Free No Sex in the City by Randa Abdel-Fattah Page B

in on the family background. Anil’s parents divorced when Anil and his sister were young. It was apparently quite a scandalous split, with Anil’s dad running off with a friend of the family. Anil’s mother struggled on her own until she struck gold, marrying a very wealthy man, and was effectively able to throw that in the face of everybody who’ d whispered and gossiped behind her back.
    For a family of four, the house is gigantic. I’m talking seven bedrooms, three studies, four rumpus rooms
and
a glass lift.
    ‘This kind of wealth is obscene,’ I say to Ruby and Lisa as we stand in our huddle, holding onto our drinks (fruit cocktail for me) in the enormous alfresco area surrounded by manicured hedges and lawns and overlooking a stunning lap pool. ‘I mean, who really needs this much space? And a lift? How excessive is that?’
    ‘The lift is for my grandmother,’ a voice behind me says. ‘She can’t walk.’
    I turn to face Anil. ‘Um, sorry ... that was so rude of me ... I didn’t mean to—’
    ‘—insult your friend’s boyfriend’s paralysed grandmother?’ Anil says, a severe expression on his face. ‘Don’t worry about it! It’s
so
cool.’
    I look down at my shoes, trying to avoid his eyes. Then Anil laughs loudly. ‘Gotcha!’
    Relief washes over me.
    ‘The house
is
pretty over the top,’ he says.
    I don’t dare nod in agreement or smile too enthusiastically. ‘No, no, I was just joking,’ I say, trying to sound as sincere as possible. ‘It’s an amazing home. It should be on one of those television shows. Your family obviously has beautiful taste.’
    Nirvana joins us at that moment and Anil puts an arm around her.
    ‘We have expensive taste,’ Anil boasts. ‘If you work hard you deserve the best of everything your money can buy. That’s the philosophy my stepdad and mum raised me on: excellence in everything.’ He proudly puffs out his chest as he glances at Nirvana. Then he squeezes her towards him and she grins up at him. ‘This house cost one and a half million dollars to build,’ he continues. ‘The interior decorating cost another million. Come into the family room and I’ll show you ...’ Anil takes Nirvana’s hand in his and starts to lead us back into the house where we’re ambushed by a young couple.
    ‘Anil, is this Nirvana?’ the girl squeals.
    Anil smiles proudly. ‘Nirvana, this is my sister, Neela, and her husband, Sunil.’
    Sunil has the typical look of a guy being dragged to a party. He looks Nirvana up and down, grunts a hello and stands to the side, giving off a very strong wake-me-when-this-is-over vibe. What he lacks in social graces, Neela makes up for in over-the-top enthusiasm.
    ‘You’re gorgeous!’ Neela cries, grabbing Nirvana’s arm. ‘Come and let me introduce you to the rest of the family. Anil’s told me so much about you. My mother and stepdad won’t be here until later. We’ve kicked them out until cake time.’ She drags Nirvana away, Anil and Sunil following. Lisa, Ruby and I are forgotten.
    The three of us turn to face each other. We’re silent for a moment, although I can almost read their thoughts. Sure enough, Ruby, as direct as usual, is the first to voice them.
    ‘We’re in trouble.’
    I give them a look and nod slowly.
    ‘How do we pretend to like him?’ Lisa moans.
    ‘What does she see in him?’ I whisper. I know it’s a harsh assessment and first impressions are often deceiving, but how do we look past the bragging and vanity, especially when Nirvana is so humble and modest?
    Ruby thinks for a moment and then says with a sigh, ‘Look, everybody has their redeeming qualities. So he’s a bit of a show-off. From what we’ve seen so far, and all Nirvana’s told us, he’s put her on a pedestal, and we couldn’t want more for a friend. He’s romantic and she’s head over heels. And maybe he’s a great cook. Well read. Champions women’s rights.’
    ‘Feeds the poor and needy and donates blood every