Unmarriageable(84)

‘At this point,’ Lady said, ‘I won’t settle for less than a private plane or two.’

Mrs Binat sighed helplessly. ‘Jena, Alys, is Useless Uterus Sherry still giving herself airs and graces? How eager she was to call herself “Mrs Shireen Kaleen” as soon as she got married.’

‘But, Mummy,’ Jena said, ‘what else would she call herself?’

‘Mareea swears,’ Lady said, ‘that Fart Bhai really does let Sherry sleep in for as long as she likes and that he insists she go to the beauty parlour daily and spend as much as she wants. Imagine! Before Sherry’s marriage, visiting the “porler”, as they pronounce it, was such a big deal for those two sisters, and now Mareea claims she’s been so many times, she’s tired of the very word “porler”.’

‘Lady,’ Mrs Binat said, gently, ‘don’t make fun of anyone’s accent.’

‘I will!’ Lady said. ‘Mareea Looclus is a show-off, and I hate her.’

‘You should not hate anyone,’ Mari said, ‘for hate will come back to haunt you, and envy will eat you alive.’

Qitty added, ‘Don’t be petty, Lady. Be happy for your friend.’

‘Mummy, High Priestess and Behemoth are ganging up on me again,’ Lady said.

‘You’re being very spiteful, Lady,’ Alys said as Jena nodded in agreement.

‘Leave Lady alone, Alys,’ Mrs Binat said, frowning, as they walked to the car park. ‘It is thanks to your refusal of Kaleen that Mareea Looclus is in a position to preen in front of Lady.’

‘I just wish Mareea would remember,’ Lady said, ‘that, had Alys bothered to marry Fart Bhai, then I’d be the one going to the “parlour”, but what’s the use? No one cares about what could have been, and the fact is, Sherry grabbed Fart Bhai, and Mareea has lucked out. Jena, Alys, please, for the sake of my soul, please find someone outstanding to marry you. You’ve already reached your sell-by dates, and before you completely expire, I also want to see what it feels like to have a benevolent brother-in-law.’

‘Is Sherry hoity-toity all the time?’ Mrs Binat asked as they climbed into the car and proceeded homeward. ‘Or does she retain the good sense to remember where she comes from and to never forget her phateecher wretched home?’

Alys and Jena exchanged a look. They were home.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE





Every year Nisar and Nona left their children with her parents while the two of them went on a holiday. This year they were supposed to have gone to New Zealand, but Nisar discovered his passport had expired too late to get it renewed, so they decided instead to retour Pakistan’s Northern Areas. Alys had always been eager to see the breathtaking Lake Saiful-Muluk, Gilgit, Naran, Kaghan, Skardu, Hunza, Chitral. They weren’t sure which lakes and valleys and peaks they would visit, but they would love for Alys and Jena to accompany them.

Alys agreed immediately. Jena declined. Their father’s face had fallen at the invite and Jena decided that, having so recently spent so much time away from home, she would stay back. Everyone else’s face fell too: Mrs Binat, Qitty, Mari, Lady. There were shrieks and tears. Couldn’t they have also been invited? In fact, Mrs Binat and her three younger daughters would have happily invited themselves, had they considered hiking and staring at night stars the least bit fun. If only, Mrs Binat kept lamenting, they could all afford a holiday the way they used to. How she longed to return to London! Hai, Lundhun! Hai, Oxford Street! Hai, Hyde Park!

Lady joined in her mother’s longings. Holiday! Holiday! She’d been a toddler when they used to go abroad, and she didn’t even remember these destinations everyone else had such fond memories of. Holiday! Holiday! It was all she would talk about, until even Mrs Binat regretted mentioning the word ‘holiday’.

‘We have no money for even a week’s getaway to a decent place,’ Mrs Binat said. ‘We spent a fortune on clothes for the NadirFiede wedding, and for what – nothing! Now, had Alys married Kaleen, we’d have spent the entire summer in Islamabad. And had Bungles married …’

But Mrs Binat silenced herself. It was evident to all that no matter which smile Jena plastered on her face, she was still hurting, for she’d fallen in love and was now being forced to fall out of it. Even Mr Binat had stopped cracking jokes about ‘eating shoes’ in order to not cause Jena further pain.

Alys’s holiday news was scarcely digested when the phone rang again. It was Lady’s friend Hijab. Hijab’s family had just this year relocated from Dilipabad to Karachi, and she was missing her friends so much that her mother had relented and allowed her to invite a close friend to visit for the remaining two weeks of the summer holidays. Hijab came from a good family – meaning, in local parlance, they were well off. Her mother fancied herself a journalist, having written a couple of recipes and New Year resolutions lists for Social Lights, and her father was in an executive position with the national airline, which meant Lady’s ticket would be complimentary and all she would have to bring with her was shopping money.

‘No,’ Alys said, as soon as Lady got off the phone and waltzed into the living room to inform everyone that she was going to Karachi. ‘You are not going anywhere by yourself, let alone to a different city hours away by plane.’