The Bollywood Breakup Agency

by Naina Gupta

  Chapter Forty-one

  AFTER A WHIRLWIND ROMANCE, V and Jai announced their engagement a few days after Neela and Navin. Soorbhi heard about it first, because Mrs Patel called Mrs Solanki just after dawn to boast about the match. It wasn’t every day that a daughter of hers married an eligible, good looking man with his own lucrative business, Mrs Patel told Neela later. ‘Best everyone hears straight away.’

  The two girls, excited by the turn of events, decided to celebrate in the age old way – some shisha and copious amounts of booze. And, of course, some Indian soap opera.

  Ishika woke up from her coma. Make up and sari still intact, she panicked as she called out for her husband. ‘Navin! Navin where are you?’

  Everyone ran into the room. The real Payal, Lohit and Mummy-ji tried to calm down the distressed, and heavily pregnant, Ishika. She was now calling out for her husband hysterically. They tried to calm her down by saying that Navin was still undergoing an operation.

  ‘Oh, what a relief, I can’t wait for him to get better and be with me. I am sorry to Lohit and Payal for everything that we have done. I promise that when Navin gets back from the operating room we will be a better family. All of us. He will be such a good father for my child.’ She said, rubbing her huge stomach.

  Everyone else stared at each other, visibly uncomfortable and scared, but unable to break the news.

  ‘He looks exactly the same as he does on screen, doesn’t he?’ Neela was thrilled at seeing Navin’s programme in the bar. Even though he had died in the show, he was still on the cast picture that showed up every time there was an ad break, looking deliciously evil, poking his head out from behind his cousin Lohit. Soon, everyone would know that he was hers. It was the perfect revenge; all her detractors would have to eat their nasty words now, wouldn’t they?

  ‘So, Navin’s dad hates you?’ V recapped, after hearing all about the horrendous events, ending with the couple finally gaining the support of Neela’s parents.

  ‘He says that if Navin marries me, the family will disown him.’

  V was shocked. ‘No! That’s terrible. What are you going to do?’

  Neela shrugged. ‘My future husband is a huge star in Mumbai, who cares if we have to live by ourselves, in his luxury penthouse overlooking the ocean?’ She took a drag of the pipe, then continued. ‘Besides, can you imagine me living with that foul little Mr Trivedi?’

  ‘Just think, if only you’d agreed to meet the son in the first place.’

  ‘If only they’d told me the son was a hot TV star in the first place.’ There was no way Neela was going to accept full responsibility. ‘If Mum and Dad had pointed to PAL and said, ‘do you want to marry him?’ then I would have said yes so fast Daadi-ji would be spinning in that recliner.’

  A looming dark figure put a stop to their conversation. ‘Oh God,’ Neela groaned, seeing who it was. He was tall, slim, dressed unfashionably in faded jeans and a loose, long, summer tee with a thermal underneath. And he looked really, really, pissed. In both ways.

  V raised a querying eyebrow.

  ‘V, this is Hiten.’

  ‘Forget the introductions, you bitch. I know what you did.’

  ‘Which is?’ V asked, thinking he was yet another guy who Neela had rejected.

  ‘Made me out to be a transvestite and broke off my marriage.’

  ‘You really need to get some new schemes.’ V frowned at her friend.

  Sensing a replay of the bunny boiler episode, Neela edged away from him, one hand on her head. ‘Hey, I was on your side about the money. I was just doing my job.’

  ‘Your job? YOUR JOB?’

  Neela backed further into the booth. ‘I’m sorry, okay?’

  ‘How did you find out it was Neela, anyway?’ V asked, curious.

  ‘This girl, Rupali. I do some work with her fiancé, Girish.’

  ‘God, this is a small community,’ Neela commented to V, who told Hiten to bugger off.

  ‘Girish was engaged to me, and ran off with Rupali. Are you going to believe a man who ditches his fiancée during the engagement ceremony?’

  That stopped him, and Neela grabbed her friend’s hand, gratefully. That Rupali was really causing her problems. Still, if it wasn’t for her, V wouldn’t have Jai, so at least something good came out of the whole nasty episode.

  Hiten made to leave, but then turned back. ‘One way or another, you will pay for what you did. Don’t think you can get away with this sort of thing. Your business doesn’t stand a chance.’

  But the girls ignored him and after two minutes of staring them down, Hiten finally headed for the door to the stairs.

  Another strong alcoholic beverage later, Neela told V she was giving up the business anyway, so Hiten could do his worst.

  ‘Might be a good idea. That porn angle is getting really old.’

  ‘Come on, it worked, didn’t it? You wouldn’t be with Jai without it.’

  ‘No, I suppose not. Jai is such a darling, you know. Insists on paying for the new wedding, seeing as my parents couldn’t really get any money back from the first one.’

  ‘Weddings are expensive,’ Neela agreed. ‘Especially if you do them properly.’

  ‘I feel sorry for Navin already. Speaking of which, when are you planning to get married?’

  ‘Not immediately. My parents want to try to smooth the waters with the Trivedis. There are still hopes for a big wedding.’

  ‘And Navin?’

  ‘He thinks the same. Reckons his dad will calm down if the mother can be convinced that the marriage is a good idea.’

  ‘Have you met her, yet?’

  ‘No, but she’ll love me.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t she?’ V smiled. ‘And what about you? How does it feel to be doing the very thing you hated the thought of? Living as Mr Trivedi’s daughter-in-law.’

  Neela thought about everything that had happened in the last few months: the parked Punto that broke up her relationship with Kiran; the stalking; catching her running after explicit DVDs; the final, awful showdown in her living room. ‘Me? I plan to see as little of him as possible.’

  *

  Hiten Rampal stood outside the The Bazaar, fuming. There was no way that little stuck-up cow was going to get away with ruining his life. To add insult to injury, Priya’s family were suing him for the money he’d spent on helping the poor in India. He’d earned half that money, and they wanted the original contents of the bank account as payment for what they called ‘his evil, disgusting actions’. There must be a way to get Neela back. Must be. Or at least make her pay for what she’d cost him.

  Suddenly, a slender girl in a fashionable short skirt and leather jacket combo flounced up towards the door of the bar. ‘Hi!’ she said. ‘Do I know you?’

  Liking what he saw, and realising that he was, in fact, free to do as he wished, Hiten held out his hand. ‘No, but I’d like to know you.’

  Smiling sweetly, the girl replied, ‘Me too. My name is Hira.’

  *

  ‘Ishika,’ Mummy-ji said, breaking the silence. ‘There is a problem.’

  ‘What’s happened?’ Ishika was panicked. ‘Is it my baby? Oh no, what will Navin say? Oh, why is his surgery taking so long?’

  ‘It isn’t about your baby, Ishika,’ Mummy-ji said, putting her hand on the stricken girl’s shoulder. She looked at the others, as if deciding it was now or never. ‘Navin is still very badly hurt and has to stay with the doctors for a little while longer.’

  ‘I want to see him! I know that when he sees me and the child that I am carrying, it will make him all better.’

  Suddenly the real Payal jumped into the conversation. There had still been no discussion of her immediate absorption into the household, nor any further mention of the death of the lookalike Payal. ‘No Ishika, it is best not to see him - for the sake of your baby.’

  Ishika looked at the real Payal in disgust, and began crying loudly.

  Just as the credits rolled, a bunch of aunties shuffled into th
e kitchen, pointed at the screen and clapping loudly.

  Wow, news travels fast. Neela realised that was probably what her parents were doing up every morning since the engagement was announced, when they went rushing down the stairs at six: preparing for the stream of visitors they’d invited to celebrate Neela’s news.

  Suddenly Daadi-ji walked in, to loud cheers from the overseas’ aunties. According to Soorbhi, she’d been down at her friend’s house, boasting about the match. Sitting down on the chair at the dining table, she smiled at Neela. There was a tear in her right eye from being so happy, she told the room.

  ‘Oh thank God! I have lived long enough to see my granddaughter get married. And to such a wonderful young man. God has answered all my prayers and now I am happy!’ She told everyone that she would have jumped for joy if it wasn’t for the bad arthritic knees, sore back and painful and calloused feet. Instead, well-covered arms were raised and Neela jumped up from the sofa, ran over to her and gave her a huge hug and squeal, just like she used to when she was a kid and Daadi-ji spoilt her with secret gifts of jewellery, sweets and clothes.

  ‘You must bring him over again beti, I want to give him another blessing.’

  Neela assured her that she would, although she suspected Daadi-ji wanted to interrogate him about the plot of PAL, in order to gain favour among the other old people at the club. But Neela didn’t mind. Finally, her family were happy with her, and it was a good feeling.

  Chapter Forty-two

  THE SOLANKIS AND NAVIN sat around the good dining table with the imported aunties, who had spent thirty long minutes taking photos with him on his arrival that afternoon. Worse, they made him do the evil Navin scowl numerous times, while they snapped him with the latest Nikons, no doubt purchased duty-free on the way to England.

  Neela told her mother the aunties were out of line, but Navin met the attention with good humour. ‘I am sick of all the Bollywood rubbish. It‘s nice to spend time with normal people, for once.’

  Unfortunately, things were no better as far as the Trivedis were concerned. Navin had tried to speak to his mother, but his dad had got there first and Neela was sure that he was sparing his future wife’s feelings by simply saying that ‘Mum still needs some convincing’.

  Even Neela’s parents couldn’t shift the immoveable Trivedis, not even when Rishi agreed to pay for the entire wedding and promised, on Neela’s behalf, five grandchildren.

  ‘Hey, don’t I have a say in that?’ Neela objected, when she heard.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Navin interjected. ‘I don’t mind them promising things that are entirely reasonable!’

  And that began a fake slap fight between the couple that only ended when Daadi-ji called out that PAL was due to come on.

  ‘Ooooo,’ the aunties said, clustering in front of the flat screen.

  ‘I may have to ban you from watching this,’ Navin said, only half in jest.

  ‘Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh,’ admonished the aunties, and Neela tried pulled her fiancé onto the floor in front of the telly, and told him resistance was futile. Laughing, and dodging Neela’s hold, Navin walked out of the room and left the women to it.

  The scene cut to a sterile room in the hospital. A doctor walked in and strode over to a body that had been covered up by a hospital blanket. He stood with his back towards the camera and lifted up the part of material that was nearest the head of the body. Shaking his head in disappointment, he quickly covered up the body once more and walked out of the room.

  Approaching a nurse at the reception, who was wearing a white dress and a 60s’ nurses hat and black cardigan, he said, ‘What a shame, the face is almost unrecognisable. Nobody should have to see that.’

  *

  Later, Neela and Navin sat kissing in his Aston, in front of her house. For once, Neela didn’t care who saw what she was up to.

  ‘Just one thing,’ Navin said, pulling away from her lips.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can you explain all the porn?’

  Neela blushed. ‘He told you that.’

  ‘He told me everything. In detail. Numerous times.’

  ‘Oh.’

  He crossed his arms. ‘Soooo?’

  ‘It was for a job. I got them so that this girl could get out of a marriage.’

  ‘I don’t get it?’

  ‘We made it look as if her fiancé was a cross dresser who was interested in men.’

  The look on Navin’s face said it all. But he said it anyway. ‘How could you?’

  ‘It’s my job.’

  A stern look, again one she’d seen many times on PAL, flickered in his eyes. ‘That’s it. No more of this ridiculous breakup business. Once we are married, you give up that line of work. Enough is enough.’

  ‘But–‘

  ‘No buts. No more excuses. Understand?’

  ‘Fine.’ Neela wasn’t that sorry, especially after that scene with Hiten earlier in the week. In fact, the only thing she regretted was giving up on something she was actually becoming good at. Perhaps she’d take a sneaky few jobs, without Navin finding out? It wouldn’t hurt to have a little spare cash of her own, would it? If only to buy her gorgeous husband gifts.

  *

  Jai showed V around the large office near Old Street in Central London.

  ‘This is really impressive,’ she said.

  ‘I’m glad you think so.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I want you to help me run my new venture, a sister company to this one.’

  ‘A sister company? What do you mean?’

  ‘I am planning to expand into advanced call centre technology.’

  V looked around the office. It was large, but every available space was taken up with computers, printers and desks. ‘How? There isn’t any room.’

  ‘Ah, but I know a place with plenty of room.’

  V looked fondly at his handsome face. The more time she spent with Jai, the more she realised that she’d undervalued him as a person. Not only was he extremely clever, he was generous and romantic too. It was a lethal combination and she knew she was falling deeply in love. Who would have thought it could happen to her? ‘So, where is this place that you want me to work?’

  ‘Mumbai.’

  *

  ‘Oooo, it’s PAL.’ Daadi-ji ran for her recliner, Soorbhi settled at her place at the kitchen bench, mumbling about how it wasn’t good to become addicted to these things.

  ‘Well, your son-in-law is starring in it,’ Rishi pointed out, with a grin. ‘Now you actually have a valid reason to like it.’ His wife playfully threw a tea towel at him.

  Neela dragged Navin onto the sofa to watch. He’d been having dinner at their house every night and she couldn’t imagine what it was like not to know him now.

  ‘Do we have to?’ he asked. ‘I do know what happens.’

  ‘Shhhhhhhh,’ admonished the Solanki women.

  ‘Mrs Ramchand?’ The doctor said, walking into the hospital room, towards the bed where the increasingly pregnant Ishika was sitting.

  ‘Yes?’ Ishika asked, pushing herself up a little, eager to hear what the doctor had to say.

  ‘There was a complication with your husband’s surgery. The accident was so severe that ... we were not able to save him.’

  ‘But he is going to be ok, isn’t he?’ Ishika asked, rubbing her stomach. ‘I need him to be a father to his child.’

  ‘I’m really sorry Mrs Ramchand, but your husband has passed away.’

  ‘NO!’ Ishika screamed. Everyone else around her looked visibly distressed. Suddenly, she clutched her belly, yelling that there was a shooting pain in her stomach. The baby was on its way, and everyone was petrified because the doctor had said that labour in a stressed state might be fatal for mother and child.

  The aunties stared at the screen, concerned. ‘Are you still on the show?’ asked the largest of them, wearing a sari decorated with what could only be described as an ‘exploding pineapple’ pattern.

  ‘I’m thinking through
my options,’ Navin told them. ‘They have filmed two endings.’

  ‘What?’ Neela didn’t understand.

  ‘I don’t know if I want to go back to all of that Bollywood pressure. It’s so much nicer here in England.’

  ‘Oh.’ The entire room was disappointed. Neela knew they were thinking the same as her – there was far less cachet in a former soapstar than a current one, when it came to husbands-to-be.

  ‘But what will you do?’ she asked him, as casually as possible, not wanting him to think the only reason she liked him so much was because of PAL. Even though that was partially true.

  He smiled and patted her hand. ‘I have enough money not to work again. So I suppose, I could run a business or something. Can’t be that hard, can it?’

  Suddenly, Neela had visions of Girish’s take-away shop empire. Her dream of living by the beach in Mumbai was fading fast. Something had to be done.

  ‘But wouldn’t it better for us to reconcile with your family in Mumbai? The family here might hate us, but maybe over there, we would have a better chance?’

  ‘Maybe?’ Navin pondered. ‘But I am so sick of that damned show. Doesn’t anyone else think it is the most ridiculous thing ever?’

  ‘NO!’ shouted all the aunties, Daadi-ji, Soorbhi and Neela in unison.

  Chapter Forty-three

  ‘I ONLY SAID YES TO the India thing because I thought you were going. Jai has bought an office in Mumbai, and signed up with a partner. I can’t go there alone. I don’t know anyone.’

  Neela sighed into the phone. In the background, she could hear V tapping on her calculator as she spoke to her friend. Why she bothered, Neela had no idea. Jai had stacks of cash and now, as it turned out, V had a job for life with her future husband.