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?’
Fatti spewed out bits of the cloudy drink, covering her top with it.
‘Amma,’ exclaimed Farah.
‘Zi, you can’t get a baby without the sex.’
‘Oh, my actual God,’ said Mae.
‘Mae, you leave the room. You are too young for this talk. Bubblee, you too.’
‘Mum,’ they both exclaimed.
‘I’m in my thirties,’ said Bubblee.
‘You are still unmarried.’
‘This is why I’m going off to uni. At least there I’ll be treated like an adult,’ said Mae.
‘Only if you act like it,’ said Bubblee.
‘No one has to leave the room,’ said Farah, ‘because we’re no longer having this discussion.’
Their mum looked unimpressed. ‘You are just like your abba. He never talks about things either.’
‘Listen, I’ve been to the doctor again…’
Farah looked at everyone. Mae noticed her voice waver. ‘He started going on about IVF and surrogacy and God knows what, but I’ve gone for more tests. Perhaps something will be different this time.’
‘Oh, Faru,’ said Fatti. ‘Things might change.’
Farah