This is an extract from ‘The Sex Lives of Married Women’ by Saman Shad – Penguin Books, out now.

‘I doubt it. The only one who will try to call me is Sophie, but I’ve been ignoring her calls.’

Asma didn’t say anything to that, keeping a firm eye on the stove where she was frying some pakoras.

Meena hadn’t fully appreciated how her sister had acquired the desi cooking skills from their mother. She had seen it as another point over which to compete with her. But as she crunched on some of the pakoras Asma had fried and was laying out on a platter, she thought it was good that at least one of them could continue the tradition of their mother’s cooking. What if neither of them could make their mother’s biryanis, or meatball curry, or her special tomato and egg curry? What if these foods which she had grown up with got lost when their mother stopped cooking altogether? The thought made Meena sadder than she wanted to admit.

‘Something happen with Sophie?’ Asma asked a few minutes later.

‘I just can’t deal with her right now,’ Meena said as she munched on another pakora. She knew why Sophie was calling. She wanted to ask about the date and the whole online dating saga. But as Meena had determined, not everything going on in her life had to be Sophie’s business.

‘You’re so lucky to have a close friend,’ Asma said, looking a little wistful as she turned around to drop another batch of freshly fried pakoras onto the platter.

‘Don’t you?’ Meena asked, picking them up straight away, even though they were still hot to touch and slightly burnt her tongue. Asma had sliced whatever vegetables she had found in Meena’s fridge and coated them in the pakora batter before deep-frying. So for the first time they were having broccoli pakoras, along with onion and potato ones.

‘No, not really,’ Asma said. She was focused on frying, so Meena couldn’t read her expression. ‘It’s hard to maintain friendships when you’re climbing the career ladder, not to mention parenting two kids and your husband also happens to be a heart surgeon.’

Part of Meena still wanted to say that maybe taking every opportunity to point out what Osman did for a living could rub people the wrong way and maybe that was why she didn’t have close friends. But she didn’t.

Instead she said, ‘Aside from Sophie, I’m not close to that many people either.’

‘Yeah right. You’ve always been popular, Meena. Even when we were at school. You were the one going out to all the parties while I was stuck at home. I wasn’t studying all that time, you know. I was just pretending so it wasn’t apparent to everyone what a loser I was.’

Hearing Asma call herself a loser shocked Meena. Never had her sister made out that she was anything less than perfect. ‘You’re the opposite of a loser,’ Meena said but she wasn’t sure if Asma heard her over the sizzling of the pakoras. ‘Anyway, I wish I’d held on to some of the friends I’d made. Though if I think about it, when would I even find the time to hang out with them? There just aren’t enough hours in the day.’
‘Don’t you think it’s weird that we are constantly surrounded by people but so many of us feel so lonely?’ Meena mused out loud. ‘It’s something I’ve found hard to shake off my whole life, even though, as you said, it may have looked like I was popular at school. I always felt like there was no one on my side.’

Asma turned around, having placed the last batch of pakoras onto the platter. She took a seat on a stool across from Meena.

‘I was always on your side,’ Asma said.
‘It didn’t look like it! You’re always biting my head off!’ ‘Because you’re doing the same to me!’ Asma shook her head. ‘God, I can’t believe how we sound half the time! Our kids are more mature than we are.’

‘Definitely. But maybe I’m doing it now cos in many ways I felt my childhood ended when I was five years old. Is that awful to say?’

‘Meena! I didn’t know you felt that way.’ Asma reached over and grabbed her sister’s hand.

‘But it did. You guys left me behind and suddenly I had to grow up. Is it that bad that I act like a brat when I’m around you? I’m just making up for lost time!’ Meena tried to keep her tone light but emotion was once again scratching at the back of her throat. She tried to swallow it by taking a bite from a pakora. It was the most she had ever said about that point in her life where everything she had known was taken away from her in an instant. Asma stared at her intently, but Meena couldn’t meet her eyes.

‘I don’t think Mum and Dad know how badly this has affected you. I want to say I wish you had told us, but maybe we should have tried harder to work out the implications it had for you. You’ve held on to that feeling of abandonment all this time when, honestly, I thought it didn’t affect you like it clearly has.’

They were both silent for a moment.