The Fall and Rise of the Amir Sisters

‘You know, I think he’s actually excited,’ replied Fatti.

Bubblee looked incredulous. ‘Excited? Sounds a bit farfetched.’

‘Well, he didn’t stomp off to his room or tell Ash how much he hates him, so I’m going to take it as a positive sign.’

‘Gosh. I guess so,’ said Bubblee.

‘You’re going to be an aunt,’ said Fatti.

Bubblee’s smile met her eyes. She really was so beautiful, even if she wasn’t looking her freshest.

‘Will I have to babysit every time I come to visit?’

Fatti shook her head. ‘But I am going to make sure my child likes you the least.’

Bubblee looked so genuinely hurt that Fatti laughed and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

‘We weren’t made to be alone, Bubs,’ said Fatti. ‘Don’t try so hard to be different that you end up not getting what you actually need.’

Bubblee put teabags into the mugs. ‘Oh, right, what do I need then?’

Fatti considered her younger sister. There was so much there, if only she’d stop being so… well, Bubblee. As much as Fatti hated to admit it, who would put up with someone so difficult? Bubblee was lucky she was beautiful because Fatti supposed it’d make it easier for her to find a husband. Probably not Bengali, though. No, Bubblee would have to marry a non-brown person. Fatti would help her when it came to Mum and Dad. It would be good if she managed to find a nice Bengali boy, though. Someone who loved Bubblee for who she was. She’d never have said all this stuff out loud, of course – it made her sound positively backward – but she couldn’t help feeling it. Happiness comes from the people who love you, and who you manage to love back. It’s just the way it is.

‘Well, you’ll know when you find it.’

Just then, they heard Jay’s voice break the silence in the room as Mae told him that Fatti was pregnant. He appeared at the kitchen door, tall and slim, wearing a sweatshirt and trainers, hair flopping over his eyes.

‘Congratulations, Uncle Jay,’ said Fatti.

He smiled and hit Fatti on the arm before hugging her. ‘Better steal some of those kids’ toys I deliver then.’

‘This is the man Mum wants to subject some poor woman to?’ said Bubblee.

‘How’s…’ He cleared his throat. ‘How’s Farah taken it?’

Fatti just gave a simple smile.

‘Always asking the right questions, Jay,’ said Bubblee with barely hidden sarcasm.

‘And how long are you planning to stay?’ he asked her.

She looked away, turning the heat down on the hob. Fatti just about made out Bubblee shrugging before they were called into the living room by their mum. The three entered the room, puncturing the silence, as Bubblee wondered how long she could stay without her family asking her questions about where her life was going.

That night, as Farah got into bed she thought over the evening’s events. Why had she said those things? She turned over and looked at Mustafa, his back to her. He’d hardly said a word when they got into the car and she drove them home in silence. Since the accident Mustafa was no longer allowed to drive, in case he had a seizure – just another one of the many changes their life had undergone. She looked on the other side of her bed, at the empty space where a baby’s cot would easily fit. The light on her phone disturbed her as she checked it and saw the messages.

Fatti: Goodnight. Xxx

Mae: Nyt losers xxx

Bubblee: Goodnight. Mae, I can hear you on your laptop from here. Mum and Dad probably can’t get to sleep because of you.

Mae: Whatevs. Usin da old folks as an xcuse cos u hv ears lyk a bat.

Farah: Goodnight. I am happy for you, Fats. Xx

Fatti: I know xxxx

Farah is typing…

I’m dying a little inside. I want to be happy for you. But I’m too sad for me right now. I can’t find the light at the end of this tunnel.

Farah then deleted her message and turned around in bed, hoping for sleep.

Chapter Three (#ulink_eee972c2-a768-5b7a-9e2c-06c95fc9d193)

Farah was happy for Fatti. At least she would be just as soon as her own life caught up with her sister’s. She put her phone away and reached over for Mustafa.

‘Are you awake?’ she whispered, putting her arm around him.

There was a pause. ‘Hmm.’

Farah stroked his chest. She knew he liked the way she curled his hairs around her fingers. Farah used to like it too, until it became a bit arduous; another hurdle in the obstacle of impregnation.

‘Want to try and make a baby?’

He turned his head. ‘What?’

She attempted to give him her most seductive look.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked. ‘You look like you might cry.’

She paused, biting back her surge of anger.

‘Cry?’ she carried on whispering. ‘Only if you make me.’

Her hand slid down his torso when he turned around towards her fully. ‘I’m not in the mood, babe.’

He brushed the hair away from her forehead and planted a kiss on her brow.

‘What about me?’ she asked.

She was no longer whispering, but she tried to keep the accusation out of her voice. He looked at her for a moment and gave a tight smile.

‘It’s been a bit of a night,’ he said. ‘Aren’t you exhausted? Let’s sleep.’

How was her slim chance of getting pregnant ever going to happen if her husband didn’t sleep with her? Mustafa turned his back again but she pulled him towards her. All it took was one time. This night had to be it. It felt fortuitous with Fatti’s pregnancy. If she could get happily married and start a family, then Farah could surely get pregnant and happy too. If only her husband would let her.

‘All the night’s made me want to do is…’