Aisha and the Prince of Wales

Chapter XII: The Prince and the Punjabi Parents

Dialling his number, Aisha began to walk briskly to her cabin. Being on the phone was a good excuse to not have to talk to all the curious people who would otherwise pounce on her on the way. 

As Nick's phone rang, she walked as fast as she could, acknowledging her coworkers with a wave. Colette's eyes were critical as they followed Aisha- she would clearly have a snarky comment or two to make when she got Aisha to herself. Rita's eyes were huge and full of questions- she was clearly excited, and had a lot of gushing to do. John stood up to approach her, but subsided, disappointed, when he saw that she was on the phone, and wouldn't be able to give him her undivided attention.

Finally, Nick answered. He must have been busy with something.

"Hi," said Aisha breathlessly, putting her handbag down on her desk, and slipping into her hair, her feet jiggling anxiously.

"Aisha, hi! I've been trying to reach you," said Nick, sounding relieved, "Listen, I'm so sorry about the paparazzi following you around- I have no idea who leaked that video from Lulu's birthday, and when I find out-"

"Nick," cut in Aisha, "Relax! It's okay."

There was a beat.

"Really?" he asked, sounding incredulous, and a little sceptical. Aisha gave a small laugh.

"Well, no, it isn't, but what I mean is, it isn't your fault. You have nothing to apologise for. And the security detail you provided does keep them at- well, not arm's length, but elbow length. Which helps me go about my work."

Nick sighed. "I wish you didn't have to deal with them hounding you at all," he said.

"Well, we can't do much about it now," said Aisha candidly, "However, there is a way you can make it up to me."

"What's that?" asked Nick, smiling at the way her voice trailed off suggestively.

Aisha took a deep breath.

"My parents would like to meet you," she said hesitantly, "They’ve been a bit...well...worried, to say the least, since the video came out, and want to ask you what your intentions are with me."

Nick laughed. 

"Of course. And I'll assure them that my intentions are nothing but honourable," he said, lowering his voice in a way that made Aisha blush.

"Great," she said, clearing her throat nervously, "I'm planning to go home this weekend. Would you like to come then?"

*

Come Saturday, Aisha found herself driving down to her parental home in Hounslow with Nick. Her old duffel bag was in the boot of his luxurious car, looking very small and slightly shabby in the immaculately-maintained vehicle.

Aisha bit her fingernails. Her whole family was going to be there, of course. They wouldn't miss this for the world. Meeting the Prince of Wales in their own home, and embarrassing Aisha in one go? It would be like Christmas had come early.

Nick, to his credit, looked slightly nervous himself. He kept adjusting the collar of his polo tee, and his chiselled jaw was tense.

"Relax," Aisha told him, "If anyone is going to be embarrassed, it's me. You have nothing to worry about."

Nick laughed softly. 

"It's just that I've never met a girlfriend's parents before," he confessed.

Aisha stared at her knees, a flush rising up her cheeks when he referred to her as his girlfriend. Was that what she was? They hadn't been dating very long, but Nick didn't seem to have any qualms with their relationship progressing rather faster than expected. And digging deep into her heart, Aisha found that she didn't, either.

*

Aisha didn't need to ring the doorbell. Her siblings had obviously been lying in wait for her, as her younger brother Arjan opened the front door the minute the sleek, black car rolled up to the house.

Over six feet tall, turbaned, and bearded, Arjan could look intimidating when he wanted to. Though he was still in uni, he looked older, and people often thought he was older than Aisha. 

At his heels was Asmi, Aisha's younger sister. In her final year of school, Asmi could not have been more different from Arjan in appearance.

She had the sharp features and slim figure that both the sisters had inherited from their mother, but where Aisha was tall, Asmi was tiny. At a mere 5'2", she looked impossibly delicate as she stood on her toes, trying to peek over Arjan's shoulder.

"Hello, brat," greeted Aisha, giving Arjan a hug. He scowled at the name- it clearly put a dent in his macho image. However, Asmi grinned hugely, giving Aisha an enthusiastic hug, and poor Nick a once-over before turning to call their parents.

Arjan lifted Aisha's duffel bag, clearly wanting to appear responsible and mature, and carried it up to her bedroom as Mr. and Mrs. Ahluwalia appeared.

A kind-faced, pretty woman, Mrs. Roop Kaur Ahluwalia was dressed in a pale pink salwar kameez, her long, black hair pulled back into a neat bun.

Aisha's father, Mr. Manpreet Singh Ahluwalia, had the same fierce look as his son. Tall, burly, and grey, he cut an intimidating figure with his wild brows and muscled forearms. 

Aisha smiled to herself, shooting a glance at Nick. Though he looked calm, no one had met her father without quaking in their boots. However, once you got to know him, Manpreet Uncle, as her friends called him, was a real teddy bear.

Mrs. Ahluwalia stepped forward, holding out her hands to Nick. With absolutely no airs and graces, she gave him a warm smile, and said, "Welcome to our home, beta."