The Wedding Countdown (39 page)

‘They’ll freak!’

‘We can’t lie to them, Roma. They have to know everything.’

‘Everything? Even,’ she gulps, ‘about the PoppadRUm party?’

I nod. ‘
Especially
about the party, because that was where Raza first got his claws into Fizz. There’s no point covering up for her; look where that’s got us.’

‘Then I should tell them,’ says Roma bravely. ‘Since I’ve done all the covering up.’

I give her a hug. ‘None of this mess is your fault. We’ll tell them together.’

So we break the awful news between us and it has to be one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. My parents are disbelieving at first but once the truth sinks in they’re furious and distraught in turn. They try phoning Fizz but of course she doesn’t answer; then Dad blames Mum for letting me move to London, Mum cries and blames herself and Roma weeps so hard she can hardly see. Poor Eve and Nish, catapulted into this family catastrophe, busy themselves making
chai
and putting the shopping away.

‘What was she thinking?’ sobs my mother, working her way through my emergency Kleenex. ‘What about our
izzat
? Oh Allah-
ji
!’ She blows her nose hard. ‘What will we tell Mutti? He’ll never allow Subhi to marry Mills now!’ She continues in this vein for at least half an hour until I can’t stand it any longer. Why didn’t I listen to my parents and agree to marry Subhi in the first place? Then Fizz would never have had the opportunity to fall into Raza’s clutches.

‘Don’t, Mummy-
ji
,’ I plead, close to tears myself. ‘It’s going to be all right. Wish will find her and bring her home.’

‘And who is this Wish?’ demands my father, his face grey with worry. ‘Is he yet another predatory young man? Am I supposed to feel better because my daughter is going to be compromised by two men in one evening? Amelia, I thought I knew you better. Just how many shameless men do you know?’

‘No Daddy-
ji
!’ I cry. ‘Wish isn’t like that! He always does the right thing. He wouldn’t dream of bringing Fizz back unchaperoned!’

‘He wouldn’t, honestly,’ adds Nish. ‘Wish is one of the most honourable people I’ve ever met.’

‘He’d better be,’ my father says grimly.

‘He’ll find her, Daddy-
ji
,’ I say, hoping desperately I’m right. ‘He’ll bring her home safely. He’s promised me.’

‘You have a lot of faith in this Wish.’

Daddy-
ji
’s right. I do. What a bitter irony it’s taken me so long to realise what an amazing person Wish is. He’s never let me down yet.

‘He’s a good person,’ is all I say.

‘Let us hope this trust is well placed.’ My father passes a hand across his face. ‘But if he doesn’t call within the hour I’m going to fly to London and see what I can do. I’ll be in my office checking flights.’

We wait in miserable silence which is punctuated only by Roma’s sniffing.

Mummy-
ji
pushes a piece of paper into my hand. ‘Mills, call your friend and give him this number. He may need some help.’

I look at the digits and frown. ‘This is a London number. Whose is it?’

‘It’s your Aunt Seema’s number. Don’t ask questions,
beti,
just do as I say. Family has to come before stupid feuds.’

‘You’ve been in touch all this time?’ gasps Roma.

Mummy-
ji
sighs. ‘I don’t agree with the pain she’s caused, but family is family. Just don’t tell your father.’

All I care about is getting Fizz back. Race issues,
izzat
, even my own unhappiness fade into insignificance. I text the number and a brief explanation to Wish, and then sit back to gnaw what’s left of my nails.

‘It’ll be fine, babes,’ Nish whispers. ‘Wish would move Heaven and Earth to help you.’

I hope she’s right. All I can think about is my baby sister all alone in London and, if I know Raza, terrified out of the few wits she does possess. Allah-
ji
, please let Wish find Fizz. I promise I’ll marry Subhi and be the best wife there ever was. I’ll be a model daughter. I’ll try my hardest to put Wish out of my heart and settle into my new empty existence.

It doesn’t do to make bargains with higher powers. Just seconds after these thoughts float into the ether my mobile buzzes, the sound abrasive in the subdued kitchen. I pounce on it.

‘She’s safe,’ Wish says.

I sag against the kitchen table.

Shukriya, Allah-ji!

Shukriya! Thank you! Shukriya!

‘What’s happening?’ demands Roma.

I give the thumbs up and my mother bursts into tears. Roma shrieks with excitement, racing out of the room to tell Daddy-
ji.

‘Where was she? Was she with him?’

Wish describes how he tore over to Raza’s offices and how he burst into a meeting Raza was conducting with a major client, forcing a showdown.

‘Unfortunately for Raza,’ says Wish wryly, ‘the client also happened to be a very wealthy Arab businessman who was horrified to learn what Raza gets up to in his spare time. He started ranting about dishonourable behaviour and Raza didn’t have much choice but to tell me where Fizz was. When I left all Hell was breaking loose. The client was demanding to speak to Raza’s superiors. He’s in big trouble.’

‘It couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy,’ I say with feeling. ‘So where was Fizz?’

‘She was in a hotel near the office,’ Wish says gently. ‘Mills, she’s in a bad way.’

‘He didn’t–’

‘Nahin!
Nothing happened! She’d changed her mind and was desperate to come home, but he’d told her nobody would ever believe they hadn’t slept together. Fizz was distraught.’ Wish’s voice is laced with disgust. ‘He’d told her she’d sacrificed her family anyway and that if she didn’t sleep with him he’d turn her out into the street.’

‘Can I speak to her?’

‘I’ll get her to call you,’ says Wish. ‘My mum’s looking after her.’

‘Your mum?’ As in Ophelia West, the Bond girl?

I can hear the smile in his voice. ‘Yes, my mum. Likes to feed me and makes me use hankies? I asked her to meet us at the hotel. You didn’t think I’d compromise Fizz any further, did you?’

‘Of course not! I knew you’d do everything honourably.’

‘That’s good to know,’ says Wish slowly. ‘Your aunt and uncle have been brilliant too. We’re going to catch a plane up. We’ll be with you as soon as we can.’

I’m weak with mingled relief and joy. Fizz is safe and on her way home.

‘Thank you, Wish!’ I half laugh, half sob. ‘I can’t thank you enough for doing this for Fizz.’

‘Oh Mills,’ he says softly. ‘I didn’t do it for
Fizz
.’

It’s late by the time a taxi pulls up outside our house, but although everyone is gritty-eyed with exhaustion nobody will give in to sleep until they’re certain Fizz really is home safe and sound. Daddy-
ji
is shocked that his errant sister and her husband have been instrumental in driving Fizz from the hotel to the Rahims’ Hampstead town house. He’s had several tearful phone conversations since, both with Aunt Seema and Nanny-
ji.
I hope with all my heart that some good comes out of this hideous mess.

Roma and Mummy-
ji
fly up the garden path, pull Fizz from the taxi and smother her in kisses.

‘She’ll be getting more than kisses from me,’ mutters my father.

Fizz is bundled into the house. In the bright light of the porch she looks horribly pale and her eyes are swollen from crying. While my mother fusses I peer into the shadowy garden and beyond to the taxi where a tall figure is unfolding himself.

‘Daddy-
ji
!’ I say, tugging his sleeve. ‘That’s Wish! And that,’ I point to a silhouette in the back of the taxi, ‘must be his mother!’

At this point everything takes on a rather surreal quality. My father strides to the taxi and pumps Wish’s hand up and down before enveloping him in a huge hug of heartfelt gratitude. Then he thanks Wish’s mother, who is every bit as beautiful in real life as she is on the big screen with her cloud of Titian hair and those heartbreakingly familiar green eyes. My father is so relieved to have Fizz home that he fails to twig that the wife of his greatest hero is smiling up at him. He doesn’t register any surprise either that Wish’s mother is most definitely not of Pakistani origins.

‘Thank you, for looking after my daughter,’ says my father. ‘I owe you a debt I can never repay.’

‘I was delighted to be able to help,’ Ophelia West reassures him. ‘Any parent would do the same. When Darwish explained your daughter was alone, of course I wanted to accompany her. And besides, my son is very proper that way. He wouldn’t dream of compromising your daughter’s reputation.’

Wish catches my eyes and gives me that dimpled smile.

‘Anyway,’ adds Ophelia, her cool-as-river-water gaze turning to me. ‘I was wildly curious to meet the famous Mills at long last. And you haven’t been exaggerating either,’ she stage whispers to Wish. ‘She’s stunning, darling.’

I blush to the roots of my hair and even though it’s dark I know Wish is doing exactly the same.

‘Your son is a fine young man,’ my father tells her, beaming at Wish. ‘The very finest. You and your husband must be very proud.’

‘We are,’ dimples Ophelia. ‘He’s a treasure.’

‘Mum!’ protests Wish.

‘Well, you are,’ says Ophelia staunchly, tossing back her glorious hair. ‘Anyone who doesn’t realise so is a fool.’

She looks at me as she says this and I’m suddenly aware there’s a whole subtext running beneath this conversation. Fortunately Dad is blissfully unaware of this.

‘Please,’ he says, gesturing towards our house, ‘come inside. You must stay the night.’

‘There’s no need, sir,’ Wish says. ‘We’ve got a flight back to Northolt in an hour.’

‘I didn’t know that there was a route there.’ Daddy-
ji
looks perplexed. ‘I never saw one on the Internet.’

Wish looks embarrassed. ‘It’s um…’

‘It’s a private jet,’ says Ophelia smoothly. ‘Some dear friends of ours lent it. In fact, we must thank David and Victoria later, Wish. Don’t let me forget, will you?’

‘Er, no,’ says Wish.

All this is going right over Dad’s head but I’m so taken aback that if I hadn’t been leaning against the garden gate I’d have fallen down with a thud onto the path. Wish has borrowed a plane from the Beckhams to bring my sister home! How’s that for above and beyond the call of duty?

And not any old plane either. I smile sadly at Wish and think here’s yet more evidence that he’s way, way out of my league. No wonder he’s marrying the equally jet-setting Minty.

‘Well,’ says Daddy-
ji
, whose knowledge of celebrity culture is on a par with my knowledge of nuclear physics, ‘thank you once again, Mrs Rahim. And thank you too, Darwish.’ He puts his arm around me. ‘I’ll be getting my daughter back inside. We’re flying to Lahore tomorrow for her
shaadi
.’

‘Tomorrow?’ gasps Wish.

‘Oh well, that’s that then,’ says Ophelia. ‘We’d better not be keeping you, had we? Come on darling, hop in.’

Wish doesn’t move.

‘Are you really going tomorrow?’

I can’t look at him. Dad’s given his word to Uncle Mutti and I’ve promised Allah-
ji
faithfully I’ll fly to Pakistan and be the most dutiful wife who ever breathed oxygen. So, yeah, I’m really going tomorrow.

‘Of course,’ I say.

‘Good luck,’ says Ophelia coolly. ‘Come on, Darwish, let’s get into the car. There’s nothing to keep you here now, is there?’

‘No.’ he says softly. ‘I guess not. Good luck, Mills. Be happy.’

I feel like flinging myself under the nearest bus. Happy? Never again in this lifetime.

And then the taxi doors slam, the engine roars into life and moments later Wish Rahim speeds away from my house, out of my street and out of my life forever. I stare after the receding tail lights and it takes every inch of willpower I possess not to tear after him, weeping and screaming like a
pagal
.

Daddy-
ji
squeezes my shoulder.

‘You were right, Mills. He is an honourable young man; any father would be delighted to welcome him into the family.’

‘Stop right there, Daddy-
ji
! If I’d brought Wish home and asked to marry him you’d have gone crazy. He’s not a full Pakistani.’

My father shakes his head, ‘We do not choose our birth but we do choose the way we conduct ourselves, and your friend Wish has conducted himself more honourably than many others I have known. I’m beginning to see that honour can be found in the most unusual places.’

I stare at my father. I forget to blink for quite a while. Surely he can’t be saying what I think he’s saying?

‘But Daddy-
ji
! What about everything you’ve always said about mixed-race marriages? What about Aunt Seema? You disowned her because of the shame to our family’s
izzat
!’

My father tugs his beard. ‘
Beti,
I have been harsh, maybe too harsh. I need to speak to my sister and maybe we can resolve the past,
insha’Allah
. Your friend Darwish is a good man. That is all that matters.’

‘You approve of Wish? You’d have let me marry him?’

And, of course, my father delivers the killer blow when he nods.

‘But most certainly. He will make some man a very fine son-in-law indeed.’

While I stand staring into the night, Daddy-
ji
returns to the house. A dog barks, and the distant sound makes me feel even lonelier as I stand in the darkness, silent tears trickling down my cheeks and my heart speeding back to London with Wish Rahim.

Chapter 33

I can’t believe I’m in Pakistan.

When we step off the plane I feel as though I’m walking into a blast furnace as the harsh sun beats down upon my head. Apart from the heat the most shocking thing is the smell. The airport smells like a sewer. I try hard to breathe through my mouth, unlike Eve who pulls out her duty-free bag and sprays the space around her with Obsession. I stand down wind of her and take great gulps of perfumed air. Why didn’t my folks warn me about the smell?