The Bollywood Breakup Agency

by Naina Gupta

  Kiran laughed. Once again, Neela was reminded of a devious PAL character. ‘I think your parents might have something to say about that.’ He turned to Navin. ‘You stay away from my fiancée.’

  Flinching at the word fiancée, Navin replied that he was sorry. Neela wasn’t sure who he was talking to, but there was no opportunity to ask, because a moment later, Navin was gone, walking quickly out of the hall grounds and around the corner, where, presumably, his car was parked.

  Turning, face bright red, Neela marched up to Kiran and punched him directly in the nose. It was a bad shot, but thanks to one of Neela’s many rings, a trickle of blood appeared on his lip.

  ‘I AM NOT GOING TO MARRY A CREEP WITH POLICE CAUTIONS WHO BLACKMAILS WOMEN. UNDERSTAND?’

  ‘You’re making a fool of yourself. And I promise you, we will be married. Your daddy will do anything to save the reputation you have ruined.’

  ‘I couldn’t care less what you think of me.’

  Kiran was laughing and looking over her shoulder. Turning, Neela saw someone standing nearby, car keys in hand. Someone familiar.

  Oh great.

  Pulled her bag onto her shoulder, Neela scowled at the ubiquitous Mr Trivedi, and promptly left V’s defunct engagement to find a cab and a bar, and get drunk.

  Much later that night, V and Neela were respectively drowning sorrows and celebrating over a shisha pipe at Bazaar.

  ‘You okay?’ V asked. She hadn’t stopped smiling since she’d rushed down the stairs of the bar. Neela had never seen her friend look so glowing.

  In spite of her success regarding Girish, Neela felt ill. This was it. No way would Navin take her back this time. Especially after the whole world knew that she wasn’t ‘a good girl’.

  And Mr Trivedi must have loved the spectacle. God, maybe he even orchestrated it. Gave out leaflets in the streets of Wembley: Come and See Neela Solanki embarrass herself. Satisfaction guaranteed. Why else would Navin turn up to V’s wedding? Must have heard from a friend’s friend’s relative.

  Having run off home before Soorbhi and Rishi could find her and lock her in the cellar for humiliating them, Neela was conscious of the fact that there was a huge altercation with her parents on the horizon. It didn’t matter what they said, though. No way was Kiran winning this.

  ‘You okay?’ V passed the pipe. It was pineapple.

  The girls looked at each other. V reached over, and in spite of the elaborate makeup she was still wearing, gave Neela a huge hug. ‘You came through for me.’

  ‘Better late than never.’ Neela said, breathlessly. She had known Girish couldn’t resist Rupali, even the larger, less groomed version of Rupali.

  ‘So who was that amazingly cute guy arguing with you at the wedding? He looks really familiar, but I can’t quite place where I’ve seen him.’

  ‘You know that show PAL . . .’ Neela didn’t have to say more. Recognition lit up V’s face.

  ‘Wow, were you and he . . . ?’

  ‘Sort of. But that’s all over now, isn’t it? Thanks to Kiran.’

  ‘So, so hot.’ V commented, raising her eyes to the ceiling in contemplation.

  Neela took a swig of vodka and lime. ‘Tell me about it.

  Then Jai slid into the booth with them. Was every man they knew waiting in line to harass them that night?

  V groaned loudly. ‘Not you again! Are you still stalking Neela? She’s got enough troubles, without that.’

  ‘I might be stalking you,’ Jai said, blushing, Then he recovered by adding a sarcastic ‘nice sari’, directed at Neela, who hadn’t be able to change, for fear of being murdered by her parents if she ventured home before Rishi had time to calm down.

  ‘And how come are you so dressed up?’ Neela replied, observing Jai’s tight suit and bright tie. ‘I’ve been at an engagement, what’s your excuse?’

  ‘Oh, no reason,’ he mumbled, turning red again.

  Why was Jai acting so strange – it was as if he’d lost the art of being sleazy and cocky. Having had enough intrigue for one day, Neela suddenly felt ill. The thought of losing Navin was too much, and looking at the overly groomed Jai just reminded her of the enormity of the loss. ‘I think I need to lie down. You guys have a drink on me.’ She threw twenty quid on the table.

  V looked panicked, and edged further from Jai. ‘Why? I should come with you if you’re sick.’

  But Jai ran his hand through his shock of dark hair and dragged Neela out of the booth. ‘She’ll be fine. Neela Solanki is a top business woman, remember. That Girish was one tough assignment.’

  ‘How do you know?’ V asked crossly.

  ‘Yes,’ Neela said. ‘How?’

  There was a pause, then Jai said he’d heard V and Neela talking about him, the first time they’d met. ‘How did you get rid of him, then?’

  ‘Sorry, client and marriage de-arranger confidentiality,’ Neela said, waving as she walked off. One day, she would tell Jai why Girish left V, but for now, she was content to let him think Rupali was still suffering the loss of him.

  Arrogant toad.

  Chapter T hirty-six

  Ishika screamed at the two fighting husbands: ‘DO NOT KILL HIM, I CANNOT ALLOW MY UNBORN CHILD TO GROW UP WITHOUT A FATHER!’ Tears were streaming through thick make-up. Suddenly her pretty face contorted and with eyes rolling, she yelped that she felt something shooting through her incredibly flat stomach. As Ishika winced in pain, Lohit continued to kick Navin, so no-one saw her distress and she had to suffer alone for a few minutes. Luckily, the pain seemed to abate just as Mummy-ji and Payal turned to look at her.

  AS IF IN KEEPING WITH the theme on PAL, Rishi walked through the door, and, seeing Neela for the first time since the engagement, immediately began screaming.

  ‘You will marry Kiran; you will not continue to shame this family.’

  ‘But Daddy,’ she started. Rishi wasn’t having any excuses.

  ‘But Daddy nothing. That is my final word.’

  Fed up with the entire marriage debacle, and mourning the lost love of Navin, Neela told him her final word was that she simply wasn’t. ‘The family would just have to deal with it.’

  ‘I don’t believe what I am hearing,’ Rishi said to Soorbhi, who, despite the seriousness of Neela’s bad behaviour, still had one eye on PAL. Noticing, Rishi stormed over and pulled the switch to the TV.

  ‘This is all your fault,’ Neela told him, getting up from the sofa, annoyed at being interrupted in her bi-daily dose of Navin ogling.

  Navin. She’d left him five voicemails before giving up. All featured the line: ‘It’s not how it looks’. No answer, unsurprisingly.

  ‘My fault? How is this my fault?’

  ‘You tried to marry me off to a bunch of freaks, culminating in the Trivedi abomination. So I lied and said I wanted Kiran, because I thought you would–‘

  ‘Why have the Gods deserted me? All I ask now is to be spared some shame with a quick, painless death.’ Daadi-ji began from her recliner. In the absence of PAL, she was all ears.

  ‘You are our daughter and you will do as we say, or else.’

  ‘Or else what? I can support myself now, you know.’ As soon as she said it, Neela realised it was a major mistake. Daadi-ji’s health couldn’t take hearing about Neela’s business.

  ‘With a degree that has been no use to you since you graduated? With no experience? How will you do that?’ Rishi demanded. ‘Now, if you’d done pharmacy as we’d hoped–‘

  ‘I’d be bored and wearing beige in some chain store. A glorified check-out chick. You don’t own me.’

  Soorbhi shook her head. ‘No, we don’t. So off you go then. Go make your way in the world. Let’s see how far you get.’

  Tears began streaming down her cheeks, and Neela waited for someone to take the threat back, or dull it down, as they always did.

  But they didn’t.

  ‘You can have the car,’ Rishi told her. ‘But the insurance and road tax run out at the end of the month, so you’ll have to pa
y those, since you can support yourself, as you just said.’

  Still unable to comprehend, but unwilling to stay and sort it out, Neela stood, and barely holding herself together, took up her bag and coat and raced out the front door.

  *

  Jai was shopping for a gift for his beloved when he came across Navin on Oxford Street.

  ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Didn’t I see you in the car park with Neela Solanki at Vidya Patel’s engagement the other night?’

  The guy blinked a couple of times. ‘Unfortunately, yes.’

  ‘Some show, huh? That Girish is a lunatic, ditching Vidya.’

  ‘There seemed to be quite a deal of lunacy going on that night.’

  ‘That’s for sure. I didn’t expect that weirdo she was dating to still be hanging around.’

  ‘Neither did I, trust me.’

  Hmm. So Neela and this guy were an item? A marked improvement on that Kiran, for sure.

  ‘There’s something about the Kiran that isn’t right, you know. Neela shouldn’t be anywhere near him. I would have told her before, but she is so strong, and bloody brilliant at her business, I just figured she had it all under control.’

  ‘Told her what?’ Navin asked, suddenly interested.

  Thinking way back to a few weeks ago, Jai recalled the conversation with Kiran, and wondered if he could help Neela out.

  Plus, there might be something in it for Jai. After all, she was the very person who could help him win his love, wasn’t she? The other night with V was still foremost in his mind – how she’d looked in the intricate and precise wedding makeup; her brusque manner that he found so attractive; her perfect voluptuous figure . . . It was a shame she seemed to harbour actual hate for him. Sure, loads of girls hated him, but usually after he dated them, then never called.

  ‘Look, I’ve got to go, so . . .’ Navin said, eyeing him strangely. He made as if to move away.

  ‘If I tell you, you have to promise to tell Neela where you got the info.’ Jai said.

  Navin turned back. Jai noticed he was wearing the pricey CK Collection jacket he himself had coveted the other day at House of Fraser. ‘Okay, sure. If I see her again, that is.’

  Excellent. ‘You know that Kiran, the guy she is supposed to be engaged to, is a scam artist, don’t you?’

  ‘What?’ Navin looked Jai up and down, and Jai, for the first time in his life, and the second in the past ten minutes, was jealous of another man. How did he get his hair to look so floppy but styled at the same time? ‘And you know this how?’

  ‘Horse’s mouth, my friend. He didn’t know I knew her. Told me he was going to shame her by ditching her at the altar.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I know, evil, right. And just yesterday, her best friend V told me Neela only told her parents she was with Kiran so that they would stop trying to set her up with losers. So the poor girl is stuck on a speeding train that is going to crash straight into a family humiliation. And the family are insisting on the match now because they have been, um, boyfriend and girlfriend for years.’

  Jai was proud of his analogy, even if Navin was looking at him as if he was weird.

  ‘She doesn’t love him?’

  ‘I think extreme hatred would be closer to the truth. What do you do, anyway, to be able to afford that jacket?’

  Navin shrugged. ‘I’m an actor. Someone gave it to me.’

  ‘An actor, huh? Are you famous?’

  ‘Do you know me?’

  ‘Well, no, but–‘

  ‘Then I can’t be, can I?’

  ‘Suppose not.’

  Navin held out his hand. ‘Thanks for the information, I appreciate it.’

  ‘Don’t forget, tell Neela that Jai Sharma told you.’

  ‘Will do.’

  The two men shook, and Jai turned on his heel, happy he had taken steps to hopefully secure at least one dinner with the only woman in London who refused to date him.

  *

  V was revelling in the attention from her family, who by now had discovered that Rupali was the ‘other woman’. ‘How can you compete with someone who stars in those types of films?’ Mrs Patel asked her daughter sadly. ‘That slut stole your husband.’

  ‘I heard he approached her, Mum. That makes him the slut, doesn’t it?’ V still felt sorry for her part in Rupali’s downfall, so felt the least she could do was throw some mud in Girish’s direction.

  Her mother and two grandmothers sucked in their breath. ‘Nooooo!’

  And with that, Girish’s name was mud to such an extent that V began to feel a little guilty. Apparently he and Rupali were marrying in a quiet, low key ceremony and leaving for Leicester in the next month. It was a permanent move, where their story could be a rumour, instead of a live drama that everyone could witness.

  ‘Now, beti,’ Mrs Patel said. ‘We need to find you someone new.’

  This time, V had the good sense to shake her head. ‘No, Mum. Not now. I think I quite like being single.’

  The grannies slithered their eyes over V in horror. ‘No grandchildren?’

  Smiling, V reached out and patted a liver spotted arm with each of her hands. ‘Just not now. Don’t worry.’

  *

  Sitting in her car, Neela realised it was 8:00 p.m. and she had absolutely nowhere to go. She could try V’s, but she had a sneaky suspicion that Mrs Patel sort of blamed her for the whole Girish thing. Actually, it was more than a suspicion. Mrs Patel had told V that Neela had probably affected V’s mind, which was why she seemed so happy to be ditched in front of everyone. Apparently, Neela’s reputation as a whore who slept with men and refused to marry them was already made, even though Kiran had only, at that point, been spreading the gossip for less than a day.

  She was homeless. Luckily, she had a full tank of petrol and some business cash in her bank account, so she wasn’t destitute. But £2,230 didn’t go far when you needed to rent a flat, pay a bond and connect the gas and and electric etc. Sure, she could get some new clients, but without a place to sleep, she couldn’t imagine how she was going to manage it.

  Thumping her head down on the leather steering wheel of her bright red Mini, Neela let the tears come. How had it gone so wrong? A few months ago, she had the world at her feet: money, looks, and a cute, trouble-free boyfriend. Now, she had lost everything, including the one man she actually wanted to marry.

  The look on Navin’s face when Kiran had said those words! Crying even more loudly, Neela felt that her heart was breaking. What would become of her now?

  Suddenly, there was a knock on the passenger door of the car.

  Surprised, Neela jumped up, banging her nose on the wheel. ‘Ouch!’ Looking to her left, she expected to see Soorbhi or Daadi-ji begging her to come back inside – they had always relented before.

  But no. It was someone entirely unexpected.

  It was Navin.

  Chapter T hirty-seven

  ‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING here?’ Neela knew she must look horrible. He had probably been having second thoughts, when he saw the change in her appearance: no makeup, tracksuit bottoms, unkempt hair. The Bollywood hottie would be racing back to his Aston so fast the neighbours would think a mini tornado had hit Harrow.

  ‘I think I made a mistake.’ Navin was yelling thought the glass of the car window. ‘Can you let me in?’

  Panicking, Neela shook her head. There was a load of garlic in that paneer roll she’d had at Bazaar, and she’d left the house without brushing her teeth. It must reek in here.

  ‘Can’t we meet later?’

  The incredibly deep brown eyes met hers. ‘Come on, please. We need to talk.’

  God, he wasn’t going to leave, was he? Pressing the button to unlock the doors, Neela searched desperately for a mint or chewing gum, but no luck.

  He looked unbelievable, as usual.

  ‘Is that Calvin Kline?’

  ‘You know, you’re the second person to comment on this jacket since lunchtime.’

  ‘It’s a
nice jacket,’ Neela said, although she couldn’t figure out why. Good plan, Neela. Make yourself out to be a moron.

  ‘Actually, I know the truth about Kiran.’ Those amazing huge eyes were much closer now, and Neela felt her tummy leap. Was she dreaming an episode of PAL?

  ‘Really?’

  ‘About how you don’t love him. And how he had planned to shame you at the altar.’

  ‘HE WHAT!’ Thoughts of dreams forgotten, Neela began fuming. Wait until she got her hands on that snivelly little chartered accountant-to-be.

  The Bollywood star smiled, and ran a hand over her wild hair. ‘So, it seems I’ve saved you from more public humiliation.’

  Despite the romantic gesture, Neela still couldn’t believe what she had just heard. ‘I swear, that Kiran is going to pay for this. I’m going to strangle him with my bare hands.’

  ‘Really?’ Navin leaned in closer.

  ‘I am going to make sure everyone knows what a ratbag he is. He is going to have to move to the Arctic to escape the gossip.’

  Navin was kissing her ear now. ‘I hear it’s nice this time of year,’ he murmured.

  Then it dawned on Neela. ‘This means my parents will take me back! I haven’t shamed them.’

  ‘Well, I’ll certainly vouch for my wife-to-be.’

  Those words finally stopped Neela obsessing about Kiran. ‘What did you just say?’

  ‘Will you marry me, Neela Solanki?’

  She shook her head, making sure this wasn’t a dream. Navin, sexy hot Navin, was asking her to marry him? After all the set-ups, all the proposals, finally, she had found love. Except . . . looking around her – at the messy car, her crumpled clothes, the dirty Harrow street, Neela frowned.

  ‘No.’

  ‘WHAT!’ Navin pulled away in shock. Obviously Neela rejecting the hottest man in Bollywood wasn’t something he’d planned on.

  She smiled and ran a hand down his cheek. ‘You can’t ask me like this. Here. With my hair and makeup not done.’