“It was very hard to say good-bye but you should know that I have all the love and respect in the world for you. I gave you a hard time while you were organizing this journey but it was only because you were so sure of where we were going while I still had to figure it out. Give my love to Kabir and Anil—they’re lucky to have you back.”
Rajni bit her lip. She went into the duty-free shop and busied herself with perfume samples to keep the tears back but they came anyway, and now she smelled like peonies and musk. She read the text again and pressed reply but before she could compose a message, there was another one from Jezmeen. A picture of three grandmothers with their gray hair in curlers, clinking their full wineglasses. “So much to celebrate soon!” she had written. Rajni laughed and let the tears fall.
Shirina was finally being waved through the Customs counter, and she was walking toward Rajni. A smile bloomed across her face, and she looked more rested than she had been on the entire journey.
“Everything okay?” Rajni asked.
“Yeah, they just wanted to know why I changed my destination,” Shirina said. She tucked her passport back into its case and put it in her handbag.
“What did you tell them?”
“Same thing I told Sehaj on the phone this morning. I just want to go home.”
Epilogue
Shirina had just finished feeding Anaya in the small back room meant for wedding presents, when her Skype ringtone began to sound. Jezmeen was a few minutes early. Shirina adjusted the neckline of her dress, propped Anaya on her lap, and pressed the green answer button.
A ghastly version of Jezmeen appeared on the screen, with a bloody gaping wound on the side of her head. The minute Anaya saw her, she began to shriek. It took a few minutes of jiggling and hushing to calm her down. “Shh,” Shirina said. “It’s your Auntie Jezmeen, calling from India. She’s just wearing makeup, darling. She’s playing.”
Rajni popped her head into the room. “Everything all right?” Her eyes narrowed when she noticed the screen. “Oh, for heaven’s sakes, Jezmeen, why would you scare a baby like that?”
“I didn’t know she was going to see me,” Jezmeen protested. Behind her was a whirl of activity—crew members hurrying by, talking into their mouthpieces, a large camera on a trolley being pushed. Jezmeen’s hair was pulled back and piled high, making the gash on her head even more obvious.
“I’ll take her out to see the ducks,” Rajni said to Shirina. “You two catch up.” Anaya stretched out her arms with gratitude and threw the screen a scowl as Rajni took her away.
“Some warning would have been nice,” Shirina informed Jezmeen. “You look like a murder victim.”
“A murder attempt survivor,” Jezmeen said. “If you’ll remember, at the end of the last season, I was bludgeoned by that Mafia boss who left me for dead in a house he set on fire, but I got rescued at the last minute by the undercover guy.”
“I do remember,” Shirina said. She and Rajni had been on the edge of their seats watching the finale a few months ago. Shirina had trouble sleeping afterward, and left a message with Jezmeen just to confirm that her character would make it. She thought Jezmeen might laugh at her for not knowing the difference between fiction and real life, but in their conversation the next day, Jezmeen was delighted to know that her show was giving viewers nightmares. “It’s the realism of Lawless that’s making it so addictive,” Jezmeen said. “Hari is a genius with that stuff.” This was also the reason the show was being picked up by major networks in the US and the UK.
“How’s the party, then? I’m sorry I’m missing it,” Jezmeen said. After the show’s unprecedented success, shooting of the second season had to begin immediately.
“It’s really nice,” Shirina said. “Kabir and Rajni rented out this lovely restaurant which opens out onto a pond, so there’ll be some great pictures of the bride and groom.”
“How are they? I want to talk to Anil later to convey my congratulations,” Jezmeen said.
“They’re glowing. Davina looks beautiful.” In a simple white summer dress with a lace-trimmed shawl, Davina was an understated bride, but she was radiant. Their three-month-old son, Arjun, was the real show-stealer, wearing a tiny tuxedo romper complete with a red bow tie.
“And how’s the mother-of-the-groom?” Jezmeen asked.
Shirina checked behind her to make sure the door was shut all the way. She lowered her voice. “You missed it. There was almost an incident.”
“Oooh, share,” Jezmeen squealed. Behind her, a hairstylist sprayed something in her hair and walked off.
“Okay, so earlier, they were doing family photos near this big weeping tree outside. Very picturesque, the weather’s cooperating, and then the photographer announces he wants one of just Rajni and Davina together. You know the type of photograph where they say, ‘Just converse with each other. Act natural,’ and you become really self-conscious.”
Jezmeen snorted. “Especially when Rajni’s natural stance toward Davina is probably an icy stare at best.”
“Exactly. He has them standing near the pond and he keeps calling out things for them to talk about—all those memories you’ve shared over the years, how happy you are that this day has arrived—and then it dawns on all of us that he thinks they’re sisters.”
“HA-HA-HA. So what happened?”
“Rajni informs him that she’s actually the mother-of-the-groom, and he starts to backpedal, and tells her it’s a compliment because she looks so young.”
“When really we know it’s because they’re so close in age.”
“Yeah, but then it gets worse, because the photographer decides he wants one with Rajni and her grandchildren.”
Jezmeen let out a hoot. “Children, plural? He thought Anaya was her granddaughter?”
Shirina nodded. “And another child—this toddler who was just feeding the ducks with his parents. He went from thinking Rajni was the sister of the bride to the Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe.”
Jezmeen was convulsing so hard with laughter now that a tendril of her hairdo came loose. The stylist returned to reset it, jabbing more pins into Jezmeen’s hair. “Oh my god. That’s too good, Shirina.”
“If you could have seen it! She launched into this lecture to the photographer about protocols and how he should have read the email she sent him expressly explaining the dynamics of our family. She had drawn up a family tree and everything, so he’d be able to call everybody by name and relation, and avoid the usual chaos of these things.”
“Why am I not there?” Jezmeen sounded genuinely sad then. Shirina had been disappointed too, to hear that Jezmeen was going to spend the summer in India.
“You are here,” Shirina said. “You’ve been here a great deal.” She wasn’t just saying it to comfort her sister—she really had showed up via Skype for every momentous occasion, no matter the time difference or her filming schedule. It even became something that an entertainment journalist picked up on in a recent profile about Jezmeen, which Shirina kept taped to her fridge:
The up-and-coming starlet prioritizes her family, even on days packed with shoots and publicity commitments. During this interview, she tells us that she’s expecting a call from her sister in London, with whom she speaks once a day. But Shergill wouldn’t describe their childhood as being particularly close. “My sisters and I didn’t always get along,” she admits. “But as you get older, you recognize the importance of people you used to take for granted.” Getting older would be another sore point for most actresses, but Shergill takes it in her stride. Breaking into her first major role relatively late compared to other women in Bollywood, Shergill says her previous setbacks gave her the resilience for her role as Manika Kapoor, a female detective fighting corruption in the highest ranks of the police force in HC Kumar’s acclaimed series Lawless.
Shirina savored a different line from that piece every day. She was so incredibly proud of Jezmeen, and so happy that she was finally being recognized. Whenever Anaya caught sight of th
e glossy image of Jezmeen staring boldly at the camera, Shirina pointed and said, “That’s your auntie. She’s fearless.”
There was a knock on the door before Rajni hurried in, toting Anaya on her waist. “Are the nappies in here?” she asked. “I think someone needs a change.”
“I’ll do it—you catch up with Jezmeen,” Shirina said, taking Anaya from her. She breathed in the scent of Anaya’s skin. Shirina never missed a chance to bury her face in her baby’s hair. She was born with dark wisps, which were curling slightly on the ends now.
“Hi, Jezmeen, how are you?” Rajni said too loudly.
“I’m good. Just waiting to go on but it will be a while. We were supposed to start an hour ago, so it’s still early.”
Rajni grinned. “Ah, India.”
While her sisters caught up and Shirina carried Anaya to the changing table, she was struck by a feeling she occasionally had. It was the opposite of an out-of-body experience, and one that she considered uniquely hers until she read about it in Jezmeen’s profile:
“Sometimes I just feel sort of captivated by this sensation of fully being, if that makes sense. I don’t want to sound pretentious and say I’m fulfilling my life’s purpose—it’s probably simpler than that. It’s just a profoundly gratifying feeling of being exactly where I want to be.” The actress claims she is not spiritual or religious, but a trip to India with her sisters last year, during which she was discovered by HC Kumar, taught her to accept the impermanence of life.
The speeches and toasts were all fairly casual, as Anil and Davina wanted. Anil’s best friend, Joshua, told a memorable story about the times he and Anil did daredevil stunts on their skateboards and posted the videos online. “Considering his aunt was the DisasterTube host, we should’ve known better,” Joshua said with a wink at Shirina. She shook her head to tell him he had the wrong aunt but he was too pleased with himself to make the correction.
Shirina sneaked a look at Rajni during the maid of honor’s speech, which mentioned several times how Davina loved to keep her friends on their toes. “We were not expecting Anil,” she quipped. “Nor were they expecting Arjun. Full of surprises, our Davina!” The titter that went through the small crowd made Rajni visibly stiffen. She still wasn’t fond of jokes about accidental pregnancies or age differences.
Anaya was bundled in Shirina’s lap, her chubby legs dangling beneath the frothy bridesmaid dress that Davina had bought her. It was very sweet, and earlier, as the pictures were taken with Anaya and Arjun sitting together on the grass, Shirina felt a wave of sadness. It was an odd thing, grieving a marriage. Sometimes she didn’t know what felt worse—Sehaj’s unwillingness to fight for her, or his continued absence from their lives. By the time Anaya was born in November, Shirina had filed for divorce. Although she was relieved to find out that he wouldn’t try to fight for custody, she was also deeply hurt for Anaya.
Her last message to Sehaj remained unsent. She had composed it so many times, in so many changing tones and questions and lengthy paragraphs, that it became a conversation with herself. Over time, she was able to delete the lines that no longer mattered. Questions about why Sehaj married her at all if his family wanted so much control. Angry rants about his mother and all the damage she tried to inflict, just because she felt threatened that a woman would steal her precious son. Delete, delete, delete—it became easier, and even the sadness she felt now was muted. It was like the grief she felt for Mum, something that became a little easier to carry as the days passed. Now Shirina only had one thing to say, and it didn’t matter if Sehaj knew it or not. I named her Anaya. It means freedom.
“Is she asleep?” Shirina looked up to find Davina standing over her, holding Arjun. He had Anil’s round eyes and Davina’s big smile. Shirina looked down to find that Anaya had drifted off to sleep. “I must have been rocking her,” she said. “Sometimes I don’t even realize I’m doing it.”
“Same here,” Davina said. “I was swaying back and forth in line at the supermarket the other day while Anil was outside with Arjun. The checkout lady told me there were toilets out the back.”
Shirina laughed. Davina had an ease about her that Shirina really enjoyed, and having another new mother in the family had been a real blessing. They stayed in touch even outside the fortnightly family dinners that Rajni had started organizing after they returned to London. Shirina had lived with her and Kabir in Anil’s old room for a few months before she found a place of her own nearby. Anaya came home in a bundle of fleece blankets to that modest little flat, where Jezmeen’s picture smiled from the fridge and Rajni was only a few streets away.
Anil, Kabir, and Rajni wandered over. “Lovely ceremony,” Shirina said to Anil. “You clean up nicely.” Anil smiled and straightened his jacket lapels.
“He takes after me,” Kabir said.
“You mean before the cleaning-up part, right?” Rajni scoffed. Kabir pretended to look wounded.
“We chose a great day for a wedding, didn’t we?” Davina said. The summer sky was blissfully blue, with a light breeze picking up the ends of her shawl.
“For all intensive purposes, this was the best venue too,” Anil agreed.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Davina asked.
“For all intens—What? What’s wrong with that one?”
A smile danced on the corners of Rajni’s lips. “It’s ‘For all intents and purposes,’ ” Rajni said.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Anil said.
“This is the same thing he said about ‘irregardlessly,’ ” Davina informed Rajni.
“He’s still doing that? Anil, really, sometimes it’s like you never went to school.”
“Hey, Josh, come over here for a second,” Anil called. His best man came bounding over. For the second time, Shirina did not return the wink he gave her. “How do you say it—‘For all intents and purposes’ or ‘For all intensive purposes’?”
“Neither,” Josh declared. “It’s ‘For all, in tensive purposes.’ ”
“What?” Rajni and Davina asked in unison.
“Like, you know, for all people who are, like, in ‘tensive’ purposes. Like something’s tense, it’s a tensive purpose.”
Rajni and Davina both had the same expression of disbelief on their faces. “Do you want to explain it, or should I?” Rajni asked. Davina just shook her head slowly.
Shirina began to laugh. Anaya shifted momentarily from the vibration in her ribs, and then relaxed into slumber again. Tomorrow, when Shirina and Jezmeen spoke again, she had to tell her about this. She’d recount how Rajni and Davina teamed up to launch into a lecture that sent Anil and Kabir scrambling away together. She’d tell Jezmeen that she missed her but she was looking forward to her season premiere. She also couldn’t wait to see Jezmeen in the flesh, but that was a surprise that she and Rajni had been planning together. Next month, once Rajni’s school holidays started, they were taking Anaya to India.
Acknowledgments
It truly took a village to nurture this novel. My deepest gratitude goes to the following people:
My agent, Anna Power, for believing in this novel, even when I wasn’t always sure what the Shergill sisters were getting up to, and where they were headed. Thank you for the pep talks that propped me up when I needed them most.
The wonderful team at HarperCollins who cheered me on: my editors, Martha Ashby and Rachel Kahan, provided valuable feedback and were always just a phone call away to work through the knots in my mind. Fliss Denham and Camille Collins worked tirelessly to promote my previous novel and will no doubt champion this one.
My parents took me on a trip to India in 2016. Thanks for the excuse to drink chai and eat pakoras and call it “research.” Thanks to all the kind people in Delhi, Amritsar, and Chandigarh for your hospitality and your patience with this particularly clueless nonresident Indian.
Barrie Sherwood was only supposed to give me his thoughts on the first chapter but got roped into reading much more. Thank you for your positivit
y, your enthusiasm, and your patience. I aspire to be the kind of mentor and teacher that you are.
My PhD mates at Nottingham Trent University. There are many of you, and although I didn’t submit chapters of this novel to our workshops, I’m so grateful for your supportive presence in my life during this novel’s creation.
Jim and Lucy Lee opened their beautiful, art-and-book-filled home in Virginia to help me kick-start this book. Thank you for holding me accountable to my daily word counts but asking no questions if I lingered in the kitchen for two hours, clearly avoiding my laptop.
Members of my Hollins Village, the best village there could be: your moral support and virtual hugs meant everything to me. This book was written in a time of the greatest and most challenging transition in my life, and your parenting advice helped to put me at ease so I could get back to writing.
All of my friends with sisters. Too many over a lifetime to mention, and you probably didn’t know that your sibling dramas would make their way into my book. I feel I have absorbed many moments of complicated love-hate sister experiences from our conversations. I envy your sisters for having you in their lives but I’m grateful for the next best thing, your friendship.
The staff at Trehaus, a wonderful co-working space that also provides infant care. You gave me the space and time to focus on finishing this book. Thank you for welcoming us into your lovely community.
Paul, husband and father extraordinaire. Every time I say, “I can’t,” you shrug and say, “Of course you can.” You make everything possible.
Asher, if I manage to talk around the clichés one day, I’ll tell you about how you changed my world. How I thought I knew who I was until I became a mother, and how incredibly blessed I am to be yours. For now, all I can say is that I love you, and let’s dance!
The Unlikely Adventures of the Shergill Sisters Page 33