Bhangra Babes Page 9
Rocky threw me a sullen look. “OK, OK. Willya stop hassling me?”
“Just think about that gig at my aunt's wedding reception,” I said. “It could be the start of something big.”
A blissful smile spread across Rocky's face. “Yeah, it'll be the business,” he agreed.
I was learning quickly. A bit of flattery went a long way with Rocky Gill.
And I was more than ever convinced that my plan was the right one. During morning lessons Kiran was very quiet and subdued. Although we weren't fighting anymore, I couldn't say we were getting along any better. Kiran seemed to have folded right in on herself and was quietly drowning in misery. We could help her a bit with coming to terms with her dad's death, I was sure. Rocky would be the key to her settling in at school and making friends.
“Come and hang out with me and Kim,” I offered when the bell for break time rang at the end of history class. I admit that I had an ulterior motive. If I kept
Kiran close beside me, then I would be able to monitor Rocky's progress.
Kiran looked dubious. “I like being on my own,” she muttered.
“It's bad for you,” I argued robustly, very aware of Kim looking disapproving at my side. “Come on. Humor me. I'm going to get into serious trouble with Mr. Arora if I don't keep an eye on you.”
That got a bit of a smile. “Is that supposed to persuade me?” Kiran shot back. “Well—OK.”
“So you're going to put this ridiculous idea of yours into practice then,” Kim said as Kiran went to return her textbook to Mr. Lucas. “If you ask me—”
“Did I ask you?” I cut in. “I don't recall those words ever passing my lips.”
“I think you mean well,” Kim replied. “But there's obviously something upsetting Kiran, and Rocky's not at all sensitive. It could be the biggest mistake you've ever made.”
“Oh, zip it,” I retorted sulkily, following Kiran out of the classroom. Whoever would have thought the day would come when Kim would be lecturing me? Oh, for the good old days when I was in charge …
Once outside, I steered Kiran and Kim over to the wall by the canteen. It was a see-and-be-seen kind of place, so there was no chance that Rocky would miss us. And no chance that I would miss him. I had a secret suspicion that he wouldn't be at all keen to put his side of the deal into practice, and I was determined to make sure that he did.
At first there was no sign of him. Kim and I chatted idly about homework, while Kiran sat there in silence. After a few moments, Jazz joined us.
“Oh, so you're still here, Amber,” she giggled. “I thought you might have left the country.”
“Ha ha,” I said curtly. “Leave Auntie and Auntie-ji to me.”
“Are you in trouble or something?” Kiran asked.
“Not at all,” I replied as Jazz sniggered some more.
Just then Rocky came out of school. He was chatting to Geena, and both of them happened to glance in our direction. Rocky's face fell down to his knees. It was extremely difficult to glare at someone so beautiful, but I just about managed it.
Sulkily Rocky made his way over to us, his feet (in, naturally, very expensive trainers) dragging on the ground. Geena didn't look too pleased, either, to have their cozy little chat interrupted.
“Hello, Rocky,” I said, indicating Kiran with the tiniest nod of my head.
“Hi.” Rocky cleared his throat. “Hello, Kiran.”
Kiran was so surprised, she almost fell off the wall. “Oh—h-hello,” she stuttered.
I stared hard at Rocky, willing him on.
“Look, I'm sorry about Saturday,” he muttered, sounding as if every word was being pulled from him by force. “It's just that I've been looking for that CD for ages.”
“So have I,” said Kiran. She smiled a little. She looked so much better when she smiled. “I've got everything JC's ever done.”
“Me too.” Rocky frowned. “Well, almost.”
There was a short pause, and then they both laughed. I beamed. So did Geena and Jazz. Even Kim was smiling. Who was the idiot who said my ideas never work?
Rocky and Kiran were chatting about their favorite bhangra bands.
“I'm into the Punjabi Punks in a big way,” Rocky was saying. “And have you heard that new guy, Harbinder? 'Bhangra Nights' is a brilliant track.”
“That's not Harbinder,” Kiran said with a frown. “'Bhangra Nights' is by Desi MC.”
Rocky shook his head. “No, it isn't.”
“Yes, it is,” Kiran contradicted him coolly.
Rocky stared at her. I shifted uneasily. I was beginning to sense trouble in what might have been paradise.
“You're wrong,” Rocky snapped.
“No, you're wrong,” Kiran said quietly but firmly.
Rocky's face turned red. “We'll see!” he growled, and stomped off.
“Well.” Kiran raised her eyebrows at me. She didn't look at all upset. “He's touchy, isn't he?”
“I told you this wouldn't work,” Kim said self-righteously as we went back into school. Kiran had gone ahead of us, totally unmoved by Rocky's temper tantrum.
“Yes, Amber,” Jazz chimed in. “You've just made things worse.”
“You traitor,” I said bitterly. “You said it was good psychology.”
“No, that was Geena,” Jazz replied. “I agreed with her, but I had my doubts.”
I was secretly beginning to have my own doubts. Could Rocky pull this off? I wasn't convinced. But, of course, I still had one ace up my sleeve.
I reminded Rocky of this when I managed to corner him in the library during the afternoon.
“What are you playing at with Kiran?” I demanded. “Do you want this gig at my aunt's wedding or not?”
“Yeah, course I do,” Rocky replied sullenly. “It's just that Kiran really winds me up.”
“Well, get it sorted,” I said coldly. “You and Kiran have got to be best mates by the wedding, or our deal's off.”
“OK, OK,” Rocky muttered. “Look, I'll check out who's right when I get home tonight. Once I've proved her wrong, she'll have to apologize and I can take it from there.”
“You're very confident,” I said.
“Hey.” Rocky winked at me. “I am DJ Rocket Man, after all.”
“Pardon?”
“DJ Rocket Man.” Rocky puffed out his chest proudly. “That's my performing name.”
“Er—lovely,” I said. “Now don't forget. I want to see some results.”
Rocky slid his arm round my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “No problem, gorgeous,” he whispered in my ear. Which sent me on my way, smiling.
Oh, I was feeling very pleased with myself. At the end of the day, while I waited in the playground for Geena and Jazz, I mentally ticked off the things I was pleased about, and which I'd had a definite hand in. One: Auntie and Mr. Arora were getting married. Two: Rocky was going to cheer Kiran up, which would put me in Mr. Arora's good books and, therefore, in Auntie's. Three: I was becoming more and more convinced that Rocky liked me best, after that little display in the school library. However, the only fly in the ointment was—
“Where's Kim?” asked Jazz, wandering out of the lower-school doors. “Isn't she walking home with us?”
“No, thank the Lord,” I replied. “She left early to go to the dentist. Hopefully he'll tell her to stop talking so much or her teeth will fall out.”
Jazz chuckled. “Has she been giving you earache about Kiran?”
“Oh, yes,” I sighed as we joined up with Geena at the gates. “She's full of it. She's totally stressing me out.”
“Talking of stress,” Geena broke in, frowning, “has either of you noticed how hassled Mr. Arora's been looking lately?”
Jazz and I looked blank.
“Not really,” I replied.
“We had him for maths today,” Geena went on. “He was in a right mood. He nearly ripped Damon Keating's head off for getting a couple of sums wrong.”
“That doesn't sound like Mr. Arora,” I s
aid. “Maybe he's finding the job of head of the lower school a bit difficult. There must be a lot of paperwork.”
Geena shook her head. “I reckon there's more to it than that,” she said solemnly. “I think all this wedding stuff with Auntie and Auntie-ji is getting to him.”
“And talking of that,” Jazz said gleefully, “we still have the prospect of Amber telling the aunties about Rocky to look forward to.”
“Oh, dear,” I said, with my nose in the air. “Your life must be very boring if that's so interesting to you.”
I was doing my very best to be brave. But when we arrived home and saw Auntie-ji's white BMW parked at the curb, it took all my iron self-control not to freak out right there and then.
“You might as well tell them now,” Geena remarked with evident enjoyment as she slotted her key into the front door, “seeing as they're both here.”
“Oh, yes,” agreed Jazz. “It's the perfect opportunity.”
“Of course,” I replied coolly, while at the same time feeling as if I'd left my stomach behind on the front doorstep. Like a dead woman walking, I followed Geena and Jazz into the sitting room.
“Hello, girls!” Auntie-ji boomed, leaping to her feet
and beginning the usual round of bone-crushing embraces. “How are you?”
Auntie looked mightily pleased to see us too. I guessed that Auntie-ji had only just arrived, and we'd saved Auntie from having to entertain her on her own.
“Amber's got something to tell you,” Jazz announced when Auntie-ji had put her down and retreated to the sofa again.
“No, I haven't,” I said quickly.
“Yes, you have,” said Geena and Jazz together.
I was therefore forced to rely on the lightning-quick responses of my brilliant brain.
“Actually, I have got something to say,” I began. I turned to Auntie-ji. “Geena, Jazz and I were wondering if you'd like to come shopping with us tomorrow.”
Geena and Jazz both gasped in horror, but luckily they were drowned out by Auntie-ji's scream of joy.
“I'd love to!” she proclaimed, her round face beaming with utter happiness. “I'm sure we'll find some lovely wedding outfits for you this time.”
Geena and Jazz were shooting poisonous glares at me. Auntie, on the other hand, merely looked suspicious.
“Amber, will you come and help me make tea, please?” she asked.
“Of course,” I replied cheerfully.
Phase Two of my plan to avert catastrophe. I strolled jauntily into the kitchen, leaving Auntie-ji pinching Jazz's cheeks playfully.
“What's going on?” Auntie demanded, filling the kettle.
“What do you mean?” I asked with wide-eyed amazement.
“I thought the four of us were going shopping together tomorrow,” Auntie went on. “I know you were looking forward to it. You're up to something, Ambajit Dhillon, and I want to know what it is.”
“We just thought that we'd get Auntie-ji out of your hair for a bit,” I said casually. “You know, give you some time for yourself.”
Auntie looked stunned. “Oh!”
“You've been looking a bit tense lately,” I went on. “So has Mr. Arora. We just wanted to make sure that everything was all right.”
“I'm touched,” said Auntie. “Thank you very much.”
Now or never. I cleared my throat. “There is one other thing… .”
Auntie threw her eyes up to heaven. “I knew it!” But she was smiling, which gave me courage. “What is it?”
“I've organized the music for your wedding party,” I said in a rush.
Auntie stopped smiling. “You have?”
Quickly I explained about Rocky, although I didn't tell her about our deal. “He's really into bhangra, and I'm sure he'll be a fab DJ,” I said pleadingly. “And he writes all his own songs.”
Auntie frowned. “He's really fit, too, isn't he?” she added.
I stared at her in disbelief.
“I heard you three discussing him last week,” she said with a grin. She shrugged. “Oh, well, why not? I shall enjoy telling Auntie-ji that we've already arranged the music for the party. Last week she was talking about hiring a symphony orchestra.”
I gave a sigh of relief and picked up the tea tray. “So that's all right, then?”
Auntie nodded. “You know, Amber, you're getting quite skillful at interfering,” she remarked.
“Well, I was taught by the master,” I retorted.
We were laughing as we went back into the living room. Geena and Jazz were looking completely disgruntled. Auntie-ji was in the middle of a long and boring story about her childhood in Slough.
“Oh, Auntie-ji, we have something to tell you,” Auntie said casually as she poured the tea. “Amber has arranged the music for the wedding party.”
I couldn't resist glancing at Geena and Jazz. Their eyes were practically out on stalks, and you could have driven an express train through their open mouths. Meanwhile, Auntie-ji was looking enormously disappointed.
“Who will be playing?” she asked glumly.
Auntie explained about Rocky, while Jazz and Geena stared at me in disbelief. They couldn't believe I'd got away with it. To be honest, neither could I.
“Oh.” Auntie-ji seemed so very depressed, I couldn't help feeling just a tiny bit guilty. “Well, don't worry. I'm sure I can cancel.”
“You mean you'd already booked something?” asked Auntie, trying not to sound accusing.
Auntie-ji nodded. “You remember the Bhangra Boyz?”
Geena, Jazz and I looked blank, but Auntie gasped.
“My very favorite pop band of the eighties!” she said with a sigh. “I loved them to bits.” She stared at Auntie-ji. “You can't have booked them. They split up years ago.”
“I persuaded them to get back together for your wedding party,” Auntie-ji explained. “Most of them live in the UK, but we were going to fly the drummer and the bass player over from India.”
“Oh!” Auntie sank into the nearest armchair, looking overwhelmed.
I began to feel extremely uncomfortable. Meanwhile, Geena and Jazz were obviously enjoying the high drama.
Auntie-ji tapped a fingernail thoughtfully against one of her gold teeth. “Perhaps Amber's friend and the band could both perform,” she suggested. “After all, it would be nice to have a local boy as part of the entertainment. That way we'd get the best of both worlds.”
“Amber?” Auntie stared hopefully at me.
“Of course,” I agreed weakly. I couldn't believe I'd got off so lightly with both of them. But I was a bit worried that Rocky might think I'd broken our deal. I decided there and then that I wouldn't tell him he would be sharing the limelight until the very last minute.
“You have got to be the luckiest person in this entire world, Amber,” Jazz whispered in a disappointed
voice as the tea was finally poured. “I really thought you were going to die.”
“Yes, and we were so looking forward to it,” Geena added.
I smiled smugly. “Stick with me, kids, and you'll learn a lot,” I replied with a wink.
However, my luck finally ran out on Saturday when Auntie-ji turned up at 8:55 sharp to take us shopping. I realized, with a sinking heart, that it was a heavy price to pay for not getting into trouble over Rocky and the wedding party.
“Do you want to strangle Amber, Jazz,” asked Geena as we trudged down the Broadway behind Auntie-ji, “or shall I do it?”
“You do it,” Jazz muttered. “Your hands are bigger than mine, and it'll be a more painful death.”
“Look, how many more times do I have to say I'm sorry?” I demanded. We'd just suffered another lengthy session in Sameera's shop and had only just escaped by the skin of our teeth from being forced to buy the wedding outfits from fashion hell.
“Well, let's see,” said Geena. “About ten million should do it.”
We had stopped for the fourth time so that Auntie-ji could greet one of her many acquaintances. O
nce again, we had to endure the usual round of hugs, cheek pinching, head patting and questions about school. We were on our way to Jyoti Fashions, which was second only to Sameera's in complete non-hipness.
“Oh, come on,” I argued. “She's not that bad.”
“No,” agreed Geena with heavy sarcasm. “She'd be lovely if she just shut up for a moment or two and listened to what we said instead of ignoring us.”
“This is going to be terrible,” Jazz muttered. “Oh, it's so not fair of you to drag us into this, Amber… .”
She and Geena grumbled on while Auntie-ji chatted to her friend. I wasn't listening to either of them. My eye had been caught by a poster written in various Asian languages and in English, which was pinned in the window of Jaffa's sweet shop.
Though I say it myself, my brain was really working at lightning speed these days. The ideas were coming thick and fast! The minute Auntie-ji said goodbye to
her friend, I took her arm and dragged her over to the window.
“Look at this, Auntie-ji.”
“Yes, I've heard of them,” Auntie-ji replied, putting on her glasses to read the poster. “They do very good work in our community.”
“They're looking for volunteers,” I said pointedly.
“Yes, I would imagine they're always short of people,” Auntie-ji said, popping her glasses back in her handbag. “Now, shall we go to Jyoti Fashions?”
I sighed. Why was it that no one else could keep up with me?
“Why don't you volunteer?” I suggested.
“Me!” Auntie-ji's eyebrows shot upward. “But I never have a minute to spare. I'm far too busy.”
“Well, they always say if you want something done, ask a busy person to do it,” I reminded her.
“Yes …” Auntie-ji stared thoughtfully at the poster. “Maybe I'll pop in sometime for a chat.”
“Why don't you go right now?” I suggested ruthlessly. I pointed in the direction of Shepherd Road. “It's just there. We'll have a look in the shops around here.”
“Well, all right,” Auntie-ji agreed. “I won't be long. But don't bother going into Kareena's. The clothes in there are really outrageous.”
We watched her turn down Shepherd Road, and then we dived straight through the door of Kareena's.