The Reading List(105)

‘Can I ask what the next book is? I want to read it,’ Mukesh said, sensing Aleisha’s embarrassment, desperate to come to her rescue and offer a change of subject.

She nodded – for a moment, she thought she glimpsed Aidan, sitting on the chair next to Mukesh, reading The Time Traveler’s Wife.

‘Why don’t you come in tomorrow and I’ll suggest something for you?’

‘Thank you, Aleisha.’ After a moment, he pushed himself up from his seat, slowly, carefully. ‘Well done on today, beti. Well done,’ he said, his smile infectious.

‘Thank you, Mr P,’ she replied, softly, now wiping down some more tables, unnecessarily. Mr P wandered out of the glass doors after tapping on the ‘Automatic Open’ button as if it were second nature. How far he had come. ‘Oh, wait!’ she called out to him. He turned around, cautious. ‘Sorry, they asked me to remind you. Could you bring back The Highway Code?’ Mr P’s face turned red, and he nodded hurriedly before wandering off.

Then her mind returned once more to the woman stepping out of Zac’s car. She’d never imagined it would be Leilah, it was a distant dream, really. But today was meant to be about Aidan and she’d allowed herself to hope.





Chapter 41


ALEISHA


AS ALEISHA TURNED ON to her road, she glanced at her house, expecting the usual shut windows, darkness inside, the curtains half closed in every room. Rachel and Jeremy weren’t back yet, their car wasn’t outside – they’d gone to pick up some ingredients for dinner – and a panic started to bubble through her. Was Leilah okay? How long had they left her? She’d been so preoccupied by the planning for the event, she’d barely even stopped to think about Leilah being in the house on her own.

She started to walk more quickly, before breaking into a half-run. But when she approached number 79, there, sitting on the front step, was Leilah. The door was wide open behind her.

‘Aleisha, I’m s—’ she began, her voice fading away.

She was dressed head to toe in navy, in one of Aidan’s hoodies and his tracksuit bottoms too. She began to push herself up as Aleisha moved towards her, but she didn’t have the strength. She leaned forward and gathered her mum up in her arms.

Leilah and Aleisha stayed like that for just a few moments. But Aleisha took it all in. She wasn’t angry any more. She didn’t have the energy to be angry. Aidan wouldn’t want her to be. Now, she just wanted her mum back. She inhaled – smelling Leilah’s coconut shampoo, and Aidan’s stuffy, musty hoodie.

‘Mum, it’s okay.’

‘No, Aleisha,’ Leilah pulled herself away, gently. ‘I’m so sorry. I wanted to come. I tried. I just couldn’t.’

‘Mum, don’t worry.’ Aleisha wished Leilah had been there to see it, to see how many people had turned up, all the people who had been there for Aidan.

‘Here,’ Leilah said. She pulled herself away again and dug out a piece of paper. It was a print-out from Leilah’s fancy printer – she could tell because of the thick paper, the detail in the lettering. It was an email.

‘I signed up to the library,’ Leilah said. She smiled. ‘I know it seems stupid, but I’ve loved you reading to me. I hope we can do it some more. I know it might be a while until I get up and go there myself, but … I’m serious. I know how much your brother loved it too. Ever since he was little. And look,’ Leilah pointed to the bottom of the email.

1 book on reserve: To Kill a Mockingbird, by Lee, Harper.

Aleisha didn’t know what to say. She hugged her mum even tighter. She knew this wasn’t the end, it was only the very beginning, but she was conscious that Leilah was standing outside the house, on her own. She was here, and she wasn’t shaking, she was breathing normally, she was making eye contact, she was trying.

‘Maybe we could try to go together next week?’

‘All right.’

‘After my doctor’s appointment,’ Leilah kissed her daughter on the cheek. ‘I might need you there for that too.’

Aleisha stopped, she took a deep breath and tried to keep her voice from cracking. ‘Mum, that’s wonderful. I’m so proud of you.’ And she meant it, she meant every word. She wished Aidan were here to see this.

That evening, Aleisha and Leilah sat in the cool shade of the living room, the windows open, just a fraction, letting in a gentle warm breeze.

They’d spent the afternoon going through some baby photos, of Aidan, of Aleisha – they took it one at a time, but Aleisha watched as each photo prompted Leilah to light up, a memory to jump out at her. Beach holidays in the pouring rain, Aidan in the bath as a baby, foam on his head, Aidan learning to surf, Aidan and Aleisha’s first school photo together.

When the photos had run out, when they started to hurt again, to remember he wasn’t coming back, Aleisha opened the last book on the list: A Suitable Boy. She began to read out loud.

Immediately, Leilah and Aleisha were thrown into a wedding, where Mrs Rupa Mehra was telling her unmarried daughter Lata that she would have to marry a boy that her mother was going to choose for her.

The book was vibrant, immersive, the wedding was alive in their living room – Aleisha watched as Leilah smiled along at Rupa Mehra’s sternness.

‘I’m not like that, am I?’