by Naina Gupta
Cousin Hira might be called upon for a shopping expedition.
Cousin Hira knew everyone.
And told everyone.
Perfect.
Chapter Nineteen
FOR THE NEXT TWO days, Neela had to run interference between her parents and the postman, because she was expecting a delivery of a disgusting DVD and knew that Daadi-ji had a habit of ‘accidentally’ opening mail addressed to others.
That morning, she sat by the window in her room and stared outside so that she could see when Royal Mail came to the door.
As soon as the van pulled up, she ran downstairs, checking that her mum was sitting in the back living room watching, of course, PAL. Soorbhi was staring at the screen, aghast at something ridiculously stupid that was going on.
Neela opened the door and ran outside.
‘Delivery for–‘
‘Yeah that’s me,’ Neela said quickly. ‘Where do I sign?’ she hurriedly signed the machine, thanked the guy, and raced up to her room. Pulling apart the brown cellotape, she found the ‘special male interest’ DVD.
Quickly, she rewrapped it and tip-toed downstairs to sneak off to V’s.
Suddenly there was a voice behind her. ‘Where are you going? It’s dinner soon.’ It was Daadi-ji, standing with a burnt out diva candle and incense on a tray. Obviously she had just finished praying, once again, for Neela’s soul.
‘V’s’ Neela said innocently. Well, that wasn’t a lie.
‘At dinner time? Vhy?’
‘Um, she’s run out of moisturiser. It’s that special one, from Selfridges. I need it myself so I am taking some to her, and bringing it back.’ A rubbish excuse, which was why it might just work.
‘Vhy do you have to be so vain?’ Daadi-ji reached out and touched her cheek. ‘I thank God everyday for my beautiful granddaughter, but all these treatments are not good.’
‘Yes, Daadi-ji,’ Neela said, racing out the door before Soorbhi turned up and asked to see what was in the package in her hand.
Her heart was pounding at the thought of being caught.
‘So how did it go?’ Neela asked, walking into V’s terminally tidy room. She realised that if she wanted a favour from computer-savvy V, she’d have to give her something in return. Luckily, she’d had another idea for V, and was hoping that just mentioning it would appease the tense situation. Plus, the idea Neela had in mind might actually provide respite for Rupali, who would soon be the hot topic of gossip for every Indian in a five-hundred mile radius.
‘How do you think? After everything that I have seen and heard from him, he was on his best behaviour. How am I supposed to convince my parents that he is as disgusting as he is, when he hides most of it from everyone but me?’
‘Maybe he’s just that comfortable with you,’ Neela said sarcastically.
‘Not helping, Neela.’
Neela sat on the edge of V’s bed. ‘I was thinking. I had this idea for Jai–‘
‘I don’t care about Jai, I care about me.’
‘I know, listen. What if we get Girish to fall in love with someone else?’
‘Haven’t you been listening to me? Girish is disgusting. You’d need to find someone remotely attractive. I had a family connection, remember? I’m pretty sure that without the fathers being friendly, my mother would have said ‘no’ to him too.’
‘I might have someone. Someone gorgeous.’
‘Neela, I think all this intrigue is making you stupid. That and all those soaps you watch.’
‘V, please. Trust me. Help me with the DVD cover, and I promise you, Girish will be history. I won’t rest until it is done.’
‘What DVD cover?’
Neela revealed her nasty plan for Rupali. V didn’t say a word for about five minutes.
‘Please?’
Swearing quietly under her breath, V finally agreed. ‘Fine, fine. But if you don’t do something soon, it will be too late. The pre-engagement is nearly set.’
Smiling, Neela held out her phone. ‘I asked Jai for a high resolution photo of him and Rupali. Shall I Bluetooth it to your computer?’
‘I don’t get how you are going to make sure Jai’s mum sees the cover. She could turn up at that stall at anytime.’
‘I think you underestimate the power of my cousin Hira?’
Glancing up from the computer, where she was opening Photoshop, V shot her a querying look.
Neela grinned. ‘Guaranteed to transmit gossip to the involved parties in less than two hours.’
‘I don’t get it?’
‘We get this cover ready, take it to the stall, and then I call Hira and tell her what I saw.’
‘And if the stall owner sells it?’
‘I plan to pay the guy double his usual exorbitant cover price to leave it there until I get back.’
‘What if someone offers more?’
‘V. Trust me. It won’t be seen unless you know where to look for it. The plan is infallible.’
‘I’ve heard that before. Girish and the curry, remember?’
Neela squeezed her friend’s shoulder. ‘I’m improving with age. Trust me, first Rupali, then Girish. I promise.’
‘Yeah, yeah. Trust and promises, you’re all talk, you know.’
Neela pointed at the screen. ‘You’ll see. But for now, it’s time to start surfing porn sights for the perfect shot to stick Rupali’s pretty face on.’
Typing as if the keys were diseased, V tried not to look. Neela, however, was eager to find the perfect pose.
‘That’s it!’
‘That’s disgusting.’
‘Exactly.’
The family stared in anger at Payal. Ishika was the only person with lines that day. The role of the rest of the actors was to look angry and confused, which they did with as much ferocity as possible.
Ishika walked towards the lookalike Payal and confronted her about what was going on. Clearly, Payal had entered the family to dispose of the mother-in-law. It was obvious. Mummy-ji had not suffered any anguish before Payal had entered the house. The imposter Payal tried to deny the allegations, but Ishika insisted it was the truth. Even the doctor agreed that poor Mummy-ji’s illness had been caused by the undue stress of the new family member, namely Payal.
Everyone stared as the one-sided argument unfolded before them. The camera panned across their angry and confused faces. Lohit, Payal’s husband, looked stunned. Why would his new wife do this to him? He had always been close to his mother and Payal knew about this. Had she really returned to him from that supposedly fatal avalanche catastrophe to hurt Mummy-ji? Could it be possible?
The lookalike Payal looked stunned too, but was unable to say anything to defend herself. Ishika continued her monologue: it made sense to lay the blame at the feet of Payal – as soon as the new arrival had entered the house, Mummy-ji had become unwell. She repeated the same point five more times in different ways.
Suddenly Mummy-ji had enough of all the talk, mustered up all of her strength to wake up from her dizzy state, and yelled:
‘PAYAL, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! LOOK AT WHAT YOU HAVE CAUSED!’
‘Neela? Where are you going?’
Neela tore herself away from PAL. ‘What?’
Soorbhi pointed at the car keys. ‘We have a dinner to plan, for Kiran’s family. They will be here in less than four days.’
God, did her mother have to remind her? ‘
Hang on? Perhaps she could score a little petrol money for her business trip. ‘Oh yes. Perhaps you need me to go to Wembley for supplies.’
Her mother smiled widely. ‘See, how marriage is already changing you. Such a nice offer. Wait while I get my list . . .’
After her trip to Wembley, and a rather animated conversation with a shocked DVD stall owner, Neela dialled up Hira, who answered on the second ring. As usual.
‘Yes?’
‘You’ll never believe what I’ve just seen.’
‘Oooo, tell me.’
‘You know that girl, Rupali, who
is marrying Jai? I think our second cousin’s daughter is married to Jai’s mother’s sister’s son.’ Neela made everyone sound obscure enough to make confuse Hira.
‘Um, no.’
‘Well, he is a catch, at least he thinks so. He has his own flat in Bayswater. And his own computer company. And she is gorgeous. But get this . . .’
Moments later, the deed was done. Hira hung up to pass on the news so fast that for a moment, Neela thought she’d dreamt the whole conversation.
Well, let’s see.
Now it was time to wait for the fallout.
*
V sat in the shisha bar by herself, smoking the pineapple flavoured shisha slowly. Neela had told her to be patient, and that she promised there would be someone she could interest Girish in. But Neela hadn’t meet Girish, so couldn’t understand how unlikely a scenario it was that he would attract any woman, let alone one better looking that V.
‘Hi.’ V looked up to see that Jai, Neela’s other client. He plonked himself down next to her.
‘Where’s your friend?’
‘Working on our problems, apparently.’
‘You’re engaged to be married, too, right?’
Nodding, V motioned for the waitress for another vodka and lime. ‘Yep. To quite possibly the foulest guy on earth.’
‘Chubby girls can’t be picky, can they?’ Jai observed her thighs, encased in her grey work skirt, suggestively.
What a rude arsehole. ‘Shut up. At least I have a personality.’
He was taken aback at the insult. ‘Hey, I am very personable.’
‘What, according to yourself? You are so arrogant I reckon you’d keep talking, even to an empty room. A room you’ve emptied with your boring monologues.’
Jai frowned, and run fingers through his perfect coiffure. ‘You think I’m boring?’
‘Um, yes. No girl wants to listen to how great a guy thinks he is.’
‘My hundreds of girlfriends never complain.’
‘Probably because they are too drunk or stupid to speak.’
‘They are not!’
‘They’d have to be, to date you in the first place.’
Before Jai could return the insult, his phone rang. ‘What? Calm down. Huh? No! We’ll go check it out, don’t worry.’
V raised an eyebrow. ‘Trouble?’
There was a huge grin on Jai’s handsome face. ‘I think your friend might have just come through for me.’
‘Oh, right.’ V remembered the DVD cover.
Jai stood up. ‘It’s been, well . . .‘
‘Horrible.’
His handsome face flickered with confusion. ‘Right. Okay. I’ll see you later. Gotta take my family on a road trip to Wembley. You friend is a genius.’
The new drink arrived, and V downed it in one go. Genius? V relived painful memories of Mrs Patel raising her hands in joy at V’s appearance. Right now, she could think of far better descriptions for Neela.
*
It had taken all of two hours for the news to reach Mrs Sharma, Jai’s mother. She had called her son immediately and now, thanks to Jai’s status as owner of his own successful business, they were driving to Wembley in the middle of the day, to check out the merchandise at a particularly unsavoury DVD stall.
‘This is crazy, Mum,’ Jai said, playing along. It hadn’t taken more that the first hysterical phone call from his sister to work out that Neela had finally happened upon a plan that could work. And had the added benefit of making Jai look golden.
‘Your cousin’s sister’s friend’s mother’s aunty says it is here. I need to make sure.’
‘But I love Rupali. I want to marry her,’ Jai lied.
‘Not if it’s true. There will be no marriage to someone so dirty.’
His sister Megha looked across their four-foot-eight mother’s head sadly. ‘Sorry,’ she mouthed. Jai tried to look downcast but it was all he could do to stop himself laughing out loud.
Less than twenty minutes later the Sharmas were standing in the crowded market. ‘What films would you like to see?’ The stall owner of the third DVD stall from the corner, as directed by Hira and passed on via Indian whispers to Jai’s family, approached them quickly.
Taking charge, Jai scanned the stock. It shouldn’t be too hard to find. It probably looked as if it was printed on a home inkjet. Shit. Most of the covers looked as if they were printed on home inkjets. Maybe there was a business opportunity here? He already did online websites, why not DVD covers?
‘Where it is?’ Mrs Sharma flicked through some BBC documentaries. She wasn’t going to find it there.
‘Can I help you with something?’ The stall owner asked again, a semi-toothless grin on his lined, brown face.
They couldn’t very well tell him what they were looking for, so Mrs Sharma just shoved him out of the way and stomped up and down, eyes peeled.
Suddenly, Jai’s sister called out: ‘There!’
There was an extremely busty woman wearing a very sparkly sari blouse, which was too small to encase her assets. She was wearing some very small underwear, and around her were ten topless guys, each with a hand on her. She looked like she was enjoying herself. A lot. And the face of the girl: none other than Rupali!
‘Rupali does Rajasthan, oh, Gods above!’ Jai’s mum was stunned, whilst Jai tried to keep himself from falling to the floor at the hilarity of it. It was obvious the DVD was a fake, her face was a different colour from the rest of her body, and there was no way that her boobs were that big – Jai would notice that.
Megha tried to say as much but his mother was having none of it. There was Rupali’s face superimposed onto another woman’s body, smiling seductively. In Mrs Sharma’s view, Rupali was guilty of something, that was for sure!
Inside was an unlabelled DVD. Jai’s mum couldn’t stop shaking.
‘Oh no.’ A loud wail. ‘It’s true. Rupali was in a dirty filum.’ She began clutching her chest.
‘Let’s go, Mum,’ his sister said, gesturing to Jai to take the other arm as they led the poor woman away. ‘Don’t look at it again.’
The car journey home was equally blissful. ‘You cannot marry that girl,’ Jai was told. ‘She is shameful. Oh, how could her family hide this from us?’
‘No wonder they’d agreed so quickly,’ Megha said, switching alliances now that it was clear Rupali would no longer be her sister-in-law. ‘Someone so beautiful could have anyone. How come she was still available?’
‘Because she was in pornographic filum, that’s why,’ Mrs Sharma cried, almost spitting out the words. ‘That’s why.’
Jai didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.
Neela was a genius. He’d recommend her to all his friends.
And ask her out again, too.
Chapter Twenty
THIS TIME, NEELA SMILED at the sight of the caller ID. She couldn’t believe how well the plan had gone. Soorbhi had spent so long considering the cheap wedding decoration stall that she had been able to witness Jai’s mother sighting the DVD for herself. Better still, once they’d gone, she’d been able to pay off the stall owner and get the fake cover back.
‘You like that?’ The man had asked, licking his lips suggestively and sliding his eyes up and down Neela’s slim frame which was encased that day in a tight black French Connection knitted dress and shiny maroon boots.
‘You want me to scream?’ Neela asked, and which point he slunk away to encourage the purchase of a Bollywood romance triple pack.
‘I can’t talk long,’ said Jai quietly. ‘Just wanted to say thanks. I owe you.’
‘Another 500 quid, if I recall correctly.’
‘Meet me at Bazaar tonight, and I’ll have it for you.’
‘Don’t you want to wait to make sure the breakup takes?’
There was a cough, and some mumbling. ‘Alright, hang on. Sorry, just about to take my family to Rupali’s house. I think it’s safe to say it will take.’
*
Girish and V were sitting
at the local pizza place, where he was itemising the long list of duties that Mrs Patel would be required to do each day in the dismal little house they would live in together with the rest of his family.
‘I do work, you know.’
‘Well, for now, yes.’
‘What about your job in India, the business?’ Surely if the worst happened and she ended up hitched to him, he would be out of the country for most of the year.
‘We sold it.’
‘What?’
‘Got a very good price. So now I am looking for new opportunities.’
Pushing her food away, V wondered if her life was a bad joke. Perhaps people around India were watching this all unfold and laughing at the horror of it. But no, that couldn’t be true – if it was, there was a chance V might escape the clutches of Girish and the other Patels.
‘I thought you could perhaps work with me. After all, I will need an accountant for my new empire here in London, won’t I?’
Still staring at him, with the now familiar sense of nausea punching at her stomach, V decided not to reply.
There was no point. Every time she spoke to Girish, things seemed to get worse.
*
Rupali’s family were shocked to see the future in-laws on their doorstep. Her mother pushed the younger sister towards the kitchen, hissing for her to ‘get the snacks out’, but Jai’s mother announced curtly that ‘food wouldn’t be required’.
‘To what do we owe this great honour?’ Rupali appeared. She had given up work, as it wasn’t necessary now that she was marrying the wealthy Jai.
‘Honour, honour! How dare she speak to me about honour.’ Mrs Sharma turned to her children, who stood in the hall waiting for the fireworks.
‘What has happened?’ Rupali’s father came out from a room to the left in his slippers.