‘Auntie, this is my wife, so unless you’re stopping to give us your best wishes for a long and happy life together, I suggest you buzz off,’ said Parvez with all the arrogance and confidence that his entrepreneurial youthful success had brought. As the lady teetered off in her high heels in disgust, Parvez made a low buzzing sound in rhythm with her walk. And as she became aware of what he was doing, and walked away faster, he increased the pitch and frequency of his buzz until she practically ran from them. Shona, at first mortified, was soon in fits of laughter.

‘Puppy! You are so naughty. Bad, bad Puppy,’ she smacked him and laughed out loud again.

‘You see, Goldie, we have to get married. No one else thinks I’m funny at all,’ said Parvez. He looked at Shona’s pretty, unmade-up face, her lips very full and pink against the gold of her skin, and said, ‘I wish we were married already, so I could kiss you whenever I wanted to.’

‘And if we were married already, we wouldn’t have to beg all our families for permission. We could just go to London and tell them all later.’

‘Well, I promised to fly over and see Bhai Hassan to discuss the job,’ said Parvez flippantly. ‘Pack your bags and we can go together.’

‘You’re teasing me, Puppy. That’s not nice,’ said Shona reproachfully. ‘And besides, I’ve got my exams this week and next.’

‘We can go after your exams,’ said Parvez, less flippantly. Why hadn’t he thought of this before? He and Shona didn’t need to be stuck in the rut of tradition - it was the 1980s, for God’s sake, they could get married when and where they wanted; they were grown-ups, and they didn’t need their parents’ permission. And they didn’t need their parents’ money - he had already proved himself as breadwinner for his family, he could certainly look after Shona on his own.

‘Puppy, are you being serious?’ said Shona, noticing the change in Parvez’s expression. He had the faraway look that came over him when he was planning something; it made him look like a misty-eyed dreamer but in fact was a sign that his head was ticking and turning over with ideas. Parvez looked into Shona’s solemn, chocolate-brown eyes and dropped to one knee in front of her.

‘Shundor Shonali Shona, my beautiful Golden Goldie, do you know that you have eyes that a man can look back centuries in, and still see his future? Of course I’m serious! Marry me after your exams. We’ll fly to London the same evening. I’ll organize everything - I’ll get your ticket and arrange the marriage licence.’