Bollywood Babes Read Online Free

“OK, so it's a long shot. But Molly Mahal can only say no.”
    “And she will,” Geena added.
    “
If
she does,” I went on, “it'll still be our idea, and we can get the credit. Then we can send in Auntie.”
    “Deadlier than a cruise missile,” Jazz added.
    We were wandering along our street deep in conversation and plans. So it took me a while to realize that someone was traveling alongside us, keeping pace. I eventually glanced up to see Leo astride his bike, traveling slowly along the curb. Leo delivers our newspapers, and he and I have a love-hate relationship. Geena and Jazz prefer to put the emphasis on the love bit, though.
    “Oh. Hello.” I felt my face fill up with color as Geena and Jazz started giggling loudly.
    “Hi.” Afiery-cheeked Leo handed me Dad's evening paper, rolled up into a neat tube. “How's your auntie?”
    “Fine,” I twittered, stepping backward onto Geena's and Jazz's toes simultaneously. “How's your brother?”
    “The same,” Leo replied. “But the fund's getting bigger now. We might be able to take him to America for the operation this year.”
    “That's great news,” I said, fiddling with the newspaper. “Well. Bye then.”
    “Bye.” Leo looked strangely reluctant to leave. He pedaled slowly away, looking over his shoulder, heading straight for a large pothole.
    “Ouch,” Jazz chuckled as the bike lurched boneshakingly into the hole, shooting Leo up into the air and down again.
    “The path of true love never did run smooth,” Geena chortled.
    “Shut up.” I waved the newspaper at them. “I've got a weapon in my hand and I'm not afraid to use it.”
    “What's that?” Jazz asked as something shiny and glossy slipped out of the middle of the paper.
    I bent to retrieve it from the pavement. It was a copy of
Hip Chick
, “a brand-new magazine for cool girls with funky style,” according to the cover.
    “He's made a mistake,” I said. “This isn't ours. Leo!”
    He didn't hear and was pedaling off. I chased after him. Because of Auntie, we'd discovered that Leo did two paper rounds, both morning and evening, helping to save money for Keith's operation to get his twisted back put right. Leo might get into trouble for delivering the wrong papers to the wrong house. I didn't want that.
    I tripped and sprawled flat on the pavement, narrowly missing a pile of dog dirt. “Leo!” I picked myself up, ignoring my scraped knees. “Leo!”
    Leo skidded gracefully to a halt and looked round.
    “This …,” I panted, waving the magazine weakly, “isn't … ours.”
    Leo looked highly embarrassed. “It's for you,” he muttered, and scorched away on wheels of fire.
    Geena and Jazz strolled up behind me. “
Hip Chick
—‘the magazine for cool girls with funky style,'” Geena read out over my shoulder. “The red-faced, snotty-nosed, grazed-knee look must be big, then.”
    “Maybe we should start interfering in Amber's love life,” Jazz remarked, “and give Auntie and Mr. Arora a break.”
    “Yes,” Geena agreed. “Between Leo and George Botley, she's got a more interesting love life than any Hollywood movie star.”
    I took out a tissue. “Hilarious,” I wheezed. Blushing wildly, which crimsoned my face even more, I stuffed the magazine into my bag. “About tomorrow”—I reached out to stop Jazz opening our gate— “we'd better decide what lies we're going to tell Auntie before we go in.”
    “I think we should tell as few as possible,” Geena advised. “I always find lies sound better if you stick to as much of the truth as you possibly can.”
    “We'll ask her in front of Dad,” I decided. “You know how she's trying not to interfere so much.”
    Dad had kind of left us alone after Mum died. But now, slowly, things were coming back together.
    “Shall we tell them we're going to Reading?” asked Jazz.
    “Yes,” I said thoughtfully. “But not why.”
    “Auntie will want to know,” Geena pointed out.
    “All right.” I shrugged impatiently.