Bhangra Babes Page 11

  I watched Kiran smiling at Rocky. Those weren't the only changes. There was a sparkle in her eyes and a spring in her step.

  And suddenly it hit me with all the force of a speeding train.

  Had Kiran gone and fallen for the very obvious charms of Rocky Gill?

  We walked the rest of the way to school together, but I didn't speak to or look at anyone. I was in a daze, a haze of guilt.

  I'd pushed Kiran toward Rocky. Now she'd fallen head over heels for him—and there was absolutely no chance of him feeling the same way. I'd made the situation one million times worse… .

  “You're very quiet, Amber,” said Geena suspiciously as we got closer to school.

  “Is that a crime?” I retorted. “Can't a girl have a bit of time to meditate and be quiet within herself for five minutes?”

  Geena stared hard at me. “Oh, now I know for a fact that there's something wrong,” she said. “You're never quiet, Amber.”

  “You even talk in your sleep,” added Jazz.

  “Shhh!” I jerked my head toward Rocky and Kiran, who were walking in front of us. “I don't want them to hear.”

  “We're going to the shop to get some chocolate,” Rocky called, turning round. “Do you girls want anything?”

  I shook my head. “We'll carry on to school,” I called. “See you later.”

  “Right, what's going on?” demanded Geena as we hurried away.

  “I'm a fool,” I said tragically.

  “So what's new?” Jazz yawned. “I thought it was something serious.”

  “This is serious,” I snapped. “Do you know what I think? I think Kiran's in love with Rocky.”

  Geena, Jazz and Kim stopped dead and stared at me.

  “Oh no,” Geena breathed. “You are joking? No, on second thought it makes perfect sense.”

  “He's going to break her heart,” predicted Jazz dolefully. “I knew you shouldn't have interfered, Amber.”

  “Has Kiran told you so?” Kim asked.

  “No,” I replied, “but it's obvious. Just take a look at her.”

  Kim was shaking her head. “Rocky's not Kiran's type,” she said. “She's clever and funny. Rocky's not that intelligent, and he can be a bit dull.”

  It was interesting that neither I, Geena nor Jazz leaped to Rocky's defense, as we would have done before.

  “But Kiran has changed over the last couple of weeks,” I persisted. “You have to admit that.”

  “Maybe she's just settling in at last,” replied Kim. “And she might have started to deal with her father's death too.”

  The three of us stared at Kim.

  “How do you know about that?” I demanded.

  “She told me one day last week,” Kim said casually. “We had quite a long chat.”

  “Well, you're a dark horse, aren't you.” I felt somewhat annoyed. “You never said.”

  Kim grinned. “You're not the only one who can keep a secret,” she retorted.

  “So what are you going to do now, Amber?” asked Jazz. “Are you going to talk to Kiran?”

  “No, she isn't,” said Geena and Kim together.

  “Why not?” I muttered. “I got her into this mess. I'll have to get her out of it.”

  “I think you've done quite enough,” Geena said sternly. “Leave it. You'll only make things worse.”

  “But it was me who forced Rocky to make friends with her in the first place,” I said hopelessly. “Now she's in love with him, and he's only using her because he wants to play at Auntie's wedding. He might not even want to be friends with her afterward. How is she going to feel?”

  Geena, Kim and Jazz stared at me in silence. When it was summed up like that, it sounded truly appalling.

  “Surely Rocky couldn't be so insensitive and unfeeling,” said Geena cautiously.

  Kim, Jazz and I didn't say anything. It was painfully obvious that not a single one of us had much faith in Rocky's ability to handle a delicate emotional situation.

  Now, I wasn't going to tell the others this, but I did have a plan. If it wasn't a good idea to talk to Kiran (and I could see that maybe it wasn't), that didn't stop me talking to Rocky and trying to find out if his intentions were honorable.

  I'm aware this is very strange. You might tell me I was wrong, but honestly, I didn't think I was. I believed that Rocky might—just might—have gone and fallen for Kiran himself!

  I know it sounds ridiculous. I know I might have been fooling myself. And, truthfully, I didn't believe it to begin with. But all the signs pointed that way.

  I spent the next few days trying to get Rocky on his own so I could have a word with him. Same old problem. If he wasn't talking music with Kiran, Geena and Jazz were forever hanging around, still determined to win the bet. To be perfectly frank, the bet was the last thing on my mind. But what happened was that I did start noticing exactly how Rocky treated Kiran.

  He was nice to her. Sweet, even. He shared his chocolate bars with her. He brought her CDs to borrow. He looked out for her in the playground at every opportunity. He spent a lot of time chatting with her. He was certainly going far beyond the friendliness that our deal required.

  “Could it be possible?” I asked myself, time and time again, “is it possible?”

  And the answer I came up with was—why not? I dared to dream. And besides, it would get me very neatly off the hook…

  “You were right, you know, Amber,” Jazz said solemnly. We were sitting on the canteen wall one lunchtime the following week, watching Rocky and Kiran making their way slowly across the playground toward us. “Kiran's in love with Rocky, and from here on in, that can only mean heartbreak and agony. And it's all your fault.”

  “Not necessarily,” I said.

  Geena, Jazz and Kim looked surprised.

  “What do you mean?” asked Geena.

  “Look more closely,” I told them. “Can't you see what's going on before your very eyes?”

  They all stared obediently at Rocky and Kiran, who had stopped to look at a couple of CDs Kiran had taken from her bag.

  “No,” they said together.

  “Kiran and Rocky,” I explained impatiently. “It isn't all one-way traffic.”

  “What have cars got to do with anything?” Jazz began, but Geena interrupted her.

  “Oh, really, Amber!” she snapped, looking quite angry. “You're not suggesting—? That's ridiculous!”

  “You think so?” Kim nodded several times. “I can believe that, actually. Amber could be right.”

  “Will someone please tell me what's going on?” Jazz screeched.

  “It's absurd, but now Amber thinks Rocky fancies Kiran,” Geena said curtly

  Jazz glared at us. “Stop messing about and tell me what's really going on.”

  “That's it,” I replied.

  Jazz stared at me incredulously, then she burst out laughing.

  “What's so funny?” I asked.

  “Well, look at Kiran!” Jazz began. “Look at us.” She stopped, suddenly realizing that she was getting into deep waters.

  “Go on,” I said.

  Jazz blushed. “Do I have to?”

  “You might as well,” Kim said. “It's what the three of you are thinking, anyway.”

  “We're not all as shallow as Jazz,” Geena retorted.

  “I'm not shallow,” Jazz said crossly. “Oh, all right, then. What I mean is that Kiran isn't even pretty, and we're all much better-looking. Even Amber.”

  “Thank you for that vote of confidence,” I said. “But haven't you heard of the old saying that what's on the inside matters more than what's on the outside?”

  “Yes, but I don't believe it,” Jazz replied. “Not where boys are concerned.”

  “Me neither,” added Geena. “Not in this case, anyway. Especially since you and Rocky made that deal. He'd do anything to play at Auntie's wedding.”

  “Well, I think Amber could be right,” Kim broke in. “I bet Rocky's never met such an interesting girl as Kiran, even if it was o
nly because Amber blackmailed

  him. I expect most of the females who hang around him are shallow, empty-headed bimbos.”

  “I hope you're not referring to anyone in particular,” Jazz said with a glare.

  “And don't think we haven't noticed that if it is true, it would get you out of a tricky situation, Amber,” Geena said sternly.

  “Would it?” Jazz looked blank. “How?”

  Geena cast up her eyes. “It would mean a nice, neat happy ending, and no heartbreak for Kiran.”

  “Oh, I see.” Jazz grinned at me. “So Amber's imagining things because she feels desperately guilty?”

  “Right,” Geena said. “And I, for one, think it's a complete load of nonsense—”

  Kiran dropped one of the CDs. Rocky bent to pick it up. He slid his arm round her waist and gave her a squeeze. Kiran laughed. She pushed him away. They began to mock-wrestle in the way that people who fancy each other (but haven't admitted it) often do.

  “Still think I'm making it up?” I asked triumphantly.

  Geena and Jazz looked visibly shocked.

  “I can't believe it,” Jazz muttered. “I won't believe it.”

  “I suppose it might be true,” said Geena weakly.

  “If it is, she'd better let him win the fight,” Jazz whispered. At the moment Kiran had Rocky in an armlock and showed no sign of letting go.

  “I thought he said he couldn't fancy anyone whose hands were bigger than his,” Geena said grumpily.

  “Obviously he's changed his mind,” I replied. “We'll just have to live with it.”

  “I know it's a big blow to your enormous egos,” said Kim kindly, “but you could try to be happy for Kiran.”

  Jazz gulped. “I suppose so,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “I guess this means our bet is off,” muttered Geena.

  “There doesn't seem to be much point to it now, does there?” I agreed sadly.

  Kiran had won when she hadn't even known about the bet in the first place… .

  While it seemed that romance was brewing between Kiran and Rocky, we also had a love affair closer to home to look forward to. With only a week to go to the wedding, the kurmai, Mr. Arora and Auntie's engagement party, was held on Saturday.

  “I think it's about time we stopped calling him Mr. Arora, don't you?” Geena observed sensibly as we fought to get our share of chicken and dhal. We were crammed into the Aroras' living room, along with assorted relatives from both sides of the family, and there was a desperate scrum for food. We were sandwiched between large, chattering aunties and bawling kids, and however hard we shoved, we didn't seem to be getting any closer to the table.

  “It seems like tempting fate to start calling him Uncle before they actually get married,” I replied.

  “What are we going to call him when we're at school?” Jazz demanded. She ducked under an auntie's elbow and snared a samosa. “He can't be Uncle there.”

  “Well, hello,” said Geena. “We carry on calling him Mr. Arora, of course.”

  “Surely even your tiny brain can cope with him having one name at school and another at home, Jazz,” I scoffed.

  Jazz looked affronted and ate the samosa without even offering us a bite. Meanwhile, Auntie, looking very sweet and innocent, was sitting on the sofa with Mr. Arora, receiving the good wishes of all the relatives. All Indian brides have to look sweet and innocent. It's their job. Auntie was very good at it, I thought admiringly. She did sweet and innocent in a very convincing way.

  Dad was circulating, being congratulated on marrying his sister off to a catch like Mr. Arora. This was almost too much for Dad, the softie, to bear. His eyes were looking suspiciously moist.

  “Girls!” shouted Auntie-ji, who had materialized out of thin air like a plump and cheery genie. “I haven't seen you for ages!” She grabbed us and hugged us one by one.

  “How are things at the community center?” asked Geena.

  Auntie-ji's face lit up. “Oh, there's so much to do!” she exclaimed joyously. “I've taken over the organization of the mum and baby group, and I help with meals for pensioners, and I drive the minibus, and— oh, all sorts of things!”

  She looked completely fulfilled, and her round face

  radiated contentment and goodwill. I felt extraordinarily pleased with myself.

  There was a kerfuffle at the door, which was Uncle Dave, Auntie Rita and our cousins, Jaggi, Sukhvinder, Bobby and Baby, arriving with Biji, their gran.

  “Where's Susie?” Auntie Rita bellowed at top volume. “I can't wait to meet this supposedly gorgeous young man she's marrying! Oh!” She caught sight of Mr. Arora sitting next to Auntie, and her mouth fell open. “Is that him?” She dropped her voice slightly but we could still hear her on the other side of the room. “How on earth did Susie manage to get her claws into him?”

  “No good ever came of marrying a handsome man,” Biji muttered darkly. “Ugly men are much more reliable.” She banged her stick on the floor, just missing Dad's big toe. “Doesn't anyone here have a cup of tea for a thirsty old lady?”

  Baby, who had always been one of our bitterest enemies, was causing quite a stir. She was poured into a long, silky pink skirt that sat low on her hips, and a matching top that knotted under her bosom, pushing it up and out quite a long way.

  Jazz eyed her with dislike, and Auntie-ji was also looking very disapproving.

  “Hello,” I said as Baby walked across the room, showing off her wiggle. “That's a nice top you're almost wearing.”

  “Miaow,” Baby purred. “Can I help the way I look?”

  “Yes,” said Auntie-ji, very unexpectedly. “You could stop putting all the goods in the shop window for a start. Men may like to rummage in the bargain basement, but in the end they always prefer to go for something a bit more upmarket.”

  Then she marched off, leaving Baby looking disgusted and me, Geena and Jazz giggling helplessly.

  “Who's that rude old bag?” Baby snarled.

  “Mr. Arora's auntie,” I replied, “and don't talk about her like that.”

  “Oh, yeah, Mr. Arora,” Baby went on. “Tell me, how did Auntie manage to land a gorgeous babe like him?”

  “Auntie may be lucky to get Mr. Arora,” I said sharply, “but he's just as lucky to be getting her.”

  Baby tittered. “Oh, come off it. She's hardly Miss World. I mean, she could do with losing a few pounds for a start—”

  The three of us stepped forward as one.

  “Why don't you leave our auntie alone and shove off before we dunk your head in the chicken curry?” Geena suggested.

  Baby sniffed. “I don't know why you're so fond of her all of a sudden,” she snapped. “I remember a time not so long ago when you didn't like her much yourself.”

  And off she tottered on her five-inch stiletto heels.

  “Do you think that's true?” asked Jazz. “Are we fond of Auntie now?”

  “I think so,” I replied. We'd been so preoccupied with Rocky, the bet and Kiran that we'd almost forgotten that Auntie would be moving out soon. Next

  week, in fact. “It's going to be strange not having her at home, isn't it?”

  Geena and Jazz looked glum. A space had cleared at the table, but chicken curry and rice had suddenly lost its appeal.

  “Dad hasn't said anything more about getting a housekeeper,” Geena said hopefully. “Maybe he's going to see how we get along.”

  “I expect Auntie will pop round quite a bit,” I pointed out. “They'll only be a twenty-minute drive away if they're living here. And you can't expect her to give up interfering in our lives completely. It would be unnatural.”

  “But when she and Mr. Arora buy their own house, they could be miles away,” Jazz replied.

  “Oh, why don't we just admit it,” I said. “We're going to miss her. It'll be nice not to have her interfering and being one step ahead of our every move. But we're still going to miss her.”

  Geena and Jazz nodded. And so it happened that Dad was
no longer the only person in the room with suspiciously damp eyes.

  You're looking good,” I told Kiran very innocently. It was Monday morning, the bell had just rung for morning break time and we were packing away our books after history with Mr. Lucas. “Has anything happened?”

  I know. I wasn't going to say anything to Kiran. But my curiosity about her and Rocky was getting the better of me. Beside me Kim cleared her throat very noisily. I ignored her.

  “Happened?” Kiran slid her books into her bag. I wondered if she was avoiding looking at me on purpose. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I just noticed that you seem a lot happier,” I replied.

  Kim elbowed me in the ribs. I elbowed her back, harder.

  “Things are easier at home,” Kiran replied,

  swinging her bag onto her shoulder. “We've had the house decorated, and we've unpacked and settled in.” She grinned. “And the baby's sleeping through the night now, which helps.”

  “Sure.” I followed her outside. Kim was poking me in the back, which was rather painful. “And?”

  “And me and my mum have got more time to talk about Dad,” Kiran went on. “You were right. It's better to talk than keep it all inside.”

  “I'm glad,” I said, and meant it. “Is that all?”

  Kiran frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Well … owl” Kim had just poked me particularly viciously in the spine. “Oh, nothing.”

  “I'll see you outside in a minute, then.” And Kiran disappeared into the girls' toilets.

  “There was no need for that,” I snapped, turning on Kim.

  “I was trying to stop you from making a fool of yourself,” Kim said in a saintly manner. “And from annoying Kiran. If she wants to talk about her feelings for Rocky, she will.”

  “I only wanted to help,” I muttered sulkily.

  “No, you were just sticking your nose in because you want to know what's going on,” Kim said with deadly accuracy (I wasn't about to admit it, though).

  I sighed as we went out into the playground. “I can't believe you think that of me after knowing me for eight years, Kim,” I said.