Page 5 of A Wish For Wilma
Hearing the front door open, Wilma sucked in a calming breath. It didn’t help: her pulse quickened as Sam’s footsteps approached.
Then the footsteps stopped. ‘Wilma, can you come here a second?’
Sam didn’t sound angry. If anything, he sounded … scared.
Wilma pasted on a smile and hurried into the hall. Sam stood by the cupboard, his gaze fixed on the broken lock. Damn it, why had he spotted the damage so quickly?
‘Erm, I can explain,’ Wilma mumbled, taken aback by Sam’s ashen face. Unless… ‘Is Jinnie all right?’
Sam nodded. ‘Jinnie’s fine. I’m just wondering if, or rather why, this cupboard’s been opened. And if you touched the, um, contents.’
‘I was doing a bit of cleaning and got carried away, so I gave the lamps a going-over. Although why they’re hidden away like that… Seems a shame to me.’
Sam’s face went from ashen to alabaster. ‘You rubbed them? Did something — did anything happen?’
Wilma wondered if Sam was on drugs. Maybe the hospital had administered something to Jinnie and he’d snaffled a dose for himself. Why else would he be babbling on about old lamps and the fact that she’d given them a polish?
‘Nothing happened. Well, apart from the key snapping in the padlock, but I’ll pay for a new one. Now, I think we should sit down and eat. Then you can fill me in on my gorgeous granddaughter and the bairn.’
As Wilma dished up the food, she observed Sam. His colouring had returned to normal, but his hand shook as he raised his glass. Something was wrong. But what?
CHAPTER5
‘Areyou sure you’re up for this?’ Jo Milligan frowned as Jinnie stacked a pile of plastic crates. They were crammed with goodies destined for a fiftieth birthday party, with the emphasis on all things seventies.
‘Stop fussing, Jo, I’m fine.’ Jinnie brushed an errant strand of hair off her sweaty cheek and straightened. Her T-shirt rode up, revealing six months of burgeoning baby. ‘Sorry we had to postpone dinner, but I’m looking forward to it tonight.’
‘You were in hospital only a few days ago! I really don’t think—’
‘I can do the lifting, honestly.’ Jo moved to take over, but Jinnie tutted and carried on stacking. ‘I’m pregnant, not an invalid. A little light lifting isn’t a problem. I got a clean bill of health and the crates don’t weigh that much.’
Jo returned to dragging trays of vol au vents and cheese straws from the oven. Jinnie whistled as she worked, glad to be out of the house and away from Sam’s constant scrutiny. He’d pop a blood vessel if he could see her now.
‘Did you miss lover boy?’ Jinnie asked.
Jo’s partner Harvey had spent a few weeks in London. He’d been filming the show he’d bagged shortly after the weirdest time of Jo’s life, when — with the aid of two genies — she’d wished for him to be happy after a very rough patch. He’d flown back the day of Jinnie’s scare.
‘Of course, but I do appreciate some time alone. Being a couple is lovely, but I was a singleton so long that I need the occasional respite.’
Jinnie nodded. ‘I know what you mean. That’s why I’m here hefting crates instead of feeling I’m under twenty-four hour surveillance.’
Jo laughed. ‘Thanks for lending a hand. Angela messaged to say she’d be running late. I feel guilty, relying on the help of two pregnant ladies.’
‘Are you and Harvey going to move in together? ’ Jinnie finished stacking and filled a glass of water from the tap. ‘Purely from a financial point of view, doesn’t it make sense?’
Jo snorted. ‘There’s no rush. Why rock the boat when the water’s calm?’
Jinnie scrunched up her nose. ‘Unless you’re paddling up shit creek, which you’re clearly not. And I have no idea what I’m talking about, so I’ll zip my gob.’
At that moment, Angela walked through the door. ‘So sorry I’m late. Ed insisted on checking out baby stuff online. I swear he’s more obsessed than I am about this one’s arrival.’ She patted her bump, a near-match for Jinnie’s. Both were due around the same date.
‘Welcome to the sweat shop. A Bit of Crumpet, famed for exploiting vulnerable women.’
‘Strongwomen, capable of giving birth and eating their own body weight in cake. Can we have cake?’ Angela dropped her backpack and eyed the cake display.
Jo and Jinnie nodded.
‘Sounds like a plan’, they chorused.
