by Bali Rai
‘Just checkin’ to see if anyone called me,’ Sukh replied, as Manj and Tej came over and gestured towards the pub.
‘Might as well go down the pub, innit – them fuckers ruined the football,’ said Tej, spitting after his sentence.
‘Might as well, at that,’ agreed Ranjit.
‘Ain’t it gonna kick off in there with them and us around?’ Sukh asked, worried that the fight would move to the pub.
‘Nah – it’s just a football thing, innit,’ Ranjit told him.
‘An’ even if it does,’ added Manj, smiling, ‘ain’t stopping me from goin’ in. I’ll fight ’em if it comes down to it.’
‘Them an’ their sisters,’ laughed Tej.
Ranjit smiled, showing a gold tooth, and played with his gold chain. ‘Fight their sisters?’ he said. ‘What I’d do to ’em – dunno if you could call that fightin’, innit.’
‘The girls or the lads?’ asked Tej.
‘I’m ready to batter their men and tek them women,’ said Manj.
‘Why all the fightin’ and shit – it’s just a footie game, innit?’ asked Sukh.
‘Don’t worry yourself, Sukhy,’ Ranjit told him. ‘There’s history here, man – them bastards got it coming.’
‘What history?’
‘Never mind – you is too young, innit. Just lef ’ it – ain’t nuttin’ happening anyway. Most of them mans is just talk, you get me?’
Sukh shook his head at Ranjit’s mix of accents and wondered what the hell he was talking about. He knew there was rivalry between the two sets of supporters but had no idea what it was about. As far as Sukh knew it had always been there. In the end he decided to leave it and stood outside the pub whilst Manj and Tej went in to get some drinks. They came back out with eight bottles of Pils.
‘Nah,’ said Sukh, shaking his head, ‘I asked for a Coke, man.’
Ranjit snorted. ‘Drink the beer, Coz,’ he said. ‘You with us, innit. We’s all family here. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you get home all right.’
‘But—’ began Sukh, only to have Tej cut him off.
‘Leave it, kid,’ he said, smiling. ‘Mek we drink these and then we’ll take you home.’
Sukh felt for his mobile in the back pocket of his jeans, wishing he had just gone home or called Rani. But then, as two bottles of beer were thrust in his hands, he decided to have a drink. After all, he was with his family and he’d told Rani he would call her later. He took a swig and joined in with his cousins, listening as they told dirty stories. They continued that way for about forty minutes, with others coming over to join them, before Ranjit told Sukh that he’d drop him off at home.
‘Wait, man,’ shouted Manj, as Sukh and Ranjit walked across the road to Ranjit’s car.
‘Give us a lift too,’ added Tej, finishing his fourth beer.
‘Come on then, you nutters,’ agreed Ranjit. ‘Let’s go.’
RANI
‘DO YOU THINK I’m a slag?’ I asked Natalie, as she sat on the other end of the phone line, speechless for the first time ever.
‘Er . . .’
‘Oh please don’t say “er”, Nat. How come the one time I need you to say something, you can’t speak? Can’t shut you up normally.’
‘It’s just a bit of a shock, that’s all, babe,’ she replied.
I smiled to myself. The real Nat was on her way back after the initial surprise.
‘You know,’ she continued, ‘one minute you’re just holding hands and the next . . .’
‘It was just as much a shock for me,’ I told her. Well, it was true.
‘So how did it happen?’
‘We were sitting on the sofa, messing about, like you do . . .’
‘Like you do, obviously—’
‘Natalie, will you listen?’
‘Sorry, babe – couldn’t resist. Carry on.’
‘That’s just it. We were messing about and we started kissing and the next thing—’
‘You were on the floor with no clothes on?’
‘Natalie!’
‘But that’s how it happened, right?’
‘Well . . . yes. But I never meant for it to . . .’
‘I’m not saying that you did. Mean it, I mean.’
‘See? You do think I’m a slag. You’ve even forgotten how to string a sentence together.’
‘Well – what did you think I would do? I mean, it’s great, if it’s what you want. I’m all happy for you, honest. It’s just that . . . Well, it’s just not like you. I’m the naughty one. You’re sweet, angelic Rani – my innocent sidekick. I’m not sure how this is going to affect the dynamic of our relationship, darling . . .’
‘Nat – what the hell are you talking about?’
‘Well . . . You. Being—’
‘What? A slag?’
‘No – just not the same . . .’
‘But I haven’t changed,’ I pleaded.
‘I’m not saying that you have but—’
‘Hang on, Nat – someone’s at my door . . .’
I put the handset down and jumped off my bed to see who was there. It was my mum.
‘Here, have some fruit,’ she said in Punjabi.
‘I don’t want any,’ I replied, eyeing the brown banana and wrinkled apple.
‘Beteh, it’s from the gurudwara – prashad – you must have some . . .’
I took the apple and closed the door. Prashad is the name for anything blessed during a Sikh prayer – often it’s old fruit that some old dear has brought along. I mean, how am I supposed to know what’s in it? Could be anything. I picked up my school bag and shoved the apple in and then picked up the handset, plonking myself down on my bed again.
‘Hey, babe,’ I said. ‘Sorry about that.’
‘Who was it – Mummy-ji?’
‘Yeah – same old nonsense . . .’
‘Never mind. Anyway as I was saying—’
‘You were calling me a slag.’
‘Rani – I wasn’t calling you anything. I wouldn’t – I love you . . .’
‘But you said I wouldn’t be the same.’
‘Yeah, but only in the sense that when I talk about Dev’s “William” now, instead of going red and telling me to quit it – you’ll be telling me all about Sukh’s . . .’
‘I will not.’
‘Maybe not – but do you see what I mean?’
‘You know, you haven’t even asked me once how I feel about it . . .’
‘I’m sorry. How do you feel?’
‘It’s not the same now. You’ve got to ask because I told you that you hadn’t asked. You’re only asking because you feel guilty—’
‘Rani, you’re beginning to sound like a child now . . .’
‘Oh, go and boil your head, you witch!’
There was a silence for maybe ten seconds and then we both started laughing.
‘If I was a witch,’ said Nat, ‘I’d be a damn sexy one.’
‘I’m sorry, honey,’ I replied. ‘I didn’t mean it . . .’
‘Look, this is stupid. Come round to mine.’
‘I dunno if my mum will let me,’ I said.
‘You haven’t even asked her. Can’t you say that I’m a new girl – call me Pritpaljit Kaur or something . . . ?’
‘Let me ask her and I’ll call you back.’
‘You’d better, you little witch, you.’
‘I’m not a—’
But the line had already gone dead. I sat and thought about an excuse for going to see Natalie. An excuse that my mum would go for. In the end I picked up my school bag, stuffed in a couple of maths textbooks and went downstairs, holding the wrinkled apple from earlier in my hand.
‘Mum, I’m going to Parvinder’s house to do my homework.’ Just for extra points I took a bite of the apple. Just a small one.
‘Parvinder? I’ve never heard her name before,’ replied my mum, but not with any real suspicion. She was too busy watching some Bollywood film on the telly.
I pulled out my textboo
ks. ‘Maths,’ I said, showing her the books.
‘Go on then, but be back by six and don’t turn off your mobile phone,’ she said.
My dad, who had been sitting opposite my mum the whole time, yawned, farted and showed no interest.
‘But finish your prashad first,’ added my mum.
‘I’ll eat it on the way,’ I shouted as I was already at the front door. I put my bag over my shoulder and ran down the long driveway and out into the street. Waiting until I got to the first junction with another road, I chucked the apple into a bush and spat out the piece I had bitten off. I pulled out my phone and rang Natalie.
‘Hey!’ she answered on the first ring.
‘On my way round, baby,’ I said, giggling like a little girl and instantly annoying myself. But I was in such a good mood. I was young, happy and in love. Enough to annoy anyone, I reckon. Not that I cared.
‘Jasmine’s here and my mum’s cooked dinner – there might even be a bit left.’
‘Get me a plate ready then,’ I said, flipping my phone shut and grinning to myself.
SUKH
AS RANJIT’S CAR rounded Beckingham Road onto Evington Road Sukh took out his mobile again, hoping that Rani had called or sent a message but there was nothing. He put it back again and listened to the beat of the bhangra tune pumping out of the stereo. The tune was big, getting played on Radio One no less, although listening to the DJs as they tried to pronounce the title made Sukh laugh. They didn’t have a clue how to say it properly, but then most of them probably never thought they’d be playing Punjabi folk music on prime-time radio. It was an OK tune, too. Not really Sukh’s thing but then he wasn’t really that into bhangra – it was something he didn’t mind, but given the choice he was a garage boy. And hip-hop.
Rani hated bhangra with a passion, which had surprised Sukh. Most of the Punjabi girls at school were into it big time – they had all the latest CDs and that – but then Rani didn’t really hang about with the other Punjabi girls. She was into the same stuff as her friend Natalie, which wasn’t that surprising. Coldplay and stuff like that. CDs that Nat nicked from her older sister, Jasmine. Sukh smiled to himself as he remembered Rani talking about dancing the bhangra.
‘It’s all sowing the seed and changing light bulbs and stuff, isn’t it?’ she’d said.
Sukh had mocked her about being a ‘white’ girl, but only for a laugh. It didn’t really matter to him what she didn’t like as long as she continued to like him. Lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice that the car had pulled over by the mosque at the bottom of Evington Road until his cousins had started to open doors and get out.
‘Best get ready – there’s a few of them now,’ growled Tej, as he got out. Sukh suddenly forgot all about Rani. He was wondering what was up.
Manj told him to stay in the car.
‘But—’ began Sukh.
‘I said stay in the car, Sukh,’ Manj cut in sternly.
Sukh did as he was told but leaned forward to turn the music down so that he could hear what was being said. Ranjit had parked the car about twenty-five metres ahead of a group of other Punjabi youths who were walking towards it.
Tej growled at Manj again. ‘You got my back this time?’ he asked.
‘You ain’t gotta worry about me,’ replied Manj, grinning, but not in a nice way.
‘Let’s wind them up,’ said Ranjit, as they approached. He waited until they were within earshot before speaking, without looking at them directly. ‘Mother used to be a whore,’ he said, leaning nonchalantly on the bonnet.
‘Yeah – sister too,’ added Tej.
One of the other youths, a big, stocky lad, stopped and looked at Tej. He obviously knew him. ‘You talkin’ ’bout my mum, Tej?’ he demanded, his eyes blazing.
‘We’re talking about someone’s mum,’ replied Manj.
‘I said, are you talking about my mum?’ repeated the youth.
Manj and Tej looked at the youth, each other and then at Ranjit, who smiled.
‘We’re not talking about your mum – just someone’s mum. Why – you wanna make something of it, Pete?’ said Ranjit.
The youth, Pete, looked at his mates and then back at Ranjit, his fists clenching by his side. ‘Do you wanna make something of it?’ he countered.
‘I ain’t starting nothing, but that don’t mean I won’t batter you if something starts,’ replied Ranjit, with a smug look.
‘Only thing you’re battering is a fish—’
Another car screeched up, this one full of men from the same clan as Pete and his gang.
‘Ah ki hoondah?’ said one of the men in Punjabi, wanting to know what was going on.
‘These Bains got something to say, Divy,’ said one of the youths with Pete.
The man got out of the car, a shiny black Audi A6, and walked up to Tej, Ranjit and Manj. From the look on their faces, Sukh could tell that they were scared of him.
‘That right, Tej?’ asked the man, ponytailed and dressed in black leather, his neck and wrists dripping with gold chains, huge gold sovereigns on his meaty fingers.
‘It’s nothing, rude bwoi,’ replied Tej. ‘No need for any trouble—’
‘What? You talk shit to them but now we’re here you wanna let it go? Ain’t you got the heart for it . . . ?’
Manj put his hand inside his pocket, quietly and quickly, and before anyone could blink he pulled out a flick knife. ‘BACK OFF!’ he shouted, moving between Tej and the ponytailed man.
For a moment everything was still and then the man spat to the floor and told the youths with Pete to go home. He turned to Manj, who still had hold of the knife but obviously wasn’t going to use it.
‘You fucking Bains dog – think I’m scared of you?’
‘You’re the one backing down now,’ sneered Ranjit.
‘Another day . . . another day . . .’
And with that the man turned and walked back to his car, got in and screeched off up Evington Lane.
Sukh waited until he had gone and got out of Ranjit’s car. ‘What the fuck was that all about?’ he asked, looking at Manj.
‘Don’t worry about it – just some family business,’ replied Manj. ‘I’ll tell you one day, Coz.’
The rest of the short journey home was made in silence as Sukh wondered at what he had seen. As soon as he got in he went to ask his dad about what had happened.
Resham Bains hardly looked up from the television screen as he replied in Punjabi. ‘You stay away from them idiots,’ he said. ‘That Tej is a drunk. Next time come home by yourself.’
‘But Dad, what was going on—?’
‘I told you – nothing for you— I’ll call Ranjit’s father later . . .’
And that was it. Sukh went up to his room and put his football kit in the wash. Just as he was about to get into the shower his mobile beeped a text alert at him. He picked it up and pressed the YES button. It was from Rani.
‘AT NATS – COME ROUND – PLS? X’
He replied, saying he’d be there in forty minutes and got into the shower. It took five whole minutes for him to forget about his stupid cousins and think only of Rani . . .
RANI
‘WHAT IF I was bald and had hairs growing out of my nose?’
I looked at Sukh and wrinkled up my nose. ‘Eeuurgh! That’s nasty . . .’
‘See – told you that you won’t always love me,’ he said, smiling.
I shoved him playfully. We were lying in his sister’s bed during an afternoon off school. Not officially a day off or anything. We’d planned it. We should have been revising for our GCSEs, which were coming up fast, but neither of us had exams on our minds.
‘Would you still love me if I was bald and had hairs coming out of my nose?’ I replied, stroking his chest.
‘You think there’s a good chance that might happen?’
‘No – but you know what I mean. I’m not always going to look like this . . .’
‘I’ll still love you when everything’s droopy—’
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‘Now there’s a lovely image. Do you really think that we’ll still be together?’
‘Nowhere else I’d rather be,’ he replied, running his fingers across my belly, making me wriggle.
‘Yeah,’ I said, thinking about something Nat had said, about men promising to do anything when they were lying next to you and you had no clothes on.
‘I’m naked,’ I continued, ‘so you’re not likely to say anything else, are you? I mean, you’re not going to say, “Well actually, I think you’re a dog and I can’t stand you.” ’
Sukh pinched me somewhere rude.
‘Oww! What was that for?’
‘For being an idiot,’ he said, laughing. ‘I think you’re wonderful, although in front of my mates you’re just my “ting”, innit.’
It was my turn to pinch him and I did, hard, on the inside of his hairy thigh.
‘Arrgh!’
‘Oh shut up, you ponce!’
‘Yeah,’ he said, in a silly, high-pitched accent. ‘You’s just mi gyal, man. You gets me?’
‘You sound like one of them bad-boy wannabes from school,’ I told him.
He leaned over and kissed me. ‘Parvy’s back over soon,’ he said, changing the subject completely.
‘Do you think she’ll mind that we’ve been using her flat to . . . y’know?’
‘Nah – I’ve already told her—’
‘You’ve already told her? Everything?’
‘Well, most of it . . .’
‘Oh cheers, Sukh – I bet she thinks I’m a right slapper—’
‘No she doesn’t. She just told me to make sure that we were safe. She can’t wait to meet you.’
‘When’s she coming back?’
‘Couple of weeks, I think.’
‘That soon?’
‘Yeah – she’s coming over for Mum’s birthday. It’s only for a few days . . .’
Secretly I was relieved that Sukh’s sister was only coming back for a few days – I wanted to meet her and I was sure that I would like her, but at the same time the flat was like a different world that Sukh and I could escape to. I knew that it wasn’t a ‘real’ world but it was still ours and I wanted to preserve it as much as I could. But thinking that way made me feel guilty and then I started feeling bad about myself. And Sukh noticed.
