I saw a bottle of water appear under my nose but ignored it.
‘Okay,’ he added.
That was how we sat for a while until it got a bit ridiculous. I snatched my bag and made to walk home.
‘Wait,’ he said.
I stopped.
‘Sit back down. Please.’
I did, because like I said, I was too angry to argue, but it’s not as if I wanted to hear what he had to say. Forget Annabelle. He’s the reason Fatti had run off somewhere.
‘What are you even doing here?’ I said.
‘I was worried about you,’ he said.
‘Why?’ I asked, looking at him for his ulterior motive. As if anybody ever actually worries about me. Not that I care, obviously.
‘Because my sister worries about you.’
‘Your sister?’ I said.
That was rich, wasn’t it? Talk about jumping on the Fatti bandwagon.
‘She is my sister,’ he replied, calmly. ‘We have the same blood; the same parents.’
‘Blood doesn’t make you family.’
He smiled and looked at the grass peppered with daisies. ‘But it makes you something. It creates a bond, yes?’
I shrugged. Whatever.
‘Things aren’t going so well at school?’
I shrugged again.
‘Mae, come on, you can put this sullen teenage act on, but you’re better than that. You’re a bright person – talk to me as if I understand that.’
I just wanted to storm off and shout: What the hell do you know about anything! Because it can take a lot out of you; being all whatever. More energy than people can guess.
‘It was nothing. It was my first day back, and turns out my school is full of ignoramuses,’ I said.
He looked confused.
‘Stupid people,’ I said.
‘Ah, yes, yes. Students are never easy.’
He paused as we both looked at some children running around in the distance, playing with a Frisbee.
‘Listen,’ he continued. ‘I’m sorry the way things happened. I didn’t think she’d run away like that.’
‘It’s like, you could’ve given her some warning. Or Mum and Dad some warning,’ I said. ‘A hospital room where our brother-in-law’s lying in a coma isn’t exactly the best place to be all: Yeah, by the way, let’s tell everyone the truth about who’s really in the picture. Oh, and look. You’re adopted.’
‘I know, I know. But it was so frustrating for me. The truth is, I’d only found out about Fatima days before the accident.’
I looked at him. ‘Really?’
In all the mental-ness of comas, adoption and running away, I realised we didn’t actually know about how Malik knew. It was pretty obvious Mustafa wouldn’t have known because there’s no way he’d have kept it from Farah. Though, given he lied about other things, who knows?
‘Really,’ he replied. He blew out a puff of air as he shook his head. ‘I was very angry with my parents. When I told my brothers in Bangladesh they were surprised and asked about it but weren’t angry like me. But then I’d always wanted a sister.’ He nudged me as he added: ‘I was always jealous of your brother Jay for having four. Anyway, I’d tried to get hold of Mustafa but he was busy, not happy with me because I couldn’t lend him money he’d asked for, and he kept saying he’d call me back. When we got the call from your parents, after the shock of finding out about Mustafa’s coma, I thought maybe this was fate. Maybe my brother’s accident is a way for me to finally meet my sister.’ He rested his arm on the back of the bench and looked at me.
‘What did your parents say?’
He paused. ‘I don’t think now’s the time to talk about that.’
‘Malik … oops, sorry. Malik Baia, of course – I think we all know there’s never a right time for anything.’
He smiled and looked at me like you might look at a puppy. Fondly. It was annoying but not so annoying that I wanted to tell him to go and do one.
When he didn’t speak I said: ‘So tell me what you said to them.’
He considered it for a moment. ‘You know your amma couldn’t have babies?’
I nodded. ‘Crazy, isn’t it? Considering what came after.’
‘I didn’t think it was a good enough reason,’ he replied. ‘Passing around a baby like this, without thinking about the consequences. Maybe if it hadn’t been done in the family it would’ve been more understandable.’
‘How?’ I asked. ‘Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I think it was a genius idea, but don’t you think if you’re going to adopt a baby it’s better if it belongs to someone you know rather than, like, a complete stranger?’
‘Don’t you English people have the saying: too close to home?’
I nodded, thinking about this. ‘I suppose. So,’ I added, ‘your parents didn’t say much?’
I wanted to know what they thought, how they felt.
He paused before answering. ‘You’ll find out in life that people disappoint you in a hundred different ways, Mae. And don’t be fooled,’ he said, looking at me and raising his eyebrows. ‘You’ll disappoint people just as much. But disappointment in your parents is a pain very different to anything else.’
‘Yeah, I get it,’ I said, nodding. ‘It’s like, they’re the people you want to love the most, but then they can make it the most difficult. I mean, it’s whatever, because you’re going to love them anyway, but you just wish they were more what you wanted them to be. Like, you wish they could see you. Or see themselves,’ I added, taking the bottle of water he’d put down between us.
I took a sip as he nodded. ‘You are wise, Mae. Make sure you remember that.’
I snorted through the water. ‘I’m just a kid. What do I know?’
‘More than a lot of people. I think even you realise that. I hope when you’re older you will have the confidence to know it.’
I screwed the lid back on the water. ‘Thanks. So,’ I said, handing the bottle back to him, ‘do you fancy my sister, Bubblee?’
He got up. ‘Time to go home now, I think.’
‘Who could blame you?’ I replied, putting my bag over my shoulder. ‘She’s hot. I mean, you know as well as I do, Mal Baia, that she’s a handful, but maybe you like that.’
I considered him. Sure, he had that accent, but he was all-right looking – kind of manly with the whole angular feature thing going on.
‘Maybe with time you’ll also learn to not say everything that comes to your mind,’ he said as we walked towards home.
‘I mean, you could try to tame her, but it wouldn’t go down very well; plus, you’d need like a proper thought-out plan for that, which just makes the whole thing creepy. Not to mention oppressive. And she’d see through it in seconds, because let’s face it,’ I said, keeping up with his quick steps, ‘you’re not her favourite person on the planet.’
‘Here, have some more water,’ he said, handing me the bottle. ‘And maybe you can focus your ideas on how to find my sister.’
I shot him a look.
‘Sorry … our sister,’ he said.
‘Aren’t you going to come in?’ I asked when we stopped at the end of my road.
‘I’ll come soon, but for now will stay with my friend.’
‘You can’t ignore my parents for ever, you know.’
He smiled. ‘I know, little Mae, but let’s all take one step at a time.’
‘All right. Can we begin with you not calling me little Mae? It’s weird.’
‘Oh,’ he said, looking embarrassed.
‘Don’t worry, Mal Baia. You’ll get used to being around lots of women. One day.’
*
When I got home I went straight to my room. No-one was home anyway. Not having my phone was like missing a limb or something. I got all fidgety and I’d reach out for something, only I’d realise what I was reaching out for wasn’t there.
I opened up my laptop and went into my video file. There were tens of hours of videos on this thing. I flicked back t
o the video, right before Mustafa’s accident and the day Fatti failed her twenty thousandth driving test. I laughed at her eyes shifting around as she’s trying to make sure no-one sees her squirt cheese into her mouth. There’s another bit with Mum and Dad looking at her; Mum’s laughing and Dad … I zoom into his face. He’s not exactly a laugher, but there’s this sparkle in his eyes. I forwarded a bit to where I come into the shot because I’ve let the camera rest on the mantelpiece and Dad’s explaining a bit of maths homework to me. There’s Farah, kissing him on the top of his head before she ruffles my hair. Another clip and Bubblee’s in the room, frowning while Fatti and me are trying to suppress laughing at her. Then there’s the bit where we’re all in hospital – everyone’s face as grey as the hospital walls. I look at the time on the video. We all sat in the same place for five hours. I don’t even think we said much to each other. Just Dad bringing in tea for everyone; Mum counting her rosary beads; Bubblee probably texting her friend, Sasha. Mum leans into Dad’s ear and he looks over at Bubblee and nods while Mum seems to say a prayer and looks up at, I reckon, God.
‘Mae,’ comes Fatti’s voice. ‘Put the camera away. Now’s not the time.’
I smile at her serious tone. As I jump from clip to clip there aren’t that many moments that I’m alone – that Mum isn’t asking about Farah, or Bubblee isn’t wondering about Dad, or Farah isn’t mentioning Jay, and I’m not being sent from one person to the next. There’s Malik, taking over tea duties. As if he doesn’t fancy Bubblee, the amount he looks over at her. This weird feeling fleeted in my chest. It’s not the best, always being told where to go or what to do, but then, looking at these clips and frames, zooming in and out of their changing faces, at least I know I always will have somewhere to go and something to do.
That’s when I opened my Gmail tab and emailed Fatti.
*
I hadn’t expected her to write back that quick, so when I saw her name pop up on-screen, I almost leapt at my laptop.
From: Amir, Fatima
To: Amir, Mae
Subject: Re: Where are you?
All right. Let’s meet.
I breathed an internal sigh of relief, but after the initial relief, I thought: she could’ve written more. I’d asked how she was, where she was, what she was thinking. I told her what’s going on at the house and that everyone’s worried about her, but no response to that. Maybe she didn’t care any more? I let her know that I didn’t have my phone, but that I’d see her at the park the following day, after school. Whether I’d make it through school was something else.
After my chat with Malik in the park, I went back into school completely prepared to apologise to that sorry excuse for a human, Anabelle, for, you know, ripping her hair out. I didn’t see her until she pushed past me so hard I fell on my knees in the middle of the corridor. Everyone laughed as I tried to pick myself up, but I stumbled because I think I did something to my knee as I fell.
‘Where you belong,’ she sniped as she turned around and gave a disgusted look.
So, I decided I’d apologise to her when hell froze over, which according to Mum, is never going to happen. It was pathetic, really. I hoped Sarah or Anne or Sanjay would be around somewhere to help me out. But no – people just stood around snickering, not even offering a hand. It was humiliating, and for I think the first time in my life, I felt lonely – as if there was nothing to protect me or help me, and I missed Fatti so much, I couldn’t wait to see her. It was the only thing that got me through the day.
I rushed to the park after school and waited at the benches near the swings, just like we’d agreed. Fifteen minutes passed. Then another ten. Before I knew it I’d been waiting for forty-five minutes. It wasn’t like her not to turn up when she promised. Not if she promised me, anyway. Was I no longer her sister just because we didn’t have the same parents? I had to hold back the tears that stung my eyes because I’d have expected it from anyone but Fatti. I’d been waiting a full hour as I looked around for her again and I began to realise that maybe she wouldn’t come after all, and that I wasn’t sure when I’d see her again. But when I stood up, there she was, fiddling with her hands near the sycamore tree, gazing at me.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ she said, when I walked up to her.
I wasn’t sure whether to hug her. We’re not really the hugging type in our family – but then these weren’t normal circumstances, and I was so relieved to see her I wanted to just wrap my arms around her. Just so she knew she was still my sister, and just so I could see if she felt the same way. She folded her arms.
‘I was about to leave,’ I replied. ‘I should’ve known you wouldn’t stand me up.’
When she didn’t speak I asked where she’d been staying.
‘At a friend’s.’
‘What friend?’ I said, sounding more unconvinced than I’d meant to.
‘I do have friends,’ she said, reddening.
‘Yeah, yeah. Just wondered. That’s all.’
There was no point in making her feel crappier than she already did.
‘Listen,’ I said, matter-of-factly, because, let’s be honest, Fatti and me never have done emotional, ‘when are you coming home? Mum and Dad are going berserk, Farah’s losing the plot and Bubblee’s even more annoying than usual.’
‘What do you mean, “losing the plot”?’ she asked.
‘You know. Like, mental. Shouting at Mustafa when he can’t hear a word and going off on one about selling his organs and making a korma out of them.’
‘Farah? Shouting?’
‘Exactly,’ I responded.
‘What do you mean, selling his organs?’ she asked.
I recreated the scene at the hospital for Fatti, who looked at me in shock.
‘Properly crazy,’ I summed up.
‘Don’t say crazy,’ she said. ‘She’s been through a lot.’
The wind rustled the leaves in the trees. It was a little cold in the shade.
‘Yeah, well – looks like she and Bubblee don’t hate each other as much, at least,’ I said.
‘Really?’ she asked as she smiled.
I nodded. ‘So have you thought about it then? Coming home?’ I said.
She looked at the ground. I wondered if she was crying but when she looked up she didn’t even look upset.
‘I can’t come home,’ she said.
I folded my arms. ‘What do you mean?’
She looked around the park, up at the sky, lost in some thought. ‘It’s not … it’s not really home is it?’
What was she talking about?
‘Of course it’s home, you idiot. What else is the place where you’ve lived and grown up?’ I said.
‘Idiot?’ she said.
‘What, now you’re going to act all older sister on me?’
She started wringing her hands. As she slouched, I noticed her stomach bulge and I suddenly thought of that Annabelle. It made me want to pull out the rest of the hair on her head.
‘Look, come home and Mum and Dad will explain everything. It was all mental and they know they should’ve told you but they made a mistake. People make mistakes, don’t they?’
She shrugged.
‘You know that Mum couldn’t have babies?’ I said.
She looked at me – clearly it hadn’t occurred to her before.
‘But she had all of you afterwards?’
‘Yeah, Dad said you were the miracle that made us possible.’
Her features softened then, her eyes becoming watery with tears.
‘So I was given up to her?’
I nodded.
‘I don’t know how someone could do that,’ she said, looking at the ground.
I realised that she didn’t know that Farah couldn’t have babies. It seemed like the right time to tell her, so I did. She looked so mortified at the fact that it was as if someone had told her she couldn’t have babies.
‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘That’s … that’s awful.’
‘I know,’ I replied.
She looked out into space. ‘All this time she was hiding it from everyone. And I …’
‘What?’
She shook her head. ‘Nothing. Just that I thought she had it all.’
We sat in silence for a while before I said: ‘What are you going to do then?’
When she didn’t reply I couldn’t help but get annoyed.
‘Say something then,’ I said.
Maybe I should’ve been nicer to her but everything was making me angry. She needed to see the videos I’d taken, she had to see that it didn’t matter if she was adopted or not.
‘I’ve got something to show you when you come home. You’ll see for yourself,’ I said.
‘Mae,’ she said. ‘I’m not coming home.’
‘What do you mean not coming home?’ I asked. ‘Where else are can you go?’
‘I’m going to Bangladesh,’ she replied.
‘What? Bangladesh? As in the country?’
Then she explained that she’d already booked her tickets and was going home to see the people that had given birth to her.
‘To meet my family,’ she added.
‘Family? Just because you share DNA? And what are we? Chopped liver?’
‘You don’t get it, Mae. I always felt like the odd one out, and now I finally understand why. It’s a relief. For so many years I thought there was something wrong with me, but actually, it was because I wasn’t in the right place. I never did belong here.’
‘Right,’ I said. ‘So you belong in a place you haven’t visited for, like, twenty-five years, with people who you don’t know from Adam?’
‘I don’t expect you to understand.’
I didn’t understand. It’s not as if I didn’t get that the whole thing was a shock and that she should be angry. Of course she should be raging. And she should come home and shout at our parents and throw things to show her rage, like a normal person. She shouldn’t get on a plane and look for a new place to belong, though. What about the rest of us? What about me? She was going to leave the people who loved her for these people who’d decided to give her away.
‘No, it all makes perfect sense,’ I said.
‘Mae …’
‘You don’t even have your passport or anything.’
The Secret Lives of the Amir Sisters Page 15