Nadiya Hussain - The Fall and Rise of the Amir Sisters

‘Why didn’t you just use your key?’ said Mae, rolling her eyes. ‘I’ve got too many boxes and Mum says I can’t take my juicer. I mean, hello? It’s not like any of you lot are going to be making kale smoothies.’

Farah walked in and simply greeted this with: ‘Oh.’

‘Thanks for the sympths. Hope your packing powers are better,’ Mae said, striding up the stairs, leaving Farah behind.

‘Well, she’s here at last,’ said Mae, going into her room where Bubblee was throwing some of Mae’s clothes into a black bin bag for charity.

‘Oi, no! I want those,’ exclaimed Mae.

Bubblee held up the beige cargo pants in disdain. She just shook her head and chucked them back in the cupboard. Fatti was lying down, her eyes covered with her arm and a leg dangling off the edge of the bed.

‘I’ll be better in a minute,’ she mumbled.

Mae went over and put her hand on her forehead.

‘She doesn’t have a temperature,’ said Bubblee. ‘She has a baby.’

Mae looked at Fatti, her brow knitted in concern.

‘You were all right last week,’ she said.

‘Evil eye.’

The three girls turned around to see their mum looming at the door and watching Fatti with a look Mae didn’t quite recognize.

‘Yeah, thanks, Amma. That’s gonna make her feel loads better,’ retorted Mae. ‘And who’s given her this evil eye?’

As if on cue, Farah appeared next to her mum, holding a box and looking into the room. Under normal circumstances Mae would’ve laughed. Only, it was a bit of a coincidence and it made her feel uneasy. Because Farah was not being Farah. That wasn’t to say she was going around cursing people with bad health, obviously, but still.

‘You’ve not got very far, have you?’ said Farah, eyeing Mae’s room: the empty boxes stacked in a corner, bin bags that were half full, clothes splayed everywhere.

‘I’ve got markers and labels in here,’ she added, lifting the box.

Fatti was leaning on her elbows and attempting to sit up.

‘Hi,’ she said to Farah.

Farah smiled at her and wedged her way past Mum, setting the box down at Fatti’s feet.

‘Still not feeling great then?’ she asked.

Mae looked at Bubblee. She knew she’d had a talk with Farah and maybe it had worked because at least she wasn’t behaving like a bit of a cow. On the one hand, Mae couldn’t wait to leave all this drama behind her and start actually living her life; on the other hand, she knew this was also her life, and she wouldn’t be around to tell them all to get a grip and sort it out.

‘No, I’m fine, really,’ said Fatti, looking as though she might throw up there and then. ‘I’m just… for a second…’ and she lay back down, covering her eyes with her arms again. ‘Just a few seconds.’

Then their dad appeared.

‘All right, Pops?’ said Mae. ‘We needed more people in my room.’

He gave Mae a faint smile. His lack of ability to get her jokes now filled her with an affection that doubled because she wouldn’t witness it as often.

‘What is wrong with Fatti?’ he asked.

‘I’m fine, really,’ she replied without moving.

‘Father of mine,’ said Mae, patting him on the arm. ‘Have you forgotten when your dear wife was pregnant with her children?’

‘Tst,’ said her mum. ‘Don’t talk about such things with your abba.’

Her dad looked at her mum and smiled, but she wasn’t meeting his gaze.

‘What’s for lunch, Jay’s amma?’ he asked her.

‘Dal, porota, rice, fish curry, chicken curry, meat curry and potato curry,’ she replied, looking determinedly at Fatti.

These people, seriously. But Mae didn’t want to think about what drama was unfolding in her parents’ lives because they were old enough to sort it out between them.

‘All right, all right,’ said Mae, clapping her hands. ‘Can my lovely parents leave us to the packing since I’m leaving in under twenty-four hours and Bubblee’s erasing my identity by binning all the clothes I like. Thanks!’

With which she pushed her parents out of the door and looked at all her sisters. Bubblee was shaking her head with a smile and even Farah managed to laugh.

‘Don’t speak like that to people when you get to uni,’ came Fatti’s voice. ‘You’ll never make friends.’

Mae emptied out the bin bag that Bubblee had filled and said: ‘I’ll make the ones worth keeping, thanks. Plus, you can’t choose your family but at least I’ll get to choose my mates.’

The sisters got to work as Mae passed the clothes she’d be taking to Farah, who put them in a box and labelled them. They spent the next hour or so in relative silence, Fatti excusing herself in a rush to use the bathroom, and occasional conversations revolving around how petite Mae’s clothes were, which didn’t mean they should be worn in public.

‘Whatevs,’ she’d reply.

‘Books,’ said Bubblee, picking up a stack from Mae’s shelf, and one that seemed to have fallen behind the rest of them. ‘Which ones are you taking?’

‘Oh, wait.’

Mae leapt up and took them from Bubblee’s hands, putting them back.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ said Bubblee, still holding the one that had fallen.

She looked at it. The Myth of Choice: Female Sexuality and Getting it Right.

‘What kind of book is this?’ said Bubblee.

‘Nothing, leave it,’ replied Mae, snatching it from her. ‘Just, I’ll sort out the books last.’

Bubblee raised her eyebrows and turned back to Sellotape a box shut. Mae felt the colour in her cheeks rise. She didn’t even know why it mattered what books she did and didn’t read. Some things just interested her more. She didn’t have to justify anything, but that didn’t mean her family wouldn’t always try and make her.

She and her sisters looked up when they heard their mum’s raised voice. Mae scampered towards the door and opened it to get a better listen.

‘Mum never raises her voice,’ said Farah, also leaning in closer.

‘Don’t eavesdrop,’ added Fatti.

‘You lie back down, preggers,’ retorted Mae.

‘What are they saying?’ whispered Farah.

‘Shhh.’

Mae crept to the top of the stairs, leaning over the bannister for better earshot.

‘Calm down, calm down, Jay’s amma,’ she heard her dad say.

Silence. Then there was clattering in the kitchen. Mae waited for more but nothing else came. She walked back into the bedroom to her sisters’ expectant faces.

‘Useless. They stopped as soon as I got to the stairs. Apart from Dad telling Mum to calm down, I got nothing.’

‘How odd,’ said Bubblee. ‘Although hardly shocking, a man telling a woman to calm down.’

Mae smiled fondly at her sister. There was something to be said for people who were annoying all the time, because at least they were consistent. Their mum appeared at the door again, this time with some kind of drink concoction for Fatti. She went and handed the cloudy, dishwater-type stuff to her eldest and then sat on the bed.

‘Thanks, Amma,’ said Fatti, barely touching the mixture with her lips before running to the bathroom.

‘Poor girl,’ said their mum, looking after her.

Farah, Bubblee and Mae looked at their mother who seemed to have made herself quite comfortable.

‘Don’t worry,’ she added, looking at Farah who’d already begun folding clothes again and looking resolutely at the floor. ‘Your time will come somehow.’

Mae wanted to shake her head. Her mum still didn’t get that Farah didn’t want vague platitudes, she needed concrete solutions. Fatti came back in and sat on the bed, closing her eyes. She picked the glass up again.

‘Now,’ said their mum, ‘are you and Mustafa having the sex?’