Read Bollywood Babes for Free Online Page B

her.”
    “I asked about her family,” I reminded Geena. “She says she hasn't got any.”
    Jazz sniffed. “What if we invited everyone who was homeless to stay with us? We'd never get into the bathroom.”
    “I'm not asking everyone,” I snapped. “Just her.”
    As the train shuddered to a halt, Molly's eyes fluttered open.
    “We'll get a cab to your house,” she announced.
    “I told you,” I began, “we don't have enough money because we had to pay for your ticket.”
    It was like talking to a brick wall. Molly ignored me, rose to her feet and walked off down the carriage, leaving her suitcase behind.
    Geena smiled. “Why don't you try and have a bit more compassion, Amber?”
    I muttered rude words as she followed Molly off the train. “Jazz, give me a hand with this suitcase, will you?”
    Jazz ignored me too. “We are so dead when we get home,” she said, walking away.
    I sighed, dragging the suitcase toward the door. Geena and Jazz might be mad with me, but I knew they'd have done exactly the same thing. They wouldn't have left Molly Mahal there either. It was just more convenient to blame me. That way I got all the trouble that was going. I had a feeling there was going to be a lot of it.
    By the time I'd heaved the suitcase out of the station, Molly Mahal was sitting in the back of a black cab at the taxi rank. She had a stern, implacable look on her face. Geena and Jazz, meanwhile, were hovering helplessly by the open door.
    “She won't get out,” Jazz wailed.
    “Look, love,” the taxi driver said patiently, “do you want this cab or not?”
    “Yes, we do,” I said.
    “This is getting better,” Geena groaned, as the driver hopped out and stowed the suitcase in the boot. “We roll up with the guest from hell, and get Auntie to pay for it. Oh, I can't wait.”
    “What if they're not in?” asked Jazz.
    “We'll rob the jar of change that Dad hides under his bed,” I said, giving her a push. “Just get in the car.”
    The journey was made in silence. Molly Mahal stared out of the window, her face a complete blank. Ihad no clue what she was thinking or feeling. Geena looked worried and Jazz petrified. Meanwhile, I was trying to decide how to break the news to Auntie that we had a houseguest. There seemed no other option but to tell the truth, terrifying as it sounded.
    My heart lurched horribly as we pulled into our street.
    “I have to go inside and get the money from my aunt,” I told the driver as he drew to a halt outside our house.
    He looked a bit suspicious. “All right, but your mum and your sisters can wait here till you come back.”
    “I'm not their mother,” Molly Mahal snapped.
    “There is a God,” Geena muttered.
    “Just wait here,” I said. The way things were going, they'd be at each other's throats before I got back with the £4.65.
    I scrambled out. I was only halfway up the path when the front door was flung open and Auntie dashed out, looking concerned.
    “Why are you in a taxi?” she demanded. “Has someone been hurt?”
    “No, of course not,” I said. “But we need four pounds sixty-five for the fare.”
    Auntie peered down the garden. “Who's the old woman?” she wanted to know.
    I took a breath. “All right, this is the short version,” I said. “We saw in
Masala Express
that Molly Mahalwas living in Reading so we decided to invite her to the Bollywood party. It was a surprise for you. But she's got no money, so we brought her home to stay with us for a bit.”
    “Nice try, Amber.” Auntie fixed me with a piercing stare. “Now, the truth, if you please.”
    “That's it,” I said. “Look.” I tugged the copy of
Masala Express
out of my bag and handed it to her. Auntie glanced at the article and then back at the taxi.
    “
That's
Molly Mahal?” she asked incredulously.
    “I'm afraid so,” I replied.
    At that moment Molly Mahal rapped on the cab window and waved her hand imperiously at me. Auntie stared at her in amazement.
    “Can we have the