Could It Be Magic

Wishful thinking

Irealise that thirty pounds may not seem a great deal to you, Mr Tomkins, but I assure you that as far as my two children are concerned it’s a small fortune that represents many weeks of their scrimping and saving.”

Michelle Rogers spoke angrily as she placed the oriental oil lantern on the counter in front of the antique store’s bewildered owner before stepping back, folding her arms purposefully and fixing him with an unblinking stare. “But –” he began. “There are no buts, Mr Tomkins,” she interrupted him. “You have taken advantage of two very gullible youngsters and I want you to return the money they paid you for this worthless piece of junk.”

“But it’s not junk, Mum,” said Kenny, full of a nine-year-old’s indignation. “It’s an antique and it grants anyone who rubs it one wish.”

“Poppycock!” scoffed his mother. “It’s an Asian knock-off of Aladdin’s lamp.” Turning to her daughter, she went on, “I’m more surprised that you allowed yourself to be conned into buying it, Rebecca. At thirteen, I’d have credited you with a bit more intelligence than that, really.”

“It was my money – well, most of it was,” the tall, pretty girl answered sulkily. “You told me I could do whatever I wanted with it.”

“Within reason, yes,” agreed her mother. “But to squander it on – ”

Maybe I should have got my nose pierced instead,” said Rebecca defiantly. “Like my friend Annie did. Or had a tattoo on each arm that said –” “Rebecca Rogers!” her mother began. “Ladies, ladies,” interrupted the man behind the counter, his arms raised, palms out, in an effort to restore calm. “Please! No family squabbles here – or anywhere else for that matter. I will gladly reimburse you the money and take back the lamp.”

Michelle and Rebecca fell silent, both of them embarrassed by their outburst.

“Does that mean that our wishes won’t come true then, Mr Tomkins?” asked Kenny, a look of concern on his freckled face. “I mean, if we didn’t pay for the lamp or get to keep it … will it still work?”

“Did you tell anyone what it was you wished for?” asked the store owner in a whisper that was deliberately loud enough for his mother and Rebecca also to hear. “And remember – I said it would be OK for both you and your sister to call me Gavin.”

“No, of course I didn’t tell,” protested Kenny vehemently. “You told us that unless we kept our wishes secret they wouldn’t come true, Gavin.”

“What a load of load of old codswallop!” interjected Michelle. “Magic lanterns? Wishes? Whoever believed in –”

“Kids.” The man smiled directly at her. “That’s what all we grown-ups were at one time or another, Mrs Rogers. Was there never a moment in your life when you believed in fairies, unicorns and genies that granted wishes – not to mention Father Christmas?”

Michelle looked closely at the young man behind the counter. He was about her age, quite tall and slim, with fair hair that could probably do with a trim. His eyes were more chestnut than hazel and his smile so natural and engaging, she found it difficult to remain angry with him.

In a way he reminded her of her late husband, not so much in looks as in the way he exuded personality. He had the same confidence and obvious ability to take charge of an awkward situation – not to mention gently calming her down when she got stressed.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Mr Tomkins,” she began uncomfortably. “That was very rude of me, but things have been a bit

“What CODSWALLOP! Magic lanterns? WISHES? Whoever BELIEVED in that?”

rough for the three of us these past couple of years since my husband passed away. Especially when it comes to finances…” Her voice began to wobble and she fumbled in her coat pocket for a handkerchief. “However that’s no excuse for my taking our problems out on you.”

“Hey,” said the man, reaching across the counter to offer her an open box of tissues. “I should have checked with you first of all. There’s no harm done.”

He watched her closely as she took a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. She looked very tired, he noted, and worry lines creased her pretty face.

But beneath the veneer of sadness and tough times that shrouded her elfin features he could see a woman he would like to get to know better.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” he asked her suddenly. “I haven’t had a break all day and business is always a tad slow at this time of year. So no-one will notice if I shut up shop for half an hour or even a bit longer… and to be honest, you look as though you could do with one too.”

“I’d really like to accept your offer,” said Michelle with a sigh. “Unfortunately we’re just on our way to the dentist for our check-ups.”

“Oh dear,” said Gavin, wincing. “Let’s hope you all get a clean bill of health.”

“Maybe some other time?” she suggested with a smile. “By the way, my name’s Michelle.”

“That would be nice, Michelle,” said Gavin as he opened the till. “Meantime here’s the thirty pounds I owe you, plus my business card in case you ever have any antiques you’d like to sell, and once again I’m sorry for… for… well, I’m sorry.”

“Me too, Gavin,” said Michelle as their eyes locked. “Can I make a wish before we leave your shop – or would that be hypocritical?”

“Of course you can, and no, I’m quite sure it wouldn’t be,” said the young shopkeeper, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “There’s no charge – but remember, you have to keep your wish to yourself.”

“Oh, I will,” she laughed, rubbing the lantern. “But only until it comes true.”

Five minutes after the trio had left, a woman probably in her late sixties or early seventies entered the shop and came up to the counter. She had a small street map in her hand that she’d folded and glanced at from time to time.

“Excuse me, young man,” she said. “I’m new to the area and was wondering if there was a coffee shop or café anywhere nearby.”

“Actually, there is,” said Gavin. “Turn left as you exit the shop and you’ll see one about fifty yards up the road on the corner of the High Street and Blake Avenue. It’s called Murchie’s.”

“Thank you so much.” The lady smiled, then noticed the oil lamp. “What a quaint lantern. Is it for sale?”

Gavin pondered for a moment then shook his head. “No I’m afraid it isn’t,”

he said. “I’ve decided to leave it here on the counter so that my customers can make a wish before they leave… if they want to, of course.”

“How different,” she said, reaching out and stroking it gently.

“Well it’s cheaper than giving away free sweets or biscuits.” He winked at her. “Just remember not to tell anyone what it was you wished for.”

“I will,” she said as he walked towards the door. “And I won’t.”

Michelle had been unable to get the antique store’s owner out of her mind ever since she and the two children had left his shop. Even as the hygienist had pricked, prodded and flossed her teeth, she’d sat patiently, her eyes closed, imagining what it would be like to spend more time with him.

Now, several hours later, she glanced at the mantel clock above the fireplace in her tiny house. Six pm. Probably the shop was closed already: on the other hand, maybe not. Anyway, there was only one way to find out.

Apprehensively she walked across the room, picked up the telephone and decorative business card and began punching in the number that was on it.

G avin’s store had been very quiet that afternoon, so he’d had a lot of time to think about the two children and their attractive widowed mother. What an idiot he had been not getting her

Very softly, he STROKED the lantern, eyes closed, and SPOKE out LOUD

phone number or address. Now he’d never be able to see her again… unless she came back into the shop or phoned. And what were the chances of that?

Sighing sadly, he walked back from the door having put up the CLOSED sign. Reaching the counter, he paused and looked at the lantern that sat there next to the till.

“Why not?” he said out loud to himself. “What harm would it do?”

Then, very softly, he stroked it several times with his right hand. As he did so he closed his eyes in concentration and said quietly out loud, “I wish… I wish that I could get the chance to know Michelle better.”

No sooner had he uttered the words than the telephone at the back of the store rang, momentarily startling him.

T here was only one seat left in Murchie’s and that was in one of the booths, across from an elderly man wearing a tweed jacket.

“Excuse me,” the lady said to him. “Is this seat taken?”

The man looked up while continuing to stir his coffee. He smiled pleasantly, put the spoon in the saucer and stood up.

“It is now,” he said, looking into her eyes. “My name’s Bill. Bill Higgins.” Bowing slightly, he extended his hand.

“Margaret,” she answered in surprise as she shook his hand. “Margaret Pearson…” Could it be her wish for companionship was going to come true?

Back in the antique store Gavin sat on the counter, talking happily into the phone. With his free hand, he picked up the lantern and looked idly at it.

What was it all those other people who had handled it had wished for, he wondered, replacing it on the counter. To get well again? To remain healthy? To have friends? To win the lottery? And had any of their wishes come true?

“Friday night is fine by me, Michelle,” he said cheerfully. “If you give me your address I’ll come round and pick you up around seven o’clock…”

Upstairs in Kenny's bedroom Michelle’s children were listening to their mother talking on the phone. Both were grinning and occasionally covering their mouths stifling the giggles that would alert her of their eavesdropping.

“It worked, it worked!” whispered Rebecca excitedly. “Just like Gavin said it would. My wish has come true.”

“So what was it?” asked Kenny. “If it really has come true, then it’s OK to tell me now.”

“I wished that Gavin would ask Mum out,” said Rebecca proudly. “And that’s exactly what he’s just done. What did you wish for?”

“I can’t tell you,” said her brother solemnly. “Maybe in a few weeks I’ll be able to. I wonder if everyone who rubs that lantern and makes a wish has it come true?”

“I don’t know,” shrugged his sister as they both returned to reading the books they’d abandoned during the phone call. “Possibly, but it’s not that important at the moment because mine has… and right now, that’s all that matters.”