Bhangra Babes Read online

  I went back into the hall, my brain operating on red alert. I headed straight for Baby.

  “Baby,” I said quietly, “I need your help.”

  Baby yawned and put down the chapati she was nibbling. “What's in it for me?”

  “My silver DKNY sunglasses,” I replied. “The ones you've had your eye on for the last six months.”

  Baby's mask of sophistication fell away instantly. “Are you serious?” she gasped.

  I nodded. “There's a boy outside,” I went on. “I want him kept away from the stage by whatever means are necessary. I'll leave that up to you.”

  Baby glared at me. “He's fat and spotty with sweaty hands, I suppose?” she sneered.

  “See for yourself,” I invited.

  We went over to the door, and Baby peered out into the corridor.

  “The guy in the leather jacket?” she asked in tones of utter disbelief. “What's the catch?”

  “No catch,” I said. “Just keep him away from the stage for the rest of the reception. That's all I ask.”

  “But—he's gorgeous!” Baby spluttered.

  I shrugged. “Well, if you don't think you're up to it…,” I began, turning away.

  Baby grabbed my arm. “Are you joking?” she whispered crossly. “Introduce me—now!”

  We went over to Rocky. He might have liked me best about two minutes ago, but he didn't spare me a single glance now. His eyes were fixed on Baby's undulating curves.

  “The band isn't sure if there'll be time for you to play,” I said.

  “But—” Rocky began.

  “Don't worry.” Baby took his arm, looking up at him from beneath her false eyelashes. “I'll look after you.”

  “This is my cousin, Baby,” I said.

  Rocky and Baby stared into each other's eyes. They were both spoilt and immature and had a high opinion of themselves. I guess they'd both found their soul mate.

  “Come and have something to eat,” Baby invited, and dragged him off into the hall.

  I sighed hugely with relief. We were safe. I had no doubt at all that Baby would fulfill her side of the bargain.

  I slipped outside into the cool air to take a few deep breaths. To my utter amazement, I came face to face with George Botley, who was loitering on the step. He

  stared at me in horror and tried to edge his way out of sight behind a large bush.

  “George, what are you doing here?” I cried, grabbing his sleeve. He looked as if he'd been running. He was pink and panting.

  “Nothing,” George mumbled.

  “Nothing,” I repeated with pointed sarcasm. “You turn up at my aunt's wedding and lurk around outside and that's nothing? Let's have it.”

  George stared down at his trainers. “I was trying to stop Rocky from coming here.”

  “What?” I stared at him.

  “I heard you talking about trying to stop him from singing at the reception.” George took a bunch of keys out of his pocket and held them up. “So I—er— happened to be passing the Gills' house this morning while they were loading the van—”

  “George!” I gasped. “You locked the van and took the keys?”

  George nodded. “But Rocky came anyway. I followed him here, but I couldn't think how to stop him coming in.”

  I stared severely at him. “George, that was a very foolish thing to do,” I scolded. “What if you'd been caught? I can't believe you've been so stupid.”

  George hung his head. While he wasn't looking at me, I allowed myself one big grin.

  “Well, now that you're here, you'd better come in and have something to eat,” I said briskly.

  “But I'm not invited—” George began.

  “You are now.” This time I couldn't help smiling at him. “George, I'd be honored if you'd attend my aunt's wedding.”

  George brightened up quite considerably. We went inside together to find Geena, Jazz and Kim dancing around in a panic just outside the hall.

  “Rocky's turned up,” Jazz wailed. “What are we going to do?”

  “At the moment Baby's distracting him,” added Geena. “But we're not sure how long that will last.”

  “Hello, George,” Kim said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Relax,” I said easily. “Everything's sorted.”

  Quickly I explained recent events. I'm sorry to say, however, that Jazz, Geena and Kim chose not to focus on my brilliance in preventing Rocky from taking to the stage. Instead they homed in on George's motives for taking the keys.

  “You must like Amber a lot, George,” Jazz said, smirking. “I mean, you might have been arrested.”

  “He must think Amber's worth it,” Kim chimed in, enjoying my embarrassment.

  “It's so romantic,” Geena added.

  “Oh, be quiet,” I muttered as I led George over to our table. Kiran had returned to sit with her mum and Auntie-ji, and Rocky and Baby were absorbed in each other in a quiet corner.

  “Well, of course I like Amber,” George said coolly, sitting down. “And she knows I do.” He flashed me a smile, and I have to admit my knees did wobble slightly.

  “Is this your musical friend, Amber?” Dad appeared from nowhere, clutching a plate of paneer curry. He has this ability to materialize out of nowhere whenever there are boys around.

  “No, he's otherwise engaged with Baby,” I replied. “This is George, Dad. He's in my class at school.”

  George stood up and held out his hand, which impressed me no end.

  “I hope your intentions are honorable, George,” Dad said sternly. “I have a very strict vetting procedure for my daughters' would-be husbands.”

  George looked stunned.

  “Dad!” I groaned.

  Dad burst out laughing. “I'm kidding,” he chuckled. “Well, not about the vetting procedure. But you're a bit young yet. Maybe in a few years' time.”

  “OK,” George agreed.

  “George!” I whispered crossly.

  Dad wandered away, still laughing.

  “Does this mean you and George are engaged?” Geena inquired, while Jazz and Kim giggled.

  “No,” I said.

  “Yes,” said George with a grin.

  “You're getting a bit above yourself now, George,” I retorted, handing him a plate.

  I checked on Rocky and Baby, who were ignoring everyone around them. Rocky's leather jacket was draped over a chair nearby.

  “Give me those keys, Georgie,” I whispered. “I'm

  going to slip them into Rocky's pocket while he's not looking.”

  I strolled innocently across the floor, dodging between the dancers, and dropped the keys into the jacket pocket as I walked past. Rocky and Baby were so busy staring into each other's eyes that they didn't notice me.

  I made my way back across the dance floor to our table.

  “Well, I don't know how you managed it, Amber,” Geena remarked, “but everything seems to have turned out for the best, for once.”

  I shrugged. “I told you to have faith in my ideas.”

  George stopped eating chicken curry and cleared his throat rather pointedly.

  “All right,” I grumbled. “Thank you, George. You were a big help.”

  “This will be our first night without Auntie at home,” Jazz said thoughtfully. “We'll be able to stay up late from now on, and do whatever we like.”

  “Takeaway pizza for dinner tomorrow?” suggested Geena.

  I sighed happily. “It'll be just like old times.”

  “I can see you're going to miss Auntie heaps,” Kim said sarcastically.

  “Of course we will,” I replied, “but we've got to make the best of it, haven't we?”

  “Until Dad decides to get a housekeeper.” Geena frowned. “We've got to make sure that doesn't happen. Maybe we can get Auntie on our side.”

  “Girls, are you having a good time?” Auntie and Mr. Arora were coming toward us, both looking flushed and happy. “Everything's going very well, isn't it?”

  We nodded.
Mr. Arora was staring at George with some surprise, but he didn't say anything.

  “Auntie, has Dad said anything to you about looking for a housekeeper?” Geena asked. “Because, to be honest, we really think that we're old enough to look after ourselves now.”

  “Well, that's a matter of opinion,” Auntie said with a smile. “But I can tell you that, no, your dad won't be hiring a housekeeper. He's decided not to.”

  We glanced at each other in delight but tried to make sure we didn't look too pleased. Auntie was quite capable of going off and changing Dad's mind for him.

  “The thing is,” Auntie went on, “we have some news for you.” She and Mr. Arora (or should I call him Uncle Jai now?) smiled starrily at each other. “We've just been speaking to Mrs. Macey—Gloria—and she wants to move down to Southampton to be closer to her family. Her house is going up for sale.”

  “And guess who'll be buying it?” Mr. Arora added with a beaming smile.

  We stared at them in disbelief.

  “You two?” Geena squeaked.

  Auntie nodded. “So I'll only be next door,” she said with a grin. “Keeping an eye on you, just like I've been doing.”

  “Fantastic,” I said weakly.

  Just then the band struck up a particularly catchy bhangra tune, and Mr. Arora whirled Auntie onto the dance floor.

  “Aren't you pleased?” asked Kim.

  “Yes and no,” I sighed.

  “It will be great in some ways,” Jazz agreed. “And not so great in others.”

  “Oh, well, so much for freedom,” said Geena. “That's the trouble with interfering aunties. They never give up.”

  “True,” agreed Jazz. “I feel sorry for our children, Geena.”

  “Why?” Geena wanted to know.

  “Because their interfering auntie will be Amber,” Jazz replied. “What a horrible thought.”

  “What you really mean is that your children will be the luckiest alive.” I leaned over and reached for George's hand. “Come on, George. If you want to impress my dad, the first thing you've got to do is learn to dance bhangra style!”

  About the Author

  Narinder Dhami was born in Wolverhampton and now lives in Cambridge, England. After earning an English degree from Birmingham University, she began teaching in London in the early eighties. She worked as a primary school teacher for ten years, but for the past twelve years she has been a full-time writer. At first she wrote almost exclusively for children's magazines, and she has had almost two hundred short stories and articles published. But after a few years she concentrated on writing children's novels. Her previous books (many available only in the United Kingdom) include Angel Face, Animal Crackers, Annies Game, Changing Places and the novelization of the hit movie Bend It Like Beckham. Check out her Web site at www.narinderdhami.com.

  Published by Yearling, an imprint of Random House Children's Books a division of Random House, Inc., New York

  Copyright © 2006 by Narinder Dhami

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

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  eISBN: 978-0-307-49411-5

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