The Bollywood Breakup Agency Page 10

  Taking the card, Neela slunk back upstairs again and threw the card in a drawer. She’d never use it again now. Not when Rishi discovered what kind of man Kiran really was.

  Chapter T hirteen

  The camera zoomed in on each person’s shocked face. It took two full minutes before any of them reacted to what happened. They ran to Mummy-ji, looked down at her and shouted for another five minutes more as the camera once again panned across their distressed faces. They all called out for the matriarch to wake up. Evil cousin Navin finally called the doctor, loudly declaring he must come to the house quickly. His pregnant wife Ishika sprayed rather too much water onto Mummy-ji’s pale features, but the next time the camera found her, her face and hair were completely dry once again. Her new sister-in-law, the imposter Payal, continued to stand and stare with a tray in her hands. A loud wailing signalled an ambulance had arrived.

  The action cut to a hospital room, where three doctors were examining Mummy-ji. The taller of three turned to the family, who were clustered around the bed, and gravely gave the results of her tests. Mummy-ji could now be seen. She was dressed immaculately, her sari still intact from the morning. Her makeup was perfectly done and a truckload of expensive jewellery completed the look. A single plaster had been placed on her forehead.

  Navin, looking shifty, asked what had happened, but the tall doctor revealed they had no idea, and that they would do more tests.

  A heart monitor was beeping a steady rhythm, although there were no wires connected to the patient.

  ‘Come on, you lot, we need to leave now!’ Rishi’s aggravated voice called from the front door.

  Neela, Soorbhi and Daadi-ji tore themselves away from PAL.

  ‘When will they realise, oh, poor Mummy-ji,’ Neela’s grandmother wrapped her best shawl around her shoulders and shivered.

  ‘In about ten years, at the pace that show moves,’ Neela replied, taking her arm and helping the elderly lady to the car.

  It was the night before the wedding, and Nikhil’s pithi ceremony was taking place at his home in Stanmore. The pithi was a small celebration the bride and groom each had separately. The soon-to-be-married-one would sit on a small platform while, one by one, family members would spread a mixture of turmeric, chickpea flour, and other ingredients made into a paste, all over his or her face, arms and legs to make the skin look good for the next day.

  Nikhil’s parents gave her a cautious look as they greeted the family but, luckily, Neela’s indiscretions were forgotten as the pasting turned from a civilised ceremony into an all out brawl, leaving the cousins, parents, aunts and uncles and Nikhil with yellow stuff all over their faces.

  ‘Give me a hug?’ Her gossipy cousin Hira asked, dressed in her mum’s old yellow sari. She then slathered a load of the mixture onto Neela’s already well covered face.

  Neela jokingly slapped her back with a lump of paste that she had in her hands.

  ‘I hear you’re getting married.’

  ‘What?’ Suddenly the desire to give Hira a slap was real.

  ‘Your parents told mine. To a boy you met yourself. Nice one.’

  Neela stared at Hira in horror. This was something she hadn’t anticipated. Her parents had told everyone about an impending engagement before they had even met Kiran.

  Before they knew about Kiran.

  Now, once again, poor Rishi and Soorbhi were in for a good deal of shame, thanks to their errant daughter.

  ‘I broke up with my guy,’ Hira whispered to her, referring to the fiancé that her parents had insisted to the whole community that Hira was about to settle down with for good.

  ‘What? Are you serious?’ Neela was shocked, but not surprised.

  ‘Yeah, he wanted too much of me, and seeing Nikhil and Seema’s engagement, I realised that our relationship was not like theirs.’

  ‘What will your mum say?’

  ‘Nothing yet, I haven’t told her. But don’t worry Neela, I always bounce back and find someone else, you know me.’ Hira raised her eyebrows and went off to slap Nikhil across the face with the turmeric mixture.

  After everyone got cleaned up (except for Nikhil who had to stay yellow for a lot longer) the singing and dancing of the Sangeeth began, Neela groaned as she was dragged around by happy revellers. She had two choices: Run, or marry Kiran. And if she married him, they would have to go on the run anyway, when Rishi discovered Kiran’s past.

  *

  Jai had a date with Rupali. It was unavoidable, as it was arranged by their parents as a treat – ‘to get to know each other’. Jai would have preferred to wait until her birthday party to see her again – he would have been prepared to wait all eternity, actually – but Rupali had sent so many text messages begging him that he was worried his BlackBerry might short-circuit.

  Barely acknowledging his fiancée, who was wearing a fairly prim black and white dress, her hair straight and shiny down her back, he drove quickly to a local Chinese restaurant for the supposed romantic meal. It was heaving, so the masses of people allowed him to pretend to listen to Rupali while he checked out all the other young women in the place.

  ‘Can I take your order?’ a gorgeous young Chinese waitress asked.

  Stopping himself from chatting up the woman right in front of Rupali, he proceeded to order some dumplings, spring rolls and some noodles. He then asked Rupali what she wanted.

  ‘The same.’

  That was worrying. Was she one of those girls who waited until she snared a man, then ballooned to the size of a small planet? Nevertheless, he ordered double of everything and they waited for the food.

  ‘Can you believe it, the first of many meals together?’ Rupali said lovingly. And loudly.

  Jai nodded unenthusiastically. He felt a migraine coming on. Then their meal arrived and Jai piled food into his plate. The sooner they ate, the sooner he could get rid of her. Just as he was about to enjoy his meal, Rupali did something that really annoyed him, the one thing that he hated women doing in a restaurant.

  She picked up a dumpling from his plate and ate it.

  ‘What are you doing?’ He asked in an angry tone. She still had a clean and empty plate. Didn’t she know what it was for?

  ‘That’s what married people do. My parents ate from the same plate for the whole first year of their marriage.’

  Jai was traumatised. A whole year of a woman picking at his food?

  ‘Well, I don’t like people eating from my plate. I ordered you food, and you have your own plate.’

  ‘But my mum said it shows how much you love each other,’ Rupali told him, almost sounding like she was pleading with him.

  ‘I prefer to eat from my own plate,’ suddenly Jai realised he could try making false promises. ‘But once we’re married, we can do all that.’ He was good at making promises he didn’t intend to keep, and so Rupali believed him, and like an obedient puppy, turned back to her own plate.

  This break up idea of Neela’s had better work, he thought to himself, eating so fast he was barely chewing. There wasn’t much time left before the food-snatching Rupali would be his forever. An unbearable thought.

  After he paid for the meal, and gave a penny tip, Jai drove Rupali home much faster than the law allowed.

  *

  The birthday party of Rupali was a major event, for it was the first she would celebrate it with her ‘life partner’. The fact that she was so excited seemed to annoy Jai even more.

  ‘This is the first time we are going out as a proper couple,’ Rupali told him, when it was revealed she was going to be over an hour late for her own party. ‘I want to look good for you.’

  ‘Looking good isn’t the problem,’ Jai had told her, but Rupali had taken it as a compliment, told him she loved him more than life itself, and hung up.

  Two hours later, and Jai was waiting downstairs, making small talk with her family.

  ‘Rupa always takes so long getting ready,’ her mother said. ‘But you have a whole lifetime to get used to that.’ S
he smiled a broad smile, and began the default conversation with a future son-in-law – grandchildren. ‘You’ll have them immediately, of course. Rupa can manage it, and she has always wanted to be a mother.’

  Horrified at the tack the conversation was taking, Jai looked pointedly at his watch. ‘Shouldn’t we be at the restaurant by now?’

  Suddenly they heard the clinking of high heels on wood laminate. Jai looked up to see Rupali, resplendent in a beautiful, strapless, knee-length brown dress with cream coloured trim. She was wearing nude-coloured, peep-toe shoes, which elongated her legs, and was carrying a matching clutch bag. Her hair was set in gentle waves, and the make-up was subtle but highlighted the girl’s features in such a way that she could easily grace the cover of an Indian fashion magazine. The fact that she’d put on green contacts added to the startling effect.

  She looked amazing and for a moment Jai forgot that she was a crazy person and felt a surge of passion.

  Until she spoke.

  ‘Jai, my beloved, it’s been too long since we’ve spoken.’

  It had been two hours. During which time Rupali had sent him 15 text messages.

  Grabbing her hand, Jai led her down the stairs and dragged her towards the front door. She took in the dark Armani suit, bright blue shirt with top button undone, and slightly pointed black Churchill brogues.

  ‘Impressive,’ she said, sizing him up.

  Sure, he was dressed to impress; unfortunately, he was not out to impress her.

  ‘Don’t ruin in.’ He heard Neela’s voice in his head.

  Jai, on Neela’s orders, was supposed to throw his fiancée and her family off any indication that the hopefully dire outcome of the evening was orchestrated by him. Reminding himself to be the loving fiancé, he smiled, opened the front door for her, and ushered her out.

  He parked the car outside the birthday venue, a club popular amongst Rupali’s pals, apparently, and led her in. They handed in their coats and jackets and walked down a narrow wooden staircase. The lights down the stairwell were dim. The music got louder as they descended. Once they reached the basement floor, Rupali gave a shrill scream at the sight of her friends sitting around a couple of tables off to the left, having drinks. It was still early and the place wasn’t too crowded.

  Immediately, Jai spied a couple of women he’d never called back after a night of not particularly exciting passion. For the first time he wondered whether Neela’s idea would be entirely sensible. Once the jilted birds locked eyes on him, they would probably try to kill him.

  His wedding de-arranger would probably say that at least he wouldn’t have to marry Rupali.

  Thinking about the sexy Neela reminded Jai that, notwithstanding his untimely death, the whole escapade would be worth it. He might even ask Neela out when Rupali had ditched him. Or maybe even that V if Neela managed to get rid of her fiancé too. She wasn’t a looker, but seemed to dislike him intensely, which was unique as far and Jai and women were concerned.

  Turning to his bride-to-be, Jai wasn’t shocked to find her staring at him lovingly. ‘Look at all these people, witnessing our love,’ she said.

  Jai did his best not to run screaming. Surely as soon as Rupali discovered the full extent of his seedy past, it would all be over. He hoped it happened quickly though, because as soon as they were seen by all her friends, one of the girls ran over squealing and wished her a happy birthday. Rupali clutched onto Jai like an award she had won and told her that they were going to get married. Her screechy voice talked endlessly about wedding plans and the huge home she would require. It was enough to induce Jai into shaming his family and ditching her there and then.

  ‘Hiya!’ she squealed at some new arrivals, right in Jai’s ear. Were there even more people he had to meet? Bloody hell.

  Scowling at her, Jai took a closer look at the people dragging seats to the table. Hang on? Could it be?

  Further thoughts were interrupted by Rupali grabbing his hand and pulling him to the other end of the table for introductions. The group of girls seemed impressed by him, and greeting him happily. All but one, that was.

  ‘This is . . .’

  ‘Oh. My. God. Jai!’ the fourth friend exclaimed. She was slightly chubby, in an attractive way, and crazy black ringlets.

  ‘You already know each other?’ Rupali asked, loosening her grip from his hand.

  The girl, whose name was Disha, stood up and grabbed Rupali away from Jai, as if trying to save her from an axe murderer.

  ‘Disha? What is it?’ The other girls asked, looking confused.

  Jai, on the other hand, knew exactly what it was. He’d had his wicked way with poor old Disha a few years ago, and had never contacted her again, despite promising to. Who could have known Disha knew Rupali’s best friends? And that she even remembered? Actually, why wouldn’t she? Jai was hard to forget. It was a heaven-sent situation.

  But Disha shook a well-covered hand at the three girl’s wild calls and pulled Rupali away. They meandered through the groups of dancers and ended up in a dark corner of the room.

  If Disha didn’t do it, then the other girls who were due to turn up later most certainly would. Jai went over to the bar and ordered a whiskey and coke, ready to have his victory sip.

  *

  Disha had dragged Rupali away. ‘I need to tell you something. Your fiancé, he’s a total scumbag.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I met him a few years ago, at a bar. While we were both at uni. I think he was doing his masters. I had just broken up with my boyfriend, and was really upset. And then he sat beside me and offered me a drink because I looked so sad, and he wanted to hear all about my problems.’

  ‘That sounds just like my Jai, such a good listener,’ Rupali said in a dream-like state.

  ‘Would you just let me finish? Anyway, we kept drinking, and he was telling me how beautiful I was, and I was feeling sad, so we just went for it.’

  ‘It?’ Rupali shook her head.

  ‘It.’

  ‘Not my Jai. He likes to go out but he’s not like that.’

  ‘It gets worse. I woke up alone the next morning. He was on the sofa with his mate laughing and joking about what we’d done. I had to walk home by myself.’

  ‘No! Jai? You must have got it wrong?’ Rupali couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How could it be? Her parents would be mortified if they discovered this.

  ‘Yep,’ Disha nodded her head and apologised again.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ Rupali said obstinately. It just couldn’t be Jai. Her Jai.

  Finally, her best friends appeared, high heels like gunshots on the dance floor. Tears were running down Rupali’s beautiful face. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’

  One of them handed her a tissue whilst Disha quickly filled them in.

  Rupali walked away, she couldn’t listen to the story again. As one of her friends ran after her and tried to offer comfort, Rupali looked for Jai. Where was he?

  Then she saw him by the bar, dancing with some Asian slapper Rupali didn’t know, in a short, tight, purple dress. He had his hands around her waist and she was dancing so close to him it looked like a scene from what Rupali imagined an x-rated movie might be like.

  Pulling away from her protesting friends, Rupali walked over to give him what for, then saw yet another girl she’d never seen before, dressed in leggings and a low cut top, poke Jai in the back. He turned around and she slapped him across the face, and screamed at him.

  What was going on here?

  ‘I’ve been looking for you for months! How dare you use me like that!’ The girl tried to slap Jai again but he managed to get out of the way in time.

  Rupali raced over and pulled the girl back before she had the time to raise her hand once more, and told her to get lost. Jai’s dancing partner slunk away too.

  Rupali felt exhausted. And humiliated.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Was Jai actually smiling? Rupali could well understand those girls wanted to smack him.


  ‘Not her as well? And who the hell was that slut dancing with you?’

  ‘Well what can I say? I’m a popular guy,’ Jai boasted, slightly slurred.

  He was drunk.

  Quickly, Rupali retraced the events of the past few minutes, and breathed a sigh of relief. So that’s what was happening here. Jai was an alcoholic, and that made him do silly things.

  It would be alright. He was a player. He had an addiction. Well, now that Jai had met her, it would all be different. All he needed was the support of a loving wife and he would be fine.

  ‘Listen,’ Rupali said, putting her arm around the back of his neck and pulling him down to her level, to make it look like they were in an embrace. ‘If you recognise anyone else around here, I want you to avoid them at all costs,’ she said briskly. ‘You are my fiancé, and we are in love. I won’t let these slags bring you down.’

  ‘But my seedy past? There’s a heap more girls I’ve done it with.’

  Rupali pondered that revelation. ‘You did want an arranged marriage, you must want to change?’

  ‘But Disha, and the others . . .’

  Rupali smiled, tousling his fine hair. He seemed so contrite, so sweet – so kissable! ‘Honey, all you need to do is keep your mouth and your flies shut and we will do just fine. I can’t let you drive home like this though, I care about you far too much to let anything bad happen to you.’

  And in spite of Jai’s protests that he was bad and that she didn’t deserve him, Rupali assured him that she would never leave him.

  Never, ever.

  Chapter Fourteen

  THE MORNING OF THE wedding, Neela was getting dressed in the new sari paid for by her parents. It had been purchased as soon as Nikhil’s engagement was announced, along with matching shoes and bag. Long before the Trivedi trauma.

  If only some new jewellery had come with the gesture. Placing the two-year-old stuff over her, Neela prayed it wouldn’t be recognised by her family. She could almost hear the comments now: ‘You’re wearing old jewellery to a family wedding . . . don’t you care?’