Secrets and Lies. Jaishree Misra
with a mop of oily black hair, and would not have been bad looking were it not for an underhand kind of manner that Sam had often found quite sly. Even the way he walked around made it look as though he were sliding around the lab rather than walking. The incorrigible Zeba looked nonchalant as she perched herself on a stool right under the teacher’s nose amid all the clattering and shuffling. She placed one foot on the stool next to her, a position that caused her skirt to slide a few inches up her long legs. Gomes whipped out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead with it, his small black eyes flicking momentarily towards the shadow between Zeba’s thighs before he struggled to look away. Sam took up her station at the counter as Gomes came around lighting the Bunsen burners, keeping a wary eye on Zeba who was whispering with Bubbles and saying something so hysterical that it was making both girls shake with laughter. As Gomes approached the pair, he dropped the matchbox, scattering matches all over the floor. This made the girls crease up some more and then, while he was scrabbling around on his knees, Zeba stood up behind him to make a thrusting gesture with her hips, wearing a droll expression on her face. Sam flashed a warning look at Zeba as the whole class started to titter and Gomes staggered back to his feet, red in the face. The laughter didn’t seem to bother him, though, and he merely looked adoringly at Zeba as she readjusted her facial expression to one of faux respect, leaning forward on the counter so that he could see right down the V of her open-necked blouse to where her cleavage nestled temptingly. Sam shot a look around the classroom and saw that while most of the girls remained oblivious to the drama of Zeba and Gomes, busying themselves with today’s silver-making experiment, Lily D’Souza had her eyes carefully fixed on the pair. Sam saw those pale blue-grey eyes narrow in recognition before Lily looked as though she were calculating something in her head. Sam shivered and looked pleadingly at Zeba, who was still behaving as though she’d inhaled a whole canister of nitrous oxide. Oh, she was going to get such a telling-off when the school day finished.
Zeba was, however, her usual insouciant self when Sam cornered her after their lab session.
‘You should have seen the way Lily was looking at you when you were flirting with Gomes,’ Sam hissed, squeezing Zeba’s elbow hard as they walked to the gate to emphasise her point.
‘First of all, Sam, it’s not me flirting with Gomes but the other way around, okay? And secondly, I’m not scared of Lily. What can she do to me, hanh?’ Zeba replied brazenly.
‘What can she do? She can tell Lamboo, that’s what! And then we’re all in big trouble.’
‘She’ll never tell Lamboo, yaar,’ Zeba dismissed airily.
‘Oh, and what makes you so confident?’
‘Well, because they never talk to each other at all—we all know that. Whatever goes on in the Princy’s cottage after school, happy chit-chat between Lamboo and Lily doesn’t seem to be part of it.’
Sam recognised the truth of what Zeba said. The principal and Lily certainly did not seem to get on very well. On some days they barely made eye-contact with each other when Miss Lamb was taking their English lesson, or so Sam had observed. So it was a relatively safe deduction that Lamboo was the last person Lily would go snitching to. But that didn’t take away from the fact that Zeba was still dancing with death, playing with fire—no hyperbole would suffice to express Sam’s terror.
But to Zeba she merely said, ‘You could be right about Lily not telling Lamboo. I do hope for your own sake you are. But someone else could sneak…’
‘Who? No one in our class would tattle, you know that.’
‘Hmmm,’ Sam conceded reluctantly. ‘Look, we’ll talk about this later, Zeba, and I’ll help you figure out a way to get rid of Gomes. But I gotta go now. I have Haroon coming to pick me up today.’
The conversation was dropped as Bubbles joined them in the exodus to the school gates. ‘What are you two talking about?’ she asked.
‘Nothing much,’ Zeba said. ‘Well, I’m off to my bus. Bye—and stop fretting, Samira Hussain! I’ll look after myself. I promise!’
‘What’s she talking about?’ Bubbles asked.
‘Oh, just that damn Gomes thing. I really, really want her to put an end to it before it all goes horribly wrong.’
‘Do you think—just maybe—sex and all…’
‘Oh Bubs, how can you be so naïve?’ Sam said, throwing her head back in despair. ‘There’s only one person Zeba will ever love and that’s herself. Thing is, she’s so beautiful she’ll always have men chasing after her, and I guess she’ll just use that to get what she wants.’
‘Maybe Gomes loves her?’ Bubbles offered, undaunted. ‘After all, he’s risking his job and all that too.’
Sam finally smiled in sheer exasperation. ‘What is it with all these theories of love, Bubbles Malhotra? And, pray, are you being kind enough to walk with me to the gates only because a certain Mr Haroon Hussain is expected? I know I foolishly mentioned in your presence during lunch break that my brother was coming to pick me up.’
Bubbles blushed and Sam squeezed her arm, laughing, ‘You’re just hopeless at hiding your feelings, you know!’
Bubbles had met Haroon at least a hundred times, having been a regular visitor to Sam’s house since the age of six. But her comfortable old relationship with Sam’s big brother had recently undergone a curious shift that she had magnificently failed to conceal. Sam wasn’t sure yet how serious it was, but it would have been impossible to miss Bubbles’ newly developed curiosity about Haroon’s life, or the ineptitude with which she conspired to be in his presence, only to become all gauche and awkward when she was.
Sam spotted her brother’s head in the crowd and waved. She made her way through the car park, which was crowded with parked cars and school buses, Bubbles still glued to her side. She couldn’t bring herself to ask Bubbles why she wasn’t searching for her car. That would be too rude, and poor Bubbles had already lapsed into tongue-tied silence at the distant sight of Haroon anyway. As Haroon spotted the girls, he raised a lanky arm and grinned lopsidedly The other thing Sam hadn’t figured out yet was if Haroon reciprocated Bubbles’ feelings. He certainly liked her, but then he had always treated Sam’s friends nicely. Not that Sam would mind at all if her brother did start going out with her best friend. Bubbles was pretty much already a part of her family.
‘Hey there, gorgeous girls,’ Haroon said as they neared.
‘You only said that because Bubbles is here,’ Sam complained, throwing her bag into the back seat of the car. ‘On my own, I’d never ever get a compliment.’
‘That’s not true!’ Haroon protested. ‘Is it true? Bubbles, you tell us. Am I not always showering my sister with compliments? I order you to arbitrate!’
Bubbles smiled shyly from under her lashes, her voice little more than a whisper. ‘I don’t think it’s true at all. Haroon’s always saying nice things about you, Sam!’
‘Yeah, right, turncoat!’ Sam said.
‘Good girl, high-five,’ Haroon yelled, slapping palms with Bubbles. ‘Need a lift?’ he asked, reaching out for her bag.
‘No, no, it’s okay,’ Bubbles replied.
‘Really, it’d be no trouble at all. Hop into the car,’ Haroon insisted, not noticing his sister’s exasperated eye-roll.
‘Come on, Bubs, do you or don’t you want us to take you home?’ Sam asked.
Hearing the irritation in her friend’s voice, Bubbles started backing away. ‘No, no, my car must be here somewhere. I just came to see off Sam and to say hello to you, Haroon…’
‘You sure, Bubbles? A lift wouldn’t be a problem. You’re right on our way…’ Haroon wasn’t letting go and now Bubbles was looking ever more confused.
‘Yes, she’s sure, Haroon! Didn’t you hear her say that her car’s here?’ Sam yelled,