and Bella shook their heads.
Bella frowned. ‘He should have stuck to inventing and not bothered with the singing then. He doesn’t sound very happy.’
‘He’s a they, and it’s one of Uncle Doug’s CDs. He must have left it in here.’ Squinting into the relentless afternoon sun, Erin overtook a dawdling smart car and pulled back into the left-hand lane. ‘I quite like it.’
Bella shook her head.
Erin concentrated on driving and tried not to think about Nalisha. The previous evening she, Jay and Nalisha had gone to the Merry Cobbler for an alfresco pub meal in the sunset, and the entire evening had been filled with Nalisha’s elaborate stories of family weddings and parties, and each story, it seemed to Erin, had been carefully chosen to show just how much Erin was letting the Keskar side down by being an outsider.
As soon as Jay had disappeared into the pub for refills, Nalisha, dressed in skinny white jeans and a gorgeous coral-pink top, had leaned across to Erin.
‘So, are you getting nervous about the wedding?’
‘No. Not at all.’
‘I’d be terrified by now,’ Nalisha had laughed, looking as if she’d never been terrified of anything in her life. ‘But of course, as it’s a fusion wedding, at least you won’t have to endure the hours and hours of full-on Indian ceremonies. Although it clearly isn’t what Deena wants.’
Erin had sipped her cider and tried to stay calm. ‘No, it isn’t.’
Understatement.
Nalisha had delicately nibbled an olive, then laughed. ‘And of course, as you’re not even wearing a ceremonial sari …’
‘No, I’m not,’ Erin had said quickly. ‘And please don’t think you can persuade me because –’
‘God, I wouldn’t dream of it.’ Nalisha had wriggled the top a little lower. All the men in the beer garden watched. ‘A girl’s wedding dress has to be her choice and hers alone. After all, it’s the most wonderful outfit you’ll ever wear, isn’t it?’
Erin had nodded, still not trusting Nalisha aninch.
Nalisha had laughed. ‘Poor Deena will be so disappointed. She loves everyone to be dressed in full ceremonial splendour. I remember at Jay’s twenty-first …’
Erin had sat back, taking sips of now lukewarm cider, listening to story after story of Jay’s parties, celebrations and family festivities – all of which had included Nalisha – feeling her confidence draining away with each one.
‘… and then, when he graduated, well, that was simply spectacular.’ Nalisha had stirred the remains of her G&T. ‘Deena and Tavish were so proud. Well, we all were of course. So they hired the function room at the football ground – Premiership, of course – and we had a party for thousands. Oh, but you must have seen the photographs …’
Erin had nodded. She had. She just hadn’t realised that Nalisha had been there, or just how massive the celebration had been. How massive any of the celebrations had been.
Jay’s parties had clearly always been hugely flamboyant affairs.
So, she’d wondered miserably, did Jay secretly want a massive Indian wedding? Was he only going along with the fusion idea to please her? If he’d been marrying Nalisha, the full-on poojas and parties would have happened as a matterof course, wouldn’t they?
And everyone – including Deena and Tavish – would have been delighted.
In fact, if Jay had been marrying the sumptuous, fragrant, corporate lawyer Nalisha, then Deena and Tavish would be far happier than they were right now, wouldn’t they?
How desperately disappointed must Deena and Tavish really have been when Jay had announced his engagement to a comprehensive-school-educated village girl who worked in a junk shop?
Erin had groaned inwardly. She’d never had any doubts before, but now …
‘Sorry to have been so long.’ Jay had emerged from the pub at that moment. ‘I got caught up in a conversation with Gina – are you two getting to know one another?’
And Erin had nodded miserably
Bella frowned. ‘He should have stuck to inventing and not bothered with the singing then. He doesn’t sound very happy.’
‘He’s a they, and it’s one of Uncle Doug’s CDs. He must have left it in here.’ Squinting into the relentless afternoon sun, Erin overtook a dawdling smart car and pulled back into the left-hand lane. ‘I quite like it.’
Bella shook her head.
Erin concentrated on driving and tried not to think about Nalisha. The previous evening she, Jay and Nalisha had gone to the Merry Cobbler for an alfresco pub meal in the sunset, and the entire evening had been filled with Nalisha’s elaborate stories of family weddings and parties, and each story, it seemed to Erin, had been carefully chosen to show just how much Erin was letting the Keskar side down by being an outsider.
As soon as Jay had disappeared into the pub for refills, Nalisha, dressed in skinny white jeans and a gorgeous coral-pink top, had leaned across to Erin.
‘So, are you getting nervous about the wedding?’
‘No. Not at all.’
‘I’d be terrified by now,’ Nalisha had laughed, looking as if she’d never been terrified of anything in her life. ‘But of course, as it’s a fusion wedding, at least you won’t have to endure the hours and hours of full-on Indian ceremonies. Although it clearly isn’t what Deena wants.’
Erin had sipped her cider and tried to stay calm. ‘No, it isn’t.’
Understatement.
Nalisha had delicately nibbled an olive, then laughed. ‘And of course, as you’re not even wearing a ceremonial sari …’
‘No, I’m not,’ Erin had said quickly. ‘And please don’t think you can persuade me because –’
‘God, I wouldn’t dream of it.’ Nalisha had wriggled the top a little lower. All the men in the beer garden watched. ‘A girl’s wedding dress has to be her choice and hers alone. After all, it’s the most wonderful outfit you’ll ever wear, isn’t it?’
Erin had nodded, still not trusting Nalisha aninch.
Nalisha had laughed. ‘Poor Deena will be so disappointed. She loves everyone to be dressed in full ceremonial splendour. I remember at Jay’s twenty-first …’
Erin had sat back, taking sips of now lukewarm cider, listening to story after story of Jay’s parties, celebrations and family festivities – all of which had included Nalisha – feeling her confidence draining away with each one.
‘… and then, when he graduated, well, that was simply spectacular.’ Nalisha had stirred the remains of her G&T. ‘Deena and Tavish were so proud. Well, we all were of course. So they hired the function room at the football ground – Premiership, of course – and we had a party for thousands. Oh, but you must have seen the photographs …’
Erin had nodded. She had. She just hadn’t realised that Nalisha had been there, or just how massive the celebration had been. How massive any of the celebrations had been.
Jay’s parties had clearly always been hugely flamboyant affairs.
So, she’d wondered miserably, did Jay secretly want a massive Indian wedding? Was he only going along with the fusion idea to please her? If he’d been marrying Nalisha, the full-on poojas and parties would have happened as a matterof course, wouldn’t they?
And everyone – including Deena and Tavish – would have been delighted.
In fact, if Jay had been marrying the sumptuous, fragrant, corporate lawyer Nalisha, then Deena and Tavish would be far happier than they were right now, wouldn’t they?
How desperately disappointed must Deena and Tavish really have been when Jay had announced his engagement to a comprehensive-school-educated village girl who worked in a junk shop?
Erin had groaned inwardly. She’d never had any doubts before, but now …
‘Sorry to have been so long.’ Jay had emerged from the pub at that moment. ‘I got caught up in a conversation with Gina – are you two getting to know one another?’
And Erin had nodded miserably
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