinkled in the corner, laden with gold and blue baubles, tinsel and flashing lights. Jinnie didn’t disagree. She loved Christmas, but the time between Easter, summer and December seemed to merge into a blur of over-indulgence. You’d no sooner scoffed a caramel-filled egg than the magazines were urging you to get bikini body ready. The next minute, TV adverts showed you tables groaning with festive food, guaranteed to undo any success on the slimming front. And come Boxing Day, everything went on sale and the whole circle of excess began again.
‘Have you spoken to Gus?’ Jinnie scooped up her final mouthful of cod. Wilma, she noted, had chased a chunk of chorizo around her plate with scant enthusiasm.
‘Nope. Not going to, either. He’s got stuff to deal with and it’s none of my business.’ Wilma sounded strong, but her hand wobbled as she finally got the chorizo to her lips.
‘Gran, I don’t want to stick my nose in where it’s not wanted, but… You have feelings for him, don’t you?’
At that precise moment, Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ blasted through the pub speakers. Much as Jinnie loved Christmas it was still too soon, and that bloody song made her want to wrench off Rudolph’s antlers.
‘Jinnie, you’re no’ supposed to have those kind of feelings at my age. It’s an unwritten rule. We’re meant to be invisible by now. Crusty old leftovers in the bread basket of life.’
‘Wow!’ Jinnie looked at her gran with fresh eyes. ‘That is so profound, and terribly sad. But utterly untrue.’
‘Is it?’ Wilma pushed her plate away. ‘Sweetheart, your life is ahead of you and mine is behind me. Yes, I have feelingsfor Gus. Any woman with a breath in her body would have feelings for Gus. But let’s not dwell on it. He’s not mine to have, and that’s fine.’
Another Christmas song took over: ‘Santa Claus Is Coming To Town.’ Jinnie had the urge to find a hammer, take out a couple of speakers, and savour the crunch as they splintered into fragments — and she was escorted to the police station.
Then something occurred to her. ‘Gran, where was DJ when Dad picked you up?’
‘Buggering around with his invisibility powers. Rob didn’t come in: I was ready to go when he arrived. Honestly, DJ scared the bejesus out of me when I got back from the royal wedding. One minute I was listening to Reginald Swipe wittering on about his dodgy Rolex, the next I was flat out on the sofa with a banging headache.’
‘Hang on.’ Jinnie swigged some water. ‘Are you telling me your plus one was called Reginald Swipe, as in R Swipe? Seriously?’
‘No word of a lie. Starched of underpants and as charismatic as a colonoscopy. Appropriately enough.’ The two women hooted with laughter.
‘What did darling DJ do to freak you out?’ Jinnie ran her fingers under her eyes, unsurprised to see black smudges on them. Finding a mascara that didn’t run remained an ongoing challenge.
‘Well, I heard my phone ping, and it was your message inviting me out. I’d just started typing my reply when I felt a sudden wind. Notthatkind of wind, sweetie, so stop sniggering. Just DJ wafting past, like a ghost or something else equally spooky.’
‘Is he still into shape-shifting, or has he settled for just being DJ now?’ Jinnie waved at Ken as East 17’s ‘Stay Another Day’ came on.
‘Funnily enough, when he reappeared, he had a look of Sean Connery about him. Probably because he’d been bingeing Bond films in my absence. And I’m no’ complaining about that.’
