by Bali Rai
‘I’m sorry,’ I said.
‘Sorry for what? Ain’t your fault.’
‘It was my brother . . .’
‘Yeah – well you ain’t your brother and anyway I didn’t have to get involved.’
I leaned across Parvy’s sofa and touched his other cheek softly. I thought he would pull away, tell me to stop. We’d met at the flat the morning after, and hadn’t kissed each other or anything. There was something between us, like a kind of invisible wall holding us back. The wall was my brother. Or so I thought. But Sukh didn’t flinch or move away so I felt secure enough to move across to him and kiss him where I had just touched him. He turned his head towards mine and kissed me back and then he said sorry.
‘It’s not your fault, either,’ I told him.
‘I didn’t even see it coming. Just turned my head—’
‘And it was Divy . . .’
‘Dunno. He started the whole thing but I didn’t see who—’
‘No – it was Divy. I heard him tell my dad about it.’
‘Whatever – it was stupid . . .’
I took my hand and touched his wounded cheek this time, stroking him gently. I had been sick again that morning and still felt nauseous. I wanted to tell him, to find out what he would say. What he would think about it. But then again, he was a boy and what would he know about it? My mind started wandering through a minefield of different thoughts – different reasons for my feeling sick all the time, not once letting me settle on what might well be the real reason. That I was pregnant. I shivered.
‘What’s up, babe?’ asked Sukh, feeling me tremble.
‘It’s nothing – just been a bit sick, that’s all.’
‘Maybe you’ve got a bug coming on or something . . .’
Maybe I’m just not going to come on, I thought to myself.
‘Yeah, maybe,’ I replied, closing my eyes as I pulled up against him.
‘So – what we gonna do?’ he asked, stroking my hair.
‘There’s nothing we can do,’ I said, feeling a little calmer. Not for long though.
‘We could just tell them,’ suggested Sukh.
I pulled away and looked at him. ‘Tell them?’ I asked, astonished.
‘Yeah . . . maybe get them all together and—’
‘Sukh, have you gone mad?’
I couldn’t believe what he was saying. There we were, together, when our families hated each other and fought all the time, with me possibly pregnant, and he was talking about telling them.
‘Just think about it for a minute, Rani. I kind of let slip to my dad that we know each other—’
‘Sukh . . .’ I was shaking.
‘He didn’t even hear me—’
‘You told him?’
‘Rani – believe me – he had other things on his mind. He was going all misty-eyed and talking about your dad and how they used to be best friends.’
‘Just like my dad . . .’
‘Yeah – so why don’t we just tell them and get them together. Maybe we can end this whole stupid mess—’
‘No!’
Sukh looked at me, raising an eyebrow. ‘Just like that? No?’
‘Even if my dad did go along with it – which he won’t because he’s already threatened to throw me out into the street if he ever catches me going out with someone – but even if he does, Divy won’t ever let it lie.’
‘But surely if your dad comes round, then Divy can’t say fuck all.’
‘You don’t know him,’ I told Sukh, who touched his wound and begged to differ. I shook my head. ‘No – that’s just mild. Divy is dodgy – and I mean dodgy. He’s into stuff . . .’
‘What kind of stuff? Like he’s some kind of bad man . . . ?’
‘He’s just a bit crazy. He’s got all these dodgy mates and he’s always hanging round with them . . . God knows what they do . . .’
‘So you’re saying he’s some kind of gangster?’ laughed Sukh.
‘It ain’t funny, Sukh. He’s got all this money and not all of it comes from the family business. There’s like this whole other side that—’
‘Shit,’ said Sukh, looking worried. Like he’d just remembered something that made him believe me. It turned out that he had. ‘The first time I seen him,’ he told me, ‘there was this shit going on with some of my cousins and he got out of his car and Tej acted like he was scared of him. Or wary at least . . .’
‘I’ve seen people do that when he’s around,’ I admitted.
‘And you think . . . ?’
‘I dunno what to think. I don’t think he’s a criminal or anything, but then I don’t know where he gets his money – most of it. It’s not all from the business . . .’
‘But why would he go against your dad’s word?’
‘He wouldn’t. He’d never let my dad agree in the first place. And he’ll never forget . . .’
I’d managed to scare myself, never mind Sukh – and I was talking about my own brother. But I wasn’t making it all up. Divy had always been a little bit scary. And now he was always dressed in leather, with a diamond-studded band holding his ponytail, and dripping in gold, going out at all hours and talking secretly into one of his three mobile phones. And if I was pregnant – well, there was no way he’d let that go. Not Divy. Suddenly I wanted to cry I was so scared.
‘Look, he can’t be all that bad, can he? If your dad—’
‘Sukh, you’re not listening to me,’ I pleaded. ‘You can’t tell them – it’ll make things ten times worse than they already are . . .’
‘They couldn’t get much worse, Rani.’
‘Really? What do you think Divy will do if he finds out I’m—’ I caught myself just in time. I was so angry and scared that I’d nearly told Sukh that I was pregnant – not that I even knew that I was . . .
Sukh raised an eyebrow again. ‘That you’re what?’ he asked.
‘Going out with you,’ I said quickly, feeling a little sick.
I pulled further away from Sukh and stood up, hoping that it might help ease the nausea. All it did was make my head spin and then I felt the surge of bile and ran to the bathroom. Sukh followed me, once he’d realized what was happening, and held my hair as I threw up, using his free hand to rub my back.
Ordinarily I would have died of embarrassment but I didn’t have time and Sukh’s reaction to my apologies, after I had cleaned myself up, was to kiss me and give me a big hug. To tell me that it wasn’t a problem. Just adding to the huge long list of reasons I had in my head that convinced me that I loved him more than anything in the world; that the two of us were born to be together. I could have kissed him until I died . . .
‘I think you should call your doctor,’ he told me still later, as we prepared to go back to our other lives.
‘I think you might be right,’ I answered, trying to hide my increasing fear.
‘Maybe you’ve eaten something bad,’ he suggested.
‘Yeah, maybe,’ I replied.
I looked at my watch and told Sukh that I had to go. He walked me down to the street and over to the taxi rank. Before I got into a car, he gave me a hug and told me not to worry.
‘We don’t have to tell them anything. We’ve got all the time in the world . . .’ he said.
I couldn’t reply. I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. My legs were aching, my head spinning. We had all the time in the world. But the thing was that our world was about to come crashing down around us, like a furious waterfall, drowning us both . . .
RANI
THE FOLLOWING SATURDAY I managed to convince my dad that I needed to be at Natalie’s house by eight in the morning. I told him that we were going to Alton Towers for the day with her mum, and perhaps because he was preoccupied by other things he didn’t even give it a second thought, telling me to have a good time and giving me fifty quid. I packed a bag with a change of clothes and showered quickly before almost running to Nat’s house in my Adidas sweat pants and T-shirt. I don’t know why I pac
ked the change of clothes. It wasn’t like I was really planning on going to Alton Towers – or anywhere else. We were about to find out what was really up with me.
Nat was still in her pyjamas when she let me in, yawning and apologizing for looking like a gargoyle, which she didn’t. I followed her upstairs, slumped down on her unmade bed and opened my bag. I showed her the box I had bought from Boots in town the day before and let her read the instructions. She didn’t say a word as she opened the box and pulled out the information leaflet. Eventually she sat down next to me and kissed me on the cheek.
‘So when were you supposed to come on?’ she asked in a sleepy voice.
‘Nearly three weeks ago,’ I said, not looking at her.
‘And your boobs are swollen and you’re being sick?’
‘Yeah.’
Nat shrugged her shoulders and tried to smile. ‘I think this is going to be a formality, baby.’
I looked at her. ‘In what way?’ I asked stupidly.
‘Rani – you’re pregnant . . .’
There was a knock at the door. Nat opened it and then asked me if it was OK to let Jasmine come in. I pushed the contents of the box underneath the covers and said yes.
Jasmine came and sat down on the bed, immaculately dressed in linen trousers and a white top, even at that time of morning. She took hold of my hand and smiled. ‘I know, Rani,’ she told me softly.
I glared up at Nat, who shrugged her shoulders before speaking. ‘I’m sorry, babe. It’s just that Jas knows what to do – she’s got a friend who’s been through it.’
‘But I told you not to tell anyone,’ I said, resigned to the fact that it made no difference if Jasmine was in on my secret or not. Either way, I was in big trouble.
‘I’m sorry – I just wanted to get someone else’s opinion,’ Nat told me.
This time I shrugged my shoulders. I realized that Nat, despite her big-woman act, was just the same as me really. A teenager. Neither of us knew it all and if anything I was the one who was having to do the real growing up.
‘I’m not going to tell anyone, Rani,’ said Jasmine, squeezing my hand.
‘I know . . . it’s OK. Really.’
‘Well then – we might as well get this over with,’ said Jasmine, standing up.
Nat pulled the pregnancy test kit from under the covers and handed it to Jasmine, who read the instructions too. Then she turned to me and smiled kindly as my mind began to wander and I looked into her eyes, which were, depending on which day of the week you looked at them, either green, brown, grey or a combination of all three. I was trying to think of anything but the test. I would have given anything to wake up and find that this had all been a nightmare.
‘And you haven’t been for a wee this morning, right?’
‘Yeah – Nat told me not to.’
‘Good. Now here’s what you have to do . . .’
As she explained, I sat there thinking about the last-cigarette cliché that I’d seen in so many films where someone was about to be executed, and wondered if you could smoke one in two minutes. Not that I’d ever been near one. Jasmine was talking about blue lines appearing or not appearing on the strip after the two minutes were over but I wasn’t really listening. I was over by the window by then, looking out into Nat’s mum’s garden, with its hanging baskets, ivy and a blaze of summer flowers, thinking about Sukh and Divy and my dad. Wondering what I was going to do. My life had been like a wonderful pathway, with flowers and trees lining it. I had been walking it hand in hand with Sukh and Natalie and . . . and now I had reached a dead end and there was nothing that I could see to get me through. No way around the barrier to continue walking along the path. Doors were closing one by one, slamming shut on all my options, all my dreams.
I tuned back into reality, took the kit from Jasmine and went to the bathroom. I left the door unlocked and carried out the test, starting the timer on my mobile and waiting for two minutes. I sat on the loo looking at the seconds ticking away, edging me towards my fate. There were thirty seconds to go when I ran back into Nat’s room, in tears. I got into her bed, pulling the covers around me, even though it was a hot and humid day. Nat asked me if I wanted her to check the strip for me and I nodded my head. She got up and went to get it.
On her return she showed the test to Jasmine, who looked at it, shrugged and then came over and kissed me on the forehead. She didn’t have to tell me that it was positive. I already knew that it would be. I wasn’t stupid – just scared and unwilling to let the truth intrude on my life. Jasmine stroked my hair and then looked at Nat, who came over and got into the bed next to me.
‘We could sort out an appointment for you at a clinic,’ said Jasmine. ‘D’you want me to get the info for you or even give them a call?’
I didn’t reply. I just lay there and hugged myself, nodding through the flood of tears.
‘It’ll be OK, Rani,’ Nat told me, putting her arms around me too. ‘I promise. I’ll look after you . . .’
Jasmine kissed me on the cheek, stroked my forehead and stood up. ‘I won’t be long,’ she said. ‘I’ll have to pop back to mine and then I can get something sorted out.’
‘OK,’ replied Nat.
‘Shall I tell Mum?’ asked Jasmine, looking at her sister.
‘What does it matter?’ I croaked through tears.
She leaned in and kissed me again and then walked out of the room. I turned to face Nat and spoke through my tears once more.
‘I’m going to get killed,’ I told her.
‘Ssh, Rani. No one’s going to kill you. They’ll have to kill me first.’
‘You don’t understand . . .’ I wailed, but she just shushed me again.
‘Let them try,’ she replied.
I spent the rest of the day there, throwing up four times and trying to decide what I was going to do. When I was going to tell Sukh. If I was going to tell him. In the end Natalie persuaded me to wait until I felt stronger. I rang my dad and told him that I was going to stay at Natalie’s for the night –we had got back late and I was tired. He spoke to Nat’s mum and then told me that it was all right, that he’d speak to me in the morning. He sounded as though he was pissed off but I was past caring at that point. If my staying at Nat’s upset him, then he was in for a major shock soon enough anyway.
Sukh sent me five text messages and tried to call me throughout the day but I wasn’t ready to talk to him. Wasn’t ready to tell him that we were in serious trouble. I thought about that path again, the one I had been walking down, and I wanted to pretend that I was still on it, still happy and carefree for just a while longer . . . And I thought about babies and Sukh and life without my family and all kinds of things until I fell asleep, holding onto Nat like she was a life raft in the middle of a stormy sea.
RANI
I RANG SUKH three days later.
‘Hey—’
‘Why haven’t you been taking my calls?’ His tone was flat and emotionless. He was angry and concerned at the same time. But his reaction was exactly what I’d expected. I mean, I had ignored him. What else was I going to get? He was hardly likely to bend over backwards to be nice. I explained that I was feeling sick and that I’d spent the past few days in bed, hardly eating or sleeping at all.
‘You’ve still got that bug?’ he asked in a softer tone.
‘Er . . . yeah, something like that.’
‘Something like what?’
‘Don’t be like that,’ I told him, trying to summon up courage that I didn’t have.
‘Rani – what’s going on?’
‘We need to talk. Today.’
There was a pause for about thirty seconds before he spoke. I didn’t interrupt the silence.
‘Is there something wrong . . . ?’ he asked, his voice quiet.
I knew what was going on in his head. He thought that I was angry. That I was about to dump him. In my mind I could see the hurt look on his face and I wished that I could hold him and kiss him. Tell him that I wasn’t about to
drop him; that I was actually about to turn his whole life upside down. And I didn’t want to. I really didn’t want to . . .
‘No . . . yes. Look there’s something wrong but it’s not what you think, all right?’
‘Then what is it?’ he asked, sounding worried.
‘I just need to see you. Can we meet in town?’
‘Yeah . . . about midday?’
‘Where?’
‘At Parvy’s. She’s here but I think she’s at work—’
‘What’s she doing in Leicester? I thought that . . . ?’
‘She’s back here for a month – mainly for a holiday. That’s what I was trying to call you about.’
‘Oh . . .’
‘She’s helping at the office in Birmingham. I think she said she’d be back at three.’
‘Well, shall we make it eleven then?’
There was another, shorter, pause. ‘Whatever,’ he replied, sounding pissed off.
‘See you there.’
I rang off, lay back on my bed and burst into tears.
Divy pulled up at some traffic lights on London Road and turned to me. ‘Why you always in town?’ he said, looking mildly suspicious.
‘What’s it got to do with you?’ I said, wishing that he would just shut up until he’d dropped me off.
‘You want lifts here and there you better believe it’s my business. I ain’t havin’ no one tell me that my sister is wandering the streets like some dutty white girl.’
I gave him a filthy look. His ‘dirty white girl’ reference was about Natalie and we both knew it.
‘Well . . . ?’ he demanded.
‘I’m going to town to buy some stuff,’ I said, knowing exactly how to stop his interrogation. ‘Girl stuff.’
He pulled away from the lights, flying through a rapidly shrinking gap between a bus and another car. I held onto the dashboard and swore at him. He looked at me and grinned before jumping another set of lights, blowing his horn at a couple of students who he nearly ran over, and then pulling up opposite the railway station.
‘Is this all right for you?’ he asked, turning up the bhangra music that I had made him turn down earlier.
