Bhangra Babes by Narinder Dhami Page B

choose in a minute.”
    We began to search halfheartedly through the hangers.
    “I'm not wearing any of this,” Geena said through her teeth. “I'd rather wear a sack.”
    “I think you can actually buy that here,” I remarked, whisking a brown, baggy salwar kameez off the rail nearest the window and handing it to Geena. As I did so, I saw someone I recognized going into Jaffa's sweet shop across the road.
    It was Kiran. And to be honest, she didn't look ill at all. She looked remarkably healthy.
    “Follow me,” I said to Geena and Jazz.
    Leaving the two aunties looking at wedding saris, we slipped out of the shop.
    “Great idea,” said Geena. “But what happens when Auntie-ji notices we've escaped?”
    “We'll only be a couple of minutes,” I said. “I just want to find out what Kiran's up to.”
    “We know what she's up to.” Jazz looked puzzled. “She's at home with the flu.”
    “That's what she wants us to think,” I replied. “But I've just seen her going into Jaffa's.”
    “And did she look all pale and wan?” asked Geena.
    “Not at all,” I said. “So I suspect she's been playing truant.”
    As we reached the other side of the road, Kiran came out of the shop with a carrier bag of barfi and samosas. Her face flushed when she caught sight of us, and she looked very guilty indeed.
    “So, how are you feeling, Kiran?” I inquired pointedly. “Mr. Arora told us your mum phoned the school and said you had flu.”
    “I'm much better,” she mumbled, not meeting our eyes.
    “So you'll be coming to school tomorrow, then?” Geena asked sternly.
    “Is that any of your business?” retorted Kiran, rallying a bit.
    “If you're playing truant, then yes, it is,” said Geena, quite pompously. “Because even though it might seem like a good idea right now, it'll only end in tears, and you'll be the one in trouble.”
    Kiran looked mightily annoyed at this, so I jumped in to smooth things over.
    “What Geena means is that there's a better way to work this out,” I said. “I know it must be difficult having to move house and change schools after… what happened, but things will improve. You just have to try.”
    Unfortunately, Kiran seemed even more annoyed.
    “Oh, so you're sure of that, are you?” she sneered.
    “Yes, we are,” said Jazz. “Our mum died eighteen months ago, you know.”
    Kiran was transfixed. She stared at us as people ebbed and flowed around us along the Broadway. “I didn't realize,” she said at last.
    “We had a bad time,” I replied quietly, “so we do know how you feel. You think it's not fair, and you think that you're the only person this has ever happened to.”
    “And you get angry,” Geena added, “even if you try not to show it.”
    “But then things do start to get better,” Jazz went on. “Auntie came to live with us, and helped us to see that you can talk about the person and remember all the good things, and not just the really bad thing that happened at the end.”
    Kiran's lower lip trembled. She opened her mouth to speak.
    “Girls!”
Auntie-ji bellowed across the road. She was hanging out of Sameera's door, waving at us. “What are you doing over there? I want you to come and look at some outfits.”
    “Sorry, we've got to go,” I told Kiran. “Auntie-ji is quite capable of coming over here and carrying us off by force.”
    Kiran's eyes opened wide.
“That's
your auntie?”
    “Thankfully, no,” I replied. “See you at school tomorrow?”
    But Kiran seemed to have closed in on herself again. She shrugged and hurried away.
    Auntie-ji was already on her way across the road, bringing the traffic screeching to a halt by raising her hand imperiously. “Girls!” she roared. “I've found the perfect outfits for you. You simply have to come and see them!”
    “Do you think we got through to Kiran?” Geena asked as we scuttled over to her, trying to ignore the irate motorists.
    “I'm not sure,” I replied.
    But you'll be pleased to hear