‘I just … want a sign that life can still be good.’
Gigi gave a slow clap that dripped with sarcasm. ‘That is the best you can come up with? Sunshine, as first wishes go, that’s lamer than a three-legged camel.’
Beth conceded it lacked the wow factor, but it felt right.
Gigi rolled his eyes with such exaggerated flair Beth half-expected them to tumble out and bounce across the basementfloor. ‘Fine. A sign it is. But don’t come boo-hooing to me when it’s underwhelming.’
He tilted his head, suddenly serious. ‘You've got two wishes left, sweetheart. Don't squander them.’ Then he snapped his fingers, and with a fizz like a bottle of champagne being cracked open, he vanished. The pinball machine fell silent.
Beth waited, heart still thumping, wondering if she’d finally lost it completely, until a soft glow bloomed in the corner of the room.
A butterfly, luminous and impossible, shimmered into view.
Its wings glowed with shifting colours: gold bleeding into violet, violet into silver, each beat scattering motes of light like falling stars. It circled lazily above her head, then drifted down until it hovered in front of her face, as if daring her to doubt it.
Beth held her breath as it floated inches from her nose. Then it drifted upwards and slipped through the tiny basement window, dissolving into the dark.
Beth let out a shaky laugh. ‘A butterfly. Indoors. Glowing. Why not?’
And though her rational brain fought to explain it away, she realised she was smiling. Not a brittle, forced curve of her lips. A real one, that felt like it belonged to her again.
Chapter Eighteen
‘You have to help, laddie,’ begged Janette, grabbing Kieran’s forearm with the same grip she used on her customers when extracting their deepest gossip. ‘Peggy’s niece has come down with the lurgy, so we’re one down. And I’ve already promised Ed a full team.’
Kieran’s evening plans had been blissfully simple: nachos, beer, telly, solitude. Maybe a bit of coding, if he could summon the energy to stare disappointment in the face again. Now he was being conscripted into a village pub quiz by a woman whose persistence could rival a bulldozer.
‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Whatever.’
Janette performed a triumphant jig, a cross between a ceilidh and a Morris dance. Kieran smothered a smile. He told himself his willingness had nothing to do with wondering whether Beth would take part. Absolutely nothing.
Inside the bar, Ed greeted him with a hearty grin and a pint. ‘Thanks for stepping in at the last minute, Kieran. Tickets are fifteen quid, which includes one drink and some themed nibbles, courtesy of Beth.’
‘And the winning team gets the inaugural quiz trophy,’ Angela said, pointing to a pint-sized pewter cup that looked as if it had been freshly polished or possibly salvaged from a charity shop.
‘Let the fun begin,’ Kieran said drily, handing over the cash. ‘Bit quiet, though.’
Ed nodded, his smile slipping. ‘After the initial buzz of the new menus, I think we need to keep the momentum going. We’ve got plenty of ideas. Open mic, karaoke, bonfire?—’
‘Health and safety nightmare,’ Angela interjected.
‘We’ll iron out the details. Point is, we’re trying.’
Kieran took his place with Janette, Alison, and Peggy. Alison greeted him warmly; Peggy stared at her pencil as if it might explode.
‘I’m not sure I’ll be any good at this,’ Peggy murmured. Her left eye twitched.
Alison patted her arm. ‘Relax: it’s just for fun, not University Challenge. No fingers on the buzzers here.’
Each table held scoresheets, pencils, jugs of water. The room was alive with chatter and anticipation. Kieran glanced around, half-expecting Beth to emerge from somewhere, but she wasn’t in sight.
Before Ed could officially begin, a disgruntled man in a three-piece tweed ensemble interrupted, eyebrows bristling with indignation. ‘Excuse me, is there any actual food tonight? My wife and I drove here on recommendation, only to find pork pies and cheese-and-pineapple … monstrosities.’
Beth materialised as if from nowhere, cheeks flushed, jaw clenched. ‘We have a special event tonight,’ she said, her voice controlled. ‘However, we can offer you venison and wild mushroom stew or fish and chips. Desserts on the house. Apologies for the limited choice.’
The man harrumphed but retreated with his wife to a distant table.
Kieran leaned in. ‘Nice save,’ he murmured. ‘Are you planning to lace his food with laxatives?’
