Desh Read Online Free Page A

lights were few, just one or two at sparse intervals. She felt inside her bag for the clutch of keys. A car door clicked and the light inside flicked on. “So babe, you done for the night?” She looked into the front window of the car.
    â€œWhat you boys doing hanging in a car park? Haven’t you got someplace better to be?” The interior light reflected on a black bonnet that gleamed with polished pride. The driver stepped out of the car. “Waiting for you and your friend. Thought we might go to Revolution’s, later.” He ran a hand down her arm.
    â€œYou need to learn when to play and when to stop, especially when there’s CCTV around.”
    â€œLike I believe that.”
    â€œNo? Well, Du-wayne, the tape me and the manager watched looked a whole lot like you and my friend in the back of this car last week. So thanks for the invite, but my friend isn’t around and I got to be getting home now, all right?”
    â€œIt’s Dwayne, yeah? – not Du-wayne and I’m gonna spread the word about you. That stopped you.”
    â€œYou know nothing about me.”
    â€œI know where you work.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œI’ll tell them all what you’re like.”
    â€œGo on then. That’s really going to work a treat with the footage we’ve got of you. You can kiss your gym membership goodbye and fun times in the steam room. Oh and you’ll have to pay your arrears too before you’ll be allowed back in. Shall we talk about that now?”
    â€œEvil bitch.”
    â€œBack off. The camera’s rolling.” She disengaged and continued walking, with measured footsteps.
    â€œYou don’t call the shots,” he said.
    The car came to a weary stop outside the house. She cut the music and watched the Sura charm dangle. The car park at work would have to cease to be a playground and, though her father seemed to have given up cleaning inside the Peugeot, she sprayed round with deodorant, just in case.
    She hurried past the grass border of the estate and, once inside, she slumped on the sofa. “You look worn out,” Nessa said.
    â€œDon’t, Ma, please.”
    Her mother continued to stroke her hair. “I had a dream last night. I saw you in the car at night. It was pitch black outside and you were there on your own. You’d parked in a multi-story place, late – after midnight. You got into the car quickly because you were scared – it was a bad part of London, and you wanted to get home. You had parked on the top floor so you knew you had to wind your way down to get out, but every floor looked the same and there were no exit signs. It was one of those horrible places with concrete everywhere and you kept getting lost and couldn’t find your way out. You drove round and round, but it just got worse and worse. The more you drove the more lost you became and you couldn’t find your way out.”
    She wrapped a scarf round Aila’s shoulders. “Here, you’re shivering and you seem to have lost an earring.”
    Later, upstairs in her room Aila tried to call Shaf, but she didn’t pick up. She left a few missed calls and waited until her eyes started to close of their own accord and she had to go to sleep.
    When she hadn’t heard for a few days, she let it go. She knew her friend would call eventually, though perhaps there was some truth in what her mother used to say. Nessa always warned her not to put too much effort into friends. People outside the family will lead you into trouble, she’d say and girls will get married and leave you.
    But then, the following Saturday morning, as Aila lay in bed enjoying those blissful moment of peace and privacy before the next crisis hit, Shaf called and she thought, that’s your generation, Ma, not mine. Shafia gushed with copious apologies. This was the first chance she’d had to catch up since the wedding and she launched into her story,