Bubblee rolled her eyes.
‘Or maybe she’s really sad,’ said Farah, sealing another box. ‘Maybe she does feel alone.’
‘But she has Dad,’ said Fatti.
Farah raised her eyebrows. ‘I love Dad, but it’s not as if her needs come first. I mean, I know something about that,’ she added pointedly.
‘Trouble in paradise, eh?’ said Mae.
Fatti shot her a look. Farah pushed the box to one side.
‘It’s as if you’re expected to be a mind-reader,’ said Farah. ‘One minute everything is fine and happy and the next…’ She shook her head. ‘And it’s always about them. Why is it that when women have problems we manage to go about things just the same, get on with it, but men? When they have problems the whole house comes to a standstill. Everything’s about what they want. What they need.’
Bubblee was nodding, vehemently, while Mae was considering it all as if it were marginally interesting.
‘Since the accident, it’s always about Mustafa,’ added Farah.
Fatti cleared her throat. ‘Did you want to start taking these boxes downstairs?’ she said to Mae.
‘I know, I know,’ continued Farah, ignoring Fatti. ‘His life changed, but so did mine and all because of him.’
Mae saw Fatti shifting uncomfortably. She and Mustafa might not have become close since realizing they were brother and sister, but she never did like talking about him behind his back.
‘This is why marriage as an institution is so flawed,’ said Bubblee.
‘Here we go,’ said Mae.
‘You’re bound to one another into this state and there’s this focus on compromise and having to make allowances, but why?’
Farah sighed. ‘Because it’s adult life.’
‘Says who?’
Farah looked at Bubblee as if she were crazy. ‘The world?’
‘The old world,’ corrected Bubblee.
‘I’m so glad Mum left when she did,’ said Fatti. ‘Bubblee would’ve given her a heart attack with all this anti-marriage talk.’
‘Women needed men back then,’ said Bubblee. ‘But we don’t need them for money any more. We can make that ourselves.’
‘And what about babies?’ asked Farah, the colour in her cheeks rising. ‘Where do we go for those?’
Silence ensued again as Farah looked away and the others glanced at one another. After a few awkward moments, Mae said: ‘One of your sisters, obvs.’
She jabbed her thumb towards Fatti. ‘Just like we got her.’
They all paused. Fatti laughed, so did Bubblee, and before they knew it they were all laughing. After a few minutes Farah shook her head.
‘Still needed a man, though.’ Farah stared at Bubblee. ‘Are you really okay with being alone for the rest of your life? Really?’
‘Better than being with someone and still feeling alone,’ she replied.
Mae wondered what it was like to think of such big questions in life. She looked at each of her sisters and knew that whatever questions they were asking each other, or themselves, they weren’t her type of questions. They heard the front door close, then footsteps come up the stairs. Jay poked his head in, said hello, and went into his little room to sleep for the rest of the day since he’d been doing deliveries all night.
‘Although things could be worse,’ said Bubblee when he left. ‘A person could be married to someone like Jay.’
Mae laughed as they spent the next few hours finishing up the packing, her heart fluttering at the idea of all the possibilities opening up in front of her.
The following day there were tears. Bubblee had to dab the corners of her eyes in case someone saw. She remembered when she was going to university and how different it had been. How she had to fight with her parents, especially her mum, in order to follow her now ambiguous dream. Was it even worth it? As she watched Mae get into her car and wind down her window Bubblee realized that she was the most alone out of everyone. If she had actually craved some kind of love, she might’ve tried to find it. But she never did. The idea of going back to London simply filled her with dread, the way staying at home in her prime years used to fill her younger self with fear. The only person worth going back for was her friend Sasha, and she was actually moving ahead in her career as an artist. Sasha, she heard and saw with her own eyes, actually had talent. Bubblee felt the familiar twinge of envy. It used to be a rampant jealousy that drove her to stay up late at night, working on her own sculptures. Bubblee wouldn’t sleep for days, believing that she had created something extraordinary in the end. But no one seemed to see it that way. Her self-belief couldn’t withstand the constancy of other people’s indifference. Indifference is worse than hating something. Now, here she was, back at home and she wasn’t sure to which place she really belonged. Things had changed yet she felt weirdly unchangeable, as though she was set in stone – a misshapen sculpture. There was irony.
‘Love you, losers,’ said Mae, as she waved from the window and drove down the road. Farah, Fatti, Ash, Mustafa, Jay, Bubblee and her parents all waved until Mae turned the corner and was out of view. Fatti blew her nose into a tissue that Ash handed her.
‘She’s going to be fine,’ he said.
‘I know that, but what about me?’ she exclaimed. ‘My little baby.’
‘That’s why we’re getting a new one,’ Ash replied, winking and putting his hand on her stomach.
Their dad cleared his throat and looked away. Bubblee had to shake her head at how ridiculous he and all Asian people seemed to be at any display of affection. Perhaps this had scarred her? Perhaps that’s why she focused so much on her work and creating something, that she didn’t even think about the fact that she was alone until now? Maybe things would’ve been different if someone had fallen in love with her. Even then, she felt unmoved. Assigning blame to her parents didn’t make her feel much better so she decided to stop.
‘What time are you leaving tomorrow?’ Farah asked Bubblee as they walked back into the house.
Their dad sighed. ‘All my daughters are leaving. Stay a little longer,’ he said to Bubblee.
Their mum shot him a look.
‘Abba, she has work to get back to,’ replied Farah. ‘It’s a shame we can’t keep you longer.’
Bubblee wasn’t sure whether Farah was being honest or if she felt bad for the way she’d spoken about her work the other day. She decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.
‘Hmm,’ replied Bubblee.
‘You should stay,’ added Fatti. ‘I could do with some help getting to the toilet bowl.’
‘Great.’ Bubblee collapsed on the sofa. ‘Time well spent for me.’
Mustafa got up. ‘I think I’m going to go home.’
Bubblee’s mum said they couldn’t leave without having dinner.
‘No, Farah, you just stay here if you want,’ he said.
‘You’re going to get a bus?’ said Farah.
He shifted on his feet. It seemed as though he still hadn’t quite got the hang of not being allowed to drive.
‘Bubblee will drive you home,’ offered their mum.