Page 119 of Pyg

“Asha, you’re here at last.” The woman’s accent was a lively mix of Yorkshire and Punjabi. She took Ash into a rough hug. Pulling back, she looked at her with eyes full of adoration and touched her face.

“Look at you, all skin and bones. You’ve not been eating enough and you’re working too hard.” She tutted and rolled her eyes.

Ash laughed. “I’m fine, Mum.”

An armful of gold bangles jangled as the woman waved her hand. “You’re here now. But what is this you’re wearing?” She stood back, eyeing Ash’s outfit.

“You like it? I had it made at that place in Leicester you recommended.”

Ash frowned as her mum fingered the embroidery, taking her time to assess the fabric and needlework. “Mmm, yes. The Leicester place. Very good.” She touched a palm to Ash’s cheek again. “It suits you.”

“Oh, I’m being rude. Alice, this is my mum, Rani.”

Rani turned to Alice, her flushed round face crinkling in a smile. “Lovely to meet you, Alice. Thank you for making sure Asha arrived in one piece. Did you know her name meanshope?” Rani’s head swayed as she chuckled. “More like hopeless sometimes, especially when she hasn’t got Indi with her.”

“Mum!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your friend. Oh, did you see that Sam’s here?”

Ash visibly gulped.

“She’s brought that lovely husband with her. I hoped she would, and you’ll see that there’s hope for you yet. Hope for the hopeless.”

“Mum, you know that I’m?—”

Rani narrowed her eyes.

Alice softly touched Ash’s elbow. “Shall we get a drink?”

“Yeah, I think I need one.”

“Priya! You made it,” Rani screeched, turning her attention to a woman across the room and dashing away.

Alice squeezed Ash’s tense arm, the velvet material of her jacket soft under Alice’s fingertips.

“Are you okay?”

Ash nodded, but she looked the opposite of okay.

As they cut across the centre of the room, Ash waved and smiled at a blur of faces, but didn’t stop to speak with anyone. They jostled through a knot of rowdy blokes and sidled into position at the bar.

“Sorry to ask, but I can’t help wondering, which one is Sam?”

Either Ash didn’t hear, or she didn’t want to answer, as she remained focused on trying to catch the bartender’s eye.

Alice’s eyes glided around the room, trying to pick out anyone she could imagine Ash with. Then she saw her. At least, she noticed there wassomethingabout the pretty woman in the electric-blue sari. Her arm was looped through that of a tall man with more hair on his face than his head. They stood chatting to another couple, but whilst she smiled and nodded, her eyes betrayed her attentiveness, darting around as if searching for someone.Ash, probably.

Alice turned back to Ash, who was now staring so hard at the bartender it looked like she was trying to levitate him.

“I think I know who she is.”

“Huh?”

“Sam. I know which one she is.”

“How?”

“I told you before, I’ve got a good gaydar. Ten o’clock. Blue sari. Hanging off the bald man.”

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