‘Aren’t you scared for your life, dating the boss’s daughter?’ Yunus asks Zaman, an inch of ash dangling from his cigarette.

I’m standing on a stool, quietly replenishing the various packets of Laziza Masala mix on the shelf, when this bombshell drops. Shaista and Zaman: my bougie sis and Imran’s ex-gansta cuz? No freaking way … though it would explain the weird call to her phone the other day.

‘What’s to be scared of?’ Zaman says, flexing his rotator-cuff muscles with a smirk. ‘I’ll probably marry her.’

‘Osman bhai would never allow it. She’s his princess,’ Yunus says, waving his fag in the air like a conductor’s baton.

‘Uncle Osman will have no choice when she’s carrying my baby.’

Yunus stares aghast at Zaman, then shakes his head tutting.

I grip the shelf, steadying myself. Zaman has to be lying. Shais would never date a gangsta.

But the idea refuses to go away.

That afternoon, I pluck up the courage and confront my sister.

‘Shais, can I talk to you?’ I ask, hanging in her bedroom doorway.

‘Only if it’s not in Street,’ she says, sitting in front of her laptop, designing a flattering thumbnail for her latest video.

‘Look, man, this is serious!’

She rolls her eyes. ‘So is basic grammar. Why are teenagers so obsessed with speaking in increasingly stupid ways, anyway? Soon enough, you’ll have to learn to communicate properly, or nobody’s going to employ you.’

I shrug. ‘Are you … um …’

‘Incredibly beautiful and talented? Why, yes. Do I have over twenty-two thousand followers on YouTube? Yes again. Am I available for Hollywood film roles? Speak to my agent …’ She pauses, like she just got a whiff of something rotten. ‘Unless you’re one of those casting-couch directors, in which case, please hand yourself in to the nearest police station.’

‘Shais!’ I snap. ‘This is important.’

She knits her painted eyebrows together, about to unleash grammatically correct fury when she detects the edge in my voice.

‘Are you dating Zaman?’ I blurt.

She’s searching for a comeback, her false eyelashes fluttering like feathers. Exposure has fried my sister’s brain.

‘So it is true,’ I say, shaking my head sadly. ‘Man is talking trash about you.’

‘What?’

‘When everyone takes breaks at the store, Zaman sits there boasting about you being his girl. Real personal stuff he ain’t got no business telling others.’

She narrows her eyes. ‘Like what?’

I look down, my face roasting with shame. ‘Said he was going to get you … um … Make you have his baby, so Dad would have to let him marry you.’ The last bit comes out in a whisper cos I feel dirty just saying it.

An uncomfortable silence foams around us, worry momentarily flashing over Shais’s forehead.

‘You are a terrible liar.’ She dismisses me with a flick of her nails.

‘Wallahi!’ I say, placing a hand over my heart.

‘Get out. I’ve got work to do.’

I hover for a moment longer, but she goes back to editing the thumbnail graphic. I feel like the World’s Biggest Arsehole.

‘Where’s your sister run off to?’ Amma asks at dinner-time. ‘Her lasagne’s getting cold, and she won’t eat stringy cheese.’

‘I’ll get her …’ I grumble, scrapping my chair back.

I’m about to go up the stairs when a cold draught tickles the side of my face. Glancing to the right, I see a sliver of light, and realize the front door hasn’t been closed properly. Peering into the street, there’s no sign of Shais. About to shut it, I notice two figures on the opposite side of the street, partially hidden by the conker tree. Dropping down to all fours, I slip out in stealth mode, taking up a recon position behind our wall. Now I’m PakCore, engaging the advanced tech in my bodysuit, thin silver lenses clicking into position behind the eyeholes of my mask for some old-school magnification. A giggle cuts my imaginings, and Shaista scampers away from the tree. A hand flies out, gripping her wrist. Instinctively my jaw tightens. A second later, Zaman steps out from behind the tree, pulls her into his arms and presses his lips to hers.

The gross sight makes me want to gouge my eyes out. Then something worse happens. Zaman’s hand slips inside my sister’s jeans. She tries to pull away, but he’s locked on, like Killer Frost sapping Superman’s powers with a death kiss. Her hands close over his arm, and I can’t work out whether she’s trying to push him off or living her best Bollywood life.

‘Ilyas?’ Dad’s voice drifts towards me. ‘You found her?’

Shais may be Dad’s favourite, but if he catches her now, he’s guaranteed to hit the roof. Switching to Damage Control Mode, I scuttle back inside.

‘She’s OK, Dad,’ I say, intercepting him in the corridor, directing him back to the dining room. ‘On the phone to one of her gal pals, innit?’

Amma raises her eyebrows disapprovingly. ‘What sort of time is this to be phoning a friend?’ She starts to rise, ready to give Shais a piece of her mind.

‘Allow it, Amma,’ I say quickly. ‘One of her mates is having a massive meltdown. Shais is giving life-saving advice.’

‘That’s my girl!’ Dad says proudly, stuffing a spoonful of lasagne into his mouth, a spatter of sweetcorn and mince raining back on to his plate. ‘Always thinking of others first.’

I sigh inwardly. Crisis averted. For now.

Later that evening, I catch Shais on her way to the bathroom.

‘Are you in love with Zaman?’ I say with subtleness of a meat cleaver.

‘None of your business,’ she says, making scary eyes before stepping past me.

‘I saw you guys, by the tree.’

She freezes, shoulders hunched. I can imagine the expression on her face, a volcano in the early stages of erupting. ‘Are you blackmailing me? Threatening to go public to Amma and Dad?’

‘No, never. I just … I need to know he isn’t bullying you into doing stuff you ain’t comfortable with. Cos … that’s what it sorta looked like.’ I twiddle my index fingers nervously.

She looks at me, sadness tweaking the corners of her lips. ‘Look, appreciate your concern, but not the spying. Do you honestly think there’s a man alive who could take advantage of moi? Razor-sharp wit and vitriolic put-downs, remember? You’re the one who needs saving all the time, ickle Ilyas, not me.’

Strutting over to the bathroom, she’s projecting power, but I sense fear under the cracks. There’s something about living with a person your whole life – you just know. Without saying a word about it, Shais has just told me everything I need to know about her relationship with Zaman. And that makes everything ten times worse. No point in telling Dad; Shais will only hate me for the betrayal. The only way I can rescue her is to expose Zaman. Shaista’s got to be the one to kick him to the kerb.