Beth looked down at her feet. Normal, unassuming feet, clad in comfortable, trusty trainers. She half-expected to see little wings attached, like Hermes in Greek mythology. But no. Just bog-standard footwear.
‘Hi, Beth.’ Jinnie stood in the doorway, her face showing zero surprise at Beth’s appearance. She turned. ‘Sam, Beth’s here,’ she called.
Sam appeared behind her, holding a wine glass like a small emotional support object. ‘Come in,’ he said. ‘We’ve just opened some wine. I’ve a feeling we might need it.’
Beth stepped inside. She bent to remove her trainers, but Jinnie waved her on. ‘No need, unless you’ve trodden in a cowpat. Which seems unlikely, given the complete absence of cows. Unlike genies.’
Sam cleared his throat. ‘Sweetheart…’
Beth followed them into a large, warm kitchen. Gleaming appliances, a double oven, granite worktops: the sort of space that screamedlife sorted. In normal circumstances, she’d havetaken time to swoon over it. Tonight, it barely registered. ‘I suppose you know why I’m here,’ she said.
‘We do,’ said Jinnie gently.
Beth jumped as Jo and Wilma entered behind her. Wilma was holding Dahlia, who chose that moment to announce her digestive opinions loudly.
Wilma tutted. ‘Timing’s impeccable. Back in a minute.’
Beth sat at the table, accepted a glass of red she hadn’t asked for, and stared at it as if it might explain things. ‘I feel as if I’ve wandered into a very strange cocktail party,’ she said. ‘And I don’t remember agreeing to come.’
Jo smiled wryly. ‘That’ll be the genie.’
Beth swallowed. ‘Is it usually a man?’
‘Yours?’ Wilma asked, returning with a freshly changed Dahlia. ‘Definitely. Only men announce themselves like that.’
‘His name’s Gigi,’ Beth said weakly. ‘He lives in a pinball machine.’
Wilma barked a laugh. ‘That’s new. Ours were lamps. Very traditional.’
Beth stared at them. ‘So you all had one.’
Jinnie nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘And they don’t hang around forever,’ Jo said softly. That landed harder than anything else so far.
Beth set her glass down carefully. ‘What happened to yours?’
There was a pause. A collective, unspoken agreement.
‘They helped,’ Jo said, finally. ‘In strange ways. Then they went.’ She paused. ‘I got a day with my parents again,’ she added. ‘Just one, but it was enough.’
Beth felt something twist in her chest.
Wilma shifted Dahlia higher on her shoulder. ‘Mine was a menace,’ she said briskly. ‘A baby with an appetite like a horse. But in the end, I didn’t want wishes. I wanted peace.’
Peace. Beth thought of Gigi’s grin. His singing. The way he’d threaded himself into her thoughts and manoeuvred his way into Kieran’s.
‘Did anyone else know?’ she asked. ‘About the genies?’
They all shook their heads.
‘Then why does Kieran?’ The words tumbled out. ‘Why him?’
No one answered straight away.
‘Some people are more … receptive,’ Jinnie said eventually.
‘And some are gloriously oblivious,’ Wilma added. ‘Gus wouldn’t spot a genie if it danced naked in front of him.’
