"Rakesh will be late," said Mum, as some aliens with eyes like long molten mirrors and skin like Brillo pads danced triumphantly on the top of Buckingham Palace.

"Rakesh is a good boy," said Dad.

"Not so good," said Mum. "When will he be getting married, I would like to know? He is twenty-five. Soon enough."

"I was twenty-nine," said Dad.

"And you left it too late. You were lucky I would have you," said Mum.

"Lucky indeed," said Dad. "You were the only woman left in the world who was not married. One day Rakesh will be rich, you mark my words. Rich enough to buy us all out."

"Maybe then he can buy himself a watch," said Mum.

Rakesh was late. Anoushka was pacing up and down in the hall, talking to herself, when she heard him bounding up the steps. He leant on the doorbell and made it ring without stopping. Anoushka opened the door and saw him crouched down, arms open, eyes and mouth wide, ready to catch her. As she always did, she walked slowly backwards down the hall, then ran towards him and leapt into his arms. He half toppled, then recovered his balance and seized her under the arms, spinning her round and round until the family photos and the coat rack and Dad's briefcase all swirled into a giddy blur of colours.

"Noushy!" cried Rakesh. "The most beautiful girl in the world!"

And he was the best cousin in the world. Even if he was late.

"What time are you calling this, Rakesh?" said Mum.

"Sorry, Auntie," said Rakesh. "I had stuff to finish off."

"On a Saturday night?"

"Money never sleeps," said Rakesh.

"Rakesh is right," said Dad. "The markets wait for no man."

"Well, just you make sure she brushes her teeth and her hair. And don't forget her puffer. Her asthma is fully on the march now it is November. Dinner in a proper restaurant. You can afford it now. That cheesecake in Pizza Hut is nothing more than cardboard with cream on top."

"OK, Auntie," said Rakesh. "The Ritz it is, then."

"And in the morning, no more of this Coco Pops nonsense, do you hear me, Rakesh? Don't think I didn't hear about last time. I don't want a gap-toothed daughter."

"Yes, Auntie," said Rakesh.

"How will you get to the theatre at this time, I would like to know? Have you brought a magic carpet?"

"No, Auntie," said Rakesh. "Just a taxi."

"A taxi! Are they paying you in bars of gold?"

Rakesh snatched up Anoushka's bag. "Come on, Noush," he said. "Let's not be late."

Mum reluctantly accepted a hug, Dad kissed her briskly, and then Rakesh seized her by the hand and ran with her down the steps, almost making her trip. Everything with Rakesh was like this: breathless, urgent, frantic and so exciting it made you want to dance and shout.

Rakesh jumped into the chugging taxi, sprawled himself across the back seat and heaved Anoushka inside.

"Back to your place, is it then, mate?" said the driver.

"That's right," said Rakesh.

"What about the theatre?" asked Anoushka.

"We've got someone to pick up first. Sarah's coming too. She's a sucker for Les Mis."

"Who's Sarah?"

"My girlfriend."

"Why didn't you bring her with you?"

"Your Mum wouldn't approve of her. And she'd be straight on the phone to my Mum. I don't need that. Life's too short. You'll love her, though."

"What's she like?"

"She's ... the second most beautiful girl in the world."

Anoushka squirmed with a pleasure so intense it almost hurt. When Rakesh fixed his smile on her, the rest of the world seemed to shrink to nothing.

"Great dress, Noush. Makes you look all grown up."

She didn't care even if they were late for the theatre.

The taxi nudged and nosed its way through the Saturday night traffic, sneaking past red lights when they weren't looking, easing buses aside with a persuasive charm. Gradually the stolid, comfortable homes and trim front lawns of Anoushka's suburb gave way to big houses with peeling white paint that looked like old ladies who'd been left out in the rain. The taxi stopped outside one of the houses. The light was on in the ground floor flat. Anoushka saw Rakesh's enormous sofa and bigger telly.

"You wait here, Noush. I left Sarah putting her make-up on three hours ago, so she might even be ready."

He ducked down and opened the door. Then he froze, and scrambled back into the taxi. He looked scared. Rakesh never looked scared. Rakesh was afraid of nobody and nothing.

"Noush."

"What?"

"Someone's just walked into the front room."

"Sarah?"

"No. Not Sarah. Someone else."