Free Bhangra Babes by Narinder Dhami Page A

Kiran now,” Jazz went on, “or we won't stand a chance with Rocky.”
    “Who's going to tell Mr. Arora the good news?” Geena asked.
    “Well, he can just find someone else to babysit Kiran,” I said bitterly. “After all, there are eight hundred and fifty-seven other pupils at the school. There must be at least one who can be friends with her.”
    Geena and Jazz looked very doubtful but let it go.
    We went back to the supermarket to collect Auntie's shopping, and then trailed home. I felt a bit out of sorts, but I couldn't figure out why. Rocky was as gorgeous as ever, and we were going to put our foot down about Kiran. But something still didn't feel right.
    “I hope Auntie and Mr. Arora aren't fighting,” Geena said wearily as she unlocked the front door. “I don't think I could stand any more drama today.”
    Auntie and Mr. Arora were very far from fighting. They'd been making up. In fact, I had the distinct impression that as we entered the living room, Auntie jumped up off Mr. Arora's lap.
    “You've been a tong lime,” Auntie said. “I mean, a long time.” She giggled.
    “It doesn't seem like you missed us much,” Geena said sternly. A nearly empty bottle of wine and two glasses stood on the coffee table.
    “Is that the time?” Mr. Arora began smoothing his creased shirt and flattening his ruffled hair. “I must be going.” He staggered a little as he got to his feet.
    “Actually, we wanted to talk to you about Kiran,” Geena said quickly, elbowing me in the ribs. “Amber's got something to say.”
    “Why me?” I whispered. But I guessed it was as good a time as any, now that Mr. Arora and Auntie were a little merry. “Well, yes. About Kiran …”
    “Yes.” Mr. Arora shook his head. “Very sad. Very, very sad.”
    We looked confused.
    “What is?” I asked.
    “Her father getting killed like that.” Mr. Arora hiccupped gently. “He died in a car crash about six months ago.”
    There was stunned silence for what seemed like a very long time.
    “Y-You didn't tell us
that,”
I stammered. My formerly good opinion of myself had suddenly plunged right down into the basement. I felt horrible. Awful.
    “That's terrible,” Jazz said, her eyes wide.
    “I wish we'd known before,” Geena whispered.
    Mr. Arora suddenly looked stricken with guilt. “I wasn't meant to tell you,” he mumbled. “Only the teachers were supposed to know.”
    “I'm sure the girls won't say anything,” Auntie broke in. “Will you, girls?”
    “Of course not,” I assured her.
    Mr. Arora gave a dismal sigh. “Kiran's mum says she's withdrawn totally since it all happened. Gone off the rails a bit. I was hoping that you three might— Well, you know what it's like… .” His voice tailed off into another hiccup.
    I consulted Geena and Jazz with a look. We needed to discuss this.
    Mr. Arora reached for his jacket. “I shouldn't have said anything,” he fretted. “I'm a terrible head of the lower school.”
    “No, you're not,” Jazz said loyally. “You're fantastic.”
    “I'll walk round to your parents' with you,” Auntie offered. “Unless you girls need me here?” She threw us a searching look.
    “We'll be fine,” I said. Once I, for one, had stopped feeling like just about the most evil person in the whole world …
    “We shouldn't beat ourselves up about this,” Geena argued as we went upstairs. “After all, we weren't to know.”
    “But we didn't make any effort to find out if Kiran was really a pain in the butt or if something was bothering her,” I replied gloomily.
    “We've only known her five minutes!” Jazz pointed out. “Well, five days, actually.”
    I slumped onto our bed. “It didn't stop us making our minds up about her straightaway, though, did it?”
    We were silent for a little while.
    “It must be awful for someone to die so unexpectedly,” Geena mused. “I mean, one minute they're there; the next, they're gone. At least with Mum, we knew it was coming for