The Secret Lives of the Amir Sisters. Nadiya Hussain

      

      NADIYA HUSSAIN is the phenomenally popular winner of 2015’s Great British Bake Off, with an ever growing public profile and a future women’s fiction star. Nadiya’s brand is growing beyond GBBO, including a cookbook with Michael Joseph, a children’s book with Hodder, and a TV series: The Chronicles of Nadiya. Her Michael Joseph cookbook, Nadiya’s Kitchen, reached the Amazon bestseller chart, and Nadiya has a strong social media presence, with almost 100K devoted Twitter followers.

Copyright

      An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

      1 London Bridge Street

      London SE1 9GF

      First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2017

      Copyright © Nadiya Hussain 2017

      Nadiya Hussain asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

      A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

      This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

      Ebook Edition © December 2017 ISBN: 9780008192273

       Version: 2018-04-17

      I would like to dedicate this book to my Baba. For putting up with my teenage angst and telling me ‘One day you will actually like me young lady’. As much as it pains me to admit it, you were right, and I do actually quite like you now.

      Contents

       Cover

       About the Author

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Dedication

CHAPTER ONE: Fatima

CHAPTER TWO: Mae

CHAPTER THREE: Bubblee

CHAPTER FOUR: Farah

CHAPTER FIVE: Mae

CHAPTER SIX: Fatima

       CHAPTER SEVEN: Bubblee

       CHAPTER EIGHT: Fatima

       CHAPTER NINE: Mae

       CHAPTER TEN: Farah

       CHAPTER ELEVEN: Fatima

       CHAPTER TWELVE: Farah

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Mae

       CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Fatima

       CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Bubblee

       CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Farah

       CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Fatima

       CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Mae

       Acknowledgements

       About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

       Fatima

      It’s going to be fine. I wiped the palms of my hands on my trousers that crinkled from the sweat. Before I realised it my hand lunged towards my bedside drawer, shuffling around to try and find my stash. How could I have run out? Going downstairs wasn’t an option given that I heard Mum on the phone with Jay. That’s the first time he’s called in two months. Every time after a conversation with him there’s always this odd kind of quiet that’s filled with trivial stuff like, Did you get the toilet paper? And Let’s re-arrange the family album. Mum can never quite look any of us in the eye, while Dad goes into the garden to inspect the flowers. I took a deep breath and went to open the window in my room. Just as I’d predicted, there he was, standing with his hands on his hips, staring at his begonias.

      I glanced at the next-door neighbours and quickly looked away. Marnie was out, sunbathing, stark naked. My eyes hovered towards her again. Amazing, isn’t it? She hasn’t a care in the world about who’s looking at her and what others might think. What about all the insects in the grass? What if they decided to make a detour right up her … ugh. Still, that is what you call being sure of yourself. Her whole family’s like that. Naked, but sure of themselves. Dad scratched his head and bowed it so low it looked like he might’ve dropped off to sleep. I wanted to go down and talk to him about his flowerbed, but I hate leaving my room – the comfort of its four walls and dim light. I turned around and reached into my drawer again, just to double-check its contents, and right there at the bottom I felt the steely tube; crumpled, but there was hope. Lifting it out, I saw that my tube of Primula cheese had been squeezed to within an inch of its life. I unscrewed the lid and pushed into the top – a meagre bit of cheese poked out of the nose and back in again. Just then I heard Mum rapping at the kitchen window.

      ‘Jay’s Abba. Come inside,’ she said to Dad.

      I watched Dad peer in at her, confused. Not because she referred to him as Jay’s dad – we’re Bangladeshi, after all, and there are some traditions you can’t let go of; like calling your partner by your eldest child’s name. Except in this case – even though I’m the eldest – it’s Jay’s name because he’s their only son. It doesn’t bother me though – not really.

      ‘Come inside,’ Mum repeated to Dad.

      I guess she saw that Marnie was out too. There was nothing for it; I had to go down eventually, anyway, considering what day it was. So, I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

      ‘Don’t be nervous,’ said Mum as I sat down at the table.

      ‘I’m not,’ I said, trying to smile without wanting to be sick everywhere.

      She blew over me after