Bhangra Babes Read online

  “How are you getting on with Kiran?” Geena and Jazz repeated together as loudly as they possibly could, just to embarrass me.

  “Oh.” I shrugged. “You know.”

  “Not really,” Mr. Arora said in an inquiring voice. “Do you think she's settling in well?”

  “I'm sure she is,” I mumbled uncomfortably.

  “She certainly enjoyed her lunch today,” Jazz chimed in. I gave her a look.

  “Well, I know you'll do your best to help her, Amber,” Mr. Arora went on. This, of course, had the instant effect of making me feel like a toad. “Maybe you could invite her over to your house sometime—”

  “What!” I gasped, just about stopping myself from adding, No way—never on this earth will I ever do that.

  Geena and Jazz were doing their best not to explode with laughter. They succeeded easily when Mr. Arora added, “Then Geena and Jazz could get to know Kiran too. In fact, I think it would be a great idea if all three of you did your best to make her feel welcome.”

  “So do I,” I agreed, smiling at Geena and Jazz. They both lapsed into a sulky silence, which lasted until we reached our house.

  Auntie was standing at the curb, helping Mrs. Macey into a cab. The driver slung a heavy suitcase into the boot, and the taxi pulled away as Mr. Arora drew to a halt.

  “What's going on?” Jazz asked nosily as we climbed out of the car.

  “I've finally managed to persuade Gloria to go and

  visit her daughter in Southampton,” replied Auntie. She was dressed for tea with Mr. Arora's parents in a pale pink suit embroidered with silver, and strappy silver sandals.

  “You mean the one she hasn't spoken to for five years?” I asked. “Just because she's married to a black guy?”

  Auntie nodded. “She's never even seen her two grandchildren,” she said. “I've told her to bring them all to the wedding.”

  “Imagine not speaking to a close relative for five years,” Geena remarked. “Although after what happened in assembly this morning, I can understand it completely.”

  “What happened in assembly this morning?” asked Auntie, onto the trail like a bloodhound.

  “We don't really have time for this now,” Mr. Arora broke in. I threw him a grateful look. “We'll see you in about half an hour.”

  He waved and drove off.

  “Isn't that Mrs. Macey thing just so Auntie?” Geena said admiringly as we went into the house. “Here she is, with her wedding coming up, yet she still has time to go around interfering in other people's lives.”

  “I know,” I replied. “It's a remarkable achievement.”

  We ran upstairs to get changed and fight over the bathroom with Dad, who'd come home early from work. Jazz started getting on my nerves, fussing about which outfit she was going to wear. I decided to take my revenge by locking her wardrobe and sticking the

  key down my bra. We ended up wrestling for supremacy on the bed.

  “You know what,” Jazz panted, trying to wriggle out of the headlock I'd got her in, “I'll be so-o-o glad when you move back into your own room.”

  “Oh!” I said. “I'd forgotten about that.” Of course, when Auntie moved out, I'd get my bedroom back. That was one good thing.

  Geena strolled in, looking deliciously cool in a violet silk skirt, matching short top and floaty chiffon wrap. “Aren't you two ready yet?”

  Jazz snatched the key from the duvet, where it had fallen. “Amber's being very childish,” she said, flouncing over to the wardrobe. “I hardly think that's going to impress Rocky Gill.”

  “Oh, and you think you will?” I scoffed.

  “You can mock,” Jazz replied snootily, whipping out an orange and gold suit with wide-legged trousers and a funky beaded scarf, “but I have a plan to win this bet.”

  “So do I,” said Geena.

  “And you think I don't?” I said quickly.

  I didn't. But I was going to think of one very quickly.

  “Girls, it's time to go.” Dad popped his head round the door five minutes later. “You all look very nice.” He sighed and shook his head. “You know, I really can't believe that my little sister's getting married.”

  “Dad, you're not going to cry, are you?” asked Geena.

  Dad blinked. “Of course not,” he said. “We have to

  think about what we're going to do when your aunt moves out, though. I might hire a housekeeper.”

  “Someone to cook and clean?” Jazz's face lit up. “Excellent.”

  “And to look after the three of you.”

  “Dad!” Geena protested. “I'm fifteen in a couple of months. I really don't need a babysitter.”

  “We'll see,” Dad said, and went out.

  “We certainly will,” Geena promised grimly. “I think we need to put a stop to that little idea, girls, wouldn't you say?”

  “You bet,” Jazz and I agreed.

  We'd met Mr. Arora's parents before. They were lovely. His dad was very gentle and quiet, with a shock of white hair, and his mum was small and thin and always smiling. As we sat in their living room, she kept blessing us and thanking Guru Nanak, whose picture was on the wall, for bringing her such a good daughter-in-law.

  “I thought our beta would never find a wife.” She beamed as she handed round the plates of barfi, laddoo and gelabi for the fifth time. “I was beginning to despair of ever having any grandchildren.”

  The tips of Mr. Arora's ears turned pink, and Auntie looked pleased but embarrassed. The three of us were enjoying it all enormously, of course.

  “The boy was married to his job,” Mr. Arora (senior) added. He turned to Dad. “More whisky?” he asked, pouring it anyway.

  “I'll drive home if you've had too much tea, Johnny,” Auntie whispered.

  “Our Jai was always such a good boy,” Mrs. Arora went on, forcing a third samosa on Jazz. “He studied hard, never gave us a moment's trouble.”

  I decided it was time to stir things up a bit. Playfully, of course.

  “Do you have any baby photos?” I asked. “We'd love to see them.”

  Auntie threw me a sour look. Mr. Arora (junior) gulped.

  “Oh, come now, Amber,” he said. “You're not really interested.”

  “We are,” the three of us chorused. We were possibly motivated by a teeny-weeny desire for revenge at having Kirandeep Kohli so unceremoniously foisted on us.

  Mrs. Arora looked thrilled. “Of course, we have hundreds!” she proclaimed with glee. “Wait one moment—”

  Bang! We all jumped. Someone had just flung open the front door with a resounding crash. Bang! We all jumped again as it closed. Thump! Thump! Thump! We heard footsteps coming down the hall toward the living room.

  “What the hell is going on?” Geena whispered in my ear.

  I did not have time to reply before—bang!—the living room door was thrown open.

  A woman in a pink sari stood there grinning widely at us. She was almost as broad as she was tall. She virtually filled the doorway.

  Then, with a joyful shriek, she raced across the room, trampling my toes in the process, and hauled Auntie off her chair into a bone-crushing embrace. I have a confused memory of Auntie's feet not even touching the floor.

  “We meet at last!” the woman roared. “Oh, how I've longed for this day!”

  Auntie looked stunned and for once was speechless.

  “Hello, Auntie-ji,” Mr. Arora began.

  “Ah, come here and give your old auntie a hug!” The woman turned to Mr. Arora, hauled him off his chair and pinned him to her large bosom.

  “I hope we're not next,” Jazz whispered.

  Sadly, we were. Mr. Arora's auntie worked her way round the room like a boa constrictor, hugging the life out of each of us and leaving us half dead on the sofa.

  “Now!” She stood in the center of the room, hands on her hips. “Tell me what wedding arrangements have been made so far.”

  “Well, not many,” Mrs. Arora began timidly.

  Auntie-ji held up
a large, square hand. “Then you can leave it all to me,” she proclaimed happily. “I'm going to take everything off your hands.”

  She leaned over and pinched Auntie's cheek. I think it was meant to be affectionate, but it seemed to hurt. Auntie had been speechless for the past five minutes, which was probably a world record.

  “Oh, this is going to be so much fun,” I whispered to Geena and Jazz. “Now Auntie's got an interfering auntie too!”

  “Idon't like lying,” Kim said, frowning. “It shows a lack of integrity.”

  “Oh, please,” I retorted. “You can't even spell integrity. And if you're that bothered, why don't you go to the library right now? Then it won't be a lie, will it?”

  It was two days after tea with the Aroras. Things were not going well on any fronts. Auntie still hadn't recovered from her encounter with Mr. Arora's auntie. Apparently she was legendary amongst the Arora family for sticking her nose in and having the hide of an elephant when it came to listening to hints. Auntie-ji had elaborate, expensive and outrageous ideas for every aspect of this wedding, from the reception venue to Auntie's shoes. Auntie had been overheard

  telling Mr. Arora that he was going to have to put his foot down and stop her from interfering so much. Mr. Arora had looked quite ill.

  More importantly, I hadn't had any chance to get to know Rocky better. In fact, I'd hardly seen him. My only consolation was that Geena and Jazz didn't seem to be getting on that well either. Geena's only claim to fame was that she'd stood behind him in assembly the day before, and she could confidently state that he had a lovely neck.

  Mr. Arora was still going on at me about looking after Kiran Kohli, who did not improve on closer acquaintance. Luckily we seemed to have reached some sort of truce. A silent one. We didn't speak to each other unless there was a teacher watching.

  So now my idea was this: I had to get Rocky on his own, without my two ugly sisters around. The only possible time was before school. I'd noticed that Rocky had arrived ahead of us the previous day, so I was hoping he would do the same this morning. And somehow I had to lose Geena and Jazz along the way.

  Of course, this simple plan involved an elaborate ruse on the scale of plotting to steal the Crown Jewels. First, I had to tell Auntie that I was going into school early because Kim and I had to go to the library to finish a project we were doing together. I added Kim into the mix because I thought it sounded more authentic. But then, tiresomely, I had to tell Kim because Auntie was quite capable of ringing her to check that this was true. It's so inconvenient having inquisitive relatives.

  Second, I knew that Geena and Jazz would smell a big fat rat if they found out I was going into school early. And I couldn't ask Auntie not to mention it because she'd want to know why not. So I just had to hope she didn't say anything until after I'd gone. That was always unlikely where Auntie was concerned, but luckily for me she was out for most of the evening with Mr. Arora. All that was left was for me to hide my school uniform in the airing cupboard, wake myself up early without an alarm, sneak out of bed without rousing Jazz, wash and dress without waking Geena, and tiptoe out of the house. Easy, really.

  “It would still be a lie, even if I went to the library now,” Kim replied doggedly. “It would be a lie in retrospect.”

  “Have you swallowed a dictionary?” I jeered, arranging my fringe so that it fell casually over one eye. “Anyway, you might as well go to the library as anywhere else. I need you to push off”—my face brightened as Rocky sauntered through the gates— “like, right now.”

  “Are you sure you don't want me to stay?” asked Kim. “You might make a fool of yourself without me to help.”

  I sent her packing with a look. Then I dropped my bag at my feet, hitched my school skirt a little higher and smiled sweetly.

  Rocky came over to me. The sunlight glinted on his jet-black hair, and I felt my heart quiver and my knees weaken.

  “Fancy a Polo mint?” he asked, holding out the tube.

  I hate Polos. Of course, I took one. If he'd offered me a pebble, I'd have eaten it.

  “How're you doing?” he asked.

  “Fine. What about you? How are you settling in?” My voice sounded fluttery, so I took a deep breath.

  Rocky shrugged. “Schools are all the same, aren't they?” he drawled. “Same old crap.”

  “Absolutely,” I agreed breathlessly, hanging on his every wonderful word.

  Rocky glanced over his shoulder. “Your sisters not around?”

  Curses! Did that mean he liked one of them better than me?

  “No,” I said quickly. “Jazz likes to watch cartoons in the morning before she comes to school. Well, she is only twelve. And Geena has to see the doctor this morning. About her rash.”

  “Rash?” Rocky repeated.

  “Yes,” I replied. “Her skin's been peeling off for weeks. Apparently it's very contagious.”

  Rocky looked surprised. “I hadn't noticed.”

  “Oh, it's only on her arms and legs,” I said cheerfully. “But it might be best to keep your distance.”

  “I got ya.” Rocky pointed a finger at me. “See you later?”

  “Yes,” I said eagerly, just about stopping myself from adding please. “Maybe we could meet up at lunchtime?”

  Rocky nodded lazily, and off he strolled to join a

  bunch of Year 10 boys who were kicking a football about.

  “Yes!” I mentally punched the air. Then I muttered, “Oh dear.”

  Geena and Jazz were standing just inside the gates, glaring at me. Their looks were bitter.

  “Oh, so this is where the library is, is it?” Jazz remarked with heavy sarcasm as she came toward me. “I thought it was inside the school.”

  “Really, Amber!” said Geena sternly. “I didn't think you could stoop so low.”

  “Nonsense,” I said. “All's fair in love and war.”

  “Oh, so you've been found out.” Kim appeared, clutching a library book. “Serves you right.”

  “I don't care,” I said smugly. “It was worth it.”

  “What did you talk about?” Jazz asked, clearly bursting to hear everything. Geena was too, but she would have died before asking.

  I tapped Jazz lightly on the nose. “Wouldn't you like to know?” I said jauntily.

  The bell rang. Jazz was about to attack me, so you could say I was literally saved by the bell. I bounced into school feeling very cheerful, followed by Kim, who radiated disapproval from every pore.

  “Hey, Georgie.” I smiled at George Botley, who was hanging his jacket up. “How's it going?”

  “OK.” George smiled back. The improvement was tremendous, but sadly he still wasn't in the Golden Boy league. For a moment it looked as if he was going to come over. But then his path was blocked

  by Victoria Kwame, who grabbed his arm and started twittering about maths homework.

  I shrugged and turned away. I had bigger fish to fry, anyway.

  Kiran was already at our table, reading a history textbook. I could feel Mr. Hernandez's eyes boring two red-hot holes in my back as I went over to her. At least getting up early meant I hadn't run into her delivering newspapers.

  “All right?” I said with as much of a fake smile as I could muster.

  “Fine,” she snapped, baring her teeth.

  I shot a glance at Mr. Hernandez, resplendent in a purple Hawaiian shirt dotted with yellow tropical blooms. Our short exchange seemed to have satisfied him, and he opened the register.

  Looking flustered, Kim joined us. “I can't find my Julius Caesar notes,” she said. “I wondered if either of you had picked them up by mistake.”

  I rooted through my bag. “Not me.” I glanced at Kiran. “Aren't you going to look too?” I demanded.

  “In a minute,” she snapped. She didn't even have the courtesy to raise her eyes from her book.

  “You know, it really is an art to be this obnoxious,” I said in a low voice. “Congratulations.”

  “It doesn't matter, Amber�
��” Kim began.

  “Of course it does.” I noticed Mr. Hernandez staring at us again, and pasted a smile to my face. “She can't talk to you like that.”

  “She wasn't talking to me,” Kim replied. “She was talking to you.”

  Kiran glared, spotted Mr. Hernandez and gave us an artificial smile. “Why don't you two just shove off and leave me in peace?” she suggested through her teeth.

  “You're a complete pain in the butt—you do know that, don't you?” I said with a savage grin.

  “Glad to see you're all getting on so well, girls,” called Mr. Hernandez.

  “You should have asked Kiran nicely,” Kim said as we went off to our first lesson—maths with Mr. Arora. “You were a bit rude. And you didn't need to stand up for me either.”

  “I've been doing it since we were five,” I said. “You've never complained before.”

  “You just wanted to interfere,” retorted Kim.

  “Thanks for being such a good friend, Amber,” I said pointedly. “No, really, Kim, don't mention it.”

  “I won't,” Kim replied.

  We stopped in the corridor before we reached Mr. Arora's classroom, and turned to look for Kiran. This was our new routine. Kiran would join us, and we'd go into the classrooms together, so that the teachers didn't have anything to moan about. Then at the end of the lesson we'd leave together and instantly go our separate ways. It was the only way to avoid attacking each other.

  But I had more pressing problems on my mind than

  Kiran. I had to plan my next move on Rocky Gill, as well as keep one step ahead of the others…

  “Jazz, what are you doing?” I asked with eyebrows raised.

  It was lunchtime, and Kim and I were sharing a quiet moment and a Twix, when people began to laugh and point at the canteen. I looked to see what was so amusing and saw Jazz clinging to one of the canteen windowsills like a monkey.

  “Trying to look through the window, of course,” Jazz snapped, scrabbling for a nonexistent toehold. “Oh!” She collapsed feebly to the ground.