Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
After a lie down and a splash of cold water, Beth returned to the pub just as Ed was preparing to announce the final quiz round.
‘Erm, there’s something wrong with the microphone,’ he said, tapping it experimentally. It rewarded him with a high-pitched squeal, followed by what sounded suspiciously like a mischievous giggle. Beth’s insides did an uncomfortable somersault.
She glanced across the room. Kieran caught her eye and shrugged, his expression saying I heard that too.
‘Did the mic fall off the back of a lorry?’ quipped Harvey, which drew a ripple of chuckles.
Ed, refusing to be flustered, flicked the switch off and on again. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Moving swiftly on. This is the wildcard round, folks!’
Groans, cheers, the rustle of scoresheets.
Beth stayed long enough to hear the first question before ducking behind the bar. She poured herself a glass of water and perched on a stool.
‘Only two questions to go. Ready? Which popular UK fizzy drink brand launched its famous “The Totally Tropical Taste” advertising campaign in 1975?’
Murmured debates filled the room. Beth took a sip from her glass – and froze as the skirl of bagpipes drifted faintly through the air. No one else reacted. The sound evaporated as quickly as it came, leaving her pulse thudding.
‘No cheating, Wilma!’ Ed called.
Wilma huffed, stuffed her phone in her handbag, and muttered about quiz fascism.
Beth shook her head and raised her glass again, only to choke back a gasp. The clear water was now fizzy yellow. Pineapple, grapefruit. Sweet and sharp. She tipped it down the sink with a muttered curse.
A voice shouted, ‘No, it’s not the one made from girders!’
‘Shut up, stop giving people hints,’ snarled their teammate.
Beth scowled. She wasn’t angry at the quizzers. She was angry at him.
The trickster. The sequinned pest. The self-proclaimed sultan of spin.
Ed was reading again. ‘OK. Final question, which again I don’t remember reading before.’ He scratched his head, then carried on. ‘Which 1975 film, starring Elton John in oversized boots, featured the song “Pinball Wizard”?’
The room erupted in delighted murmurs and a lot of frantic scribbling.
Beth, meanwhile, went cold. Of course.
Because why wouldn’t he meddle? Why wouldn’t he turn her night into a cosmic joke?
Slipping away unnoticed, she hurried down to the basement, her pulse a drumbeat of fury and disbelief.
‘What are you playing at?’ she snapped, slamming her palms on the pinball machine. The sound echoed around the empty room.
Nothing. No shimmer, no wisecrack.
And then a flicker of golden light.
The butterfly.
It drifted down from nowhere, luminous wings shimmering violet and silver. Beth watched it land delicately on her hand, its tiny feet tickling her skin. Her breath caught.
Life can still be good.
The butterfly rose, circled once and vanished into the air with a faint metallic clink. Beth looked down.
Another coin.
Beth stooped to pick it up, turning it over in her fingers. Her reflection rippled on its surface – tired, confused, defiant.
She sighed. ‘Fine. Let’s do this.’
The coin dropped into the slot.
Instantly, The Wish Master sprang to life – lights flashing, bells ringing, Gigi materialising mid-spin, his outfit a chaotic clash of glitter and velvet.
‘Well, well,’ he drawled, reclining mid-air. ‘If it isn’t my pinball wizard. Or should that be witch? No, wait – enchantress!’
‘I prefer Beth,’ she said flatly. ‘And I want to know what game you’re playing. Because this is well beyond three wishes, Gigi. You’re interfering.’
‘Moi?’ He pressed a hand to his chest in mock offence. ‘As if I would meddle. I’m subtle, discreet—’
‘Turning my water into Lilt and throwing in quiz questions about a genie and Pinball Wizard is your idea of subtle?’ she said. ‘You’re about as discreet as a glitter bomb.’
Gigi gave a sheepish grin. ‘Ah. You wound me. But perhaps I got carried away. Just a little fun, that’s all. It’s been ages since I had such a promising protégée. Play, darling, and all shall be revealed.’
Beth glared, but the machine was already alive again, its lights pulsing, the ball released. Against all common sense, she set her hands on the flipper buttons.
She played hard. Harder than she ever had before.
The ball danced, rebounded, spun. Every metallic ding echoed in her chest. Her fingers burned, her wrists ached.
Somewhere between the flashing lights and the noise, she thought she heard Luke’s voice – soft, amused, distant. You’re overdoing it again, Beth.
‘Beth,’ came Gigi’s voice, quiet now. ‘You can stop.’
She blinked through tears she hadn’t noticed forming. 400,000 points.
‘Your wrist is impressive,’ said Gigi solemnly, then spoiled it by waggling his eyebrows. ‘One of the best I’ve ever seen. But your heart … well, that’s heavier than any jackpot.’
‘You don’t know anything about me.’ Her voice cracked and she dashed away tears. ‘You’re just a stupid genie trapped in a box, tormenting people for fun. I wish you’d disappear and let me live my boring life.’
‘Uh-uh.’ Gigi wagged a glittery finger. ‘That wish doesn’t count. Only I decide what’s official. And there’s a difference between a formal wish, which requires you to play the game, and me being given free rein to … help.’
‘You mean meddle,’ retorted Beth. ‘Surely there are strict rules in the genie world?’
Gigi looked heavenwards as if searching for patience in the rafters. ‘Rules are for fools, sugarplum. And your life isn’t boring. You’re standing on the edge of something marvellous. You just don’t believe in it yet.’
Beth groaned. ‘I’d rather believe in an early night.’
‘Then go. Sleep tight, dream loud. Magic never rests.’
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
‘Shouldn’t you check that?’ Gigi asked. ‘You humans live for your little glowing rectangles. It could be something life-altering. Or it could be a pizza ad. Fifty-fifty.’
‘I’ll check later,’ she muttered. ‘Goodnight, Gigi.’
‘Nighty-night, doll face,’ he called, fading into a swirl of violet mist.
By the time Beth went back upstairs, the pub was vibrating with laughter and cheers.
‘We won!’ Jinnie shouted from across the room. ‘Only by two points! Janette’s team got the ABBA and Dallas questions wrong!’
‘Congratulations,’ Beth said, managing a smile. ‘I’ll just check on Rose and—’
‘No need,’ said Angela, gently touching her arm. ‘All under control. Go get some sleep.’
Wilma sidled up to Beth, tapping the side of her nose. ‘Your aura’s interesting, pet. No’ as dark as Kieran’s. More playful. Like a wee rainbow, with a bag of gold under it.’
Beth nodded, unsure what that meant. The noise, the warmth, the weight of everything drained her energy. She slipped away, her feet heavy on the stairs.
In her room, she kicked off her shoes and pulled out her phone.
One message. From Luke.
Beth. We need to talk. Sorry it’s been so long. Sorry for so many things.
I think of you all the time, but life has a funny way of turning things upside down.
Call me.
Luke x
Beth stared at the screen until the words blurred.
Somewhere deep in the pub below, the pinball machine gave a faint, satisfied ding.