Love, Lies And Louboutins. Katie Oliver

house, she wasn’t there. Any idea where she went?”

      “No.” Desh pushed his chair back and took his plate to the sink as well.

      “Why did you two go there in the first place?”

      “Mum needed fenugreek. She was making daal when my aunt called. She said she had plenty and to send me over to fetch it.”

      “So something happened between the time your mum called and the time you two arrived… something that caused your aunt to leave quite suddenly.” Jack thrust his hands into the warm, soapy water and began the washing up. “No idea what it might have been?”

      “I told you, I don’t know.” Desh scraped a bit of dried egg from his plate into the bin. He glanced at Jack and his dark eyes were suspicious. “Why the questions? Didn’t the police ask my auntie these things already?”

      “They couldn’t.” Jack paused. “She didn’t come back home.”

      “What?” Adesh’s expression darkened. “Why not? What happened? And why didn’t you tell me sooner? Those bastards didn’t grab her, did they?”

      “Adesh,” Jack said gently, his hands gone still in the soapy water, “I’m sorry, but your aunt was shot at some point before you two arrived. She survived – but she’s in hospital, in a serious condition. I’m sorry.”

      “What? Shit!” The plate slid from Adesh’s fingers and crashed onto the floor. He turned on Jack in fury. “I don’t believe you! Who would shoot her? Why? You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re wrong. Wrong!”

      “I wish I was.”

      “I can’t…fuck,” Adesh murmured, his expression anguished as he sank down onto a chair. “Why would anyone hurt my Auntie Deepa?”

      “I’m sorry, Desh,” Jools murmured, and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder.

      “Does your aunt have any kids?” Jack asked.

      Desh nodded. “A daughter, my cousin. Christa.”

      “Christa? Not a very Indian name, that.”

      “She’s half-Anglo.” Desh met his eyes and added, “Like me.”

      If he heard the challenge in Adesh’s voice, Jack gave no sign. “Does she still live on the Mile End Road?”

      Adesh shook his head. “No. She has a townhouse in Primrose Hill.”

      “Primrose Hill, eh? She must do all right for herself.”

      “She’s a singer. You must’ve heard of her – her new song’s in the pop charts.”

      “No, sorry.” Jack finished rinsing the plates and pulled out the broom. “I don’t keep up with pop singers. Where is she now?”

      But he already knew the answer. It was true he didn’t follow celebs; he only followed the exploits of that half-baked rocker, Dominic Heath, because he’d recently married Gemma. And Christa had jetted off with Dominic in his Lear…

      ..leaving his beautiful new bride behind.

      Still, he was curious to see what information Adesh might have about his celebrity cousin.

      “I don’t know where Christa is,” the boy said, visibly annoyed. “I don’t keep up with her. We’re not that close. And I hate pop music.”

      “Fair enough.” Jack glanced at his niece. “How about grabbing a dish towel and drying those plates, Julia?”

      “It’s Jools,” she informed him coolly as she grabbed a towel off the drying rack.

      Jack made no reply, but he gave her a hard look before he began sweeping up the broken bits of plate from the floor, and without another word, she began to dry the plates.